A Taste of Sin

by Mason, Connie

  Since the hour was late and he was tired, Sinjun went directly home. Unfortunately he couldn’t find his key. He knew Pemburton was sleeping, so he rapped sharply on the front door to awaken him. It seemed like forever before Pemburton opened the door, wearing a nightshirt and loosely belted robe that flopped around his bony ankles and skinny feet. A tasseled nightcap, tilted at a comical angle, sat atop his head of sparse gray hair. Sinjun wanted to laugh but knew his dignified butler would be offended.

  “Welcome home, milord,” Pemburton intoned dryly.

  Chapter 21

  “Thank you, Pemburton,” Sinjun said as he started up the stairs. “I’m exhausted. A hot bath and something light to eat wouldn’t be amiss.”

  “Very good, milord,” Pemburton said, as if the demand for a hot bath and food at so late an hour was perfectly normal.

  Weary beyond words, Sinjun wasn’t in the best of moods. Had he been more himself he wouldn’t have come straight home. He would have gone to one of his clubs or to White’s and sought out a willing female, but frankly, even if he were up to it he wasn’t interested in another woman.

  Something totally unexpected had happened to Lord Sin since Christy Macdonald had brazenly thrust herself into his life. He had fallen in love with his wife and gained a son he adored. Would he ever see them again? What in bloody hell had made Christy flee Glenmoor in such a damn hurry?

  Sinjun paused before the nursery door, tempted to open it, if only to gaze at the small bed where his son had once slept. But the disappointment of walking into an empty room dissuaded him, and he continued on to his own chamber.

  Inside his chamber he went immediately to the brandy decanter sitting on his dresser and poured two fingers into a crystal goblet. Drink in hand, he walked to the window and stared into the dark street below, his thoughts bleak. A sleepy-eyed servant arrived to lay a fire in the hearth, distracting Sinjun from his morose thoughts. Shortly afterward the tub arrived, followed by pot boys carrying buckets of hot and cold water. Sinjun undressed and sank down into the water, sighing blissfully. Pemburton arrived with a light repast of meat, cheese, bread, and fruit. He pulled a small table close to the tub and set the tray down.

  “Is there anything else you require, milord?”

  “Go back to bed, Pemburton, I can see to myself. Just set the brandy decanter on the table before you leave.”

  Sinjun picked at the food, deciding he wasn’t hungry after all. He refilled his goblet with brandy and sipped quietly. But even the heady taste of brandy palled after a while, and he set the glass down, tilted his head back against the rim of the tub and closed his eyes.

  Christy awakened abruptly from a deep sleep, roused by the sound of activity coming from Sinjun’s chamber. He had finally arrived! She had waited so long for him to return, and now that he had finally arrived she couldn’t stop trembling.

  Oh, why had she listened to Emma? What if Sinjun turned her away? What if he sent her back to Glenmoor without Niall?

  Plagued by demons of her own making, Christy decided there was only one way to discover the answers to all her questions. Sinjun’s chamber was separated from hers by a door. She had but to walk through the door to learn her fate.

  She’d make him understand how much she loved him, she vowed as she climbed from bed and padded barefoot to the door. Gathering the tattered remnants of her courage, she cracked open the door and peered into Sinjun’s chamber. The room was dimly lit by a cheery fire that popped and snapped in the grate. A tub had been set up before the hearth. All she could see of Sinjun was his head resting against the rim and his arms stretched out along the sides. He appeared to be sleeping.

  Startling Sinjun awake didn’t seem like a good idea. Then her gaze wandered to the bed, and a mischievous smile stretched across her lips. No matter how often she and Sinjun argued, their bodies were always perfectly attuned to one another.

  Sinjun didn’t stir as she tiptoed past the tub, nor did he appear to hear the whisper of cloth as she removed her nightgown and climbed into bed. Then she settled down to wait, her body thrumming with anticipation.

  Time hung suspended, moving forward only when Sinjun finally stirred and rose majestically from the tub. The breath lodged in Christy’s throat as he toweled himself dry before the fire. He was thinner than she remembered, but his body had lost none of its appeal. Her body swelled with desire, clamoring with the need to touch, to kiss, to feel. His back was to her. Her lips went dry, and she licked moisture onto them as she stared at the hard mounds of his buttocks, recalling the feel of their supple tautness beneath her hands.

  He turned around, and Christy stifled a groan. Even at rest he was generously endowed. Aroused, he was magnificent. She held her breath and froze when he tossed the towel to the floor and approached the bed.

  The bed sat in a shadowed corner, untouched by the dying flames in the hearth. She felt the mattress dip as Sinjun lowered himself onto the bed, and she heard him sigh as he pulled the covers up to his waist.

  A sweetly scented puff of air touched Sinjun’s face as he shifted on his side. Another breath whispered across his cheek, and he sucked in a startled gasp. With shaking hands he reached across the bed, and touched warm, supple flesh so familiar, so beloved, that his heart leaped with joy.

  “Christy?”

