Hannah closed her eyes a moment and her shoulders slumped in relief that Conlan was safe, her reaction further flaring Slain’s anger.

“Why did you protect the lad?” he demanded. “Did it not matter to you what he did here?”

“He did not set the fire,” Hannah insisted and from the way her husband shook his head at her, she knew he did not believe her.

“Then why was he here?”

Hannah spoke the truth, though worried he would continue not to believe her. “He came to rescue me.”

“You believe such foolishness?”

“Nial told everyone that I had run away when he sold me to Muir. Then after finding me here, he told the clan that you abducted me and forced me to wed you. Conlan is a wild one, abandoned by his mum, and manipulated by far too many, including my father. I befriended him when none would and our friendship means much to him and to me. He came here to help me and I believe him. He said the fire was already burning when he arrived here.”

“Could someone have followed him here?”

Hannah was pleased that her husband was at least giving her words thought. Unfortunately, her response would not help Conlan. “It is doubtful. He is far too quick on his feet.”

“So I learned.”

“He takes to the trees and climbs them like he was born to them,” Hannah said, hoping her husband would see she was not trying to keep anything from him.

“I wondered how we lost track of him so fast.” Only a slight scowl lingered on his face as he asked, “You truly trust this lad?”

Hannah placed her hand to her chest. “With all my heart. As wild and fearless as Conlan can be, he has always been truthful with me. Besides, my father need not set a fire to further ignite his feud with you. Our marriage alone gives him righteous cause to attack you.”

“Let him,” Slain challenged, slamming the goblet down on the desk and taking quick strides toward her. “You are my wife. Nothing will change that and no one will ever take you from me.”

He seemed to dare her to argue with him, though he gave her no chance to do so. His lips came down on hers in a kiss that was meant to confirm his words. She belonged to him and he belonged to her, for she would let no one take him from her. She threw her arms around his neck and returned his kiss, letting him know she felt the same and not caring about the pain to her bruised jaw. She wanted this kiss, ached for it, and ached even more for what they would share.

Slain’s passion spiraled so fast that he warned himself to slow down, to take her to their bedchamber and take his time making love to her. His manhood thought differently. It had swelled and hardened so fast, that taking it slow was impossible. He wanted to bury himself inside her now and take her hard and fast.

Then he tasted the blood in his mouth and he yanked his mouth off hers, horrified to see blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. In his thought of nothing but his need for her, he had forgotten about her injury, and now he had made it worse.

Hannah grabbed his arm as he went to step away from her. “No, do not do this. Do not deny us… do not deny me. I need you now. Right now.”

“I hurt you,” he said, angry at himself for continuing to swell with desire for her.

“No, you did not—”

“Do not tell me I did not hurt you,” —he shook a finger at her— “the blood is there for me to see and I taste it on my lips.” He wiped at his mouth and his anger grew when he saw blood upon his hand.

“I do not care—”

“I do. I will not bring harm to you,” he said, ripping his arm out of her grasp.

“You harm me more by denying me,” she accused.

“I do not deny you,” he said, fighting to temper his passion and his tone. “We will go to our bedchamber and I will make certain I cause you no more pain.”

Her frustration had her shouting at him. “No! I have waited long enough. I want you here and now.”

“That is not going to happen. We will go to our bedchamber.” He turned to walk to the door.

Hannah scooted around him and braced herself against the door, her legs and arms spread, blocking him from leaving. “Here. Now.”

His wife’s legs and arms spread wide only served to fire his passion that raced as uncontrollably through him as the fire had done to the building tonight. His manhood had never throbbed with such an unrelenting ache as it did now and he worried he would not be able to contain it.

“Move,” he ordered.

“Make me,” Hannah challenged, seeing his need was as great as hers was by how his manhood had jutted up, strong and stiff, beneath his plaid.

“Do not push this, Hannah,” he cautioned.

She moaned, dropping her head back against the door. “I want you to push deep inside me over and over and ov—”

“I am warning you, wife,” he said, a rumbling growl rolling out with his words. “Move away from the door.” He was relieved when with a heavy sigh of defeat, she stepped away from the door, though he should not have been fooled that she would obey him that easily.

Hannah whipped off her garments as her feet worked off her boots and she stood naked in front of Slain so fast he stood there stunned, though not for long.

He undid his plaid as he approached her. “You asked for this, wife.”

