The pressure built between her legs, just above where his member claimed her. As the ache began to border on frustrating, he dropped one hand between them and pressed his thumb against the center of her pleasure.
She jerked upright, plastering herself against his chest and screaming his name as something crashed over her. White lights exploded behind her eyes, and she clamped her knees around him in an effort to understand this breathless wonder.
With her holding on, he thrust twice more, threw his head back, and roared.
A warm flood of him spread throughout her body, and she knew this was what she’d been waiting for.
If she’d had breath left, she would’ve yelled her joy right along with him.
With a groan, he lowered himself to the grass beside her, slipping from her. Part of her mourned the lost connection, but another was too busy gasping in joy.
Now I ken why Pearl’s always smiling.
The thought bubbled up inside her like laughter, and she had to open her mouth to let it escape, lest she burst with contentment.
“That was incredible!”
She rolled to her side, intent on thanking him. But he wasn’t looking at her. Merrick lay on his back, his member already softening against his belly, his chest heaving, and his eyes wide as he stared up at the leafy canopy.
“Devil?” she prompted, propping herself up on one elbow and throwing a leg over his. “Are ye aright?”
His breathing slowed, but nothing else moved. At long last, he turned to meet her eyes.
“’Twas everything I needed, Saf.” He winced and shook his head. “I broke my vow,” he whispered as he closed his eyes.
Unable to stop the jolt of worry which coursed through her, she placed her hand on his chest. “What do ye mean?”
“Nae more bastards.”
That was all he said. All he had to say.
Saf let out a breath and withdrew her hand, to rest it over her stomach. As her eyes widened, she exhaled softly. Could she already be pregnant? He’d said that Sutherland men were unusually potent, but was it the right time of the month for her? She tried to count the days in her head, but her thoughts were too jumbled to concentrate.
Nae more bastards.
That had been his vow. That was why he’d rejected her offers; however subtle they’d been. That was why he hadn’t planned on joining with her.
But he had, and it had been as glorious as she’d hoped. And if the rumors were right, she could even now be carrying his child. Interestingly, the thought of bearing his babe, even if it meant having to find her own way in the world, wasn’t as horrible as she might have thought. Mayhap it was the feeling of rightness following her release, but at that moment, the only thing she was praying for was that the babe would have his father’s dark hair and unusual eyes, unlike most of Merrick’s children.
After Emma’s birth, only a few months ago, he must’ve decided to stop his carousing.
“Yer vow didnae last long, Devil,” she said with a teasing grin, dragging her fingers across her own stomach, loving how alive her skin felt.
Had she ever been completely nude in nature this way? Well, certainly not this way! A chuckle escaped her.
At the sound, he scowled and rolled to face her with a quickness which startled her.
“Twelve years, Saf,” he growled, his pale eyes full of something she couldn’t identify.
Shame?
He didn’t give her time to consider it. “I’d promised myself long ago I’d not join with another woman. I’d not risk siring more bastards.”
“But wee Emma—” she began in confusion, but he interrupted.
“And I’ve held to that vow.” He planted one elbow and loomed over her, grabbing her hip with his free hand and pulling her flush against him. “But ye, Sapphire Sinclair, I broke that vow for ye.”
Her heart had begun to pound, both at his nearness and his intensity.
Blessed Virgin, but he was being dramatic, wasn’t he?
She lifted her chin and met his glare. “And I’ll thank the saints every day ye did, Devil.”
He began to roll his eyes at her dramatic claim, but she stopped him with a poke in the chest. “I’ll thank the saints ye considered me at least as worthy of vow-breaking as you did the others.”
He frowned. “Others?”
He wasn’t that dense, was he? “Your other lovers. The ones in whose bellies you planted your babes.”
With a noise which might’ve been a laugh, and might’ve been a groan, he fell back to the grass once more. Since he hadn’t released her, she went with him, toppling across him and not minding it at all.
“Merrick, ye didnae think me even as worthy as—”
“They’re no’ mine.”
