by Ruth Kaufman
“I agree with you there, brother.” Aidan paused and took another drink. “I am just grateful the gates were not damaged.”
“Aye. We must make repairs as quickly as possible, but I am thankful the baron was so inept at siege that he targeted all the wrong places.”
“Edward will not make that mistake.”
“’Tis sooth. If he brings us tae siege, then the battle turns toward his strengths. We need tae meet him on the field.”
“He is no slouch there either, Ronan.”
“Nay, he is not, but our odds are better on the field than they are behind our walls.”
“Aye.” Again he paused. “What did ye say tae Lia?”
“What do ye mean?”
“I saw ye talking, then she returned tae the pavilion only tae sit and tend her leg. She didna move from that spot but near drove Marta tae distraction with instructions tae tending what few wounded there were. She took me seriously when I told her no one would question her in the matters of healing.”
Ronan laughed heartily. “I merely told her if she didn’t get off that leg, I would tie her tae the chair.” He paused, his humor fading. “Damnation, Aidan, it was a miracle that rafter didn’t kill her or destroy her leg.”
Aidan swallowed hard, his face losing a bit of color.
Ronan stood. “Forgive me, but ye be right that I’ve been pushing myself too hard this day. I must see tae Lia.”
Aidan nodded and bid him good night.
But Ronan wasn’t quite finished for the evening. He called the servants to tote a hot bath upstairs before he went to the pavilion.
He found Lia asleep in her chair, her leg propped up before her and covered with damp linens. “Hey now,” he said, gently gripping her shoulder.
She started then blinked at him.
His smile grew at her muddled expression.
“Ronan? Is everything all right?”
“Aye,” he said and carefully lifted her into his arms.
“What are you doing?”
“Who heals the healer?” he asked softly. “Who tends tae her injuries and watches over her while she sleeps?”
Lia gazed up at him, a wealth of emotion in her eyes. “You?” she asked as if scarcely daring to hope.
“Aye, my sweet lass,” he murmured and carried her into his new solar.
Ronan set Lia on her feet, but she was careful not to put weight on her injured leg. Since she had been sitting, it now hurt like the blazes if she stood. She glanced around, stunned to see that what had just this morning been a wreck of a storeroom was now a wonderfully pleasant living space, warm and inviting.
Lia’s gaze fell on the huge tub filled with steaming water. She sucked in her breath and took an involuntary step back, staggering slightly.
“Nay,” Ronan whispered, his strong arms surrounding her.
“Who . . . who is that for?”
“For ye, lass,” he paused and grinned wickedly. “Actually, for both of us.”
Her stomach dropped and her heart slammed against her ribs.
Ronan studied her a long moment, the wonderful gleam in his eyes fading, and Lia suddenly wanted to kick herself. “Ye said ye loved me,” he whispered.
“I . . . I do.”
“I have found solace and comfort in yer arms. I wish ye tae find the same in mine . . . and perhaps even more.” He stepped closer, filling her vision. His fingers lightly traced down her cheek to her jaw and then down her throat. Their descent stopped at her collarbone where he shifted to trace along its length, back and forth, in a mesmerizing rhythm. She wanted to throw back her head and allow him to touch and explore all he wanted.
Lia studied the deliciously handsome man before her, admiring the clean and graceful lines of his face, the deep color of his steel-gray eyes. She was tired of fighting her desire for him. Suddenly, she realized she no longer cared about what was proper or what others might think of her. The only person who mattered stood before her . . . and he wanted her.
She reached up and caressed his cheek, and she was happy to see the wonderful spark return to his eyes. She allowed her fingers to travel from his cheek to the back of his neck where she wove them through his thick, soft hair. Tugging gently, she pulled his head down and touched her lips to his.
Her heart soared as he returned her kiss. A hot, heady desire blossomed within her. All she wanted to do was lose herself in their kiss.
