Highland Spitfire (28 page)

They were hard.

Possessive.

Perhaps even arrogant, but she tumbled over the edge into bliss under the motion of
his demanding thrusts. Her body was eager to be the vessel for his seed, every muscle
she had straining upward, toward him in a bid to make him as mindless as she was.

He growled when he lost the battle, his body drawing tight as he buried himself to
the hilt. His seed flooded her before he rolled over, the bed ropes groaning as he
dropped heavily onto the bed.

“I meant to be…more caring…”

She turned to look at him. “Ye were. Ye always have been.”

He reached out to smooth her hair away from her face. “I thought about it…about ye
every night.” His eyes flashed with something, some emotion that touched off a similar
one inside her.

He rolled onto his side and propped his head on his hand. “I thought about how much
I missed the sound of yer breathing next to me.”

It was an unexpected compliment.

It warmed her. She rolled toward him, filling her senses with his scent, and sighed.

* * *

“Ye seem to have neglected to tell me brother yer news.”

Marcus was leaning in the passageway, concealed in the shadows as supper finished
up. For how large a man he was, he was rather well accomplished in the art of hiding
in the shadows.

“And ye continue to be very well-informed on the personal details of my marriage,”
Ailis said.

Marcus had his arms crossed over his chest. “Ye must admit, mistress, having a Robertson
wed to me brother is something unexpected enough to draw attention.”

“It’s been months now.”

“Aye,” he conceded, “and ye’ve done well.”

She had. Ailis didn’t counsel herself against the rise of pride, because it was hard
earned. “It is the first spring I have no’ had to attend a funeral in a long time.”

Marcus nodded, his expression grim with memory.

“Of course now, we’re feuding with the Gordons.”

“Were ye truly at peace with them?” she challenged him. “Lye Rob seemed intent on
wedding me in order to have the numbers to match yers. I know me father always forbade
me to be in the hall when he was there. He often said, with the Gordons, he never
knew just where he stood.”

“Well, there is that.”

Marcus wasn’t going to concede any further. Ailis decided it was part of his nature.
Helen moved past them, drawing his attention.

“When are ye going to take her home?” Ailis asked, feeling just a bit guilty about
using Helen’s plight to change the subject.

Marcus stiffened but clamped his mouth closed.

Ailis smiled. “Well now, ye are no’ the only one who can be pushing their noses into
the private affairs of others, saying it’s on account of wanting to protect those
ye care about. Helen is important to me.”

Marcus chuckled softly. It was a menacing sound and reminded her of Bhaic.

“Is it a bargain ye want, lass?” he asked her. “An agreement to let ye deal with me
brother in yer own time, and in return, ye will forget to mention to me father that
I have nae heeded his command concerning Helen?”

“I wish to tell me husband meself,” she admitted. “And I am no’ sure why it concerns
ye. There is no threat from waiting a few days more before saying anything.”

“Providing ye do nae do anything foolish.” His gaze dropped to her belly. “That is
me blood growing there. MacPherson blood, which I’m sworn to protect.”

She gasped, slapping her hand over her mouth to smother her horror. “I would…
never
…” She gagged.

She wasn’t so sheltered she didn’t know what he was talking about. There were ways
to unseat a growing babe. Plants that would see the job done.

“Well then.” He straightened up. “I suppose I can stop having yer maids watched. But
I do confess to being curious as to why ye have nae told me brother. The pair of ye
do seem to be getting along far better than anyone might have hoped for. I simply
wish to be sure, before raising yer brother’s hopes.”

And that was the very root of why she hadn’t told Bhaic about the baby growing inside
her.

She knew it was true now, even if she hadn’t yet felt it move. It had been over two
cycles since she’d bled, and her queasy belly still hadn’t settled. She couldn’t stand
the sight of raw meat. Even after it was cooked, her belly still rebelled most of
the time.

The midwife claimed it would pass as her belly began to round. Bhaic would know when
that happened. The question that weighed on her mind was what would he do? Would he
put her from his bed? Consider his duty satisfied?

