Revan slipped his hand beneath her heavy skirts and stroked her thigh. “I want you, Tessa—right now.”
His touch already had her breathing fast, and she fruitlessly tried to fight her weakness for him. She put her hands on his chest, intending to push him away, but was distracted by the feel of his warm taut skin beneath her hands and by how fast his heart was beating. When he began to undo her gown and brushed his lips over hers, she sighed and gave in. Nothing seemed quite as vital to her at the moment as the need to know his touch again.
After he removed her gown, he gently pushed her down onto the bed and covered her body with his. Tess clung to him, occasionally easing her grip only enough to allow him to finish undressing her. When their flesh finally met, she trembled. She was starved for him, the night she had spent believing him gone forever only adding to her hunger.
Tess greedily welcomed his every caress, his every kiss, and did her best to return each one in kind. She could not seem to get enough of the feel of him, of the taste of him. For as long as she could, she fought to restrain her body’s screaming need for completion. She wanted the pleasure, the sweet closeness, to last forever.
When Revan finally united their fevered bodies, she cried out with a mixture of heady delight and faint disappointment that the lovemaking would soon end. She clung to him, returning his fierce kiss, and tried to pull him as deeply within her as she could. Her release forced the words she had kept locked in her heart out of her mouth in a passion-thickened cry. She paid no heed to that compulsive confession, hearing only Revan hoarsely calling her name as she sank into the blind abyss of need. Tess held him close, her limbs curled around his lean body, when he slumped against her.
She watched him carefully when he finally eased the intimacy of their embrace and moved to wash up. Even when he gently performed that intimate service for her, she could not stop looking at him. She told herself not to be such a fool, but a part of her was still afraid that he was not real, that he was simply a vision produced by her exhausted mind.
Revan returned to bed and started to tug the covers down. Tess moved to slip beneath the lavender-scented sheets and felt something crinkle beneath her backside. She frowned at the letter she tugged out from beneath her as she joined Revan beneath the covers. Someone had left it on the top of the bedcovers, but they had missed it in their need to make love. Her eyes widened when she saw Revan’s name scrawled on it, as well as the king’s seal.
“ ’Tis for you.” She handed it to him and saw by his expression that he was as surprised as she.
“Mayhaps ’tis just some orders,” he murmured as he tore it open and, slipping his arm about her shoulders, held her close while he read it. His amusement over how hard she tried not to read his letter faded as he discovered what the king had written to him.
“I have been given all that MacKinnon owned,” he said, his voice soft with shock. “A fine piece of property and what coin and goods there might be to tally up.”
“Oh, Revan, ’tis wondrous news. ’Tis well past time that he gave ye some reward for your loyalty.”
Tess impulsively kissed him, then snuggled closer to his side. She was happy for him but knew that her happiness was prompted by more than Revan finally getting some of the reward he so richly deserved. Now he had land and coin in his purse. Now they were just a little more equal. She glanced up at him and frowned. He was looking at her a little oddly.
“Is something wrong?” she asked. “Must ye leave on the morrow or something?”
“Nay. Tessa? When ye were told that ye were granted Thurkettle’s lands and money, were ye told anything else?”
“Well, Uncle Silvio did say that there were a few curious conditions, but he said discussing them could wait.”
“The rogue,” Revan muttered, then laughed and shook his head.
“What is it?”
“Your uncle has been aware of your decision to set me free for quite a while, I think.”
“Well, there is the chance that he was told ere we left Isabella’s. Why?”
“Because we have been playing his game. ’Tis the only reason he didna tell ye, or me, what those curious conditions were. Aye, Thurkettle’s fortune is yours. However, ’tis now half mine. It seems the king gifted it to you if ye didna become my wife by my choice. In other words, if I ended the betrothal, ye got all of this. But if we did wed as planned, then it was to be yours and mine equally.”
She snatched the letter from Revan as she sat up straighter, then read it—twice. “Can he do that?”
