Chapter 6
Early the next morning, Lachlan strode purposefully across the courtyard toward the small garden on the south side of the barmkin. The promise of spring hung in the salty sea air, a natural foil for his wintry mood. He was vaguely aware of the bright sun and cloudless sky, but not even the promise of an unusually warm day could douse the fires of his discontent. He needed to find Seonaid before beginning his training. What he had to do couldnt wait.
Hed spent a restless night. But not solely for the reason hed anticipatedthough it was asinine how his body could ache for a lass who so infuriated him.
He knew better than anyone the toll the feuding had taken on his clan. He didnt need it pointed out by a nave chit whod never gone hungry a day in her life. Yes, pride and the honor of his clan were at stake in his battle with Hector, but so was the very preservation of his clan. If Lachlan accepted Hector as his chief, Hector would drive them into the ground with his feud with the MacDonalds. Lachlan would be duty bound to send his men to fight for Hector. Hector could call on them at will. And he was unrelenting. Hed been feuding with the MacDonalds for years.
Lachlan was protecting his clan the only way he could. He wanted the fighting with Hector done more than anyone.
Yet Flora dared to question him. In fact, it seemed never to occur to her to temper her tongue. Shed been encouraged to speak her minda rarity in the Highlands for a woman. Not many people dared to challenge him openly. But Flora did.
He found it maddening, but also oddly refreshing.
Her faith in the king, however, was laughable.
A few months ago, angry over the resumption of feuding between the two clans, King James had attempted to bring Lachlan and Hector to heel by ordering them to appear before the Privy Council under promise of safe conduct to Edinburgh. Not trusting Hector to abide by the kings directive, Lachlan sent his brother, John, in his stead, so that he could stay and defend Breacachadh from attack.
Hed expected treachery from Hector and found it with the king. Instead of hearing the merits of the dispute, King James had summarily tossed John into prisontrying to force Lachlan to end the fighting and cede to the jurisdiction of the Privy Council. Lachlan went to Argyll to help seek his brothers release from Blackness Prison, and it was cold comfort to know that hed been right to fear an invasion when Hector had immediately taken the opportunity to capture Breacachadh.
Hector was a harsh and brutal leaderLachlan could only imagine the suffering of his clan under Hectors dominion. And with both his clan and brother suffering, there was no time to lose.
He would take his men and storm Blackness himselfwere it not for his sisters and his people. He couldnt risk it. Not if there was another way. Flora was that way. He would not shirk from doing what was necessary to convince her to marry him, even if it meant deceiving her. A prospect that had seemed a whole hell of a lot simpler when hed thought she was a spoiled girl. But there was nothing simple about Flora MacLeod. Or the riotous feelings she roused in him.
She would never agree to marry him if she learned the truth. The whole truth of the devils bargain hed struck with her cousin Argyll to ensure his brothers release from prison. And it disturbed him to realize how much that prospect bothered him.
Lust had obviously addled him. Flora would help secure Johns release, and Hector would pay for all hed donethat was all that mattered.
Seonaid was right where Morag said she would be, collecting herbs from the garden. She had some skill with herbs and served as the clans healer. That the sight of her softly rounded bottom perched in the air didnt give him a flicker of hesitation proved that he was doing the right thing.
She heard him approach and stood up slowly to greet him with a wide smile. My laird. What a pleasant surprise. She sauntered toward him, her hips swaying in the sensual way that had originally caught his eye. She stood right in front of him, her soft, plump breasts poking his chest, and glanced up at him coyly. Is there something you need?
Yes, but unfortunately not from her. He wasnt even tempted. But it wasnt Seonaids fault. Not today, lass.
She gazed at him hopefully. Tonight, then, perhaps?
He shook his head. Im afraid not.
Oh, she said softly. I see.
He could tell from the crushed look on her face that she did. He hadnt intended to hurt her, but hed been honest from the start. I thought you understood.
She tried to smile, but he could see the tears shining in her eyes. I did. I just hoped She looked down. A lock of hair slid across her face, and he reached down to tuck it behind her ear. But she read more into the gesture than hed intended. He could see her hope swell before she turned her blame from him to Flora. Its her, isnt it? Her voice grew angry. She was watching me last night. She told you to be rid of me.
Lachlan frowned, not liking the venom he saw on Seonaids faceor the inference that he would be dictated to by a lass. The decision was mine.
