Moon Awakening (10 page)

The man was very animal-like sometimes. It must be a Highlander trait because she had not seen anything like it amongst her father's soldiers. No matter how fierce, they never conjured images of predatory beasts.

"How can you say you have not harmed me? You kidnapped me! Before I told you I was married to Talorc, you were going to leave me in the forest to be eaten by a wild animal. You forced me to cross the sea in a boat. You kissed me just to see if I was lying. Then you told your brother I was so inept at it, I was most certainly innocent." Her anger grew as she enumerated his sins.

"The kidnapping saved you from having to marry Talorc. That is a gift and well you know it."

"That is entirely beside the point, since your intent was to harm me, and the fact that your actions indirectly benefited me in some small measure does not negate your many other sins."

"I am surprised your father did not settle you in a nunnery. You speak like an abbess."

"How would you know that?" she asked deridingly.

"Knowledge of the world is necessary to keep my clan safe, so I acquire it."

"Humph."

His eyebrows rose at that and then that tempting gleam was back in his wolflike eyes. "I would not have allowed you to be eaten by wild animals."

"And how would you have stopped it? You intended for me to return to the keep on my own."

"My soldiers would have watched over you."

"A likely story. When you dropped me off your horse with the intent of sending me back to Talorc as message bearer, your soldiers were going with you."

"I left behind two warriors you never saw."

"What? Why?"

"They are watching the Sinclairs."

"You left spies behind?"

"Yes."

"And you expected them to watch over me when I traveled back to the Sinclair holding?"

"Yes."

"Oh." So, she hadn't been an expendable pawn. She wasn't sure why, but that knowledge made her feel much better.

"You still forced me to cross the water in your small boat."

"It's a very sturdy craft and I did not know of your fear of the water when I decided to take you."

"Would it have mattered?"

He shrugged. "I might have knocked you out so you would not be unduly distressed."

"You think knocking me asleep would have been an improvement?" she demanded in outrage.

"Over you spending more than an hour locked in terror, yes."

She shook her head, unable to think of a single thing to say to that audacious comment.

"I have kept my promise to you and I will have you admit as much. Now, English," he added when she said nothing.

"You did hurt me… with your kiss." Far more than kidnapping her from a clan she did not wish to belong to.

"I did not. I was gentle." His voice suggested he'd made a major concession.

She didn't remember much gentleness… only heat and pleasure and then terrible shame. "You humiliated me… and in front of your brother, too."

"I did not humiliate you."

"Must you disagree with everything I say?"

"If you are wrong, yes."

"But you did humiliate me. You made me enjoy it. You made me kiss you back, but all you were doing was testing me." Could he truly not fathom how horrible that would be for a woman, to believe she was wanted and discover belatedly, after exposing her own inappropriate desire, that it was all a stratagem? "I acted like a wanton and it was nothing but a horrible, rotten test on your part," she whispered, her head down because she could not stand to look in his face when she said it.

"You are upset you responded to me?"

Were all men so ignorant of the way a woman thought, or just this one? "Yes."

"Then it is not my fault you were embarrassed, but your own."

She looked up at that, unable to believe he had said something so cruel.

"My fault? I did not invite your kiss."

"You had lied to me. I had no choice but to test the veracity of your claims. And by your own admission, it was not my kiss that caused you to be hurt, but your response to it." He sounded like he was terribly proud of that logic.

She was stunned because he was right of course. Oh, he had hurt her all right, but she could see where his male reasoning had led him to believe it was the only course of action. Had she not responded to his kiss, Emily would only have been angered by his boorish behavior, not humiliated. It was her own weak behavior that had hurt her the most.

A lump formed in her throat. Why did life have to be so painful? She could look back over her years and see a pattern that shredded the very depths of her soul. It was her reaction to her father's visit the day after he tried to drown her that had sent him off to find Sybil. It was her inability to warm to her stepmother and be the lady Sybil wanted her to be that had kept a mother's love far out of Emily's grasp.

She had ruined her own chances with Talorc by responding with temper instead of understanding to his impatience and rude behavior. She had ruined her chances of effecting a rescue for Cait by getting herself kidnapped as well with her lies, and she had sown the seeds of her own humiliation when she had responded to Lachlan's kiss.

