The Laird's Daughter, Moriag Series, Book 4

by Hildie McQueen

  "And somehow this relates to my neck being sliced?"

  Elsbeth had to fight not to strike him again. She ground her back teeth. "They described the Campbell's son and remarkably, he sounds much like you. Fair hair, light blue eyes...."

  "Or you except that you are female," he replied, each word dripping with ice. "I fail to see why any of this prompted you to dress like a lad and rush to find me. Unless of course, you were in dire need of slapping a man across the face."

  "Ian!" Elsbeth exclaimed and grabbed his arms. "I am not in the mood to play a game with ye. I came because I overheard them talking last night. They are not sent by the laird, but by one of his sons. They are being paid to kill Griogair, the laird's eldest son and heir."

  "If the Campbell's son does not wish to be found, what makes them think he'd seek to take his father's place?"

  Her foot tapping was the only sound for a few beats. "Mayhaps he is biding his time for such a thing. Once the Campbell dies, he will reappear and take his place." She watched for any sign of what he thought, but the damn man's demeanor remained without expression.

  Her shoulders drooped at concluding he'd not talk about it. Obviously Ian, or Griogair if she guessed correctly would not admit anything to her. She turned away and moved closer to the fire. "I dressed as such to avoid being followed.” The sound of raindrops on the roof angered her more at realizing she'd have to wait it out to leave. Ian was not the man she'd fancied herself in love with just minutes earlier. Who he really was and why he chose not to be honest was not necessarily her business. What bothered her most was thinking they were friends. The entire time, she'd been friends with a man who posed to be Ian McRainey.

  "I am your friend," his voice was soft behind her. Elsbeth didn't turn for fear her feelings for him would be evident. He let out a breath. "Never think that I do not appreciate you. Things can be complicated at times."

  "I am very aware of complications," she said not expanding. "You have not denied being Griogair Campbell." She turned to find he'd moved closer, his gaze scanning her face.

  Once again he deflected the subject. "Yesterday when we spoke, there was something left unsaid. In your eyes I saw expectation. Although you did not speak it, in them I saw a question. What was that question?"

  Had she been so transparent? Even before admitting how deep her feelings ran for him, a part of her had reached out to him. It was only Ian who could keep her from leaving Moriag. Yet, both knew her father would never agree to a marriage between her and a common guard. If he were indeed the most powerful laird in the Highlands son, would things be different?

  The Campbells were not allies to the McNeils, quite the opposite.

  Tears burned at her eyes and she lowered her gaze. He'd betrayed her pure and simple. How could she share such deep feelings with a man who'd lied the entire duration of their friendship? Elsbeth took a step back and looked away. "It seems we've come to an impasse." The rain fell harder yet she had to leave, get away from him, the cottage shrunk considerably around her since she'd entered.

  "The Campbell took my wife." Ian's voice was deadly calm. "She went to his bed willingly, at least that is what she said to me. Laird Campbell did not deny it when I confronted him. Quite the opposite, he gloated telling me she sought him out."

  Although he kept a neutral expression, his gaze told another story. Hands fisted to his sides it was obvious the hatred he felt for the man had not lessened. "I attempted to take her with me when I left, but she refused. The foolish woman hoped to become his wife, had convinced herself he would leave my mother for her."

  "So you left, never to return? What about your mother?" Elsbeth asked closing the distance between them. Instinctively knowing not to touch him at the moment, she stood near enough that he could reach out to her if need be.

  "I was angry and too young to think of more than myself. I did return to see my mother once. She was well. My wife and father remained lovers. My mother accepts it and refused to leave with me."

  She didn't have to ask, but did. "If your brother seeks to have you killed, that means your Da could be dying, or dead. He must fear you will take lairdship. Will you?"

  Ever so slowly, his gaze met hers. The bottomless sadness in them broke her heart. "Aye I will return if indeed the laird has died. But I will not accept lairdship. The Campbells wouldna allow it, not after I left for so long. Although they couldna stop me from what is my right, but I wouldn't live long after."

