She swallowed. She knew what he spoke of, what he wanted.
He cupped her chin and stared into her eyes. Sparks danced in the clear blue depths and then flared brighter as he leaned closer. Muscles low in her belly tightened. She forgot to breathe. His mouth brushed her lips with a tempting kiss. She drew a shuddering breath.
‘Come. This particular ride is over. ‘Tis time we returned.’
Rain peppered her flushed face, stung her tingling lips. She clutched the leather reins, more to keep her seat than to guide her mare home. The drizzle became a slashing downpour. She barely noticed the piercing, needle-like drops stinging her cheeks. She couldn’t stop glancing at Lachlan riding beside her, close, hunched forward, his concerned gaze constantly checking on her.
‘Not far, now,’ he called over the drumming rain.
Water ran down her face, dripped from her chin. She stared at his large capable fingers grasping the wet strips of leather. She wanted to feel them on her rain-slicked skin, sliding over her shoulders, skimming her thighs, tracing circles on her naked back. Icy rivulets trickled down her neck and spine, but couldn’t chill the warm embers glowing inside her, had no chance of dousing the heated thoughts burning inside her head.
They passed through the gates and ducking low, rode into the stables. Before her eyes had time to adjust to the gloom, Lachlan had dismounted and removed his mantle, and was reaching for her. He pulled her into his arms, cradled her against his chest and headed for the entrance. She was so caught up in her twirling thoughts, she didn’t comment on tending their mounts. She turned her face into his neck and inhaled sandalwood, leather and Lachlan.
‘You’re carrying me again.’
‘Aye.’
She relaxed against him and rested her cheek on his shoulder. The steady beat of his heart matched hers. I want you.
A claim he’d yet to fulfil. They were wed. He had every right to bed her, yet hadn’t. Why? Was he waiting for her assent? How was she to tell him she wanted him to show her the ‘more’ he’d hinted at with his softly spoken words and his tantalising touch?
Was it wrong to want her husband?
You never wanted a husband.
But she wanted Lachlan Elliot.
A chorus of muffled chatter interrupted her thoughts. The pounding rain ceased battering her shoulder.
‘Is all well?’ she heard Murdoch ask.
‘Aye,’ Lachlan responded without breaking stride. ‘My preparations?’ His deep voice rumbled in her ear.
Preparations? She should ask what he’d prepared, but was enjoying the feel of his arms about her. She buried her face deeper until her nose brushed the warm skin of his throat.
‘Have all been seen to,’ the steward replied.
‘Good.’
His stride changed as he climbed the steps.
Her curiosity grew. Lifting her head from his shoulder, she pushed on his leather-clad chest and looked into his face.
‘Preparations?’
‘Ah, my inquisitive wife. I thought you’d fallen asleep.’ She heard the smile in his voice, but the shadows in the stairwell hid his eyes. ‘You’ll not have long to find out.’
Chapter 18
The latch clicked. As Lachlan strode into the room, his deft fingers tugged loose the bindings of Kenzie’s cloak. A quick shift in his hold and the sodden mantle fell to the chamber floor. Her woollen cap followed. He searched, found her plait, flicked the tie from the end and combed his fingers through the wet strands to allow the warm air to dry her tresses.
Kenzie sighed as he worked his magic. The temptation to close her eyes disappeared at the sight of the steaming tub in front of the blazing fire. She shivered, as if her chilled body was already submerged in the hot water.
She peered down at the thick rug below the huge wooden vessel and her toes curled in remembrance of its comfort, its softness. She’d almost worn it bare with her pacing the night before, such was the worry she’d suffered for the man now holding her in his powerful embrace. The hollow feeling that had left her cold and empty no longer lingered inside her; it had vanished sometime in the night. Instead, an unfamiliar fullness swelled deep within.
Time seemed to slow, as if she were caught in a dream, her mind strangely sluggish yet piercingly aware.
The room dipped as he sat in the chair and cradled her in his lap. Her gaze wandered up his arm to clusters of wet, wheat-coloured hair hanging to his shoulders. A drop of moisture clung to the tip of one rain-darkened lock. It fell, slid down the dark leather covering the wide chest beneath as if searching for the tanned flesh below. A shadow beard deepened the bronzed hue of his square jaw, surrounding his lips and trailed downward under his chin. Her fingertips yearned to follow its path.
