The Highlander’s Hellion

by Eliza Knight

  She sighed. Now she was starting to sound like her sister Bella, the way she gushed over her husband, Niall, who seemed a prince among men.

  But Greer didn’t want a prince, as sweet and marvelous as they might be. She wanted a hellion—someone like her. And even though Roderick tried as hard as he could to keep himself contained, she’d been able to break open his shell more than once.

  Greer grinned at him, propping her head up on her elbow. “I would have stood and given ye a proper welcome, but I’m too tired to move.”

  The intensity of his gaze swept over her, sending chills over all of her limbs. He examined her from head to toe, and even though she lay with a light blanket and was fully clothed, she felt stripped bare and breathless.

  “Are ye hurt?” he asked.

  Her heart pounded at his perusal and the concern in his tone.

  “No more than the aches and pains I came with.” She managed a small smile, smoothing the blanket over her hip and watching the way his gaze glittered as he followed the movement. His gaze swept back up to lock on hers.

  “I’ve a feeling ye often have aches and pains, if my own are any indication.” He chuckled.

  “I’m too proud to take your jest as an insult,” she teased back.

  “Good, for I offer it only in good fun.”

  He was the perfect man for her.

  “Why do ye not come in? Sit.” She glanced down at his leg, taking note that he was favoring his weight on the other side. “If ye’ve the salve, I’ll be happy to rub it into your leg.”

  The intensity of his gaze darkened, and her throat went dry. What that gaze said… Every inch of her skin stretched taut, reaching for him, straining. Was this what it was like to be infatuated? She craved him. Craved everything about him.

  “Lass…” he drawled. “I dinna think that’s such a good idea.”

  “Why not?” She sat up a little straighter, pressing her palm into the mattress, clinging to it so she didn’t get up, race across the room, toss herself into his arms, and kiss him as though her life depended on it. “It helped last time, did it nae.”

  “Aye.” His voice had grown gruff.

  A piece of hair fell across her cheek, and she puffed a breath to get it off her skin. “Go and get your salve, Grim, and stop standing there brooding.”

  “Nay, and I’m nay brooding.” The muscles on his chest flexed as if he were bracing himself, or holding himself in place.

  “What would ye call it then?”

  “Practicing willpower.” The dark intensity of his expression did not change, but there was a light in his eyes, a hunger that seemed to have been revealed.

  Greer pursed her lips, digging her fingers harder into the mattress. “Practicing willpower? How?”

  “I’m no’ certain ye’re ready to hear it.” His eyelids were hooded now, his voice gruff, skating over her nerves like a sensual caress.

  “Try me.” Greer held her breath, feeling as though the air in the room crackled with whatever invisible tension was tugging them together.

  Roderick gazed at her, roving the length of her body once more, and with every inch, she felt as if she were being devoured. Her body heated, little pinpricks of excitement picking their way along her limbs. Nipples hardened. Breath hitched. Goodness… She could barely think beyond wanting him to come fully into the room and firmly shut the door behind him, locking out the world.

  “It’s taking every ounce of willpower I possess to stay right here. Because all I want to do is…”

  He stopped. She wanted to leap off the bed and demand he tell her exactly what he wanted. She let out the breath she’d been holding, and when she spoke, her voice came out a near croak. “What do ye want?”

  He broke his gaze, staring toward the window on the far wall and running his hands through his thick hair. She could tell he was trying to regain control, traction. “The same thing I’ve always wanted.”

  “What’s that?” She sat up and dangled her legs over the side of the bed, her bare toes brushing the floor.

  His gaze slowly rolled back to hers. “Ye.”

  Greer sucked in a breath. That one word, that simple admission, changed her whole world in that instant. He wanted her. And she wanted him.

  The truth of it weighed between them—a line drawn, and one of them needed to cross over. To do something about the fact that they both wanted each other.

  Had she not just been lying there thinking the same thing?

  Greer pressed her feet to the floor, let go of the mattress, and stood. She no longer felt the aches and pains of travel, or the exhaustion that had her collapsing a few moments before. She walked toward him with purpose. She wasn’t going to let him back away now.

