by Connie Mason
He deepened the kiss, his tongue thrusting past her lips, delving deep into the sweet warmth of her mouth. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed her taste until he was inside her mouth, exploring as he wanted to explore another, more intimate part of her anatomy.
When she didn’t kiss him back, he raised his head and stared into her eyes. He knew the question she wished to ask before she voiced it.
“Why, Ross? Why are you doing this?”
“Because I canna help myself.”
He raised his body over hers and slowly lowered it, trapping her between him and the mattress. He grasped her hands, holding them above her head while he continued kissing her. When Gillian didn’t protest, he released her arms, raised the hem of her night rail, and lifted it up and off. Then he lavished wet kisses on her breasts and nipples, laving them with his tongue until she moaned approval.
He felt her body relax beneath his, felt her lips soften as her arms came around him. She tugged at his clothes. He obliged her by rising and quickly shedding his shirt and braies. As naked as she, he crouched between her legs and nudged the opening of her sex with the blunt tip of his cock.
“Nay,” she murmured, pushing him away. He thought she meant to deny him despite her initial acceptance, and started to rise. He had too much pride to force her.
“Stay,” she softly whispered as she rose up and straddled him. “I’m not yet finished with you.” Slowly she slid down his body. A groan escaped him as her hands roamed down his thighs and grasped his cock. When she lowered her head and touched her lips to his erection, his heart nearly burst from his chest. He clutched the bedding as she stroked him with her tongue, kissing his length and then slowly encasing him in the heat of her mouth.
Ross roared and arched so violently, Gillian started to topple off him. Watching her give him pleasure had taken more control than he possessed. Heaven couldn’t be this sweet. He caught her in his arms and pressed her into the mattress beneath him.
Kneeling above her, he fought the need to plow into her and drive himself to completion. After she’d pleased him in such an extraordinary manner, he wanted to give her the kind of pleasure she deserved. Whether she was guilty of betrayal or nay, he still wanted this woman, this flame who had burned her way into his soul.
He lowered his body onto hers and kissed her. Gillian matched his kiss with an intensity that left him breathless. He could wait no longer. Shifting his hips, he impaled her. A fierce ecstasy he couldn’t ever recall experiencing before overwhelmed him. He brushed soft kisses along her throat, catching a nipple in his mouth and suckling, savoring the sounds of pleasure and encouragement whispering past her lips.
Driven by a need so strong he could no longer deny it, he began thrusting and withdrawing again and again into the scalding inferno between her thighs. He grunted his approval when she wrapped her legs about his hips and met his pounding loins with sweet violence.
Gillian felt her world spin out of control as Ross filled her again and again. As she neared the crest, she could think of naught but reaching paradise with Ross. Then her thought process ceased as her muscles clenched around him. Unbearable sensation filled her as scorching fire melded pain and ecstasy into a breath-stealing climax. She heard Ross cry out, felt the explosion of his seed, and then she knew no more.
Gillian didn’t hear Ross’s soft curse as he pulled out of her and collapsed on the bed. Nor did she see his fierce expression as he left the bed. She had already fallen asleep.
Ross returned to his own dismal chamber in a daze. He had wanted desperately to stay with Gillian, to share her bed and to know that her warm body would be beside him when he awoke in the night. Though he wanted to believe everything she had told him, he needed time to think, to make a decision that would be right for both of them.
Weary of the snow that kept him confined, of circumstances that made his life a living hell, Ross blew out the candle, shed his clothing, and climbed into bed. Small hands groped him. He reared up, immediately aware that he wasn’t alone. The woman in bed with him was naked and relentless in her pursuit of his body.
“I came to you as soon as Niall fell asleep,” Seana murmured against Ross’s ear. “I learned you’re not sharing Gillian’s bed and didna want you to be lonely. I ken how to please you, Ross.”
Ross leaped out of bed, fumbled for a flint, and lit the candle he had doused moments earlier. “Go back to your husband, Seana. I have no need of you, not tonight, not ever.”