Hannah tossed her chin up. “I begged for it, something a wife should not have to do from her husband.”

That rumbling growl spilled from his lips again as he stepped naked in front of her. “It is not your husband that will have his way with you tonight.”

Hannah poked him in the chest, a slight smile on her face. “I hope the savage will be able to satisfy a neglected wife.”

His arm snagged her around her waist so hard and fast that her head snapped back.

“You will not be able to walk by the time I finish with you.”

Hannah grinned. “Or will it be you who will not be able to walk?”

He grabbed her by the arm, dragged her over to the desk, bent her over it, and entered her so swiftly and so hard, she gasped and grabbed the edge of the desk. He pounded into her and she loved every mighty thrust. Her only disappointment was that it would not last long, for their challenging exchange had fired her passion much too strongly.

Slain’s fingers dug into her backside, holding her firm as he drove in and out of her with a rapid rhythm. He increased the speed along with her moans, knowing she was near to coming. He was as well, but he refused to allow himself to climax. He intended to make certain that his neglected wife got her fill tonight.

“Slain!”

His name so passionately screamed from her lips almost had him losing control, but he caught himself and with a few hard thrusts, she was screaming out in climax.

Hannah relished every wave of satisfaction that rushed through her, consuming her from head to toe until she thought it would ripple on forever, and she wanted it to. She felt Slain lean over her and a twinge of guilt stabbed at her for having been so wrapped up in her own pleasure that she did not know if he had climaxed.

Slain grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back to press his cheek to hers. “I’m just getting started, wife.”

The last shiver of her climax was fading away but spiraled when he once again moved, hard and quick inside her. Hannah found herself coming all too quickly for a second time and when her climax was near to ending, Slain pulled out of her, turned her over, set her on the desk, tilting her back, and threw her legs over his broad shoulders to enter her again, and damn if she did not build toward another climax.

Slain could not hold himself back any longer. He needed to climax, wanted to empty himself into her until he was completely spent, until he felt completely one with her.

Hannah could see he had denied his own pleasure to satisfy her and she loved this man even more for being so selfless. She wrapped her legs around his waist, determined to make him climax, maybe not as much as she had, but at least as hard as she had.

Slain lost it as soon as her legs wrapped around him and she clamped down tight on his manhood. He groaned long and hard as he exploded in a blinding climax that, for a moment, he thought would collapse him.

He fell down over her, his hands slapping down on the desk to either side of her head and keeping him hovered just above her.

She would have none of that. She wanted to feel him against her. She reached out, wrapping her arms around him and pulled him down on top of her. She sighed when his damp, warm body rested against hers. She could even feel the strong, rapid beat of his heart as it pounded in his chest.

“I love you more each day,” she whispered in his ear.

He had yet to catch his breath and her words robbed him of more breath since they gripped strongly at his heart. How had he been lucky enough to have gotten such a beautiful, loving, giving wife?

When he finally found his breath, labored as it was, he barely got out a whispered, “I love you.”

They lay there for a few moments, calming their breathing and their senses until finally Slain stood, went and retrieved a blanket from a chair and returned to lift his wife off the desk, wrap the blanket around her, and scoop her up in his arms.

“Our garments,” Hannah said as he walked to the door.

“Not important,” he said.

Hannah yawned and laid her head on his shoulder. “We go to bed.”

“Aye, wife, but not to sleep. I have not finished with you yet.”

Hannah smiled and snuggled her face against his bare chest.

* * *

Morning brought a misty, cloudy day and an empty bed. Hannah grew irritated at first to be left alone to wake after an endless night of lovemaking, then she recalled the fire. She scrambled out of bed, wincing as she did so. Her husband had kept his word about her having trouble walking the next day. She was sore, but it was worth every wince.

Hannah smiled at the memories she and Slain had made last night and her hand rushed to her stomach. They had to have made a bairn with as often as he left his seed inside her and the thought thrilled her. Then once again she recalled the fire and wondered if her father had anything to do with it.

She hurried into her garments and down the stairs to find her husband talking with Helice at the table in the Great Hall. They broke apart when they saw her and she wondered what secrets they shared.

“I will prepare another comfrey poultice for your jaw today,” Helice said and stood as Hannah approached the table.

“Not necessary, my jaw feels fine,” Hannah said, jealousy nipping at her that the woman shared something with Slain that she knew nothing about.