  He found her face, cupping it in his strong hands, cursing the darkness that concealed her beautiful features. His heart thudded against his ribcage as he ran his thumb over her lips and guided her mouth to his. She kissed him back. It was potent, heady; the heat and taste of her teased his senses and filled him with unbearable need. He kissed her again, and yet again, thoroughly exploring her mouth with his tongue as his hands roamed over her lush curves.

  All past lies and deceptions disappeared as if they had never existed. He wanted to hold her like this in his arms forever, to feel her softness against him, to fill her with himself and never let her go.

  “Don’t be angry with me,” Christy whispered when he released her mouth.

  “Why did you leave Glenmoor?”

  Her voice trembled. “You said you didn’t want me.”

  Sinjun reared back, stunned. “When did I say that?”

  “I … I could have misunderstood.”

  “Obviously,” he said dryly. “I was so confused after you left I didn’t know what to think. Margot said you missed Niall, and I could understand that What I couldn’t understand was why you left without telling me. I feared you would take Niall and flee. I was mad. Damn mad. Mostly at myself because I was too weak to stop you.”

  She touched his face. “I love you, Sinjun. I have always loved you.”

  “No more lies, Christy.”

  “No more lies, Sinjun. I want to tell you about Calum, and what happened while I was his captive.”

  He placed a finger against her lips. “I don’t care what happened. You’re mine. I had you longer than he did.”

  “But that’s what I’m trying to tell you! Calum never had me, not in the way you mean. He was lying. He wanted you to think he’d ravished me. He knew you wouldn’t want me after he’d … he’d defiled me.”

  “He was wrong, Christy. I’d want you no matter what he did to you.”

  “Truly?”

  “Truly.”

  She gave a happy little sigh. “Emma said you followed me to Glenmoor because you feared Calum would hurt me.”

  “Emma told me you lied about my son because you wanted to protect me from Calum Cameron. It appears we owe Emma a great deal for her failure to keep confidences.”

  “Emma talked me out of leaving, but I’ve been so afraid. I feared you would send me back to Glenmoor without my bairn.”

  “How is my son?”

  “He’s wonderful, and looks more like his father every day. He’s eating solid food now and crawling. He’ll be walking soon. He missed you, Sinjun.”

  “No more than I missed him. And his mother,” he added meaningfully. “Don’t ever leave me again, Christy.”
r />   “Or?…”

  “Or I’ll tie you to the bed and make love to you until you’re too exhausted to move, much less flee.”

  She made a purring sound in her throat and snuggled against him. “Every night I dreamed of being in your arms again. Are you sure you’re recovered?”

  “Why don’t we find out?”

  He kissed her temple, her brow, then worked his way down the slope of her cheek to her mouth. He lingered over a kiss before moving his mouth to the rapidly beating pulse in her neck. Her scent intoxicated him, fueling the fire burning inside him. He struggled to pace himself, but it had been so long that he found control beyond him.

  His mouth found her breast. His dark head bent to cover a nipple with his lips, drawing it into his mouth with heated pleasure. His hands caressed her, roaming freely over the curves and valleys of her body as his tongue circled damply around her taut nipple.

  A spear of heat spiked through her, coiling in her belly and setting her blood afire. His warm breath against her flesh sent shivers of anticipation racing down her spine as her hands moved restlessly over him, unable to get her fill of touching.

  “You’re the only woman I’ll ever want, Christy Macdonald.”

  The husky sound of his voice was a caress, his warm mouth upon her as potent as the stroke of his tongue against her nipple, and she trembled. She must have been mad to think she could survive without this special man in her life.

  “You’re the only man I’ll ever want, my Lord Sin.”

  “Just Sinjun. I’ve repented.”

  His hand swept over her belly, coming to rest at the bright curls between her legs. His fingers slid through dewy flesh, opening her, stroking the inner folds, now wet with her love juices, until she burned beneath his touch. A thrumming began low in her stomach. Her nerve ends were so raw she lurched and cried out when his mouth replaced his fingers. A new fire ignited when she felt his tongue thrust deeply into her moist passage. When he dragged his thumb across the throbbing nub of sensitive flesh, she lost all semblance of control.

  “Sinjun! Please!”

  She quivered, straining upward against him, pressing herself with artless ecstasy against his mouth, reaching for elusive release. A soft sob tore from her throat. Then ecstasy tore through her in a shattering, tumultuous explosion.

  “Sinjun! Oh, God, how I love you! Come inside me. I’ve waited so long.”

  He raised to his knees and knelt over her. She felt the tenseness of his sweat-slicked muscles and spread her thighs wide to receive him. A log in the grate hissed and spat, and in the ensuing flash of light Christy caught a glimpse of his eyes, heavy-lidded with passion, glowing like brilliant embers beneath a fringe of dark lashes. His teeth were bared, and his expression was stark with concentration.

  He was so beautiful he took her breath away. She was distracted from his face when she felt his thick shaft prodding against her stomach. Her fingers curled around him, taking his hot shaft in her hand, slowly moving it up and down his hard length. Once, twice, again, then she heard his breath hiss through his clenched teeth.

