“Something’s wrong,” she said.
“I’m in a fucking bad mood. Let it go. I’m not used to a woman acting this way, and it makes me damned uncomfortable. ’Tis why I never married and why I cannae seem to have a lover more than a couple months. I cannae spend all my bloody time explaining my feelings when I don’t even like having them.”
She reached toward him, and he flinched.
“There’s nothing wrong with having feelings,” she said.
“Not if you’re a piece of fluff, but for a man like me, indulging in any one of these cuddly feelings you’re so fond of can mean the difference between life and death. ’Tis easier to let them go.”
“Your life is different now,” she said.
“Aye, and I’m reminded of it on a daily basis. I don’t need the shackles to know I’m chattel. There’s no freedom in this bloody place. I cannae even get drunk without a lecture. Go nag your husband. I’m not in the mood for it. And stop looking at me that way.”
“How shall I look at you then?” she asked. “What happened since this morning, Alex? I thought we’d reached some kind of understanding.”
“Aye, lass, we have an understanding. We fit together like a fucking puzzle and I’ve not ever fucked a woman as well as I’ve fucked you.”
“There’s more to it,” she said softly.
“What would you have me say? Shall I pledge my undying love and fill your ears with pretty lies? Do you wish to hear my cock will never enter another woman as long as I live? That I will stay faithful to you for all eternity?” His eyes blazed with sudden fire. “Why stop there? I can promise to spend the rest of my shackled life with you. Are you that eager to share my prison and surrender everything you are to the whims of another? Do you know what hell is, Megan?”
“Listening to a drunken man feeling sorry for himself?” she asked.
“No, ’tis not having control of your own life. ’Tis wondering what each day will bring because your choices are gone, your will is subjugated, your desires are mere dreams. ’Tis finding feelings you’ve buried so deep inside are oozing to the surface like poison, eating you alive from the inside out. ’Tis knowing that what you want will never be yours. Do you want to live in hell with me?”
“Alex, why are you like this tonight?” She reached toward him, and he slid the chair back. The harsh scrape in the stillness of the room seemed to clear her head. She peered at him intently, and his glare roamed around the room restlessly. “Are you frightened of me?”
His glance finally caressed her body but seemed to meet an invisible barrier near her chin. “Frightened? No, I’m not frightened of you.” Slowly he raised his eyes, forcing himself to look at her. “I’m terrified. Of you, of what’s happening here. I’m so terrified I wish you’d go to bed.”
“You had something to say to me.”
“I’ve changed my mind,” he said.
He jerked under her hand when she smoothed the hair away from his brow, but that didn’t deter her. She let her hand slide along his face.
“Where were you tonight, Alex?”
“Places,” he mumbled.
She tucked her hand under his chin and raised his face. He had a hard time meeting her eyes, but finally they snapped toward her. Through the haze of liquor, she saw him struggling to hold on to the anger, and it gave her a little courage.
“What kinds of places?”
“Comforting places. Places a man can forget.”
“I can make you forget,” she said softly.
“I don’t think so. ’Tis you I’m trying to forget.”
She pulled the bottle from the shelter between his legs and put it on the table. She slid into his lap, and the look on his face changed. It twisted from anger to confusion. She nestled against him like a child, and he pulled her legs over his, cradling her tight. His hand swept under her nightdress, drawing slowly up her bare leg until he reached her thigh. The hand on her thigh was warm and all she could think of. His fingertips caressed her lightly, like the touch of a father comforting a baby while he rocked her to sleep. For a long while, they sat and listened to the fire sputter in the hearth.
“What do you need to say to me, Alex?”
“I cannae remember, and I don’t want to think of it right now.”
When she reached toward his face, he tried to dodge her hands, but she was persistent and wrapped her hands around him, holding him steady. When her lips touched his, he trembled under her hands. His mouth tasted of whiskey, and his entire body reeked of it, but now that she was closer, she smelled something else on him, and it hurt something inside of her. He’d been very close to another woman tonight. She could smell the perfume.