Seana didn’t bother covering her breasts as she sat up in bed. “Since when have you become a monk? How long have you been without a woman?”
Ross had no intention of answering. Instead, he found Seana’s night rail on the floor and thrust it at her. Seana gave the night rail a scornful glance and waved it away.
“Never say you intend to remain faithful to a woman who has betrayed you. I was there, Ross. I saw Gillian and Angus wallow in lust while you hovered near death.”
“ ’Tis your word against Gillian’s,” Ross replied.
Ross’s patience dangled by a slim thread. He was nearly convinced that he had been wrong about Gillian, that everyone had been wrong except Gizela. Seana was not above lying; nor would she shy away from using poison to gain her own selfish ends.
“Och, ’tis not like you to trust the daughter of your enemy.”
“Your father tried to kill me. Would that not make you my enemy?”
“Nay. Blame Angus Sinclair. He told my father falsehoods about my treatment at Ravenscraig, forcing Da to defend my honor.”
Ross snorted. “You have no honor, Seana McHamish. Leave this chamber before I have to throw you out.”
Seana must have realized that Ross meant what he said, for she slid out of bed, grabbed her night rail from his outstretched hand, and shrugged into it.
“Are you sure you want me to leave?” she asked, rubbing her thinly clad body against him.
He pushed her away, strode to the door, and held it open. “Verra sure. Good sleep, Seana.”
Sending him a look of loathing, Seana stormed out the door. Ross closed and locked it behind her. Though he returned to bed, sleep did not come easily. He thought of Gillian and how badly his callous treatment of her must have hurt. Even though he’d publicly rejected her, he hadn’t been able to control his raging lust for her. He was beginning to think that lust wasn’t all he felt for his flame-haired wife.
The longer Ross thought about Gillian, the more something about her bothered him. If he hadn’t been so needful, he might have recognized what it was about her that troubled him. If he had stayed with her instead of fleeing her bed like a coward, he might have satisfied the curiosity that now plagued him. But he had been so confused about his feelings, he wasn’t ready yet to face Gillian in the light of day. And mayhap he was only imagining things.
Gillian awoke the following morning to sunshine. A smile curved her lips. No matter how much Ross tried to deny it, he wanted her, not just for a night but forever. He might even love her. Though she’d been disappointed to wake up alone, she knew Ross often rose earlier than she did. She’d wanted to wake up in Ross’s arms. She frowned, unable to recall when exactly he had left her bed. No matter—they had a lifetime together.
Alice scratched on the door and entered the chamber. “Good morning, my lady. The snow has ceased for the time being, and the sun is shining. ’Tis amazing how a little sunshine can lift one’s spirits.”
“Indeed, sometimes little things can change one’s outlook on life.” Gillian smiled; making love with Ross was no little thing. “Help me dress, Alice.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Famished.”
“ ’Tis a good sign that your bairn is thriving.” Alice grinned, “My mother told me.”
Gillian spread a hand over her stomach, gently fondling the barely discernible bump. Though it was too early to feel him move, she knew he was there. Ross’s baim. Would Ross be happy to learn he would soon become a father? Gillian wished she had
told him about the bairn last night, but she had been so exhausted, she fell asleep. When she had awakened, Ross was gone.
Gillian dressed carefully in a dark green gown with sage-green trimming. Alice cinched a belt of gold links loosely around her hips and dressed her hair in a becoming style. Then Gillian wrapped herself in her plaid for added warmth. She wanted to look her best for Ross. After last night she had high hopes for their marriage and wished to win acceptance from his kinsmen.
Gillian left her chamber while Alice remained behind to straighten up. Gillian’s mood was confident as she descended the stairs and entered the hall. She scanned the chamber for Ross, and when she didn’t see him she joined Gordo at the high table.
“Good morning,” she said cheerfully. “Where has Ross gotten himself off to this morning?”
Gordo sent her a strange look. “Ross has left Ravenscraig.”
“Left? Where did he go?”
“ ’Twas such a fine day, he decided to pay a call on McHamish. Niall and a few of the lads accompanied him. He’ll likely be gone two or three days. He left me in charge of the keep.”
