Chapter Thirteen
Mairead knew what she wanted, but she also knew that after her emphatic decree by the river it was not going to be as easy as saying “I’ve changed my mind.” However, she was determined and fate was on her side. It had given her rain, protection, and this chance to claim her future. “Then just sit for a while and at least get warm.”
Hamish hesitated, but he was chilled to the bone. He had mentally compartmentalized the cold, but now that they had found shelter and had a fire, the need to get warm was pressing at him.
They sat for several minutes, both staring at the flames as they flickered and curled. With the room being small, the temperature was quickly growing more comfortable. Mairead let the blanket pool around her waist and untied the leather strip that was keeping her hair from tumbling free. She used her fingers as a makeshift comb and worked to get some of the bigger knots out of her hair.
Silence filled the room. Normally, Mairead was content to just listen to the crackle of wood as it burned, but she had a feeling that at any moment Hamish would announce he was warm enough and leave her alone. They needed to talk, but she worried that discussion on any topic—especially that of love or marriage—would drive him out the door faster. There was one, however, that would not.
“Ulrick did not just promise to make me his own when he returns.” Mairead knew Hamish heard her, but he just continued staring into the fire. “I did not know that Robert and Selah knew anything about Ulrick’s threats, but I realized yesterday when she told me what they overheard that they are unaware of their extent.”
Hamish did look at her then. His dark green eyes narrowed. “There’s more?”
Mairead studied her fingers, which were intertwined on her lap. “Ulrick knew that I might take steps to prevent him from doing so. He promised to kill anyone who intervened—Robert, Selah, and even little Rab. And if I dared to marry someone when he was away, then he would take great pleasure in gutting them alive.” She looked up then and saw that Hamish was watching her.
Hamish tensed his jaw, remembering her threat to marry a stranger rather than him. “What about your great plan to snatch a Mackay?”
Mairead frowned at him. “I was never serious about marrying a Mackay. I don’t know them and what little I do scares me.” Hamish knew Mairead was right to be scared about the Mackays. Under the leadership of MacHeth, Iye Mor Mackay, and now Donald Mackay, Clan Mackay was known for their strength, courage, and skill in soldiering. Their warlike reputation was echoed in their motto, “with a strong hand.”
Hamish stared at Mairead. Her hair was a mess and her chemise clung to her curves. He had never seen a woman looking more beautiful. If Mairead had gone to the Mackays, she would have found a champion there. More than one most likely and the idea caused his eyes to grow cold and unfeeling. “The plan has merit. Ulrick would not want to face the wrath of the Mackays to get to you.”
“What about the wrath of the McTiernays?” she posed, her eyes wide and serious. “Wouldn’t they protect me just as fiercely?”
Hamish narrowed his gaze. His heart was starting to pound at the implication and he was afraid to assume that she might have changed her mind. “Does it matter? I thought you would never tie yourself to a man who you believed had been compelled by honor and sacrifice.”
Mairead swallowed, hating her own words being parroted back at her. “It matters. Would they?”
Hamish studied her for several long seconds, nothing in his expression giving away the turbulent emotions he felt inside. “Aye. More fiercely than any clan in Scotland.”
Mairead sat still for several seconds. She needed to finish telling Hamish everything, but she needed to know one thing first. “Why would you agree to marry someone you think would make you miserable?”
Hamish scowled darkly. “Those are your words, not mine.”
Mairead’s chin jutted out. “Only after you begged me to let you go that . . . that day,” Mairead challenged softly, unable to say the words “when you made love to me.” “You said that my ‘please’ would cause you to do something that would make us both miserable.”
Confusion infiltrated Hamish’s implacable features, causing them to soften as he realized his role in her refusal. “That is because leaving Foinaven, your sister, and even Robert and Rab, would make you miserable.”
Mairead closed her eyes. Hamish did not believe they would be unhappy; he feared taking her from her home. She shared that fear and it was time he knew why. “I love Foinaven and consider it my home, but that has not been why I have been so reluctant to leave it.” She had his full attention then. “Ulrick threatened to kill all I loved if I was not here when he returned.”
Hamish breathed deeply as the desire to kill Ulrick once again consumed him. He did not want to scare her and rose to his feet. Rage was erupting inside him, racing along his every nerve. Part of it was aimed at Mairead for trying to handle the burden by herself. She claimed to love him, but not once had she trusted him enough with the truth.