  The more he spoke the deeper his Highland accent became. It was as if by allowing her to know him, he'd lowered another shield of protection.

  "What of your wife?"

  "No longer, I doona know why I call her that." He shrugged. "She divorced me after I left, which the laird urged the clergy to do without me present. Not that I cared at that point."

  He cupped her jaw, his hand gentle. "Thank you for coming to warn me. I will go to the Campbell keep and ensure my brother knows I doona seek the lairdship. He can have it. Liam is his father's son."

  Elsbeth didn't question his last statement, so intent on the warmth of his touch, not wanting him to ever stop touching her. She covered his hand with hers and leaned her face into it. "Ian...Griogair..."

  "I am Ian McRainey. The other part of me is long dead." The tightening of his face emphasized his words.

  "You cannot go alone. The men will catch up to you."

  "I must. ‘Tis easier to hide one horse than twenty," his smile made her chest constrict in fear.

  The rising and lowering of his chest took her attention. He was tall, much taller than her with wide shoulders on which he often draped the Gordon tartan. With a muscular build telling of years of honing his battle skills and long blond hair, he looked more a Viking than a Highlander. He was a handsome man, but more than that, with sky blue eyes and full lips his features made for the man she'd dreamed of marrying since a young girl.

  "Your silence means you are pondering something very deep." He said with a smile. Yes he knew her well, their close friendship of sharing many things meant he could decipher her musings, hopefully not what she considered now.

  A slow heat rose to her cheeks and she turned away. "I should return. I cannot remain here. My Da would have your head on a spit." She attempted at a smile. "Although a handsome head it will be."

  He looked past her to the tiny window. "It rains too hard. Wait until it lessons and I will escort you to Declan's keep. You can remain there overnight."

  Without prompting her eyes went to the bed behind him. The cottage was furnished simply but each piece was well made. It was obvious it belonged to someone with coin, by the heavy bedding and polished goblets on the table. "Do you keep food in this place?" She attempted to sweep past him toward the small space reserved for food preparation.

  He took her arm and brought her closer to him. "You have not answered my earlier question."

  It was hard to swallow past the lump that formed in her throat. She'd been so angry with him for lying, and now she was faced with the same dilemma. Nothing would be harmed if she told him the truth, other than her own heart breaking when Ian told her he didn't feel the same, which she supposed would not surprise her.

  After a long exhalation she relaxed into his hold, but he did not release her. Instead his hand slid up and down her upper arm urging her to speak. The touch made her body come to life at thinking how she'd enjoy him touching more than just her arm. It meant nothing. A friend would do that she chided herself.

  "I admitted to you that I do not wish to ever leave Moraig. I did want something from you when I said it...your help to stay."

  "There is little I can do Elsbeth." The darkening of his eyes perplexed her, but she could not stop now. They'd never have this opportunity again. He would venture north and she would remain to be present when the Seton came in a few days.

  "Ian, you can help me remain, marry me. I love you. I wish to be with you always." Elsbeth held her breath, yet at the same time a burden lifted off of her shoulders. The trut
h made her light and almost giddy. Yes, his reply would change everything, but for a few moments she allowed the freedom of truth to fill her.

  His eyes widened and his mouth fell open at her declaration. For a long moment they remained still as his gaze scanned her face as if expecting her to retract her words. She almost did, suddenly feeling like a fool.

  But she remained strong lifting her chin defiantly. "And there is nothing you can do about how I feel."

  She lost her breath when he yanked her against him, his strong arms circling her in a tight embrace. He nuzzled her hair in silence.

  The silence was as good as any words he didn't speak.

  Ian did not feel the same.

  Chapter Four

  The darkness that loomed after learning his brother sought to have him killed became even darker by Elsbeth's admission. Even so, his heart sang at her words confirming what he dreaded. For the second time in his life he was in love, though not like his first wife. This was so different. What he felt for Elsbeth was so much fuller, he could not let her go and let her witness what was surely etched on every inch of his face.