Gillian felt a knot form in the pit of her stomach. Ross’s visit to McHamish meant that he hadn’t believed her explanation. Her heart sank. All her hopes for their future flew out the window. Had last night meant naught to Ross? Did he believe naught she had told him? Apparently not, else he would have saved himself a trip to McHamish Keep.
“Did Ross leave a message for me?”
“None that I know of. His leaving was rather sudden. He wanted to take advantage of the good weather.”
Gillian managed a smile for the serving girl who placed a plate of eggs and ham in front of her. But when she swallowed the first bite, the food sank like a rock in her stomach. Her gut roiled, and nausea rose up to choke her. She excused herself and rushed from the hall. She barely made it to the garderobe, where she lost the meager contents of her stomach.
She was still trembling as she walked to her chamber. Suddenly she stopped and glanced around her. She had the strange sensation that she was being watched, yet the corridor was empty.
“If that’s you, Gizela, show yourself,” Gillian said.
When Gizela failed to appear, Gillian decided she was imagining things and continued on to her chamber. Alice smiled at her when she entered, but her smile changed to concern when she saw Gillian’s pale face.
“Are you ill, my lady?” Alice asked solicitously.
“My breakfast didna agree with me, Alice. ’Tis naught to worry about. Mayhap I’ll lie down for a while and take my midday meal in my chamber.”
“Can I bring you anything?”
“A piece of dry toasted bread might help settle my stomach.”
Alice helped Gillian out of her gown and into bed before she left. Gillian closed her eyes and reviewed in her mind everything Ross had said and done last night. He’d said naught about visiting the McHamish today. She consoled herself with the knowledge that no one had known there would be a break in the weather.
Still, Ross wouldn’t leave in unpredictable weather unless he believed she had lied about her reasons for being with Angus Sinclair and sought to question McHamish about it.
Gillian’s weary mind shut down as sleep claimed her. She slept until midafternoon and awoke hungry. She found the toasted bread Alice had left, along with two bannocks, and ate every bite, deciding it would hold her until the evening meal. Donning her chamber robe, Gillian remained in her room the rest of the day, finally dressing when Alice arrived shortly before the evening meal.
When Gillian left her chamber, she again felt as if she were being watched. Hackles rose on the back of her neck as she proceeded toward the stairs. Did someone wish her harm? Did the anxiety she was experiencing have anything to do with her pregnancy? She’d have to ask Gizela about it the next time she saw her. Gillian gave a sigh of relief when she reached the hall and was safely seated beside Gordo.
Another tense moment arrived when Seana made a belated appearance and seated herself on the other side of Gordo. But since Seana didn’t attempt to converse with her, Gillian relaxed and enjoyed her meal without the digestive discomfort she had suffered early that morning. Since Gillian saw no softening toward her from Ross’s kinsmen, she excused herself immediately after she had eaten. She felt Seana’s narrowed gaze follow her from the hall and hastened her steps. She didn’t sleep well that night.
Since breakfast was nearly always a disaster for Gillian’s newly delicate digestion, she chose not to show her discomfort in front of Ross’s kinsmen and ate both breakfast and the midday meal in her chamber the next two days. By dinnertime she was usually ready to venture down to the hall to sup.
However, the sensation of being watched, of some unknown danger threatening her, did not disappear. If anything, it increased. But today of all days Gillian was determined to sup in the hall, for Gordo had told her that he expected Ross to return in time for the evening meal.
After an absence of several days, Gizela showed up in Gillian’s chamber as Alice was helping her dress that evening.
“Where have you been?” Gillian asked. “I havena see you for days, and I wanted to seek your advice.”
“I’m sorry, lass, but a woman in the village was having a hard time giving birth. I was summoned the day the laird left and didna return until I was certain the bairn would live. Heed me well, lass, for I bring a warning.”
Gillian forgot her own misgivings when she heard Gizela’s words. “What kind of warning?”
“You are in grave danger. ’Ware the darkness.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Gizela closed her eyes. “I see darkness; I see danger, I see someone trying to snuff out the flame.”