Hamish turned and Mairead could see that he was once again preparing to move outside. She reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him. Her breath caught in her throat when he looked down at her. His green eyes had grown dark and were smoldering with a mixture of anger and a possessive intensity that made her heart flutter. Jeán and Lynnea were right. Hamish did not just want her. He loved her. He may not say the words, but at this moment it did not matter. “Do not leave me.”
“I will only be outside.”
“That is not what I meant. I want to marry you.”
Hamish’s jaw twitched. “There is no need, Mairead. I will make sure that Ulrick will never be a threat to you or anyone else you love.”
Mairead’s brow furrowed and she rose to her feet, forgetting that she was in only her chemise. Her full focus was on Hamish. “That is what you think? That I’m using you to ensure my safety and that of my family?”
Hamish fought to keep his desire in control and his expression emotionless. “I can give you other options. Ones that can offer you a future of your choosing, not one you were forced into accepting.”
Mairead’s heart almost stopped. Then it began to pound furiously. There was only one option that could ensure her happiness. Now that she had accepted that fact, it was time that Hamish did too.
“You asked me to marry you. Was that only because you wanted to save me? Because if so, then we really do need to discuss those other possibilities.” Mairead rose to her feet. Her question was more of a challenge, a declaration, a promise. “But I think they were an excuse. I think you want to marry me. And would even if there was no Ulrick, danger, my sister, or the choices made twelve years ago.”
A shadow crossed Hamish’s features as raw emotions warred inside him. Mairead wanted to say yes to his proposal, but she was waiting for declarations of love—something he could not give her, possibly ever. Every time he came close to voicing the emotion, things went wrong. Actual proclamations resulted in disaster. He may not be able to say it out loud, but Mairead was his, no one else’s, never had been and never would be.
Mairead found herself suddenly pulled against his chest. His eyes burned down into hers. “No more games, Mairead. No more delays. We will marry tomorrow when we return.”
Mairead grabbed the front of his leine, refusing to let him go back out into the cold. “Then stay with me.”
Hamish shook his head and his hands enfolded hers. She squeezed her fists tighter and he closed his eyes, seeking the fortitude he needed to walk away. He wanted her, but he needed them to be bound together first. “When we marry, I want no one to ever doubt that it was our choice. Yours and mine. Uncontrolled passion will not have a part in dictating our futures.”
To his surprise, Mairead nodded, genuine agreement sparkled in her eyes. And yet she did not let go. “You said no more delays. I agree. I pledge myself to you right now. There is no priest anywhere near Foinaven. A handfast needs no witnesses. Only you, me, and God. There is no reason to wait.”
Hamish blinked down at her. “Just you and me?” he asked, a mixture of confusion and a need for reassurance in his voice. “You do not want your sister to be a witness?”
Mairead shook her head. “I am tired of letting others influence my actions and decisions. I don’t want to worry about Selah and Robert and their reaction. I don’t even care about Ulrick and his threats. We can handle whoever dares to try. All I know is that I love you and I want to be yours and more than anything I want to know that you’re mine.”
With those words of love and trust, Hamish felt the cracks in the wall around his heart begin to break. It scared him. He was already vulnerable and she had too much power over him as it was. But he would never love another woman as much as he did Mairead. His arms came around her, pinning her to his body, possessive, certain, his hold unbreakable. He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her against him and the fact she wanted him back with the same intensity.
“To pledge now, to God, even without witnesses, would be just as binding,” Hamish agreed. “But know this, as soon as there is a priest, this union will be made permanent. We will not be revisiting this decision in a year and a day.”
Mairead smiled up at him, her face full of longing and complete assurance this was what she wanted. Some allowed that handfasting was a temporary union and either party could elect to dissolve it after a year and a day so that it was as if it had never happened. “Nothing will get me to let you go, Hamish. Not even you and your arrogant, flirtatious ways.”
For the first time, Hamish felt completely reassured. “Determination and persistence. Such fantastic qualities,” he said as he smiled down at her, flashing his heart-stopping grin that broke hearts wherever he went.
Mairead reached up to trace his incredible smile with the pad of her finger. Jeán was right. A girl had to love a man with dimples. It was an unfair advantage and he knew it. “I take you Hamish of the clan MacBrieve to be my husband. I make this pledge to you and to God.”