  While happiness at her words sent his heart on the brink of bursting with joy, every emotion slammed into the same obstacle with stark precision. Her father would never agree to a union with an untitled man. A man with nothing more to offer than his sword.

  He had to go north. If he didn't face his brother, the bastard would not cease in his attempt to have him killed. Power hungry and just as cruel as their father, the younger Campbell would ensure the powerful clan remained as such. Liam was the perfect person to take his father's place in more ways than not. He let out a breath, not releasing Elsbeth.

  Her soft curves brought out so many reactions in his body he lost count. He was hard and breathless, while at the same time his insides softened. He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted any woman. To feel the full mounds of flesh in his hands would make any other woman disappear from memory. She was beautiful, intelligent and caring; dangerously enticing, with a touch of innocence. He doubted she'd ever lain with a man. It had been impossible not to picture her bereft of clothing in all the months they'd been friends, for her body was perfectly formed. Breathtakingly delicate yet so strong willed; her personality veiled the delicacy quite well.

  When she'd been heartbroken at his betrayal, he was incapable of not telling her the truth. How could he now not be forthright? He'd not lie. At the same time, he could not tell her the fullness of how he felt for her, for he had yet to come to grips with it himself.

  Instead he lifted her face to him and covered her mouth with his. Perhaps his words could be better conveyed with a kiss.

  If shocked by his lips covering hers, she did not act like it. Elsbeth responded by gripping his shoulders, her mouth accepting and enthusiastic in returning the kiss with as much passion as he felt. It was a colossal mistake, for he'd never be able to stop. God let her pull away because if she didn't he'd be a lost man.

  Her arms encircled his neck and her fingers threaded through his hair. Elsbeth pulled him closer crushing her delicate body against his; the contrast immediately sent his blood surging. It was almost as if it was he who was the inexperienced one, kissed for the first time so sweetly, that his entire being threatened to become undone.

  She trailed kisses from his mouth to his jawline, soft moans escaping that only served to make him hold her tighter. "I want you Ian. If I am to be married to the young Seton, let it be you that show me what it can be like."

  Ian squeezed his eyes shut. Of the two, he had to be the stronger, the one to push away and think sensibly. Her sweet mouth closed over his again and there was nothing else, his sole purpose became to protect her, to keep her, to take her. Elsbeth was his and he'd kill before ever allowing another man to take what was his.

  "Never," he growled lifting her into his arms. "No other man will ever touch you. You are mine."

  Elsbeth was shaken by the ferocity of his words. Her entire body tingled with expectation. Ian's face was like stone, determination masking the usually warm expression when with her. He stalked to the small bed, every inch the silent warrior. He placed her beside the bed. "Undress Elsbeth." Although his words were spoken in a soft tone, there was nothing soft about the command. "If you are to change your mind, do it now. And even then, I cannot swear you will leave here without me taking you."

  The change in him sent tingles of desire through her, every part of her body reacted with excitement, her sex constricted. Of course he would know she would never desire a soft man, someone who asked for permission or would treat her like a scared virgin. She was a virgin, but far from inexperienced.

  Her hands trembled as she untied the breeches from her waist and allowed them to fall to the floor. Next she fingered the hem of her tunic, her eyes on him the entire time. "What about you? I expect the same. I want to see you."

  Ian's eyes widened for an instant and he visibly swallowed. His lips curved. "All in due time, now the tunic."

  It was not the time for hesitation; she lifted the garment over her head and discarded it. Standing before him fully bare made her feel powerful. By his rapid breathing and flared nostrils, he could barely restrain himself from coming to her. His gaze swept over her and the man trembled with desire.

  Her lips curved and she let out a breath. Ian may not admit it to her, but he was in love with her. There was no other explanation for when their gazes clashed, his eyes were filled with so much care and desire she almost wept. "Come to me Ian, I need you."