But the pain wasn’t enough to make her leave him. She caught at his mouth again and forced him to respond. He tightened his hand on her thigh and slid it up to her waist, pulling her closer, cradling her against his chest. He allowed his mouth to accept her questing lips, finally opening and searching for her tongue. His cock rose beneath her, fighting the prison of cloth that bound it.
“You’re angry with me for something,” she said. “Angry enough to go to another woman tonight.”
“I needed to fuck someone, with no words, no promises, no guilt. Any woman would do because I couldnae have the one I really wanted. But any woman wasnae enough because I...”
He bent his head, and his mouth began to search for access into her nightdress. He tugged at it, fumbling with the ribbons. Alex moaned, his breath hot against her.
“Christ, Megan, I need to taste you. Open the bloody thing.”
She unlaced her nightdress, and his lips followed her hands as she spread the cloth. He lifted her, his mouth eagerly seeking her breast, his tongue tracing the softness of her nipple. He pulled it into his mouth, and the suction spread fire through her. The flesh between her legs began to pulse, and she pushed her hips harder against him. She was having a hard time thinking, but she wanted to know.
“How many women, Alex?” she asked. “Who were they?”
“None. There were none. I couldnae bring myself to do it. Forget about them.” His mouth worked its way over her collarbone toward her throat. “’Tis naught to do with us.”
“Everything has to do with us.”
A low rumble came from his throat, the angry growl of a waking bear. “Does that include fucking your husband?”
Megan’s heart lurched. He couldn’t possibly know. She tried to pull back in his arms, but Alex wasn’t going to let her go. His hand swept up and circled around her upper arm. She gasped as his fingers dug cruelly into her skin.
“I came back earlier. Looking for you. There was only one woman I really wanted, but you were nowhere to be found.” He dropped a kiss on the edge of her jaw, then dragged her closer to whisper against her ear. “Because you were lying with someone else, fucking another man. I can smell it on you.”
She twisted in his lap, trying to dislodge his hands. “No, it wasn’t another man.”
Alex laughed, and the harshness of it made her tremble. “Well, it wasnae me. I think I’d know if my cock had been in you tonight.”
“He’s my husband.”
“Did you enjoy it? Tell me what he did to you.” He slid his hand between them, and his soft voice drifted up as he teased her nipple with his fingers. “While I fuck you.”
“Not tonight, Alex,” she whispered.
Oh, but she’d waited all night to feel him, and now that he was with her, she couldn’t seem to let him go. She arched toward him, and he dipped his head, sucking hard at her breast. Tucking her hands around his shoulders, she pulled him closer. Alex laughed softly and something snapped inside her.
She pushed against him, and when he released her, she scurried off his lap. She backed away, unable to meet the look in his eyes. The dark emeralds glittered in the soft light, and suddenly she felt as though she had been dropped somewhere worse than a bear’s den. She was back in the dragon’s lair. He leaned back in the chair, and she felt his smolder
ing dragon eyes rip down her body. She pulled her nightdress closed.
“Tell me what he did to you tonight.”
“No,” she whispered.
“He fucked you.”
“Was I supposed to say no?”
He stood up and started toward her. She wanted to back away, but listening to him seemed to paralyze her.
“I’ve given him back to you,” he said softly. “Are you happy now?”
He grabbed at her before she could move. His hands wrapped around her hips and yanked her against him. The strength of his arms, the pure masculine essence that oozed from every pore in his body and that length of rigid muscle jammed between them made her realize she could never walk away from him no matter what he said.
“Was MacGregor this hard?” His hand slid up her back, twisting in her hair. When he tugged, she was forced to meet his eyes. “Did your body tremble beneath his? Did your mouth search for his in the darkness? Did you cry his name? Did you come for him like you do for me?”
She closed her eyes as a small sob tore through her. He gave her a shake.