Hamish swallowed the emotion threatening to choke him. It was rare to marry this way. Handfasts were still common as priests were difficult to find in many of the more remote areas of Scotland, but usually the ceremony had witnesses. However, they were not necessary. It only made the marriage easier to prove. A couple only needed to exchange their consent for a union to be just as legally and bindingly married by the law of both church and state. “I take you Mairead of the clan MacMhathain to be my wife. I make this pledge to you and to God.”
With a groan, Hamish cupped her face and claimed her mouth with his. The moment he said the words, his control left him and the need to kiss her, to have her taste in his mouth, to feel his desire returned in her embrace, became nearly crippling. He kissed her hard. His tongue plundered into her accepting mouth. Mairead responded with a feverish intensity that ignited in him a passion that had been dormant too long.
Hamish forced himself to slow down. His body was on fire and she was so accepting, trusting, and willing that he had to fight the desire to bury himself inside her, then and there, without preliminaries. For tonight nothing would stop him from making Mairead his, claiming her so that she could never leave him for another. But he also wanted her to feel treasured. With a gentleness he had not known he was capable of, he pulled back, tracing the contours of her lips with his own.
After a moment, Mairead relaxed into him, her lips softening. Hamish was kissing her. Thoroughly. Completely. It held such tenderness and longing that it melted her insides and brought unexpected tears to her eyes. He loved her.
Mairead wrapped her arms around his neck and caressed him lovingly. She enjoyed this gentle side to him, but he had lit a fire in her two days ago that had yet to be extinguished. She needed more and greedily swept her tongue across his lower lip, darting it inside when he opened to her. Hamish moaned and slanted his head. Mairead mimicked him as he succumbed to her enticement to deepen the kiss.
A low rumble of satisfaction escaped from deep within him. His right arm began to drift lower and palmed her buttocks, pulling her closer, loving the feel of the curvaceous woman in his arms. Mairead raised her head in surprise and then recaptured his lips with a moan as she tunneled her fingers into the russet-brown waves of his hair and held on.
Hamish moved his hand up, cruising gently over the thin material of her chemise until it reached her breast. He began to knead the flesh in a sensual, torturous way, flicking his thumb over and over her nipple, relishing her response.
Mairead moved against him restlessly, her nipples pushing erotically against the thin material and into his palm. Her body began to vibrate with liquid fire as waves of desire beat at her. She could only cling to him, a safe anchor in a storm of growing, turbulent emotions.
When her hips began to grind against his own turgid arousal, Hamish could scarcely breathe. He had only just begun and he was not sure if he would last much longer if she continued her sensual attack. “Do not . . . do that,” he whispered huskily.
Mairead ignored his plea and her hands, of their own accord, found the hem of his leine and began to push the material upward. Without argument, Hamish helped her. With enormous eyes, she watched as he pulled the shirt over his head. Then his green eyes held hers captive as he freed his belt. His plaid hit the floor.
He stood naked in the firelight, but she was mesmerized by his eyes. They were filled with such intensity and hunger. And it was for her. Only her.
He reached out to touch her hair, which fell in tangled waves over her shoulders and down to her waist. The movement broke the spell of his gaze, letting her eyes drift over him. She could finally see the muscled breadth of his shoulders, the classic V of his torso, and his lean hips. When her eyes fell on his long powerful legs and what was between them, she stared. Her blood became hotter as her pulse raced. Hamish was huge. She knew she should be terrified of what was about to happen, but all she could think about was that she wanted him. God, how she wanted him.
Hamish’s hand let go of her hair and he stepped in close to her. He dropped soft, persuasive kisses into her hair as his fingers went to her shoulder and began to edge the sleeve of her chemise down her arm. Mairead splayed her hands over his broad chest, drinking in his strength as she entrusted herself to a man for the first time in her life. The chemise fell to the floor and her exposed breasts tingled when they came against his hair-roughened chest. Her hands started to explore the hard lines of his back, his waist, and hips. She loved to feel the hardness of his muscular body, but when his hands moved up and cupped her breasts, she could only hold on and close her eyes. She quivered.
With her body finally free of any garments, Hamish’s fingers brushed her silky skin, his thumb stroking her nipples into hard peaks. He murmured “sonuachar” before he lowered his mouth to taste the creamy offering.