She reached up, sliding her arms behind his neck, pressing her soft and very willing body against his. Shell never satisfy you. A woman like that. Youll terrify her. She trailed her hand down his stomach and wrapped her fingers around him intimately. I know what you like. She breathed against his ear. How you like me to take you deep in my mouth.
One long pull of that talented mouth, and Lachlan could release some of this restless energy. But it wasnt Seonaids mouth that he pictured. His body stirred at the image of Floras red lips stretched taut around the heavy head of his cock, milking him.
Seonaid misunderstood, and a satisfied gleam appeared in her eyes. Do you think your fancy court lady will do that for you?
Her words bothered him more than they should have. The differences between Flora and him had not gone unnoticed. But Seonaid had overstepped her bounds.
Lachlan removed her hand and stepped away from her. It isnt your concern.
I thought we had something more.
He didnt want to be cruel, but he didnt want there to be any doubt. What we had was sex. From the start I made that very clear. You were my leman.
And she will be your wife.
Lachlans eyes narrowed. Only his guardsmen, Morag, and his sisters were aware of the true purpose for Floras presence in Drimnin. Hed thought it best to keep the matter of Johns imprisonment quiet; there would be fewer questions to answer and less likelihood she would discover her cousins involvement. Was Seonaid merely speculating, or had someone spoken out of turn? Hed have to make damn sure that none of the talk reached Floras ears.
You forget yourself, Seonaid. Whether I take a wife is no concern of yours. She flinched at his blunt words. He knew the lass spoke out of jealousy, but he would not tolerate disrespect. Nor did he like the calculation he saw in her gaze. Im sorry if Ive caused you any pain, lass. But I warn you. Do not interfere.
I need you, my sweet. Make no mistake of that.
Echoes of last nights conversation still sounded in her head, even as Flora sat down to break her fast. Why did he need her if the king was involved? Without a legal claim to Breacachadh Castle, surely Hector would be ordered to return Colls castle. It didnt make any sense. Was there another reason? But when shed asked him, hed brushed aside her questions.
Flora had learned something of the dark, enigmatic Laird of Coll, but a great deal remained unexplained. And she was surprised by how much the prospect intrigued her. He intrigued her.
But right now, she had other concerns. She washed down the last bit of dry bread with a spoonful of barley gruel, anxious to go in search of Mary, who had not come downstairs to break her fast. Gilly had assured her that Mary was simply tired, but Flora had a horrible feeling that it might have something to do with polishing the swords yesterday. The laird had been furious. Had he blamed his sister?
Flora should not have involved Mary in her plans; the sweet girl simply didnt have the temperament for mischief makingor, more specifically, for the repercussions of mischief making. It wasnt just that she was quiet, which she was, but Mary took things too much to heart. Flora should have realized how it would pain her to disappoint her brother.
Excusing herself, she stood up from the table to go in search of her when she happened to glance out one of the windows.
Her heart stalled, and a startled gasp escaped from between her lips. The flash of hurt was swift and hard, like a mule kick in the chest. She wanted to turn away, but her eyes were glued to the scene taking place below.
Lachlan Maclean stood at the southern edge of the courtyard in what appeared to be a small garden, locked in an embrace with the woman shed noticed staring at him last night. The woman had her arms around his neck and her body plastered against his broad chest. Floras gaze slid down. Her stomach turned. If she wasnt mistaken, the woman had her hand around his
The laird quickly removed himself from the womans grasp, but it didnt stop the squeezing in Floras chest. She might be a virgin, but she knew enough to recognize that this woman had enough familiarity with his body to suggest an intimate relationship.
She tore her gaze from the window and turned back to Gilly, who was still seated at the table, finishing her meal. Gilly, who was that dark-haired woman staring at your brother last night? Though she tried to make it sound like an afterthought, the hollowness in her chest extended to her voice.
Gillys eating knife slipped from her fingers and clattered on the table. What woman?
Her reaction proved that she knew very well what woman. It was not as if there were more than a dozen to choose from. The castle was not a large one, and most of the women and children of Colls warriors were trapped at Breacachadh. The pretty one with black hair. Is she the lairds intended?
Gilly looked like a hare caught in a trap. Eyes wide, she shook her head furiously. My brother is not presently engaged.
Floras heart pounded. There was another possibility, one that was a common enough practice in the Highlands. Such arrangements were quite open. His leman, then?
Gilly looked down at her plate, her cheeks bright pink, giving Flora all the answer she needed.