“Look at me,” he growled, “and do not cry. I’ll have no tears when I talk to you, Megan. I want to know. Did you come?”
“Aye.”
“Did he come in you?”
“Aye.”
“So he will give you the child,” Alex said softly.
Alex slid his hands up her body until he reached her face. Gently he cupped the back of her neck and pulled her closer, and looking in his eyes now, Meg was worried. The dragon’s wings had not been clipped. They had been merely shackled, and now that his chains had been cast off, he felt the lure of freedom, the power of his will. A dragon with freedom was risky, but a dragon with independence could change everything.
His voice was soft, the lilting melody of it a soothing balm, but his eyes were those dark emeralds, hard, unyielding, brimming with that indomitable will she both admired and feared, filled with that dragon spirit she would never understand.
“If there’s a babe born here, Megan, ’twill be his. Do you understand?”
“No, Alex, I don’t.”
He stared at her hard. “We will end this unholy bargain here and now.”
“I can’t give you up,” she whispered.
“You can, Megan,” Alex said, “and you will. You’ll do it for yourself. You’ll do it for him. ”
“You don’t want me for yourself?”
“No.”
Megan stepped toward him. She laid her hand on his bare chest, her fingers stroking the hair lightly. “Your heart is beating very fast. Why is that?”
“Because I’m drunk.”
“No, it’s because you aren’t telling me the truth. You know I belong to you as much as I belong to him.”
Alex shook his head and backed up a step. “I’ve no rights over you. Besides…I cannae abide this place. I need to go home.”
“You are home, Alex. Let me prove it to you.”
His legs met the back of the chair, and he dropped into it. The earlier daze she’d seen from the whiskey vanished as she straddled his thighs and sat in his lap. Within seconds she unlaced his pants, and the naked length of his cock rose between them. She lifted slightly, and the warmth touched her skin.
“’Tis wrong, Megan. I’ve given you back your husband. Please take him, and leave me alone.”
She leaned down and whispered in his ear. “Just fuck me, Alex.”
With a groan he slid inside of her, lowering her body, yanking her close, burying so deep she clutched at his arms. He dropped his head to her shoulder.
“I don’t know what the right thing is anymore,” he said.
She pushed at the dark head buried in her shoulder. “Just tell me you’ll stay, no matter what.”
“I cannae stay and not have you. I think you know it,” he whispered, “but you’re all I want.”
His strong hands swept under her, his fingers gripping her ass tightly as he lifted her up and down against him. It felt so good, and she didn’t want him to stop. He angled her differently and pulled her hard. She moaned with the spike of pleasure that swept through her.
His teeth nipped at her nipple, and as a quick bolt of pain flashed through her, he immediately soothed it with his tongue. His movements became frantic, almost too rough, as his hands gripped her painfully around her hips.
“You’d deny everything between us?” she asked. “You’d punish me for doing what I must?”
“No, I’d punish you for making me feel. I cannae find comfort in your arms. Even when this is over, you willnae belong to me. You will never belong to me.”
She caught her lip as her pussy spasmed around him. “Do you love me?”
His hands tightened, and she struggled to focus on him through the intense sensations flowing through her body. The look in his eyes made a tear drop from hers. He watched it slide down her cheek like something beyond his understanding. He shook his head.
“No, lass, I cannae risk loving you, but that doesnae stop me from wanting, and it doesnae stop me from taking. Shall I let you go because of it?”
“No, Campbell. Just shut up and fuck me. I’ve my own demons to fight. I can’t fight you too.”
Her head fell back as the orgasm took hold and her body trembled violently in his hands. Each rush of sensation that coursed through her muscles, her veins, her nerves spread fire under her skin as pleasure rippled through her. Alex pushed her down hard on his cock as his seed filled her. His sweaty face fell against her shoulder.
“Please go,” he whispered.