“He is the king.” Revan kissed her cheek. “He can do whatever he pleases. Are ye angry?”
“Nay,” she said, then shook her head. “Uncle Silvio has been toying with us. If he had told ye about this—”
“I might have stayed? He probably thought it would be a poor reason for me to do so, and he was right. He wanted me to come back to you because I had discovered that it was what I wanted, not because the king graciously made us more equal. Your uncle wanted me to win over my own choking pride before I wed you.”
“Is that what ye did, Revan?” she asked in a soft voice.
He held her close, resting his cheek against her hair. “Aye. Mayhaps I just needed to be faced with losing you.” He shrugged. “I also discovered that, when I eyed my pride squarely and honestly, it carried the taint of envy.”
“Envy? Why? I did naught to earn all of this. Ye have earned everything ye have, even when it was but a few riders in your purse. I got what I have through other people dying.”
Revan chuckled, then pulled back a little to meet her gaze. “Ye earned this place, lass.”
“Aye.” She smiled, feeling a small tingle of pride. “I suppose I did in a way.”
He gently brushed a few strands of hair from her face. “I rode away thinking that ye were right. And, aye, ye were, but only because I had not taken the time to look at myself closely. Everyone had told me that I was the only one who viewed marrying an heiress in the way I did. They told me that it didna matter what ye had if I kenned in my heart and mind that I wasna marrying for gain. Aye, and that ye kenned it, too.”
“I never thought ye were after my fortune, Revan. Not even when we were in that cave and I lied about how much I had. I canna explain why I did that, but I swear it wasna because I thought ye would want it.”
“Maybe ye already sensed what a thickheaded fool I could be.” He smiled when she shook her head. “Aye, I was. I was willing to toss away our happiness, hurt both of us, simply because I didna want a few people to speak ill of me. When I rode away, I was reluctant, confused, and miserable. When I made the decision to return, all of that faded. That was even more proof of how great a mistake I had nearly made. For the sake of my overwhelming pride, I was walking away from what I really wanted, deserting and hurting a wee brown lass who loved me more than I deserved.”
His words made her feel wonderful, but she tensed slightly over the last few. “I never said that,” she was compelled to say, and she lowered her gaze so that he could not look into her eyes.
“Aye. Ye did.” He grinned as he cupped her chin in his hand and forced her to meet his gaze. “Ye fairly screamed it not long ago. I was—” He laughed when she quickly put her hand over his mouth.
“ ’Twas but the heat of the moment,” she muttered as she recalled the particular moment he referred to.
Revan studied her for a little while, then asked in a soft voice, “Have I made ye afraid to love me, Tessa?”
“Nay! I just—” She bit her lip, not sure what she could say without confirming what she had just tried to deny.
“Ah, ’tis pride, then.” He pushed her down onto her back and lightly pinned her there with his body.
“Everyone has a little,” she mumbled.
“Aye, and we should see more clearly than most just how dangerous it can be if we let it rule us.”
“I am not letting it rule me,” she protested. It was pure cowardice, a fear of opening her heart to him and no
t getting all that she hungered for in return, but she was not going to confess that to him.
“Then look me in the eye and tell me that ye dinna love me.”
Tess glared at him. He was playing the game unfairly. She had to be the poorest liar in all of Scotland, and they both knew it. The words might come from her lips smoothly enough, but her eyes would reveal the truth.
“Oh, why dinna ye go and do something besides tormenting me? Thrashing Uncle Silvio would be nice.”
Revan laughed and kissed her neck before looking into her eyes again. “Say it. Ye canna spit out the lie, can ye?”
“Oh, all right then, curse your hide. I love you. Happy now?” She started with surprise when he gave her a hearty kiss.
“So sweetly spoken,” he murmured, laughter in his voice. “Ye do ken how to woo a man, lass.” He laughed when she lightly punched him on the chest. “Come, Tessa, where is the harm in our loving each other? Why do ye fear it?”