  He watched her approach, his eyes dark with hunger, and she could see the war going on inside him. She could see he wasn’t certain whether he should leave or meet her halfway.

  It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to let him walk out of her door, not before she told—showed him—that she wanted him too. And not just for a kiss. But for much more than that.

  The closer she got, the straighter he stood, until he uncrossed his ankles, and his arms fell at his sides. When she was a foot away, he started to shake his head, but she ignored him, grabbed his hand, encircled her fingers around his and tugged him toward her. Roderick didn’t argue. He stepped closer, and the heat of his body enveloped her even though they weren’t yet close enough to touch. His heady scent intoxicated her, as did the powerful feeling her boldness gave her.

  “Shut the door,” she said.

  His eyes widened, lips turning down slightly. He wanted to tell her no. “Greer…”

  God, how she loved the sound of her name on his tongue. “Shut it, Grim.”

  He shook his head. “I shouldna.”

  “Ye should. If not, everyone will see us.”

  “See us what?” His voice was a low murmur now that had her pulse leaping.

  It was too late to stop now, and she didn’t want to. “See us doing this.” She reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck, and tugged him down for a deep, hot kiss.

  Her lashes fluttered down to her cheeks, and she put herself fully into that kiss. She tasted him, stroking her tongue over his just the way he’d showed her, the way she liked. The way that sent tingles racing all over her and made her squirm. It made sparks of pleasure and want race between her breasts and her core. It had her squirming where she stood, aching to be close to him. Flush to his body. Chest-to-chest, thigh-to-thigh, toe-to-toe.

  The door slowly clicked, and she grinned against his mouth at the knowledge that he’d followed her direction and shut it. Then she felt herself being lifted, her body indeed flush to his. She gasped against his kiss, delighting in that connection. Her breasts crushed to his chest, pebbled nipples brushing with stimulating pleasure. Roderick carried her in the direction of her bed, and she wasn’t going to stop him. She’d known the moment she pressed her feet to the floor and marched toward him that this was what she wanted—to have Roderick in her bed. To have his body pressing her down, claiming her for his own. To be his.

  They tumbled down upon the dusty, saggy mattress, the hemp bands creaking, and the wooden legs of the bed clunking against the floorboards. But neither one of them seemed to care about the noise. Only this moment. Themselves. Their mouths slanted again and again with frenzied, primal need, each of them intoxicated with the other and the pursuit of pleasure.

  “I want more than kissing,” Roderick whispered against her mouth, his hand sliding over her hip, massaging the round flesh there.

  Greer’s eyes blinked open and stared into his. “I want so much more.” Boldly, she lifted her leg and pressed her knee to the side of his body, wanting to feel more of him against her. She gasped at the way they fit, at the hardness of his arousal pressed to the sensitive parts of her. She rolled her hips and bit her lip at the frisson of pleasure that move sparked. What would it feel like without clothes?

  “More than…t
his.” His lips skimmed to her ear, tongue flicking out to tease the sensitive skin. “I want to marry ye.”

  Marry her… Greer had dreamed he’d whisper those words. Her entire body clenched with surprise and elation. “I love ye,” she said, surprising both herself and him when the words left her lips. She’d never allowed the words to be spoken in her own mind, and the admission was a shock and a relief all at once.

  “God, ye have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear ye say it.” His mouth crashed against hers, tongue sliding with urgent need between her lips. He kissed her until she could barely make sense of anything. “I love ye so much I’d let ye throw spears at me every day for the rest of our lives.”

  Greer laughed, and he chuckled, nipping at her bottom lip. “I can promise ye it will nae be every day.”

  “Marry me, mo ghràidh.”

  His love…

  Greer could have leapt off the bed and danced around the room, flung open the curtains, and shouted to the village and hills beyond. Instead, she smiled and squeezed his shoulders. “Aye, I’ll marry ye.”