It shouldnt surprise her. Many Highlanders had lemans, and Lachlan Maclean was a strong, virile man. His raw sensuality was one of the first things shed noticed about him. What she didnt expect was how it made her feel. Hurt. DisappointedShe bit her lip. Maybe even jealous.
Ridiculous.
Flora, its not
She held up her hand. You dont need to say anything, Gilly. Drawing up her shoulders, she ignored the unaccountable burning in her throat. I shouldnt have asked. Its none of my business.
But it didnt make the disappointment any easier to swallow.
She hurried for the doorway, her steps falling into almost a run. Im going to check on Mary, she called over her shoulder, not wanting Gilly to see her face.
Once safe in the darkness of the stairwell, Flora took refuge in the solitude. She rested her back against the cool stones, closed her eyes, and took deep, even breaths. Her pulse raced, her chest ached, and her eyes prickled with heat. If she didnt know better, shed think she was close to bursting into tears.
She was being a fool. Lachlan Maclean was nothing to her. He was her captor. Her brothers enemy.
But shed thought
What had she thought?
That he wanted me.
Hed kissed her with such tenderness, touched her body as no man ever had before, and charmed her with his brusque honesty and lack of false flattery. And, she was forced to admit, it had been effective. Somehow, hed managed to sneak beneath her defenses.
She must be mad. He was everything her mother had warned her against.
Or was he?
The fierce beating of her heart returned to normal. She was overreacting. Flora had no claim on him. She was only an unwilling guest, nothing more.
Putting the Laird of Coll out of her mind, she pulled herself together and started up the stairs in search of Mary.
On the second floor, she came to the door of the chamber that Mary shared with Gilly and knocked. She could barely make out the soft voice that answered. The door creaked as she opened it, but Mary didnt turn. She sat in a small chair, her gaze fixed out the window. The food that had been sent up sat uneaten on a small table beside her. Her pale cheeks were streaked white with the salty remnants of her tears.
Mary looked impossibly forlorn. There was something so hopeless in her gaze, it touched a part of Flora still tender from her mothers death. She knew such sadness. Knew what it was like to feel lost. Had she been the cause of this poor girls grief?
She moved across the room and knelt beside her.
Mary, Flora said gently, not wanting to startle her. What is it, child? What is wrong?
Mary flinched. She turned, her eyes red and stark. Im not a child.
Realizing that shed unwittingly hit on a tender subject, Flora hastened to correct the error. Of course youre not. Forgive me. But what has happened to make you so sad? Is it your brother?
Mary nodded, and Flora felt a sharp stab of guilt. It was her fault. Im sorry, I never should have involved you. Everything will be fine, youll see. Ill tell him it was all my fault.
Mary looked at her, obviously confused. What are you talking about?
Why, the swords, of course. Flora blushed. I assume your brother was angry with you for my wee jest with the fulmar oil. But, truly, I do not think he is mad any longer.
Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks. Mary shook her head. I wish it were the swords She sank her face into her hands. If only it were the swords.
Flora was at a loss to see Mary like this. She didnt know what to do, having had little practical experience with sisters. She hesitated only a moment before gathering the poor weeping girl in her arms. Stroking her silky head, Flora whispered soothing words until her shoulders no longer shook and the tears had at last run dry.
When Mary had calmed down enough to speak, Flora said, Tell me what he has said to make you so upset.
She watched as Mary struggled with the words, trying not to dissolve into tears again. Its Allan.
Flora cursed, realizing at once what had happened. Apparently, she hadnt been the only one to notice Marys tender feelings for her brothers captain. Let me guess. Your brother has discouraged your feelings for his captain.
Marys face crumpled. Its worse than that. Hes forbidden Allan from speaking with me in private. Making it clear that he would not permit a match between us.
But why? Allan is the captain of his castle, one of his guardsmen, and a chieftain in his own right.
Mary lowered her gaze. My brother has other plans for me.
Bigger plans. Flora wondered what he intended. A match between Mary and Allan, although not a good one, was not a bad one, either. From the look of this place, shed wager that the girl didnt have much of a tocher. Well, surely he will take your feelings into account. Perhaps he can be persuaded to change his mind?
Mary shook her head. You dont know my brother. Hes determined. Once hes made a decision, nothing could turn him from his course. Hes been like that since he was a lad. Hell never change his mind.
Flora could barely contain the sudden eruption of anger. This was precisely the situation shed fought against her whole life. Are you saying he would force you into a marriage you do not want? She didnt want to believe that the man shed unwittingly grown to admire could be so callous.