Lachlan leaned forward, his eyes locked with hers.
Anticipation swirled through her. Her pulse leaped.
His fingers fastened on her boot and tugged. With a thud, one boot fell to the floor, swiftly followed by the other. She flexed her toes, but kept her eyes firmly fixed on the corner of his mouth as he turned. His full lips suddenly tightened and thinned, stealing the softness.
Her brow furrowed. She looked higher, took in the shape of his nose. His nostrils flared. She looked up into simmering blue eyes. Sickening fear welled, rose in her throat and dried her mouth.
‘Your bath grows cold.’ His words were almost a growl, but it was the fierceness of his gaze that caused the blood to pound even harder at her temples. Emotions swirled, darkened the depths, robbed the light from his eyes. He glanced away. He looked confident, capable—uncertain. God in Heaven, she understood the tumbling emotions, understood the constant fight. Despite everything she believed in, she’d fallen in love with Lachlan. Fallen in love with the husband she never wanted.
A shiver rippled through her, sparking embers to flame in her heart. Her body hummed with giddy brightness, the sensation so beautiful, she bathed in its glory, drew strength from its uplifting power and searched his face in wonder for how and why.
His touch, gentle, masterful, awakened her senses. The sound of his voice, low and deep when he whispered in her ear, set her flesh to tingling. His laughter, pure magic, had the power to leave her smiling long after it had faded. The sight of him—oh, God. Up close, at a distance, the anticipation of setting eyes on him was enough to melt her insides and muddle her mind.
But it was more than touch, sight and sounds. His attention fixed on her, his desire for her, were real, unfailing, astonishing. They made her feel alive, confident, and special, as if she mattered. She’d spent her life overlooked, forgotten. Lachlan made her feel unforgettable.
A handsome man, an honourable man. A man in a position of power who used fairness and kindness to make decisions. A man who kept promises and was a master of mirth. A man who’d opened her eyes to all that was good. A man who’d let her just ‘be’ and taught her how to play. Encouraged her to live. A precious man.
Her husband.
She gave in to her fingers’ fondest wish and skimmed his whiskered cheek. His jaw hardened at her touch. Her body swayed as his chest filled with a long, deep breath. He exhaled slowly, the warmth of the air fanning her face, reminding her she too needed to breathe.
His head lowered. He stole the very air with a soft, lingering kiss. Desire weighed heavy on her lashes. She willed them not to close, to keep staring into his smoldering eyes. His muscles tensed beneath her thighs. Large hands spanned her waist as he stood, holding her against him, his mouth still clinging to hers. Her breasts tingled as she slid down is body, until her feet sank into the thick rug. He lifted his head, his lips. She clung to his strong arms as liquid longing flowed through her veins and destroyed her sense of balance.
Panted sighs drowned out the sound of crackling logs. A craving for more shook through her limbs. His hands clenched and unclenched at her waist, as if they didn’t know whether to hold her or let her go. Fire danced in his eyes, mirroring the flames he’d ignited inside her with his kiss, his touch, his
indecision.
‘I must go.’ There, again. His words implied one thing, his hands, his eyes, another. His hands fell away. A chill rushed in to take their place. He stepped back, breaking her hold.
She shuddered, wet her lips, tasted him on her tongue. A different fear swept through her, sent her fingers curling into fists. Her heart pounded as each terror within vied for supremacy.
Rejection wasn’t new to her; she’d known it all her life. Her thoughts renewed her inner strength, gave her the will to steady her shaking limbs. The only part of her she struggled and failed to calm was her quaking heart. If he denied her now, she was very much afraid her heart would shatter.
But her longing for his love was greater than her lifelong fears. If being intimate encouraged him to love her then she had to take the risk. This was her chance to find out.
‘Stay.’ The word slipped out on a desperate whisper.
He stopped. Stood as still as a rock. She couldn’t see his face, his eyes. Her body trembled. Air stalled in her throat. If he left, how would she go on?
Stretching to her full height, knowing her weakness lay hidden deep in her chest, she waited and watched as he slowly turned to look at her.
‘Why?’