She caressed his dark hair and pressed a kiss on the top of his head, then rose. Her nightdress fluttered down around her legs.
“Tell me you’ll stay, Alex.”
“I can’t. Please go.”
She wiped a tear from her cheek and left him.
Chapter 12
He lay on the bed and let the room spin around him. He was a lousy drunk, and he knew it. He didn’t know what had possessed him to even start, let alone continue for hours and hours. He just wanted a little fortification for his encounter with Diana. They’d had a pleasant evening, an enjoyable dinner, but Diana Hendley had an ulterior purpose for inviting him to supper. She had Sam Tinsdale on her mind and wanted his cooperation in attracting Sam’s attention.
After he left Diana to dream of her blond Viking, he’d come home to find Megan in MacGregor’s bed. A resigned melancholy had settled around his heart, but he’d gone to the White Doe because he had to get the taste of decent women out of his mouth. He drank some more, played some cards, and in the final hours of his evening had thought to fuck someone. It hadn’t worked because he found that each woman who settled in his lap left him feeling like an utter waste of humanity. If that wasn’t enough, he’d turned into a total shit and fucked the woman he loved like a common whore. What a hypocrite he was. He’d been fucking women for over twenty years and had treated each one with kindness and respect, had given as much pleasure as he could, and hopefully left each with affection and a warm and lasting memory.
Then Megan comes along, and for the first time in his life he wants to feel something, and the woman he’d give anything to have can never be his. No matter what choices he makes. No matter how much he wants it. No matter who and what he betrays. No matter that he’s willing to abandon his homeland, his clan, his duty. No matter that he’s willing to sacrifice his reputation, his pride, his commitments.
“Fuck.”
It was bloody poor timing and probably exactly what he deserved. He should have said that as much as he wanted to be in her life, it wasn’t possible. He should have said that all he wanted was her happiness and he’d do anything to help her find it.
But he couldn’t do any of that because if he did…
“It would kill her,” Alex said softly.
Alex groaned and sat up, wincing at the pain that spiked through the top of his head. The room continued to spin, and he deserved that queasy feeling rolling around in
his gut. He grabbed the mug of water sitting on the table and took several long gulps. His stomach roiled, and he thought he might puke, but he managed to hold it down.
He swung his legs to the side of the bed and caught his head in his hands before it could fall off his body. His hair was sweaty, hanging in his eyes, but he didn’t have the strength to push it away. He’d gone outside earlier and plunged his head into the barrel, but the smell of the liquor still lingered, and it disgusted him. He peered through the open door and saw that the door into the cottage was ajar. He saw a shadow flickering within, moving across the wall. Not the fire. A person.
He pushed himself to his feet. Christ, he’d been stabbed through the gut once and had his arm nearly torn off, and the pain of those injuries had been nothing like this. He put a hand against the wall to steady himself for a minute, waiting for his brain to settle in his skull. It seemed to be rolling around in there like a cannonball. He took a couple plodding steps into the storage room, unsure if he’d actually make it to the door.
When he did, he peeked inside.
Megan stirred something in a pot at the hearth. When she finished, she slid onto a bench and wrapped her hands around a teacup as though savoring the warmth inside. She sat quietly for a minute, then pushed the cup away. When he saw her head drop into the shelter of her arms and saw her shoulders shake with quiet sobs, something died inside of him.
He pushed the door open, and at the sound, she bolted upright, furiously wiping her cheeks.
“Megan.”
“I’m fine, Campbell.”
“You don’t seem fine.”
She wiped her hand across her nose, sniffing. She rose and went to the hearth, ignoring him, stirring her little concoction. He leaned against the wall because he didn’t have a choice. He was having a very hard time standing.
“You need to go to bed, lass. You’re tired.”
She turned to him furiously, swinging the spoon like a weapon. “So I’m to take orders from you now? You’re an indentured servant, Campbell, not my bloody husband, as you keep pointing out.”
Loving Two Highlanders Page 18