Hes a Highlander.
Its not like that. Hes only doing what he thinks is best for the clan. He wouldnt need to force me. I could not refuse him my duty. I just wish Her voice hitched, and a solitary tear slid down her cheek. I just wish circumstances could be different.
Flora couldnt believe Mary would defend him. Of course, this sweet, good-natured child would do his bidding. Her duty, as she called it. Mary would never think to defy her brother. But Flora would. In a heartbeat. Shed seen the alternative. Doing your duty for a woman all too often meant a future of suffering and sadness. If Mary had a chance at happiness, she needed to take it.
Could your brother John help?
With her arm still slung around Marys shoulder, Flora could feel her stiffen. No. She gazed at Flora with something akin to guilt in her eyes. Youve been so kind.
Its not your fault your brother abducted me.
Dont blame him too harshly. Lachlan had no choice.
Floras expression hardened. There is always a choice. She took Marys hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze. Do not despair, Mary. I will speak to him. Im sure I can knock some sense into him.
Her words were prophetic, but not in the manner she intended. Instead, it was she who was knocked senseless.
After making sure that Mary had eaten some food, Flora set about fulfilling her promise. She knew from the time of day that the laird would be seeing to his mens battle skills on the practice yard. Shed seen the swirl of dust and heard the clatter of swords often enough in the past week but had purposely stayed clear of the half-naked men wielding their weapons of deathperhaps subconsciously trying to avoid a visual affirmation of her mothers warnings.
Theyre primitive, brutal men who are happy only when they are at war.
But as she left the shadow of the castle behind her and approached the raucous sounds of swordplay, the sight that met her eyes shook her to the core.
My God, he was magnificent, blazing in the sun like a tawny lion.
She might have made a mistake in avoiding the practice yard. The laird wasnt just supervising his warriors, his skills were on display today. But skills werent all that was on display.
She let out the breath she didnt realize shed been holding. With only a pair of leather trews that stretched over his powerful thighs, the smooth, tanned skin of his bare chest gleamed like polished granite in the sunlight. Every inch of his powerful torso had been chipped from stone, the heavy slabs of muscle cut and built by years of battle. His shoulders were broad, his arms thick, and his waist narrow. Tight bands of well-defined muscle layered across his flat stomach. A smattering of small scars had left their warriors mark, but it was the one long slash across his side that drew her gaze. The one that had yet to heal. She felt a stab of regret. Her mark.
But the scars did not detract from his rugged perfection. Not an ounce of spare flesh padded his form; he was rippled and strong and impossibly masculine, every inch a powerful Highland warrior. She wanted to touch him, to run her hands over his hot skin. The urge was so strong, it frightened her. Her mother had been wrong. There was some appeal to the Highlanders warrior way of life. Now that she had seen a man such as this, a man of such physicality, of such raw power, how could a delicate courtier possibly compare?
They couldnt. Lachlan Maclean was a man built for protection. And there was something almost intoxicating about watching him demonstrate his skills and strength.
Her senses flared. She couldnt tear her eyes away, though she knew she was treading dangerously. No longer could she deny it, even to herself. She wanted him. And seeing him like this would only make him that much harder to resist. What would it be like to be held in his strong arms, cradled against that muscular chest and kissed passionately? Would she dissolve in heat again? Would she ever want to leave the shelter of that protective embrace?
He raised his arms, holding the two-handed claymore high above his head, wielding it with an ease and grace that belied its weight. Only when he met the powerful blows of his opponent did the long cords of muscles flex and ripple with exertion.
At first, she was mesmerized by the sheer power of the display before her. There was a beauty to the thrust and swing of each powerful stroke. Beauty in the way he moved to evade and then attack.
Then she realized something strange was going on. There was an intensity to his movements, a ferocity to his strokes, that seemed odd. It seemedreal.
About a score of his warriors had gathered around. She looked at their faces, so transfixed that no one had yet to become aware of her presence. It was more quiet than usualbarely a sound above the heavy clashing of the swords and the exertions of the two men exchanging blow after powerful blow. The ground seemed to shake with the force of each stroke. There was a subtle undercurrent that permeated the air, thick with tension and the sultry scent of sea tinged with sweat.
For the first time, she glanced at the lairds opponent. Physically, they were well matched. The other man was perhaps an inch or two taller than Coll and also heavily muscled, albeit bulkier. His movements were a bit more ponderous. She paused. There was only one man with that build and white blond hair. Odin. Marys captain.