Curse him. He was the experienced one. Surely he understood why.
I want you. ‘I want to know the “more”,’ she said softly. I love you. ‘I want you to show me.’
He filled the space he’d so recently left. Peering into her eyes, naught but his heat touched her, wrapped about her. His hot gaze stirred fresh life into the simmering embers her fears had doused. Warm hands cradled her face. Gentle lips brushed hers in a whisper-soft caress. He lifted his head, searched her eyes once more and kissed her again. She felt delicate. Special.
His lips left hers. ‘Do you trust me?’
She stared into the bright, sparkling depths of blue. ‘Aye,’ she whispered.
Eyes locked, his hands slid down her neck, glided along her shoulders and skimmed her arms, as if he sculptured her body with his palms. His touch left her skin rippling in its wake. A slow burn awakened in her belly as he sketched her hips by feel alone. Busy fingers bunched the hem of her tunic and began lifting the garment, skimming her thighs, hips, her waist—higher. She stiffened. Air froze in her lungs when his hands, her tunic, reached her chest.
‘I want to see you,’ he said quietly.
She lifted her arms, blinked, and her tunic was gone. Their gazes might never have broken. She exhaled and drew a shuddering breath, so full and deep, the worn fabric of her shift dragged over her breasts.
His awareness sharpened and dropped to her chest.
Her nipples hardened. Swift breath escaped her.
Twin spots of fierce heat captured her sides as his hands caught her up. The room swirled and then settled as her feet found purchase on the chair’s plump cushions. Her toes dug into the padding as she peered into his blue gaze, now level with hers. Long fingers wrapped about her knees. Slid ever upward, seeking, searching. Stopped. Fire danced in his eyes. Was it only flames of desire or did he feel more for her?
Her body trembled. She swayed. Reaching out, her hands grasped leather-clad shoulders, clung. His fingers descended, gently scraping her flesh as he peeled off her woollen hose, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their wake.
Dear Lord, he was stripping her bare, exposing her to the room’s cool air, yet she’d never suffered such devouring heat.
His palm pressed against her middle, burning her skin through her thin linen shift. Fingers splayed, his hand slowly slid up her body. Her teeth sank into her lower lip as his caress brushed the underside of her breasts and paused. Oh God. Her nipples tightened, pulsed. Ached for his caress. Her nails bit into his leather vest, wanting more, wanting the smoothness of his skin beneath her touch.
His hand moved to unravel the laces of her shift. With every brush of his fingers, her breasts quivered. How in God’s name was she meant to survive? She released her hold and swept her hands down to the leather bindings of his vest, her fingers tugging, shaking.
The ties gave way at the same time her knees buckled.
‘Easy, Kenzie. I’ve got you.’
He did. His hands cupped her bare shoulders. Every gentle sweep of his thumbs sent shocks of lightning down her arms and into her chest.
‘You’re wearing too many clothes,’ she said on a half sigh.
His eyes smoldered as his mouth curved in a dangerous smile. ‘Then remove them.’
‘Curse you, I’m trying, but you keep touching me, and my fingers—’
His hands speared into her hair and his mouth collided with hers, cutting off her words. His tongue swept between her lips, slid deep inside her mouth, seeking, skimming, capturing. A bolt of pleasure burst deep in her belly, flowed down to her most womanly place. Clenching, craving, quivering, wanting. Her tongue danced with his as a wild madness crashed through her, around her, consuming her.
An answering groan rumbled in his chest, trembled through hers, fed her starving need. Her senses scattered.
Hungry lips gnawed across her cheek, nibbled the sensitive lobe of her ear. Fingers swept over her shoulders, tearing linen in their quest to push her shift down her arms.
She shook her hands free. His mouth glided down to suckle the point on her neck where her blood pounded, hot and swift. She angled her head. Her stomach clenched.
His lips, his hands, suddenly left her. Cold air washed over her heated, bare chest. She shivered, and then melted as a powerful arm wrapped about her and pulled her forward. Her head fell back, cradled in the palm of his hand.
She moaned as questing lips left a trail of moist kisses from her neck to her chest. Hot, panted breaths fanned her breast. Her back arched and she spread her arms open wide, a willing sacrifice to her ravenous wanting, an offering splayed for his desire, his need. Her need.