  Roderick sucked in a breath, as though he’d feared she’d deny him, and then he let it out slowly. The heat in his gaze somehow doubled, and her body answered with a shiver. He bent low, kissing her long and hard, their bodies rocking together in a way that had her soaring higher and higher for something. The hardness of his arousal stroked with expert undulations against her middle. His hands cupped her breast, and his lips were on her mouth and her neck, his teeth tugging at the achy points of her breasts. Then she found whatever it was her body had been reaching for. She was shocked as rapture exploded, crushing her, and she cried out.

  Roderick let out a low groan, swallowing the rest of her cries in his kiss. What was happening? Was this love making? They’d not undressed. No parts of him had entered parts of hers. Their bodies had just rocked together and created a friction so intense, she was certain never to move from this spot ever again.

  With his forehead pressed to hers, and his breathing coming in heavy pants, he said, “We’d best save the rest of this for our wedding night.”

  Greer clung to him. “We’ve made our promises. I dinna want to wait. I canna spend another night not sleeping beside ye.”

  “Your da is downstairs. Your brother. A dozen Sutherland warriors. I’ll nae die before we wed, love, else what would be the point?” Even as he said it, his hand explored above her hip to her ribs, edging closer to her breasts once more.

  She arched her back, desiring to feel his heavy palm on her, wanting to shed her clothes and feel his skin on hers. She sought to fulfill the ache in her body that seemed to strain for his touch once more. That same shatter. Still, he hesitated with his thumb on the underside of her breast and left her nipple a hard, aching point.

  “I’ll no’ let them kill ye,” she promised.

  At last, he cupped her breast, dipped his face low, and nuzzled the hardened nipple. This time, he tugged away the fabric. The heat of his tongue seared her skin. Greer groaned, feeling that slice of pleasure all the way to her core. Who would have ever thought that doing business was so…incredible?

  “I want to make love to ye for days,” he murmured, skimming his teeth over the jutting point.

  “Weeks,” she murmured, running her fingers through his damp hair.

  He kissed her again, pressing his hips forward, rubbing the thickness of his arousal against her. Knowing what his touch could do to her, her body suddenly surged with desire all over again. Och, she needed to remove the fabric that strained between them, feel the length of his hard, naked body against hers. The pleasure that even the smallest glance from him promised.

  “I dinna want to wait,” he said, sliding a hand beneath her buttock to press her closer. “But we must.”

  “Nay,” she moaned as the closer contact sent a rush of thrill through her. “No one has to know.”

  “Everyone will know.”

  She remembered how they’d all seemed to know he’d kissed her before, so that notion seemed entirely possible.

  “They probably know I’ve got ye in bed right now.”

  “How?”

  “The walls are thin, lass. And my boot heels are heavy.”

  And then she recalled how the bed had creaked and bumped against the floor as they’d fallen onto it. She’d tried hard not to make noise, but gasps and moans had slipped from his kiss.

  As if to prove that point, a thunderous knock jolted both of their gazes toward the door.

  “Mo chreach,” Roderick groaned. “I didna lock it.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Roderick leapt off the bed, traversed the length of the room in two strides, and yanked open the door, completely blocking Magnus Sutherland’s view of his daughter.

  “Why is the door closed?” The older warrior’s eyes narrowed, his hand on the hilt of the sword at his hip.

  A prickle of apprehension skated up Roderick’s spine. Warning flashed in Sutherland’s gaze. Though he did not pull out his sword, the threat was evident enough. If Roderick didn’t give a good explanation, or get the hell out of the way, blood was going to be shed.

  Roderick didn’t want to lie to his future father-by-marriage, but he also didn’t want to tell him he’d been moments away from despoiling his daughter. Nay, admitting that much was sure to get his head sliced clean off his neck or at the least, get him castrated on the spot.

  “Da.” Greer’s cheerful voice sounded from behind, and then she was squeezing beside Roderick.

  He dared a glance down toward her, half expecting to see her hair and clothing rumpled. For her to look as thoroughly ravished as she had moments before when her lips parted on a cry of release. Good God, he could still hear her in his head, and his blood pumped to slam the door closed and keep going.