Her lips snapped shut as she stared down at him in shock. His gaze drifted from her to the leaves beyond her head.
“They’re no’ mine,” he repeated, softer. “They’re the children of my heart, but no’ of my body. Anna bore Mary and Willie.”
His skin was warm against hers, but she was too shocked to enjoy the sensation. “The rest…?”
“I sired none of them, no’ even wee Beck, who more than a few people have said is my punishment for my own rambunctious childhood.” His breath escaped on a chuckle, and he lifted his head to meet her eyes. “They’re likely all Sutherlands, aye, sired by uncles or brothers I never even kenned. Maggie is one of Robbie’s gets, and possibly Nolan as well.”
She shook her head, still trying to wrap her mind around the news. The Sutherland Devil’s band of bastards weren’t his own?
“Have ye ever asked?” she began hesitantly.
“Asked their mothers?” He shook his head. “Nay. By turning their children over to me, they ken the bairns will be raised healthy and happy, with as much status as I can grant them. It’s in the bairns’ best interests for the world to consider them mine, so I never dispute their mothers’ lies.”
He was right. She knew it with a certainty she hadn’t expected. The children he was raising, the bairns the world assumed were his…their lives were so much better as beloved children of a powerful laird. Had Merrick denied them, had he exposed their mothers’ lies, and sent them away, they would not have the access to the education, training, and healthy living he provided.
And as he said, they were Sutherlands.
But with his vow, he’d made sure that the next generation wouldn’t have his same worries. There’d be no Robbies, no John Lindsays, intent on making life difficult for the Sutherlands. And once he sired a legitimate heir…
“And if you marry again?” she managed to choke past the lump in her throat.
He held her gaze. “I cannae promise there will be nae more. As long as a bairn needs a home…”
She nodded, understanding.
“They are…” She cleared her throat, cursing the tears in her eyes. “They are Sutherlands, after all.”
His arms found their way to her backside, and he pressed her against him. Saffy expected the movement to stir passion in both of them, but instead, she felt a fierce sort of contentment, a fullness rising in her chest.
“Ye understand me, lass? Ye understand why I fought yer charms for so long?”
“Aye, and I love ye for it.”
His dark brows shot up. “Ye do?”
“Aye!” At his expression, she began to laugh, despite the tears which threatened. “Aye! I love ye, Merrick Sinclair, and I’ll thank every saint which led me to yer keep.”
“Every saint?”
“Well,” she clarified, chuckling, “I could’ve done without the stay in yer dungeon, so mayhap no’ St. Andrew.”
Slowly, a grin pulled his lips wide. “And since ye ken my secret now, lass, and since ye’ve declared me worthy of ye, mayhap ye could explain what a Sinclair Jewel is doing sneaking into my keep in the first place?”
Could she? She’d kept so many secrets—her sex, her identity, her mission—for so long, it was hard to remember her reasons.
<
br /> “Saf?” He prompted. “Do ye no’ trust me?”
Slowly, her smile bloomed. She did. “I do,” she admitted.
“Then ye’ll tell me?”
There, lying beside the pool, cushioned by his body, and blanketed by his arms, she explained the mystery of the missing jewels. She told him about Pearl’s find of the ancient tapestry, which led Agata to the Mackenzie holding. She told him how Agata had found one of the jewels hidden under the Sutherland holding on an ancestral wooden map.
Merrick seemed close to laughter. “And so ye came to my land, to what? To find a connection between my clan and yers? Do ye think my ancestor stole yer jewels?”
She blew out an exasperated breath and dug her elbows into his chest, ignoring his wince to prop her chin on her palms. “Nay, any more than I think the Mackenzies stole them. But…”
“But?”
“But yer grandfather and my great grandfather married sisters. They were originally from the Campbell clan.”
“Aye, we’ve had an alliance with them going back that long.”
“The jewels disappeared right around the time one of the sisters came to marry my great grandda—she was his second wife. One of her sisters went to the Mackenzies, and one to the Sutherlands.”