It shouldn’t have bothered her so much. Men often did such things.

But it tore at her heart. Just the thought made her eyes sting with tears.

She climbed up the stairs, the sight of the chamber she’d first used making her sniffle.

Men had so many more rights than women when it came to marriage. No doubt if Bhaic
put her from him, she would have to be content with her place.

Stop it! Ye are convicting the man without evidence…

She tried to concentrate on the fact that Bhaic had always been kind to her.

Well, he’s always wanted ye in his chamber too…

Yet, it still seemed like his chamber as she entered it. Even though rooms didn’t
have genders, she looked at the large wooden chairs and tables and just felt like
it suited a man. The bed was huge, the canopy a dark green.

Once she’d disrobed and crawled between the sheets, she noticed Bhaic’s scent. It
was soothing as she drifted off to sleep. But her mind was still full of turmoil,
picking and poking at the unknown future coming her way.

But her dreams were kind. Full of sunshine and bliss. She warmed as though in the
middle of an August day, feeling perspiration break out on her skin.

And it felt good.

So very delicious.

She was twisting in the grip of pleasure, craving it, straining toward it. All of
it centered under her bud.

She gasped and opened her eyes, realizing she was more awake than asleep. The room
was only faintly light, the predawn light falling over Bhaic’s head of raven black
hair where it was nestled between her spread thighs.

“Bhaic…”

Her voice was a raspy whisper.

“Hmmm?” He swept his tongue along her open folds, sending a jolt of intense need through
her. She wanted to argue.

Needed to say…something…

But he was teasing her little pearl, worrying it with his tongue. She was arching
up, lifting toward him, her hands twisting in the bedding as her eyes slid shut.

It had to be wrong.

But it felt so good. She was on the edge of climax, her own little sounds of enjoyment
filling the chamber. Her body drew tight as he sucked on her, adding just enough pressure
to send her spiraling out of control. The pleasure gripped her and wrung her like
a wet cloth. She forgot to breathe because it was so intense, twisting and jerking
as it spread through her.

When she came to her senses, Bhaic was watching her, his fingers still playing softly
over her tender folds.

“Ye…should…nae have…done that.”

He rose up, giving her a glimpse of his hard body. The sheer erotic nature of the
moment made her breathless once more. Details fell aside, becoming meaningless. She
lifted her arms in welcome, earning a growl from him.

He came to her, covering her and settling into her open thighs. He nuzzled her hair,
the scent of her own body clinging to him as he seated himself deeply inside her.

His member was hard, but she was so wet from his attentions, he slid smoothly into
her. He was breathing hard, the sounds harsh and so very male. She lifted toward him,
feeling him draw tight, his member hardening further before his seed was flooding
her.

“Sweet Christ…”
He rolled over, pulling her along with him and settling her head against his chest.
“Ye have become an addiction, Ailis.”

She traced one of the ridges of muscles on his chest with her fingers, trying to absorb
every detail about him. Tiny things she had never noticed about other men fascinated
her when it came to Bhaic. She felt as if time was slipping through her grasp, just
as the grains of sand flowed through an hourglass.

It might be their last moment together before he learned of the babe growing inside
her.

“I am going to do that to ye again, lass…”

She tapped his chest with her fingertip. Shyness gripped her, but so did the unmistakable
knowledge that she’d enjoyed it full well.

She’d be a hypocrite to argue.

His chest rumbled with amusement. “No agreement? Good. Me charms are working on ye.”
He stroked the hair back from her face.

“None that would nae make me a liar.”

He made a low sound under his breath, one that said he was unmistakably pleased. “As
I noticed when I met ye, ye are most definitely a woman.”

She choked on her amusement. “And as ye informed me on our wedding night…ye enjoy
companions who are women enough to enjoy being intimate with a man.”

He rolled her over, coming up on his elbow while she was on her back. His blue eyes
were pensive. “Would ye rather have cold duty?”

She fought the urge to look away. It was a private moment, and yet, one she realized
she needed to share with him if she didn’t want to feel the bite of loneliness. “No.
Truly.”