“Loving each other?” she repeated his words in a nervous whisper. “Ye love me?”
“What do ye think brought me back here?”
“Duty. Honor. Your horse.”
He ignored that last muttered nonsense. “Neither duty nor honor was strong enough to cure me of my destructive pride. I love you.” He wrapped his arms around her when she suddenly clung to him, pressing her face against his chest. “ ’Twas what made me realize that returning was the only thing to do, the right thing.”
“When did ye ken that ye loved me?”
“Well, ’tis rather hard to say. I didna want to, did I? My pride ruled me, and I kenned that loving you was the surest way to make me act against that pride. ’Twas there but I tried to ignore it. Even when ye fell into Thurkettle’s hands and I was half-mad with fear for you, I tried very hard not to admit why that should be. When did ye ken that ye loved me?” He rubbed his cheek against her soft hair as he waited for her reply.
“In the cave. That night that ye went out to lead Thurkettle’s men astray. When ye returned unhurt, I kenned it then. Well, I admitted it to myself then.”
“Aye. I am sure, now, that that is when I began to love you, if I hadna begun already.”
For a long time she held him close, silent as she savored the knowledge that he loved her. She needed a while to control herself, suffering from an absurd urge to weep. Revan would never understand that the tears would be ones of joy, of release from all her fears. Men saw tears as a sign of something wrong, and she knew that now was not a good time to try and teach Revan otherwise.
“Will everything be all right now, Revan?” she finally asked, needing assurance that he had truly conquered his pride, that it and the bitter anger it could stir would not return to haunt them.
“Aye, my wee brown love. Everything will be all right. I will save my pride for more worthy things, such as my pretty brown-eyed wife and all the bonnie bairns we shall have together. That trouble is behind us. ’Twas left to rot in the forest where I sat for so long and wrestled with my own heart and mind.”
She closed her eyes and sighed with relief. Love could have merely overshadowed his pride, leaving it to stir to life later. His words convinced her that she did not need to fear that. That threat to her happiness was truly gone.
“Are ye at ease then, Tessa?”
“Aye.”
“No more fears?”
“Well . . . I wouldna say that.” She smiled against his skin when he laughed. “Marriage is a very grave matter. I wish to do it right, to have such a good one.”
“Ye will, lass.” He tipped her face up toward his and touched a kiss to her mouth. “Just love me as I love you, and our marriage can only be good.”
“I believe I can do that. ’Twill be very easy.” She ran her foot up and down his calf. “Did ye decide on which name ye wished for your horse?”
“Aye—Amigo. I dinna suppose ye gave any thought to what ye might call this place?” He began to nibble her ear.
“Aye. Casa de Halyard. And—Revan?” She smoothed her hands over his broad back.
“What?” Moving his gentle kisses to her throat, he began to lose interest in the conversation.
“I will name all of our children.” She grinned when he briefly glanced her way, then laughed. “I shudder to think of our wee bairns spending their early years as ‘Boy’ or ‘Girl.’ ”
He cupped her face in his hands. “And we shall have the bonniest bairns in all of Scotland.”
“Aye, with fine blue-gray eyes and fair hair.”
“I was thinking of deep brown eyes and coal-black hair.”
“Is this the first disagreement of our marriage?” she asked with a faint smile.
Revan smiled back at her. “ ’Twould be nice if they were all so small. Just never forget that, no matter how angry I might become or how foolish I might act at times, I do love you, Contessa Comyn Delgado Halyard.”
“Ah, aye, and I love you,” she whispered. “So very much. And I shall love you—until the last day of forever.”
“ ’Twill do for a start,” he murmured and kissed her.
Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of
Hannah Howell’s HIGHLAND BRIDE.
Scotland, Spring 1475
“Oof!”
Oof!? Dazed and struggling to catch her breath, Alana decided she must have made that noise herself. Hard dirt floors did not say oof. It was odd, however, how the rough stone walls of the oubliette made her voice sound so deep, almost manly. Just as she began to be able to breathe again, the hard dirt floor shifted beneath her.