Gently, he coaxed her elbows out of the way, until she collapsed against him. His expression was thoughtful.
“That is more compelling, I’ll admit.”
Excited he was considering her theory, she straightened once more. “So, have ye seen anything which might mean the jewels are here? I’ve combed the tapestries and the histories, but I found nothing—” She broke off when he began to chuckle. “What?”
“Nay, I’ve heard naught. I’ll help ye search, but I’m remembering how Andrew reported he’d discovered ye ’sneaking about’ and ye claimed an interest in tapestries.”
Her lips twitched. “See? I told ye the lad was loyal.”
He sobered instantly. “Ye did, and likely saved his hide. I intended to punish him for sullying Mary.”
“She claimed he didnae, and I believe her. Do ye?”
His arm snaked around her once more. “I do. But I wouldnae have taken the time to listen to her claims, had ye no’ forced me to.”
“We make a good team, then. Ye act swiftly, precisely, and I’ll point out when ye’re being an idiot.”
When his laughter rumbled through his chest, she felt it in the very core of her being.
Finally, he rested his head against the grass, his eyes closed, and a smile on his lips. She decided this was the most handsome she’d ever seen him. The dappled sunlight made the silver at his temples sparkle, and the lines around his eyes were softer than she’d ever seen.
I did that.
Pride and contentment rose up in her as she laid in his arms and drew small circles on his chest.
“Ye’re right,” he murmured. “We do make a good team. Seeing ye stand up to me today, seeing ye speak for the good of the clan…that’s when I quit fighting it, Saf.” His eyes were still closed. “Ye might make a terrible squire, but ye’re a damn fine chess partner.”
“And lover?” she prompted, surprised she wasn’t shy about the question. She knew he’d enjoyed himself as much as she had.
“Aye,” he drawled, his hands cupping her arse. “The best I’ve had in years.”
“I’m the only lover ye’ve—”
She cut off the indignant rebuttal with a gasp as he rolled with lightning speed, flipping her over on her back until he was the one grinning above her.
“Aye, a fine lover, indeed, Saf.” He brushed a kiss against her lips, but before she could deepen it, pulled back. “And seeing yer boldness, yer intelligence, and yer wise counsel today…I realized ye’d make a fine Lady Sutherland, as well.”
She only had time to suck in a shocked breath before he continued.
“I didnae ken yer family name or why ye were in my home. But I kenned enough about ye to understand that, at least. I couldnae marry ye, no’ without kenning the rest, but…”
But now that he did know? “But?” she prompted.
He kissed her again, as gently as a butterfly brushing against her skin. When he pulled back, his expression was…nervous?
“I made a contract once already with yer father, Saf. The alliance would be good for both of us, and he’s proven amenable to having me as a son-in-law.”
She stopped breathing.
“Aye,” she croaked in agreement. Was he saying what she thought he was saying?
He held her gaze. “I want ye by my side, Saf. If I asked him, do ye think he’d agree to a marriage contract with yer name on it?”
She exhaled.
“Are ye sure he’s the one ye want to ask that question?”
“Will ye marry me, Saf? Be my lady? Bear my heirs?”
As her heart leapt with joy, she pursed her lips and hummed.
“I donnae ken. I’m a loyal squire, ye understand. I’ll have to ask my master if he’d agree—What are ye doing?” she asked with a yelp as he rolled to his feet in one movement, tossing her over his shoulder as he did so.
He stooped to grab her clothes before heading for the well-trained horse who’d been waiting silently nearby. She gave another yelp when he bounced her once before tossing her onto the saddle and handing her the linen shirt.
She pulled it over her head and emerged to find him still grinning up at her, naked as the day he was born, his erection proudly jutting from its nest of wiry curls.
“I’m taking ye back to my chambers, squire, where ye’ll learn to put that clever mouth of yers to work convincing me.”
“Convincing ye?” she demanded indignantly, trying to figure out how to pull on her breeches while seated atop a horse.