‘Almighty God.’ His voiced rasped across her naked flesh.
Never had she experienced such power, suffered such an overwhelming sense of freedom. She opened her eyes. When had they closed? She glimpsed the rafters up high. Moist heat closed over one breast. Shocking pleasure crashed through her. Her lashes lowered, closing out everything but the feel of his tongue on her sensitive flesh.
Heart thundering, she moaned again as he kissed a wet path to her other breast, captured the peak in his hungry mouth and began his torturous laving once more. Her mind whirled. She gasped, reached out, sank her fingers in his hair, curled her arms about his head and pulled him closer. Hot lips shifted, climbed her chest to her neck, nipping, sucking until they claimed her mouth in a searing kiss.
A feeling of weightlessness stole about her. Her hands fisted in his hair. His lips melded with hers as he shifted her in his arms. Soft fur brushed the hot skin from her nape to her naked waist as he lowered her to the bed. A moment passed before he joined her, his heated body settling beside her. His fingers trailed fire along her legs from knee to thigh. Her hip tingled as his palm molded her flesh, before moving inward where pulsing need burned hotter.
She gasped as questing fingers brushed the soft curls between her legs. Panted into his mouth as he circled, toyed, found the place, the centre of her torment, her desperate wanting. A finger slid deep inside her. Her inner muscles clenched, wet heat pulsed. She arched her hips into his hand.
Fiery heat covered her. His weight pressed her into the cushioned softness. His fingers stopped, left her aching. She groaned into his mouth, broke the kiss.
‘Lachlan.’
He captured her leg below the knee and lifted it about his hips.
‘Look at me, Kenzie.’ He rasped the command.
She pried her eyes open, shaking, panting. Peered up into blue streaked with silver flames.
‘Hold on to me.’
She wrapped her arms about his neck as something warm and blunt slowly caressed the quivering flesh between her thighs.
‘Don’t. Let. Go.’ His hands cupped her face. His breathing ragged, he stared i
nto her eyes. ‘Kiss me, Kenzie.’
She rose up to meet his mouth as he swept down to claim hers. His kiss scorched her lips. She clutched his shoulders and drove her tongue deep inside his mouth.
Her legs trembled as pressure swelled and grew at her woman’s core. He pushed harder, slid deeper. Her insides clamped about him, pulsing, weeping and pleading for more. His lips turned hungry, ravenous, centring her senses on the pleasure of his plundering mouth.
Pain ripped through her lower body. A cry tore from her throat, spirited away, absorbed by the mouth covering hers. Her nails sank into flesh, her body stiffened. His kiss gentled, spread to the corner of her lips, her cheek and her tightly shut eyes.
‘Hush, Kenzie. Hush now, lass. There’ll be nae more pain, I promise. Hush, now.’
His tender words broke into the pounding in her ears, the keening moans slipping through her clenched teeth. Focusing on the sound of his voice and the feather-like lips brushing her face, her muscles relaxed, her fingers eased their biting hold. A tight feeling lingered between her thighs, a fullness deep inside. But the piercing pain had passed.
Her lashes fluttered then opened. The face above her looked strained. Jaw set, lips tight, eyes burning, his every inhalation swift and unsteady.
‘Was it painful for you, too?’
His thumbs caressed her cheeks as a smile softened his mouth. ‘Mine is more an ache rather than pain.’ His expression turned serious. His fingers stilled. ‘You’ll never suffer such pain again.’
She searched his gaze, read truth in the flinty blue.
‘I didn’t expect the “more” to hurt.’ She fleetingly wondered if there was something wrong with her. ‘You spoke of enjoyment, though I did enjoy every moment before …’
He chuckled and the pressure swelled within her. Her eyes widened.
‘Ah, sweet Kenzie. The best is yet to be had.’
‘There’s more?’
‘Aye, much more, and all pleasure, I promise you.’ His lips lowered and nibbled the side of her mouth. ‘You must give yourself up to it. Think of me touching you here,’ he brushed her mouth. ‘And here.’ His mouth skimmed her cheek and down her neck. A tiny shiver rippled along her skin. ‘And know I am buried deep inside of you … here.’
The Thief Page 17