At the first touch of his tongue and the scrape of his teeth, Mairead’s legs almost gave out. Hamish held on to her, keeping her from falling as he drew her into the moist heat of his mouth. Her body became boneless, liquid, aching. Then, without warning, Hamish swept her into his arms and the small points of her fingertips dug into the back of his neck and shoulders as he carried her across the room.
Hamish paused at the bed and kissed her intensely. Then he lowered her down, stretching out beside her, his larger, heavier frame dwarfing hers. “You’re beautiful,” he said with awe in a ragged voice.
He slid a finger down her cheek. She looked wildly desirable, framed by her magnificent mane of tawny hair. He was completely entranced by the softness of her skin, the curve of her hips. She was his own bean bhàsail, with seductive creamy thighs and pearly skin. That she did not know it made her all the more dangerous to his soul.
Hamish let his finger drift lower, along her throat, through the valley of her breasts and then splayed his hand across her flat stomach. He could not get enough of her. The more he touched, the more he needed. She took his breath away.
“I think of you constantly.” His breath was uneven with wanting her, needing her, burning for her, and knowing that he no longer had to fight his ever-growing desire.
Then, unable to delay another moment, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Mairead moaned and tilted into his embrace. He knew that she was gifting him with her body to show her undying love and devotion. It stirred something within him, something primal and his mouth became aggressive and more possessive.
Mairead was caught in a whirlwind of emotion and sensation. His kiss made her feel desired, beautiful, and more cherished than she could even describe. Her breath quickened and her breasts heaved in expectation with the increased fervor of his kiss. The outside storm also grew in intensity. The downpour’s rhythm created one in Mairead and she wrapped her arms tightly around Hamish, kissing him and whispering her love.
Hamish’s hands moved over her urgently. He needed to touch every part of her, to feel her crushed against his body and the soft fullness of her breasts against his chest. Mairead was so soft. Soft and sweet and vulnerable. And she offered herself without reserve.
He covered her body with his, bringing them slowly into full contact, and she moaned in pleasure. He once more aggressively claimed her lips as her hands skimmed over his large frame, pausing periodically to massage and pull him closer. It was as if she wanted to touch him and explore his body as he was doing with hers. Never had he felt this much desire, this much longing and need from a woman.
Hamish caressed her shoulders in fluid strokes, tracing the contours of her breasts, her ribs, and her belly. He allowed his hands to linger, cradling her breasts as he tore his mouth away and began to press hot kisses down the column of her neck. Unhurried, he moved down the curve of her throat, tracing her collarbone and bending lower.
A tremor started between her heated thighs and Mairead arched her back, desperate for his touch.
Her body curved toward him and Hamish smiled with satisfaction. She writhed as he delayed addressing her soft pleas, letting his fingers tease, pinch, massage, and stroke her breasts into a delirium. Then, unable to wait any longer, he licked one tight nipple, curling his tongue about it before drawing it into his mouth.
Mairead cried out softly and closed her eyes. He suckled, deep and deeper, eliciting sounds of pleasure and pain. Her breathing became erratic as undefinable sensations caused by his mouth and tongue coursed through her.
With a last flick of his tongue, Hamish shifted to her other breast, leaving his hand to continue the sensual onslaught as his mouth devoured her other peak.
Mairead clung to him. Heat was radiating from his skin. A hot tide of passion raged through them both as he continued to suckle while his hand began to slide lower.
His hand trailed down her stomach and Hamish pulled away to look at her. His hand found her soft curls and then, with a low, husky groan, he closed his fingers possessively over her. Mairead gasped and he was more than gratified at the sight before him. Her entire face was flushed, her mouth swollen, and her eyes were heavy with passion.
Then he touched her, exploring her with a deliberate possessiveness that made Mairead quiver. She was burning, hot silk in his arms—her body pliant, liquid heat. Another shudder went through her as he slipped a seeking finger inside her. He went lower still and dizziness swept over her as he found the sensitive flesh just below her soft, wet channel. There he drew an exquisite little pattern that nearly drove her over the edge.