“You are frightening Gillian,” Alice chided. “Go away, Gizela. Bring your doom and gloom to someone else.”
“The laird returns tonight,” Gizela said as she hobbled off.
“Pay her no heed, Gillian,” Alice soothed. She peered closely at Gillian. “Gizela has upset you. Forget her. Go down and greet the laird.”
Wearing her best gown and wrapped warmly in her plaid, Gillian left her chamber in a state of high anticipation. Now that Ross had learned the truth from McHamish, he would have no reason to accuse her of being unfaithful.
The first thing Gillian noticed was the noise wafting up the staircase. Then she recognized Ross’s voice. The next thing she became aware of was the lack of light in the corridor. The torch in the wall sconce was unlit. She made a mental note to tell Donald as she paused at the top of the winding stone staircase.
Then she heard a whisper of sound behind her, and Gizela’s warning hit her hard. She sensed danger, smelled it in the air, saw it in the shifting shadows around her. Before she could react, she felt something slam into her back. She swayed precariously and then lost her balance. As she hurtled headlong down the stairs, she screamed and crossed her arms over her stomach to protect her bairn.
Meanwhile, below in the hall, Ross warmed himself beside the hearth, telling Gordo about his conversation with McHamish. He had scarcely begun speaking when Gizela appeared beside him and tugged on his sleeve. He tried to shake her off, but she clung tenaciously.
“Hurry, laird,” she pleaded. “If you doona come now, you will be too late to save the flame and the spark that grows within her.”
“I am speaking to my kinsman, Gizela. I will make time for you later.”
“The time is now, laird,” Gizela persisted. “If you tarry a moment longer, it will be too late to save them.”
Ross’s temper flared. “Gizela, I—”
“Mayhap you should see what she wants,” Gordo suggested. “She looks distraught. We can continue our conversation later.”
Ross sighed and nodded. “Lead the way, Gizela. There had better be a good reason for this.”
Gizela made no reply as she flew from the hall. As he neared the bottom of the staircase he heard an ungodly scream, and knew immediately that Gillian
was in trouble. Pushing Gizela aside, he bounded up the stairs, taking them three at a time. When he saw Gillian falling toward him, he braced himself and caught her in his arms.
Though she had tumbled down but a few steps from the top landing before he had scooped her into his arms, Ross feared she might be badly hurt. But his concern now was to keep himself steady so that he wouldn’t stumble backward with Gillian.
Suddenly Gordo and Donald were at his back, their hands keeping him upright as he fought for balance.
“Steady, lad. We heard a scream and came as fast as we could,” Gordo explained. “What happened?”
“I doona know yet.” He looked down at Gillian. Her face was white, drained of all color, and her eyes were closed. “She’s in no condition to talk right now. You can let go, Uncle. I’m steady enough to carry Gillian to our chamber now. Where is Gizela? I want to thank her.”
“She wasna on the staircase,” Gordo said. “Mayhap the old crone isna barmy after all. Do you need help?”
“I can manage, but fetch Alice, and see if you can find Gizela. Gillian will have need of them.”
His balance restored, Ross continued up the stairs. His concern grew when Gillian clutched her stomach and groaned.
“Are you hurt, lass?” Ross asked anxiously.
Gillian opened her eyes. Ross noted that they were glazed with pain and shock. “The bairn,” she whispered. Her words were barely audible; Ross thought he had misheard her.
Ross was not surprised when he found Gizela waiting for him in the bedchamber. The healer always seemed to turn up when she was needed. “Put her on the bed,” Gizela ordered. “Be careful, laird; she is verra delicate.”
Ross placed Gillian in the center of the bed and stepped aside. He’d allow Gizela to examine Gillian, but he wasn’t going to leave her. He watched in consternation as Gizela gently prodded Gillian’s stomach and carefully felt her limbs for broken bones while speaking softly to her. Ross neither heard what she was saying nor Gillian’s replies. Gizela clucked her tongue when she felt the bump on Gillian’s forehead.