His hands moved across the sides of her breasts and her entire body clenched. But then they traveled to her shoulders and gently down her back, moving slowly to her sides where his fingers found the laces of her dress. His lips moved from hers to trace a delightful path across her cheek to her ear. “Worry not, lass,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “I shall be gentle this eve . . . but I will make ye mine tonight.”
Ronan’s heart rejoiced. Lia didn’t push him away. He knew she was frightened—not so much of him but simply because she was a maiden. Even though she was a healer and no doubt understood the mechanics, that was a far cry from truly knowing what awaited her tonight. And tonight he would gently but firmly counter every doubt within her. He vowed she would know perfection.
He finished loosening the laces of her dress and it fell to the floor. She stood only in her chemise, the thin garment unable to hide the tight peaks of her breasts and the alluring shape of her narrow waist. He reached out and pulled at the tie at her throat and loosened the garment. She gasped as it fell to the floor. She automatically tried to cover herself as she stood before him in all of the beauty God had granted her.
“Nay,” he murmured, his hand catching hers. “Ye are so beautiful.”
She blinked up at him as if she could not believe his words.
He knew her life had been filled with heartbreak and sorrow. While Sueta had taken her in, given her shelter, and taught her a valuable trade, hers had not been the loving home the orphaned Lia had desperately needed.
The water in the bath would be growing cold, and he would not have her chilled. He helped her into it, her lame leg hindering her. But as she sank into the steaming water, a groan of sheer satisfaction escaped her. She allowed her head to fall back against the edge, her eyes closed.
Another wicked grin escaped him and he quickly shucked the remainder of his clothing, but he did not get into the bath. He knelt behind her, taking up the ewer, and poured warm water over her hair, careful to keep the water from her face.
Her brow blurred into a frown, but she didn’t open her eyes. “What are you doing?”
“I told ye, I am taking care of ye tonight.”
“Ye shall spoil me,” she murmured, mimicking his brogue.
He laughed and started cleaning her hair. Finally, he rinsed it, admiring the slick strands as they floated around her. She still had her eyes closed, apparently enjoying his attentions.
Ronan quickly took the opportunity to settle into the bath with her. He gritted his teeth against the desire roaring through him. The bath was not made for two people, so it was quite crowded. She tried to squirm away but had nowhere to go, and if she didn’t stop her squirming, she was going to find herself on his lap in a heartbeat.
“Ronan, wait,” she said, and only now did he realize the tight set of her jaw. He hesitated and she used both hands to lift her injured leg, which was now bent awkwardly, out of the water. She straightened it and braced her heel on the edge of the tub, keeping it elevated. Ronan’s gaze locked on the terribly discolored and swollen joint. Bloody hell, that was one thing that would stop him in his tracks tonight. If she was in pain—
“I’m all right,” she said, watching him intently. Water dripped from her fingers as she traced along his jaw to his chin and slowly but firmly forced him to look at her. She leaned forward and kissed him.
“Are ye certain, lass?” he asked, his lips brushing hers between kisses. “I dinna wish tae hurt ye.” Although there would be one thing tonight that would hurt, but there was no help for it.
“I am.” The glitter in h
er eyes sent a warning skittering through him. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw her heft the ewer, but before he could react, she dumped it over his head.
He spluttered against the water streaming over his face. “And ye call me the miscreant?”
She laughed, a sound that fair melted his heart and sent desire pounding through him at the same instant.
He shook his head, showering her with drops of water.
She squeaked in protest. “You beast!”
“Aye,” he growled, leaning closer to kiss her again.
She placed her fingers on his lips and stopped him. “Ye be all muck and muscle,” she said.
He arched an eyebrow at her. “I like hearing ye speak in the Scottish fashion.”
The blush rose beautifully on her cheeks, but again her hand shifted, and he caught a glimpse of soap moving rapidly in his direction. He laughed as she slapped it on his head. He realized he was uncovering a playful side to her that he had not previously seen, and he loved it.