A chill of unease slid down her spine as understanding dawned. This was a battle.
Allan swung the mighty steel blade in a deadly arc, bringing it down with such force that Flora gasped and took a step forward as if she could protect him. She need not have worried. The laird blocked the fierce blow with barely a grimace. But hed heard her. She felt the swift jolt when his eyes bored into her with piercing intensity. Marking her. A look that made it clear he didnt want her here; that she was intruding. But how could she leave? She was rooted to the fierce drama unfolding before her.
Back and forth they went, exchanging blow after blow until Flora didnt think she could take it anymore. Anxiety twisted in her stomach. She wanted them to stop. But it was clear they were almost evenly matched. This could go on forever. Or until they both collapsed from exhaustion.
Allan seemed to find a burst of strength. Her breath caught when he attacked with renewed vigor, driving the laird back until he neared the barmkin wall. She covered her mouth with her hand, muffling the cry that slipped out. She feared he was still weak from the stabbing.
Her heart pounded. Dear God, he was going to be hurt. Allan had homed in for the kill. He swung the blade down again with deadly force, and the laird managed to block it with his sword high over his head. But Allan had leverage. He used his formidable size to lower the sword, blade to blade, in a silvery cross, until it inched ever closer to the lairds head.
Yield, damn you, Allan urged through clenched teeth.
Colls reply was too low for her to hear. But from Allans enraged expression, she could tell it hadnt been pleasant.
The laird was straining under the weight. The muscles of his arms bulged and shook as he fought to prevent the blade from crashing down on him. She had to do something.
She made a move toward them. But in one smooth motion, the laird dropped to the side, laced his foot around Allans ankle, and brought the bigger man down to his knees. Before Flora could blink, Coll had his sword poised at Allans neck. She halted midstep, stunned by the quick turn of events.
Yield, he said raggedly. And in a voice she could just make out: Shes not for you.
Allan wasnt going to surrender. She could see it in his eyes. Not defiance, but resolve. He would never outright challenge his chief in his decision, but neither would he yield. Not in this. Not for the woman he loved. Without thinking, Flora rushed forward, putting herself between the two men. The anger surging between them was palpable. Neither would look away as their eyes engaged in an interminable battle of wills.
She reached up, gently placing her palm on the lairds naked chest. It shocked them both. His skin was hot to the touch, and her senses reeled from the heady masculine force of him. She was immediately conscious of the raw power surging under her fingertips, radiating from him like an invisible shield. She must be mad. What in the world was she doing? She felt as though shed just placed herself in the mouth of a lion. How could she expect to harness such strength?
He hadnt moved the sword from Allans neck, but his gaze had locked on hers.
He swore. What the hell do you think you are doing?
Please, my laird. Her voice trembled. I need to speak with you.
Not now, Flora, he growled.
She leaned her body closer to his and moved her hand in a light, soothing caress over his hot chest. Please, she begged. And under her breath she added, Dont do this. Its gone too far already.
She looked deep into his eyes, and something passed between them. Something that made her heart flutter hard in her chest. Something intense andsignificant.
Slowly, he lowered his sword.
The hot rage of battle that had welled inside him eased back, dampened by Flora.
His men dispersed, fading away quietly as Lachlan stood in the hot sun, staring at the fey creature before him, not quite sure what had just happened. Hell, he knew what had happened. After their conversation about Mary, he and Allan had taken their anger to the battlefield. Lachlan didnt want to think what might have occurred had Flora not stepped in and defused the situation.
Allan had shot him a quick glance before he left. His captain had looked equally taken aback by what had transpired. By how quickly their practice had turned into something altogether different. Damn. This thing with Mary had gotten out of control. How could he not have realized what was happening? Allan might be his friend, but Lachlan was chief, and he had to make his decisions as suchfor the good of the clan. Even if those decisions went against his personal feelings.
He glanced down at her tiny hand, still resting on his chest. He couldnt describe what he felt the moment she had touched him. It was as if her hand had plunged through ice, reaching a part of him he hadnt even known existed. Shed drawn him back into the light from a dark place. All with a simple touch.
Seeing the direction of his gaze, she dropped her hand self-consciously. He felt the loss acutely, the severing of a connection the significance of which he was only beginning to comprehend. This woman did something strange to him.
He bent down, picking up the shirt and plaid that hed tossed over a rock, feeling suddenly exposed. Though he knew it wasnt his state of undress that bothered him. He folded the clothing over his arm and held out his hand. Come.