  “You’re killing me, sweetheart.”

  His voice was raw, as if he were riddled with pain. Heart clamoring wildly, she knew instinctively that his control was dangling by a slim thread. She brought him to her entrance and he slid inside.

  “Thank God,” he whispered fervently. “Hold me, love, hold me.”

  Her arms slid around his warm, damp skin to hold him close as he moved forcefully between her legs. He kissed her roughly, thrusting deep and hot inside her. She cried out, overcome by sweet ecstasy. It had been so long … so very long. He caught her cry in his mouth as she dug her fingers into the taut muscles of his back, urging him on with soft little noises she had no idea she was making. He moved inside her with strong, relentless strokes; she arched upward into the hard thrust of him, wanting more, demanding everything.

  Someone was whimpering. It was immediately silenced when he covered her mouth with his, but the whimpers continued inside her head. He drove into her with relentless fervor, his engorged shaft sending pleasure washing over her in hot, scalding waves.

  Half-sobbing, she clung to him as he climaxed strongly inside her. He groaned and rested his fore-head against her cheek, panting to catch his breath. After a while he rolled to one side and brought her against him.

  “Do you forgive me?” Christy whispered into the silence of the chamber.

  “It’s probably going to take a lifetime.”

  “I never wanted to lie to you. I couldn’t let you return to the Highlands and become Calum’s victim, so I did what I thought best to save your life.”

  “It’s all right, love, truly. I do understand, though I would have preferred that you told me the truth and let me decide what to do about Calum. Speaking of Calum, how did you keep him from … bedding you? I wouldn’t have given up so easily.”

  She laughed and said archly, “Calum isn’t Lord Sin. Seriously, though, jealousy and ambition were eating him alive. When we were children we were expected to marry, but Culloden changed all that. Calum thought that making me his mistress would give him the power to control the clans.”

  “Did Calum think I was going to do nothing while he used my wife?” Sinjun asked harshly.

  “‘Tis a rare husband who will take his wife back once she’s been compromised by another man. Wife stealing often results in a feud that can last generations.”

  “I must be that rare husband, because I wanted you back no matter what Calum did to you. You haven’t told me how you kept Calum from bedding you.”

  “I told him I was carrying your bairn. It dampened his ardor, just like I hoped it would.”

  Sinjun reared up on his elbow. “Are you? Good God, Christy, am I going to be a father again?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Would you like to?”

  The breath caught in her throat. “Would you like another bairn?”

  “‘Tis time Niall had a little brother or sister.”

  “What about Lord Sin? Aren’t you going to miss him? Won’t the ton miss him?”

  “I like to think that the legendary Lord Sin abdicated his title at the height of his illustrious career. He’ll always be remembered as a profligate rake. As for the ton, I don’t give a damn what they think. London no longer holds the same appeal it once did. I’ve learned to appreciate moors covered with heather, craggy mountains and sparkling lochs. The Highlands is a good place to raise our children.”

  Tears of joy filled Christy’s eyes. “Are you saying what I think you are? Are you sure you’re willing to forgo the pleasures of London society for country living? You know how remote Glenmoor is, how unworldly compared to decadent London.”

  “I love you, Christy. You wouldn’t be happy living in London. Besides, the clan needs their laird. I’m not saying we won’t visit London from time to time. What I’m trying to tell you is that I no longer feel the need to maintain the same lifestyle Lord Sin found essential to his well-being.”

  He grinned. “Won’t Julian be surprised? He’s been trying to reform me for years.”

  “I can’t remember when I’ve been so happy,” Christy sighed. “I nearly lost my mind waiting for you to return to London. I feared … I thought…”

  “That I would turn you out of my house?” Sinjun drawled. “That was never my intention.”

  “I’ll not submit meekly to a beating,” Christy teased playfully.

  He chuckled. “I never thought you would, ‘tis why I never considered it. Not my fierce Christy. I’ll settle for your love.” He pulled her against him, his hands caressing her breasts, her hips, his lips teasing her ear. “Shall we make a little brother or sister for Niall?”

  “It might take a very long time.”

  “I’ve got all the time in the world. If Lord Sin is going to retire, he’ll need to practice his skills frequently so he won’t become boring.”

  “You’ll never bore me, Sinjun. Just don’t stop lov
ing me.”

  “Loving you is my destiny. I should have realized it when that seven-year-old hellion I married kicked me in the shin and stuck her tongue out at me.

  They loved and slept and loved again, for the rest of their lives.

  About the Author

  Connie is the bestselling author of 60 books and novellas and counting. Her tales of passion and adventure are set in exotic as well as in American locales. Connie has won awards from Romantic Times and has been listed in Who’s Who of American Women for several years. Connie makes her home in Tarpon Springs, Florida.

  Connie is a world traveler. She has visited every country in Western and Eastern Europe, Greece, Asia and Northern Africa. Also, countless islands in the Mediterranean and Caribbean Seas. Connie enjoys spending time with her three children, nine grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. Visit her Website and www.conniemason.com.