Mairead closed her eyes and clung to his shoulders as he introduced another finger into her, crying out as he began to slowly separate his fingers, stretching her gently. He seemed to know exactly where to touch her, how lightly, how slowly, how deeply. She moaned as he dove deeper. He stroked her into ever-growing flames. Her body was on the precipice. She wanted more of him inside her and lifted her hips against his hand.
Hamish smiled a satisfied, possessive smile. He was so hard he hurt, and his imagination was going wild, thinking of all the things he’d like to do to her. But seeing her writhe wild beneath him was worth the wait.
With his knee, he urged her thighs wider. As slowly as he could manage, he settled himself in between and lifted her hips. She was slick with need, hot, tight, and velvet soft. He could wait no longer and began to penetrate.
He struggled against his need to thrust deep and hard. Mairead needed slow and gentle. Her eyes had closed tight.
“Put your legs around me.” He groaned the instruction. His face fell against her neck. When he felt her move to obey him, he plunged forward. Mairead cried out in pain and he shouted in pleasure.
Her body was made for his. Tight. Hot. Silken. He never wanted this feeling of euphoria to end. He only wanted to bury himself deeper into Mairead, and for her to feel as consumed by him as he was by her. But her body needed an opportunity to adjust to his size.
With painful control, Hamish kept still and kissed her gently. “The pain will soon be gone,” he assured her, kissing away her tears, “and when it is, I promise to give you more pleasure than you have ever known.”
Mairead had thought she had been prepared for him. She had seen him. She had known he was big, and she had even known there would be pain, but she had not realized that entering her would be so excruciating. Tears formed in her eyes. She was not sure she could endure a future of this.
Hamish began to move and Mairead resisted, fearing more pain. But as he moved the ache began to dissolve into the pleasure just as he had promised. Mairead felt him opening her, stretching her, making a place for himself in the very heart of her. His size and length were no longer to be feared, but welcomed. She arched her hips causing him to fill her completely.
Fully inside her, Hamish threw his head back. His eyes were shut tightly, teeth clenched, and a sharp groan escaped his throat. Slowly, afraid to hurt her again, he eased out and back in, trying to keep himself from bucking too hard.
Now that her body was adjusting, Mairead did not want him to move slowly. Her desire was strumming and rapacious. She became insistent, impatient, and began to set her own pace.
Hamish tried to calm her with kisses and caresses. If she didn’t relax, he was going to climax before he brought her pleasure. And he had vowed she would know ecstasy the first time she lay in his arms. “Mairead, you must slow . . .”
“No, no, no . . . I can’t.” Mairead rebelled at his delay, wanting it all.
His body began to cave to her demands. Moving within her, he thrust again, increasing with speed, plunging harder, grunting with the effort. Mairead moaned long and low, digging her nails into his back, her ankles gripping his buttocks and pulling him deeper within her.
Hamish basked in the exquisite feel of her soft flesh completely surrounding him. It was even better than he had imagined. Mairead’s eyes were half closed. Her legs were around his back, drawing him in farther as he immersed himself in the feel of her soft, warm body. He leaned down and claimed her mouth.
How he had longed for this moment; he almost could not believe this was real. Moans escaped her beautiful lips. This was how it was meant to be between a husband and a wife. He finally had found what he had seen been given to McTiernay brother after McTiernay brother. He had a woman who loved him—fully and unconditionally.
Hamish caught her hips in his hands and set a faster rhythm, using hard, sure strokes that drove deeper and deeper. As his pace increased, she matched him, raising her hips to his every thrust. Then suddenly Mairead gasped and then cried out, bowing her neck back, her hands curled into tight fists. Every muscle in her clenched and unclenched in small spasms.
Her soft cries of sensual fulfillment were the most incredibly exciting sounds Hamish had ever heard. He could no longer pace himself. The small convulsions squeezed him demandingly. “Mairead!” He barely heard his own muffled, exultant shout. His body surged deeply into hers one last time and then he was erupting inside her.
Mairead clung to him. Her mind was overwhelmed with new, erotic sensations flooding her body. But she knew one thing.
Hamish was hers.
From this moment forward, he belonged to her just as surely as she belonged to him.
* * *
Hamish slumped on top of her, holding himself up by his elbows so as not to crush her. They struggled to catch their breath. Mairead’s legs were still wrapped around him, her hands rubbing his arms, his chest, and his back. He rolled to lie beside her and pulled her against him. He could not get enough of her touching him.
She nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck as their legs intertwined. “I love you,” she murmured with a sigh against his chest.
Hamish closed his eyes. “I thought about what it would be like with you every night since I first laid eyes on you. But I had no idea,” he murmured.
Mairead smiled. She had hoped for words of love, but though she received none, she had no doubt of his feelings. Hamish loved her and someday he would no longer fear saying so. Until then, she would listen to what he did.
Hamish tucked her head underneath his chin and held her close. He was close to tears and did not want Mairead to know. He finally understood what Conor had been telling him about Laurel. If something pulled him and Mairead apart, Hamish would become a shell of a man, uncaring of anything and potentially dangerous to everyone.
He had not been numb for all those months from a broken heart. It had been frustration, wounded pride, a feeling of hopelessness that had caused him to shut down emotionally. But he had never once had a broken heart. He knew that now because he had never really loved anyone before. And he loved Mairead. With all his soul. And yet it scared him to think, let alone whisper the word. Nothing good had ever come from his saying it aloud, but he silently vowed to show her his love. He would be good to her, keep her safe and make such sweet love to her that thoughts of ever leaving him would never enter her mind.
Mairead raised her hand and stroked the line of his jaw, caressing the soft growth. Her hazel eyes locked on his, a faint smile touching her mouth. “What are you thinking about?”
Hamish propped himself on an elbow and looked down at her. He did not want her to know how vulnerable he felt and bent his head to kiss her. Two small fingers stopped him. “Was it Robert?”
“Aye,” he lied, only somewhat relieved that for once she had not guessed the truth to what he was thinking.
Mairead shifted to her side and reached out to caress his dimple. “I know the reasons behind your desire to keep your army secret, but at some point we really do need to explain your plan to Robert and Selah.”
Hamish caught her hand and slowly kissed her fingers. “You still as of yet don’t know my plan.”
Mairead frowned and tugged her fingers free from his grasp. She suddenly realized he was correct. She saw several men training, most of whom looked skilled, but using them went against the bloodshed he warned her about. If he had any army, it was for a purpose beyond what she considered and she very much wanted to demand he tell her what that was. They were husband and wife.
The challenging gleam in Hamish’s eyes silenced her demands. He fully expected her to plead for an explanation. Well, she refused to. She would not give him the satisfaction. She now had the luxury of trusting Hamish and she was going to do just that.
Well, for as long as she could.
“What if Ulrick comes after them?”
Hamish twitched his lips. “He won’t.” He was going to make sure that Ulrick came after him. And Hamish looked forward to it.
“Then, is it a long-lasting solution? Will it prevent someone else from trying what Ulrick has planned?”
Hamish grimaced and fell back onto the bed. He lifted his arm and rested the back of his wrist on his forehead. “The army will give my brother the means to protect himself and Foinaven, but if he chooses to wield them poorly, then . . . no. Robert must protect this clan. Nothing I leave with him—not even an army—can do it without his leadership. And I cannot predict what he will do once we are gone.”
“Aye, you can.”
“And so can you,” Hamish replied with a note of finality, for they both knew the truth. “There are always those seeking power and it will not be long before Robert’s weaknesses are exploited.”
“You wouldn’t be exploited.”
Hamish sighed heavily. “No one is infallible. But I prefer to handle things the McTiernay way. Anyone who tried to destroy them, their reputation or their clan, would most likely die in the attempt. Everyone knows this, so no one tries.”
Mairead bit her lower lip. “Perhaps, with the men you have gathered, no one will try against Robert.”
Hamish brushed his hand roughly over his face. “It takes more than just men, Mairead. Just as there are ways to effectively use a weapon, there are rules when dealing with those who oppose you.” Mairead tipped her head to one side, her hair falling in a slide over one shoulder. He tucked it back behind her ear and studied her expression. Her interest was earnest, prompting him to continue.
“First, never show your true emotions to your enemies. Keep them guessing about what you are thinking, and you’ll have the upper hand. Next is stability. An inconsistent leader lacks control. Anything out of control is considered weak. Therefore, when confronted, a leader needs to appear to have the situation under control, even if they don’t.”
“Is that all?” she asked, bending down to kiss his right dimple and then his left. “Just the two rules?”