His lips curved, victory shimmering in his eyes.

“Do nae be so smug now,” she warned him.

His grin became only more roguish. “I earned it. No’ just any man can take the time
to be a good lover.” He leaned down, hovering over her lips as he cupped one of her
breasts. “And ye enjoyed it full well,”

She ended up looking away, uncertain. He reached out and stroked her cheek, gently
bringing her face around to him again.

“We truly need a honeymoon.”

She laughed. “This is the Highlands, not some palace.”

He looked up at the stonework that formed the tower they were in. “Still, it’s a fine
chamber, is it no’?”

She realized what he was asking. “Finer than the one I was raised in. But me brother
has ideas about adding to Robertson Castle.”

He nodded, toying with her hair as the room brightened with the dawn.

“I enjoy most of all that ye took the time,” she said. It was a confession, one that
came from her unsteady emotions. One born inside her desire to find herself at home
in his world.

His expression became sensual, his eyes flickering with pleasure. In that moment,
she felt settled and cherished. She lifted her shoulders off the bed, seeking his
mouth with hers. Kissing him to keep any thoughts from spoiling it.

Reality would return soon enough.

* * *

Ailis looked up in the late afternoon. There was something happening in the yard.

“What is that?” Ailis asked.

Duana surprised her by answering, “A party of Grants. Looking for shelter for the
night, no doubt.”

There was still a line of clanswomen waiting to see her. Most of them had children
with them that they intended to discuss apprenticeships for. Serving in the castle
started young because it instilled loyalty, and those who knew no other home were
far less likely to agree to poison the laird. She couldn’t leave them without hearing
their cases, but failing to welcome guests would also be looked on as a slight. The
women watching her knew it, their expressions becoming strained. Some of them had
spent days on the road, traveling from the villages that dotted the MacPherson land.

“Duana, please welcome our guests and tell them I shall attend them as soon as my
duties permit.”

The Head of House hesitated for a moment, but her features remained serene. She slowly
lowered herself. “Yes, mistress.”

It wasn’t so much what the Head of House had done or said as the reaction to it. The
women turning bread nodded, the young lads who helped out in the kitchens watching
it all with their impressionable eyes.

Three months. So short a time.

Well now, ye did get shot…

She smiled and focused on the little girl in front of her.

Ailis didn’t make it back to the hall until the cook was setting out supper. Her belly
was still queasy, but she had to make an appearance. Near the high ground, there were
Grant retainers tonight. Only about a dozen, but their plaids stood out.

She’d almost made it to the stairs when she spotted the woman sitting at the high
table. Whoever she was, she was stunning, her cheekbones high and her skin flawless.
She had sparkling blue eyes and a head of auburn hair that looked as though the setting
sun was trapped in it. Men were watching her, enchanted by her. She had a soft laugh
and seemed to know exactly how to mesmerize the men.

But what chilled Ailis’s blood was that she was aiming her eyelash flutters at Bhaic.

And her husband was enjoying every moment of it.

Someone cleared their throat, and then several others did the same. Bhaic looked up,
catching sight of her.

“Ah…me wife, at last.”

He got up and pulled a chair out for her. Ailis settled into it, happy to be between
the woman and Bhaic.

* * *

Supper seemed to last for a small eternity. Tonight it was Brenda Grant who made Ailis
long to escape the high ground. She toyed with her meal until at last she could excuse
herself without drawing too much attention.

She didn’t escape Bhaic’s notice, though. He followed her into the passageway, catching
her wrist and pulling her to a stop when she’d been intent on going above stairs to
hide.

“Ailis?” His keen stare was cutting into her. “What’s wrong?”

She bit her lower lip, trying to find a way to state her concerns without sounding
jealous.

Well, ye are jealous…

Still, she didn’t want to sound like a harpy. But she certainly felt like one. Brenda
was beyond lovely. Half the men in the hall had drooled over her fair features. What
had bothered Ailis the most was the way the woman seemed to know exactly how to keep
those men hanging on her every word.