  In two steps he crushed against her, his strong arms encircling her. Once again their mouths came together in a kiss filled with desperation and expectation. His tongue delved past her lips, and she relaxed against him, tasting what he offered.

  He was gentle yet firm sliding his calloused hands up her body then back down to cup her bottom. Kissing a trail to her ear, she shivered when he breathed. "I want you so much it hurts. How can it be that I cannot bear not having you?"

  With jerky movements, he pushed away and began yanking the clothes from his body. His boots thudded as he kicked them off and he bent to remove his trews. She could not move, her eyes devouring every inch that he revealed.

  Magnificent was the only word she could use to describe him. He was solidly built, yet not overly large. Every part of him was perfectly toned, perfect for the physical demands of guarding a laird. He was built for battle, for speed and for bedding. If there was a woman who could ever resist such a sight, Elsbeth could not imagine it. Her mouth watered at the scandalous thoughts of tasting him, of different parts of him in her mouth. Elsbeth let out a sigh, unable to tear her gaze away as he closed the distance between them and let out a moan of relief when his body touched against hers.

  She ran her hands up his broad back enjoying the surprising feel of his soft skin over the hardness of his muscles. Upon reaching the tips of his hair, she raked her fingers through and looked up at him.

  He studied her face, his expression for a moment, his expression unreadable. "That you chose me is an honor Elsbeth. I am humbled at this moment. I want you so much my heart aches." His face softened. "I am fully and totally yours. My heart, body, and soul."

  Her mouth fell open at his open declaration and her heart tightened in her chest. She blinked away the tears his words brought. "Truly, I never expected so much. I cannot reply with more than to say you are the only man for me."

  Ever so gently, he pressed his mouth against hers, the gesture almost reverent. The kiss was gentle yet it conveyed every emotion. The hardness of his body a stark reminder that the man was anything but gentle, he’d only softened at the moment for her. To convey how in spite of his nature, he would never use force when it came to her.

  Elsbeth growled in frustration at him not doing more and she pushed up against his mouth, her hands gripping his head. "Harder warrior."

  With a soft chuckle, he complied and immediately transformed the kiss to passionate and unyielding. He lifted her and laid her
upon the bed, and lay over her. His heaviness felt perfect, a blanket of wonderful protection. His mouth moved to her breast taking the taut tip in. At the first suckle she gasped, her sex tightening.

  His tongue played over each nipple while his hands slid down to her hips and lifted them to grind his hardness against her wet center. She wanted him inside her so much it was almost painful.

  "Take me." She demanded digging her fingernails into his buttocks. "I am so wanting." Her voice was husky and breathless.

  "Not yet, love." He trailed his tongue between her breasts and down her stomach as she became lost in the sensations assaulting her body. Without prompting her legs parted just as he moved between them. When he licked between her folds and flicked at the already throbbing nub, she lost control. She cried out as her body split into fragments, sending her floating. "Ah!" She was unable to keep from exclaiming. "Is there more?"

  He blew against her sex, his breath sending tingles anew and chuckled. "Yes love, there is more. But you have never joined with a man. I have to ensure you are prepared. I want this to be enjoyable for you."

  Once again his mouth took her and she dug her fingers into his hair. She became lost so much so that when he took her mouth, she'd not realized he moved over her. He nudged at her entrance with the tip of his hardness and she let out a breath. Finally.

  It was an odd sensation. It seemed as if he was much too large to fit, yet he did. With slow precise motions, he entered her. She lifted her legs to wrap around his waist and held her breath.

  "Elsbeth, look at me." The command was quiet and strong. She opened her eyes meeting his darkened gaze. He remained still, the shaking of his arms the only evidence of his restraint from fully joining with her. "Relax, let out your breath and open your mouth. Take me into your mouth."

  He leaned close and pushed his tongue into her mouth. She began to suckle it, loving the way he tasted. He pulled her tongue into his mouth, kissing her so thoroughly she gasped in surprised when he pushed into her body, his length piercing her maidenhead.