  She didn’t even glance up at him, thank the saints, else Sutherland would see every thought that passed through Roderick’s mind.

  “There was a draft, and since I was getting ready for bed, I told him to shut it. Nothing untoward, Da.” She gave a little laugh as though he’d be silly to think such.

  Magnus stared at the two of them, knowing eyes traversing back and forth before finally locking on Roderick’s. Despite Greer’s easy lie and the smoothing of her hair and garments, one glimpse of her lips was enough of an admission. She looked thoroughly kissed, her cheeks even still held a hint of pink flush. The woman was breathtaking, and damned arousing. Roderick swallowed, glanced back toward Magnus, and prepared to take his punishment like a man.

  Sutherland cleared his throat, fingers still dancing on the hilt of his sword. “I’ve been in this situation afore, but then I arrived minutes later than this and found my sister being debauched by her lover. I’ve nae doubt had I arrived less than a quarter hour later, ye’d be in the same position.”

  Roderick’s mouth went dry. The man was not wrong.

  “Da!” Greer breathed out, color coming to her face. Roderick stiffened beside her. “I’ve never heard this afore. Was it Aunt Lorna? Aunt Heather married her captor—”

  “Ye dinna deny it.” Magnus cut off her inquiry, yet he still kept his steady gaze on Roderick. Because Roderick was certain it was nay Greer he was speaking to. Sutherland was letting him know that he’d had practice dealing with despoilers of virgins in the past. “This isna the first time ye’ve been untoward with my daughter, is it? Only a confident man would do so right beneath my nose.”

  To this, Roderick had no problem speaking the truth. “Your daughter is as much a maid as she was when I found her on my beach.”

  Magnus’s brow furrowed. “But she wouldna be by morning.”

  “I wish to make her my wife,” Roderick said in answer to that.

  “Then ’tis a good thing I called for a priest.” With that, Magnus turned on his heel and started for the stairs.

  Roderick stared after him. If the man knew what was happening above stairs, why had he taken the time to call for a priest before coming up? Had that been his
plan all along? Is that why he’d sent Roderick to protect his daughter upstairs, when they both knew good and well nothing would happen now that Ina had been caught and the men on watch had tripled? The tricky bastard.

  Greer shoved past Roderick and rushed toward her father. “Wait, Da.”

  Magnus stopped then, gazing down at his daughter with great affection. He cupped her cheek and gave it a slight tap. “Ye have my blessing. I could tell by the way the two of ye’ve been acting that this was not far off. But your mother would never forgive me if I let what was about to happen continue without the bonds of marriage being put in place.”

  Sutherland’s words confirmed what Roderick had guessed, but that didn’t mean it would be as simple as that. The older laird was going to need to save face, and to prove a point. No one could despoil one of his daughters and get away with it. Especially not be given the gift of her virtue and her hand in marriage.

  “We were no’…” A pretty shade of pink, even in the dimly lit hall, covered Greer’s cheeks.

  “I dinna need to know more, sweet child. Prepare yourself to be wed.” He nodded his head toward Roderick. “Ye can join me downstairs, lad.”

  “Nay, Da. Not like this.” Greer tugged her father’s sleeve. “Mama will want to be there. Let us wait until the feast. I beg ye.”

  Sutherland’s lips pressed firmly together, his nostrils flaring with slight irritation, but Greer persisted, her eyes pleading.

  “Ye truly wish to wait? This is nae a ruse to get out of it.”

  “Nay, nae a ruse, Da.” She glanced back at Roderick. “I love him.”

  “Och, ye sound like Lorna.” Magnus visibly gritted his teeth, sliding Roderick a fierce glower. “And ye can keep your hands off my daughter until then?” Magnus’s gaze promised murder if his answer were anything other than the affirmative.

  Roderick gave a curt nod.

  Greer beamed at them both, threw herself into her father’s arms, and kissed him on the cheek, thanking him. Fascinatingly, she did not seem at all embarrassed at having been caught with her skirts nearly up. And even more interesting was that Roderick was still breathing. Then again, it seemed like Magnus had guessed that there was something brewing between the two of them.