“All right, lassie,” he growled, his lips brushing hers. “Ye are so determined tae wash my hair, do so; I shall busy myself with more enjoyable pursuits.” His mouth descended on hers and he kissed her deeply, their tongues tangling. She groaned softly, but her fingers continued spreading the soap through his hair—an action, he discovered that was delightfully sensuous. His hands closed around her narrow waist and moved upward slowly; he traced his fingers over the swell of her breasts. His breath caught in his throat and his heart hammered.
She pulled away and he was rewarded with another dump of water over his head.
He reared back. “Damnation, woman,” he growled, shaking his head again.
She grinned impishly at him. “One more. I have to get all the soap out.”
A third ewer of water followed.
This time he just lowered his head and laughed as water streamed around his face. “Are ye happy now?”
“Quite.”
“Good, for ye test my patience once again, lass.”
“And you would be disappointed if I didn’t.”
He hesitated, his humor fading as he realized the truth of her words. “Aye, lassie,” he murmured, his hand cupping her cheek. “I would have ye no other way.” He lowered his head until his forehead touched hers and closed his eyes. “I would love ye tonight, but I . . . ”
“I trust you, Ronan,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. Ronan’s heart shattered into tiny pieces. To have her place her faith in him was a greater gift than he could find words to describe. He wanted to take more time with her, he really did, but the demands of his body became as such he could no longer ignore them. Without care for the water, he scooped Lia into his arms and carried her to his bed.
Lia moaned softly as Ronan’s body pressed her into the bedding. His kiss never stopped, powerful but infinitely gentle. His tongue delved deeply into her mouth and she entangled it with hers. His rough hands caressed her, following the lines of her body. She trembled under him, her fingers exploring every cut and curve of muscle. He was so very beautiful to her.
He shivered under her touch as her hands moved lower, over his rock hard stomach that appeared as if it were made of cobbled stone. He groaned and she reached lower, gently stroking his hardened shaft.
Once again he devoured her, but she sensed his desire was tightly leashed. As he relaxed against her, she tentatively mimicked his actions and was rewarded with a soft groan from him. His hands pulled her tighter against him, and her body willingly conformed to his.
He moved, rolling onto his back and pulling her atop him.
She laughed, startled. He awarded her with his brilliant smile and returned to kiss her again. He encouraged her to cover his body with her own. Again she felt his shaft, swollen and wonderfully hard between them. He gently caught her hand in his then guided her to caress his chest. She pushed herself upward slightly, smiling down at him.
His hand continued to guide and direct. Her fingers traveled lightly over his chest and down his stomach, brushing over the small line of hair on his lower abdomen. He pulled her hand back up, and she felt his muscles clenching tighter. She closed her eyes and simply concentrated on the feel of the man beneath her hand as he guided her every step of the way.
He slowly pushed her hand lower then wrapped her fingers around his shaft and guided her to stroke him. His body coiled and he groaned in pleasure. “Aye, lass,” he murmured, his hips lifting in time to the movement of her hand. His hand guided her to stroke him harder and faster; she felt moisture bead on the tip of his cock.
His expression became one of what she could only describe as pure ecstasy. Her lips lifted in a smile of feminine power. His body coiled under her and every muscle stood out vibrantly. Her hand never stopped, but her eyes widened, drinking in the sight of the perfect warrior who savored her touch as she provoked him so intimately. His scars had faded to such a degree that she no longer saw them; all that existed was pure, untamed strength, raw power, and magnificence. Suddenly, he grunted, pulled her hand away, and in another lightning fast move, she found herself on her back with Ronan over her. He panted, trying to suck air into his lungs.
“Ronan?”
He grinned at her, a fire in his eyes she had never seen before. “Ye nearly brought me tae perfection, lass. I had tae stop ye before ye ended it too early.”
He caught her wrists in each hand, trapping them beside her head. He lifted himself and stared at her breasts.
Lia felt vulnerable under his gaze, but her fear had faded. “Ronan,” she moaned. “You’re making me insane.”