She looked at him uncertainly. Where are we going?
To the water. Then you can tell me what you wished to speak to me about.
Steeling himself for rejection, he was surprised when she wordlessly slid her hand into his. He ignored the sudden hitch in his chest and led her down the rocky pathway to the waters edge. Rather than step on the white sandy beach, she pulled back with almost an aversion that he found odd and found a low rock to sit on.
Once again he relinquished his shirt and plaid to a rock, then pulled off his boots and dove into the waves of the sound, allowing the cool water to wash over him and rinse away the sweat and grime of the fight. His muscles burned, and he could have used a long, cold soak, but he was acutely aware that she was waiting. Reinvigorated nonetheless, he stepped up the rocky bank, feeling her big blue eyes on him the whole time, traveling over his chest and arms, unable to hide her interest. His body hardened. He wanted more than her eyes on him. Her handsfor starters. And then that naughty red mouth. She could drive a man wild with erotic images of those softly curved lips.
The heat of battle had left him and been replaced by a different heat. A raw one. For her. Even sitting there in that simple gown, she looked beautiful. Soft and sweetly feminine. Her hair tumbled in loose waves around her shoulders like a silky golden veil. Her pale cheeks flushed with a hint of pink from the heat of the sun. But it was the taunt of his vivid memories that drove him to distraction. Memories of lush breasts with tight nipples, curvy hips, a round bottom, and long, lean legs.
Completely unaware of the direction of his thoughts, she pointed behind him across the sound. Is that the Isle of Mull?
He nodded, reluctantly pulling on his shirt. The northern edge.
And Coll?
It lies just beyond Mull to the west.
She thought for a minute. So Hector is close?
Yes. He could hear the unspoken question. Then what was taking Hector so long? Wringing the remaining water from his hair with a squeeze of his fingers, he changed the subject. What is it that you wanted?
Hands twisting, she gazed up at him with wide, uncertain eyes. Eyes that were the same startling blue tinged with green as the sea hed just sunk into. Mesmerizing eyes. Her long dark lashes shone iridescent in the sun like the edge of a ravens wing. She took his breath away.
Mary is unwell, she said.
His head cleared immediately. Whats wrong with her?
She raised her chin to him defiantly. Her heart is broken.
He stiffened, the tension returning to the back of his neck and shoulders. It will mend. He hadnt intended to sound so harsh, but damn her for interfering. His sisters were none of her concern.
You cant mean that.
She sounded so certain. He didnt know what she thought she knew about him, but she was wrong. I assure you, I always mean what I say.
Then you dont know what you are doing.
I know exactly what Im doing. Marys marriage was important to the survival of his clan. Hed already had discussions with Ian MacDonald, son of the Chief of Glengarry and brother to Rory MacLeods wife, Isabel. Ian was a good man. His sister would be well cared for, with liferents in some important property in Morvern. And his clan would have another important ally in the feud against Hector.
Her mouth pursed with annoyance, a sentiment he well understood. You have nothing more to say? she asked indignantly.
Im not accustomed to explaining myself. He gave her a long, hard look. To anyone.
She disregarded the warning. But surely you can see that she loves him.
Love. Love wasnt part of the marriage equation. It was the same for Mary as it would be for him. That was the way of it. She thinks she loves him, he said. But Mary is young. With the romantic notions of a girl.
He started to turn away, indicating that he was finished with the conversation, but she grabbed his arm. Her tiny fingers pressed into the thin linen of his damp shirt. The soft, imploring touch sent waves of heat rippling through him. She was ardent in her beliefs, and he wrestled with the strange urge to please her, though in this, he knew he could not.
I think you are wrong, she said flatly. Mary truly cares for him. You must have seen how she looks at him. He had, which was why hed put a stop to it. Talk to her. Not as a chief, but as her brother.
She was talking nonsense. Im both. But it is the chief who must make the decision for the clan.
But she needs a brother. I know you care for your sisters, but you act more like their father than their brother. A wry smile twisted her lips. Its something Im familiar with. Take the time now to get to know them, before you come to regret it.
She was wrong. He was very close to his sisters. Not as close as they once were, perhaps, but not by his choice. Ive nothing to regret.
Not yet. Dont force her into an unhappy marriage, she implored, her eyes soft and pleading. Ive seen what it can do.
My sister isnt your mother, Flora.