Hamish caught the mischievous glow in Mairead’s eyes. She moved against him provocatively and he knew instantly that she was questioning his own ability to remain in control. He grinned at her and began speaking, implicitly accepting her dare. “When confronting an opponent, there are two more basic ones.”
Mairead leaned over and whispered, “Go on. I’m listening.” She began to nibble on his ear and he felt his exhausted body flare back to life. “One must also, uh, be aware of their surroundings and, um, remain cautious at all times. One should not feel safe”—swallow—“because those around them tell them that they are. A . . . a good strategist follows, uh, their instincts and, uh, anticipates situations and their consequences. If at all possible, one should never face an unknown.”
“Makes sense,” Mairead murmured, dipping down to kiss his chin, then shoulder and chest.
Her hands were everywhere, working their magic, soft and hypnotic, but Hamish refused to let her win. “And then, um, last,” he grunted, and then moved over her in a single fluid move. “When dealing with someone—even allies—never let them believe they are smarter or know more about what is going on.”
“Dealing with someone,” she repeated teasingly, and rose up to kiss his chin. “Does that include your wife?”
His wife. How much Hamish enjoyed hearing her say that. It was time he proved again that was exactly what she was. His. Forever. His mouth came down on hers for a long, soul-searing kiss.
When he finally freed her lips, Mairead smiled blissfully up at him. “You think like a McTiernay and not a MacBrieve.”
Hamish returned her grin with a wicked, sexy one of his own. “How would you know?” he asked, catching her wrists, holding them beside her head. “You have never met one.”
“I disagree.” Undaunted, Mairead pulled up and recaptured his mouth with her own. Hamish complied and ravished her with his lips and tongue. “Not only have I met a McTiernay,” she murmured, when he finally released her, “I married one.”
Hamish cocked his head to the side. “Perhaps. I’ve always felt more like a McTiernay than a MacBrieve. Robert is the tinker, the builder, the mason—not me.”
“And perhaps for the good of the clan that is all he should be, Hamish.”
Hamish knew what Mairead was hinting at. She wanted to stay at Foinaven. “Mairead . . .”
She put a finger to his lips. “Not to protect us. Ulrick is a short-term difficulty that I know you will address. Nor do I want you to stay as commander. But as laird, there are many clan problems you could fix. These are your people, Hamish, and they need you. Not a leader unwilling to make the hard choices.”
Hamish closed his eyes and touched his forehead to hers. She was asking him to overthrow Robert. It did not matter that it was supposed to be his. He had given it up and now had another life—a good life—with the McTiernays. “I thought you understood.”
Mairead blinked up at him. She saw his frown and his warring thoughts. She knew that it was not just loyalty, or a desire to protect Foinaven and its people, that had caused Hamish to invest so much of himself the past couple of weeks. He had an innate desire to lead his people. He just did not know how to do so without hurting his brother and her sister.
Unfortunately, neither did she.
“I love you and I will always support you.”
Hamish swallowed. The way Mairead looked at him turned his heart over, melting his every resistance. “Do not ever leave me, m’aingeal,” he said, almost choking on the words, releasing her wrist to cup her cheek.
“Never,” she vowed. “I will be with you always.”
The green and gold of her eyes swirled with passion. For a moment Hamish was held spellbound. What he felt for her was far more consuming than anything one simple word conveyed. Being with Mairead was not the sweet, longing romance he had been seeking all his life. It held much greater power. The kind that could build and destroy, that could drive a man to succeed or lead him to failure. His heart swelled with the sheer enormity of it all—of his love for her and the endless possibilities of their future together.
He lowered his head and captured her lips in a long, gradual kiss that contradicted the raging need building below his waist. Her lips met his gently, searching, seeking, and welcoming him without question and without reservation. The barriers of his control fractured and the kiss went from tender and reverent, filled with gentle emotions, to one of fierce need. He deepened their kiss and lay more of his weight on top of her. His hands memorized every inch of her as he feasted on her lush mouth.
Mairead made love to him with unrestrained enthusiasm and after they regained their strength, he once again brought her to the heavens. When he at last drifted off to sleep, listening to the rain finally begin to ease, her body was draped over his in the most gratifying way. One leg was entwined with one of his. Her arm was folded over his chest, and her head rested atop his shoulder with her dark gold hair fanned out behind her.
His last thoughts were that he had found heaven.