He awarded her with another devilish grin and licked his lips. Then his mouth descended on her breast and she gasped as it pearled under his tongue. He swirled his tongue around her nipple and nibbled it ever so gently. She gasped at the fire that shot through her. Hot dampness coated her thighs. He suckled her, and a riot of sensation exploded. Her moan came out unrestrained.
Just when she thought she could stand no more, Ronan released her breast only to move to the other. A whole new sensation crashed into her, and her entire body quivered underneath him. He released one of her hands but kept the other firmly in his grip. His right hand slid down her side, over her waist to her hip. She squeezed her eyes closed, reveling in his touch, the feel of his strong, calloused hands against her skin. She reached up and wove her fingers through his long hair, delighting in the contrast as the soft locks tumbled over her breast.
His hand moved to her hip then lightly moved over her mound of curls. She sucked in her breath as he gently slid his fingers over her wet folds. He caressed her softly, and suddenly she couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe, her vision refused to focus. A tiny mewling sound escaped her as her body opened to him.
He released her breast and lifted his head, just watching her while his fingers continued their journey. He thrust one finger inside of her and she gasped, but not in pain. Although she knew it would hurt, at that moment, she didn’t care; she never wanted him to stop. His fingers returned to stroke her, stronger, more demanding. Then he found her most sensitive place. Her breath caught in her throat and remained there for several heartbeats as her body responded; her legs opened even more and her hips lifted in time to the movement of his hand.
Still, he only watched her, but his own body seemed to grow more coiled, his muscles tightening under his skin and standing out in sharp relief.
Her fingers impaled his shoulder and she could barely gasp his name. A hot energy formed within her, a deep pleasure she had never experienced before. It grew in power under his touch.
“Aye,” he murmured, his voice guttural. “Find yer pleasure, lass.”
As the tempest he provoked within her grew, she found herself helpless under his touch. It was so intense that she needed it to stop but never wanted it to end. Yet there was something more her body demanded.
“Ronan,” she gasped. “Please!”
His fingers surged against her, and the
storm he had created ripped outward in pure sensation. He moved between her legs, and cradling her hip in one massive hand, he slid inside of her, tearing through her maidenhead.
But he had worked her into such a state that she barely felt pain; instead, it provoked the storm he had created into a new energy. He groaned as he slid inside of her, and Lia suddenly realized what had been missing—her body had been demanding him, filling her completely. The energy rippled outward, clenching every muscle within her. Ronan thrust deeply into her and she found herself clinging to him, calling his name. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, his body moving inside her with more freedom, but his actions remained infinitely gentle. The pleasure surging within her changed slightly, easing in its intensity but also building again. This time when it broke free, she embraced it completely and lost herself . . . she understood what Ronan meant when he called it perfection.
His release slammed into him with an intensity he had never known. Ronan kept driving himself into her as his fulfillment crashed over him in waves and for a moment, he wondered if it would ever stop—he didn’t want it to stop. He shuddered against her as he gave her all of himself. Finally, his arms refused to support him any longer and he collapsed on top of her. God, he couldn’t breathe; his muscles trembled violently, and his heart battered his ribs with such force he thought it might burst.
He lowered his head, struggling to control his ragged breathing. His lips took soft sips of her silky skin, and his hands caressed her, savoring the sweet lines of her form. Then he realized her body trembled just as hard as his. With a groan, he rolled off of her before he crushed the poor lass.
“Nay,” she said, her hands trying to pull him back.
His lips lifted and a giddy joy filled him. He pulled her on top of him and gazed into her beautiful eyes. His hand reached up and caressed her face, stroking through the locks of her still damp hair. Never in his life had he experienced such intensity while making love to a woman. As she gazed at him, her hazel eyes still smoky with desire, he knew it was her trust in him, her faith that he would never hurt her, that made all the difference. He knew instinctively he would only experience it with her. Her trust in him allowed her to give herself over completely. In turn, it allowed him to do the same. Never before had he given so totally, nor had he been given such a great gift, and it completely changed the way he would view lovemaking forevermore.