Are you so sure? My mother was once a biddable girl who did her duty, and look what it got herfour husbands with varying degrees of cruelty and a lifetime of unhappiness. He could hear the bitterness and pain in her voice. Dropping her hand, she looked away from him, as if trying to hide the tumult of emotion. But it didnt work. He could see the toll her mothers death had taken in the stiff carriage of her shoulders. Here, on the windswept beach, with the harsh sea crashing behind her and the tower keep standing guard like a lone sentinel across a desolate land, she looked unbearably alone. Her refined beauty was a stark contrast to the rugged landscape of the Highlands. A delicate white rose among the hearty Highland heather. A sharp pang pricked his chest. She didnt belong here.
Would this harsh life destroy her, too? No, he tried to convince himself. Flora was strong.
What was she like? he asked quietly.
Flora reached down to pick up a flat stone and tossed it across the water, just as the wave pulled back flat from the shore. She managed two skips before it sank sharply into the retreating water. It was something his sisters might do. And hinted of a carefree girl not unaccustomed to the sea. A remnant of her past from Dunvegan, perhaps?
Sweet, she said finally. Gentle. Loving. But always shadowed by sadness. She paused to look at him. She was all I had. The look of misery on her face hit him hard. She glanced back to the water. When I was young, I used to spend hours devising ways of making her laugh. Little plays, dances, funny costumes. Anything to make her smile. A wistful look transcended her face. Her skin was flawless. Not a single freckle to mar the ivory perfection. He remembered how soft it was under his fingertips.
Unaware of his scrutiny, she continued. I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world when she smiled. And when she laughed, I would hear echoes of the happy girl shed been before she was locked away. My mother was like a caged bird whod forgotten how to sing. She was beautiful and delicate, a gentle creature who was tossed into a world that was utterly foreign to her.
You mean the Highlands?
Flora nodded. Yes, but it was more than that. Her husbands were much older and harsh, forbidding men constantly waging war, who didnt know what to do with a young girl accustomed to gentler pursuits. Her father and brothers should have known better. But she trusted blindly. Trusted that doing her duty was the right thing. But it wasnt. Not for her. She was never allowed to make decisions for herself. She resented her every move being controlled, and resented the domineering men she was married to. Eventually they broke her.
He could understand why Janet Campbell had wanted a different life for her daughter. But not all men were like her husbands.
I know something of the men she was married to. The stories of Hectors father were legendary. He was a revered chief, but unquestionably a brutal one. Much like his son.
You probably know more than I do, she said wryly. My father was her last husband, and I dont remember him muchexcept that he seemed ancient and remote. My mother never talked in specifics about the men she was married to, but they left a lasting impression on me. I saw what they did to her. So you see what a forced marriage can bring? Do you really want your sister consigned to such a fate?
Of course not. Nor do I think she will be. Not all arranged marriages end up the way of your mothers. My parents were happy enough. And unlike your mother, my sister was raised in the Highlands, this is her home. Besides, the man I have chosen for her is a good man. But I will not force her. If she does not wish to marry him, there are others.
But she loves Allan. Her expression turned fierce. If I loved a man, nothing could force me to marry someone else.
Her words chilled him to the bone. The thought of her so passionate about another man made his insides twist. Even though he knew there was nothing to worry about. Nothing would stand in the way of their marriage.
He met her gaze. Ive made my decision.
And your decisions are always right?
They are the only ones that matter, he snapped, not liking the scorn he heard in her voice. That was what he did. As chief, he made decisions that had broad ramifications for hundreds of people. He had to be decisive and confident. A leader. A man whom men would willingly die for. He damn well better trust himself to be right.
And Flora would have to learn that as well. She seemed to have no understanding of duty and responsibilityor of how difficult it could be to make the hard decisions. Her impulsive decision to take her marriage into her own hands and elope was proof enough of that.
She took a step closer to him. The wind whipped through her hair, sending silky tendrils streaming in wild abandon across her face. Is there nothing that will change your mind? she asked.
The world shifted. Day suddenly turned to night. Her innocent plea played tricks on his mind, on the desires of his body, taunting his tightly wrought control. Lust fired his blood. The subtle floral scent of her rose up to trap him in its hypnotic embrace. He couldnt move. Every instinct clamored to gather her in his arms and take what she offered. It was there between them, crackling with erotic promise.
He knew how good it would be.
God, he was tempted. He wanted to kiss her so badly, it hurt. His fists clenched at his sides as her lips parted. Soft and achingly sweet. Beckoning. Only inches away. His body drummed with need. The urge was so strong, he could almost taste her.