It took Alana a moment to fully grasp the fact that she had not landed on the floor. She had landed on a person. That person had a deep, manly voice. It was not dirt or stone beneath her cheek, but cloth. There was also the steady throb of a heartbeat in the ear she had pressed against that cloth. Her fingers were hanging down a little and touching cool, slightly damp earth. She was sprawled on top of a man like a wanton.
Alana scrambled off the man, apologizing for some awkward placement of her knees and elbows as she did so. The man certainly knew how to curse. She stood and stared up at the three men looking down at her, the light from the lantern they held doing little more than illuminating their grinning, hairy faces.
“Ye cannae put me in here with a mon,” she said.
“Got no place else to put ye,” said the tallest of the three, a man called Clyde, whom she was fairly sure was the laird.
“I am a lady,” she began.
“Ye are a wee, impudent child. Now, are ye going to tell us who ye are?”
“So ye can rob my people? Nay, I dinnae think so.”
“Then ye stay where ye are.”
She did not even have time to stutter out a protest. The grate was shut, and that faint source of light quickly disappeared as the Gowans walked away. Alana stared into the dark and wondered how everything had gone so wrong. All she had wanted to do was to help find her sister Keira, but none of her family had heeded her pleas or her insistence that she could truly help to find her twin. It had seemed such a clever idea to disguise herself as a young girl and follow her brothers, waiting for just the right moment to reveal herself. How she had enjoyed those little dreams of walking up to her poor, confused brothers and leading them straight to their sister. That had kept a smile upon her face and a jaunty spring in her step right up until the moment she had realized she not only had lost her brothers’ trail, but also had absolutely no idea of where she was.
Feeling very sorry for herself and wondering why her gifts had so abruptly failed her just when she needed them the most, she had been cooking a rabbit and sulking when the Gowans had found her. Alana grimaced as she remembered how she had acted. Perhaps if she had been sweet and had acted helpless, she would not be stuck in a hole in the ground with a man who was apparently relieving himself in a bucket. Maybe it would be wise to tell the Gowans who she was so that they could get some ransom for her and she could get out of here. Appalled by that moment of weakn
ess, Alana proceeded to lecture herself in the hope of stiffening her resolve.
Gregor inwardly cursed as he finished relieving himself. It was not the best way to introduce himself to his fellow prisoner, but he really had had little choice. Having a body dropped on top of him and then being jabbed by elbows and knees had made ignoring his body’s needs impossible. At least the dark provided a semblance of privacy.
He was just trying to figure out where she was when he realized she was muttering to herself. Clyde Gowan had called her an impudent child, but there was something in that low, husky voice that made him think of a woman. After she had landed on him and he had caught his breath, there had also been something about that soft, warm body that had also made him think of a woman despite the lack of fulsome curves. He shook his head as he cautiously stepped toward that voice.
Despite his caution, he took one step too many and came up hard against her back. She screeched softly and jumped, banging the top of her head against his chin. Gregor cursed softly as his teeth slammed together, sending a sharp, stinging pain through his head. He was a little surprised to hear her softly curse as well.
“Jesu, lass,” he muttered, “ye have inflicted more bruises on me than those fools did when they grabbed me.”
“Who are you?” Alana asked, wincing and rubbing at the painful spot on the top of her head, certain she could feel a lump rising.
“Gregor. And ye are?”
“Alana.”
“Just Alana?”
“Just Gregor?”
“I will tell ye my full name if ye tell me yours.”
“Nay, I dinnae think so. Someone could be listening, hoping we will do just that.”
“And ye dinnae trust me as far as ye can spit, do ye?”
“Why should I? I dinnae ken who ye are. I cannae e’en see you.” She looked around and then wondered why she bothered since it was so dark she could not even see her own hand if she held it right in front of her face. “What did they put ye in here for?”
Hannah Howell Page 30