“You will make use of the poultice,” Slain ordered, “and anything else you may need.”

His grin annoyed her since he was so confident that he had done what he said he would… leave her too sore to walk.

However, she was walking fine, concealing the tenderness she suffered.

“I need no healing. I am well,” Hannah said about to lower herself on the bench across from her husband.

“I want you beside me, wife,” Slain said, tapping the spot next to him.

Hannah rounded the table and knew it would be a chore to lift her leg over the bench without wincing. She kept a forced smile on her face as she did, trying hard not to show her discomfort. She was grateful when the door opened, without a knock, and Imus entered. She quickly seated herself before her husband could notice her grimace.

Imus spoke as soon as Slain gave him a nod. “We picked up some tracks, but they led nowhere.”

“The fire?” Slain asked.

“It’s nothing but embers. Everything was lost,” Imus informed him.

“Hannah has told me that the lad says the fire was already burning when he arrived here,” Slain said. “Any thoughts?”

“Is the lad prone to setting fires?” Imus asked.

Hannah hated having to admit, “He has set fires before for my father.”

Imus shrugged. “Then he did not set the fire.”

Slain’s brow drew together in question. “Why do you say that?”

“If the lad has set fires before, he would have boasted to Hannah about setting this one,” Imus said.

“Then who set the fire?” Slain asked.

Imus looked down at his boots as if they had suddenly drawn his attention.

“If you know something or think you know something, tell me,” Slain ordered.

“I do not like adding to a man’s misery,” Imus said.

“Potsman,” Slain said.

Imus nodded reluctantly. “He was well into his cups when I saw him last night and later that evening Wilona was looking for him, worried that he had drunk himself stupid.”

“Find him and bring him to the fire’s site,” Slain said. “I will be there waiting.”

Hannah wondered if Imus could possibly be trying to divert attention away from himself since he had been the one to take coins from the man in the woods. Had he been instructed to set the fire? Yet he and Slain had been friends since young. Would the man truly betray such a longstanding friendship?

Slain turned to his wife as soon as the door closed on Imus. “There is much I must see to today. Rest and recover from last night,” he said with a grin, “for I will make sure you are not neglected again.” He kissed her cheek gently. “Your mouth does not pain you?” He felt a twinge of guilt for having made her bleed when he had kissed her.

Hannah laughed softly. “You definitely made up for your neglect.”

He brushed his lips over hers. “I am glad I have redeemed myself.”

“More than redeemed,” she said her smile spreading before a pain reminded her that her bruise had yet to heal. “As for my wound? Your kiss was worth the pain and I would suffer it ten times over for you to kiss me like that again.”

“You tempt me, wife,” Slain said and kissed the tip of her nose. “That is why I will go see to my duties.”

Hannah stood along with him. “I will go with you.” She gave him no chance to deny her. “If they believe Conlan responsible for the fire, they will look no further and that will leave the clan in danger. We need to know who did this and we will not know if we keep making assumptions.”

“You can walk?’ he asked teasingly and held his arm out to her.

“With your help.”

“Truly?” he asked his tone filled with concern.

She did not wish to see him suffer needlessly and took his arm. “Your help is unnecessary but greatly desired.”

Slain slipped her cloak on her shoulders before they left the keep, then took hold of her arm again.

A gentle mist rolled over the land and clouds hovered overhead. The dismal weather matched the bleak faces of the clansmen, the fire having upset everyone. All gave a respectful nod to their chief, though cautious eyes fell on Hannah.

“News of Conlan has spread and they wonder if they should trust me,” Hannah said, worry roiling her stomach.

“The truth will be known,” Slain assured her as if his words alone vindicated her.

At least he believed her and that mattered the most to Hannah.

Embers were still being doused with water as they approached the crumbled building.

The few men working there stopped and looked to Slain, their faces covered with soot and grime and their eyes filled with exhaustion and despair.

“Stay as you are,” Slain said softly to Hannah and approached the men. His voice rang with command and his tone with confidence. “No lives were lost. The building will be built again, its contents replaced. We lost little yet gained the strength of our clan that unites in time of trouble and grows ever stronger. The Clan MacKewan will never be defeated.”

The men let out a roar, their arms rising high in the air, and gloom left their eyes, replaced by a spark of pride.

A shout from the edge of the woods drew everyone’s attention and Slain turned just as Imus and another man emerged, Imus carrying a body in his huge arms.