He knew what she was doing, even if she didnt. Unconsciously using her feminine wiles on him. Shed already proved how much she could affect him, by putting herself between him and Allan earlier. But she was doomed to failure. He would never allow a woman to control his actions. It was a lesson she needed to learn.
The air was thick with tension. He leaned closer, towering over her, letting her feel his heat. What are you offering?
The color slid from her cheeks, and she tried to back away. But she stumbled on the uneven rocks, and he reached out to catch her, wrapping her in a fierce embrace. He felt the furious flutter of her heart against his, like a bird caught in a trap. His trap.
You m-misunderstand, she stammered.
He traced his fingers down her throat and over the frantic pulse. Do I? He held her gaze. I dont think so.
Hed waited long enough. Whatever control he had over his passion had been undone by the exquisite feel of holding her in his arms. His hand snaked behind her neck, and he plunged his fingers through the silky waves of her hair, warmed from the sun, bringing her mouth hard against his with a deep guttural groan. The relief was overwhelming. Her scent. Her taste. The sensation of her soft lips under his. The tightness inside him burst in a slow gush of heat that spread through his veins, and his cock swelled hot and hard against her. Hed been waiting for this for too long.
This time, he did not hold back. It was no gentle wooing, but an explosion of passion. His mouth moved over hers with swift possession as he kissed her with all of the raw hunger raging inside him. He pulled her closer, his fingers caressing the baby soft skin of her neck as he urged her jaw open with his thumb.
And she melted against him. Opening her mouth. Taking him in. Making sweet little sounds of pleasure that drove him wild.
He sank into her, kissing her harder, trying to quench the impossible lust that would not be sated. His tongue delved deep into her mouth, stroking, tasting, devouring, until her tongue entwined with his and she returned his stroke with a parry of her own. It was hot and wet and wickedly carnal. And a little bit rough. Just the way he liked it.
God, it felt good. So damn good. Hed known how it would be between them, but never could he have imagined the powerful feelings surging through himunfamiliar feelings of possession, tenderness, and longing.
He couldnt get enough. His lips trailed over her mouth, her jaw, her neck, tasting every inch of her fevered skin.
She sagged against him in sweet surrender. Her hands were on his shoulders, his arms, his back. Feeling him. Clutching him. He felt her passion rise up to meet him, returning his passion with a fervor of her own.
Her kisses were sweet and innocent and utterly potent, but he wanted more. His tongue was in her mouth, deep in her mouth, and his hand was on her breast, squeezing her gently in his palm as he thrust with his tongue. Her breasts were magnificent; he cursed the fabric and stays, wishing he could feel the soft, full weight of all that naked flesh in his hands. His thumb caressed the hard peak of her nipple, and she moaned, arching against his hand.
It was too much. It wasnt enough. Her soft whimpers of pleasure sent a bolt of lust straight to his groin. He slid his hand down to her bottom, lifting her against him. His erection was rock hard and throbbing as their bodies came together. She rubbed against him, and his knees almost buckled.
He wanted to open her up and fill her. To make her tremble. To make her come as she cried out his name. To make her his. He wanted it more than anything hed ever wanted in his life.
So much so that it shook him. This clawing need for her.
When she melted against him, touched him, kissed him, she could make him do almost anything. She could bring him to his knees with one kiss.
Hell. He wrenched away with a growl, his body pounding as he fought for control. Never had he felt more threatened, by anyone. What do you want from me? he said hoarsely, wanting to take back the words as soon as they were uttered.
I, she gasped, her face stricken as he watched her grapple with what had just happened. Of how theyd come together in a hot burst of flames. And of how easily shed succumbed. Her eyes rounded. I dont know.
There it was. The crack that hed been waiting for. He should be happy. She wanted him. Hed won. But it didnt feel like a victory. He felt like the one whod lost.
She spun around and started to climb up the hill toward the keep, but not before he saw the look on her face. The truth horrified her. As it did him. She wanted him as much as he wanted herwith an uncompromising intensity that could not be denied.
Hed wanted to teach her a lesson, but it was he whod been cautioned. Passion worked both ways. In using it against her, hed been the one burned. Shed gotten under his skin, and he didnt like it. But it wouldnt change anything. He wouldnt let it.
She scrambled up the shore, moving purposefully up the rocky crags.
Flora, he called out. She stopped but didnt turn. Next time you make an offer like that, I wont refuse.
She flinched, and then she ran.