He was outright chuckling as he wrapped his kilt and belted it, then jammed on his boots, and swung up behind her. One arm wrapped around her, resting protectively on her stomach, his fingers just brushing the underside of her breasts.
“Aye, lass,” he growled in her ear, sending shivers through her. “I’ll make ye beg.”
And as he kicked his horse into motion, Saf gave up caring about her modesty. Laughing, she tossed her breeches into the blurred bushes as they rushed past, and when he joined in, she felt his joy in her very soul.
Chapter Twelve
“Laird! Merrick!”
Merrick woke slowly, which was unusual, but likely due to the woman in his arms.
How long had it been since he’d woken this way? He and Katharine had shared a bed, aye, but Anna was the last he’d held this way. And his feelings for Saf…
Well, he wasn’t sure yet. He’d loved Anna, but Saf made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t in years. And not just because she matched him in bed, but her wit, her joy, her—
“Merrick! Open up!”
Ah, that’s what had woken him—the pounding on the door. Funny, it sounded like Gavin’s voice, but the man was still in the healer’s chamber, unable to remain awake long enough to account for his piss-poor decisions.
Slowly, Merrick moved out from under Saf. She murmured sleepily and moaned as she rolled off him.
“Who is it?” she asked hoarsely, and he smiled at how exhausted she sounded.
They’d returned from the waterfall with his kilt askew and her half-naked in his arms, but it didn’t matter. He’d called for Corra to send supper to his chambers, then marched right past his chuckling and cheering clan to carry Saf up the stairs. Even Mary stood, grinning happily, little Isobel in her arms.
Merrick had tossed Saf on his bed, where she’d rolled to her stomach. The sight of that bare arse in the air had been more than his control—finally relinquished after so many years!—could stand. He pulled her up to her knees, pressed her shoulders into the mattress, and showed her a few new positions which she—apparently—had found quite satisfactory.
Aye, it had been a long and glorious night, and who in the hell thought it was aright to wake them with the stars still high in the da
rk sky?
“Merrick! Please!”
The pounding was beginning to sound desperate by the time Merrick untangled himself from the coverlets and Saf.
She was sitting up in bed now, rubbing her eyes. “What’s going on?”
It was her interrupted sleep more than his own which sent Merrick stomping nude to the door in a foul temper. He’d just begun to build a future with this woman, and now someone had the bollocks to bother them?
He yanked open the door just as another round of frantic knocking began, and was surprised to see Gavin standing there, fist raised, his other hand locked around the wrist of…
“Elana?” Merrick frowned, his gaze going back to his friend, whose expression was a mix of terror and relief.
“Merrick, thank God,” Gavin muttered with relief, pushing past him to tug his younger sister into the room.
Elana was carrying a lit taper, and as she passed Merrick, he sucked in a surprised breath. The lass was wearing naught but a torn chemise and was covered in filth. Not only that, her face and arms showed bruises and cuts as if…as if a man had used his fists to beat her.
The pair halted in the middle of the room, Gavin’s frantic gaze searching the corners as if for danger, not even lingering on Saf, who’d pulled the coverlet up around her shoulders.
Merrick’s eyes narrowed as he slammed the door and stalked toward the man whom he’d always trusted.
“What in the hell is going on, Gavin? Why aren’t ye unconscious?”
“I’m—I’m sorry.” The other man shook his head, the light from his sister’s candle catching the healed scar on his forehead. “I truly am, Merrick,” he said hoarsely.
It was the guilt in his friend’s eyes, more than anything, which made Merrick realize the truth. Gavin hadn’t been in and out of consciousness for the last sennight. The reason the healer couldn’t determine what was wrong with him was because there wasn’t aught wrong.
Gavin had been pretending for days, to avoid having to answer for his failures.
With a growl, Merrick spun away from the two of them to scoop up his kilt. He recalled Saf tearing it from his body last night, but he couldn’t let himself focus on that memory. Not if he wanted to get to the bottom of this midnight intrusion.
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