A small voice in her head said she was painting too dark a picture, but at that moment she could not see beyond her misery. She seemed to invite rejection like an old friend wherever she went and whatever she did.

A sob escaped before she pushed her fist into her mouth to prevent another sound coming out.

"Emily?" Lachlan sounded worried.

He probably thought she was going to succumb to another bout of ill humor again, but she was not that weak. Unutterably foolish sometimes, but not hopelessly weak.

She swiped at her tears. "I am s-sure y-you are right." She hated the way her voice broke, but she could not help it.

However, her tears did not mean she was going to lose control again.

"Do not cry. I forbid it."

"I'm not…" She sucked in air so she could talk without stuttering. "I'm not crying."

He said a word she did not recognize. It didn't sound Gaelic, but it might have been. She was not totally fluent, especially when it came to curses and the like.

"Responding to my kiss should not embarrass you," he informed her.

She almost laughed at that, but she was too busy trying to control the tears she had denied. "I should not have blamed you for my lack. I'm no better than a strumpet," she admitted.

"Strumpets have a lot more experience."

"Is that supposed to comfort me?" she demanded, glaring at him. Bad enough to behave like a woman of ill repute, but to have him tell her she wasn't very good at it was hardly flattering.

"Do you want me to comfort you?" he asked, looking slightly green at the prospect.

"Why not? There is no one else here to do it." Though she'd spent most of her life without someone there to comfort her. Abigail tried, but Emily had always been careful not to visit her worries on her younger sister.

The girl had enough of her own with her hearing affliction.

"I am a laird, not a nursemaid."

"I would not have known that if you hadn't told me so." She'd meant the words to come out mocking, but they ended on a sob and she turned from him, desperately wanting to get her feelings under control.

He pulled her back around and into an embrace that should have been awkward, but was not. It felt so natural she had to remind herself that he was the enemy. She fit against him as if their bodies had been made to be pressed together in just such a fashion and his arms felt secure around her.

It was comfort when she needed it most and she could not turn away, though her logical mind told her she should.

Wasn't she proving her weakness to him yet again?

His hand smoothed down her back. "Tell me why you are so upset. I do not understand."

"You kissed me and I liked it." She sighed. "I thought you liked it, too, but then I realized you didn't… that it was simply a test. You weren't affected by our embrace, but I was. That must mean I'm a true wanton. Even when you pulled away, I did not want you to stop."

He smiled down at her, his eyes warm with something she did not understand. "You are no wanton."

"I am. I know it, though I appreciate you trying to comfort me." She sighed. "Perhaps marriage to Talorc will not be so bad after all."

Lachlan went absolutely rigid and the hand rubbing her back now grabbed her shoulder with bruising bite. "What the hell are you talking about?"

She had no idea why he was so upset. Surely she was the one who should feel out of sorts for being forced to see a side of her nature she would rather have remained in ignorance of. "If I am wanton, I will find some solace in the marriage bed."

"You are not a wanton. Your response was for me, not the other laird." He looked ready to do violence.

But she did not feel any fear in the circle of his arms. Still, she had allowed the liberty of his holding her long enough. She needed to start acting like a lady if she wanted to believe herself to be one. She would never live up to Sybil's exacting standards, but Emily had her own code of honor and would not compromise it further.

She pushed out of his arms and indicated the door with the sweep of her hand. "You have other, more important matters to attend to, I am sure."

"You do not dismiss your laird. You wait for him to dismiss you," he growled, as if instructing a child in basic manners.

She rolled her eyes. "I cannot go anywhere, therefore I cannot be dismissed."

"Which means you wait for me to leave."

She bit back another frustrated sigh. No doubt he was right, but she wanted him to leave now. "I wish for a moment of privacy."

"You dare to order me?"

"I am not trying to offend you. I did not order you, if you will remember… but merely spoke my opinion. That is allowed, surely?"

"I did not ask for it."

"I must always wait until you do?"

His jaw looked hewn from granite and she wondered at his apparent anger.

"Lachlan?" she prompted in a soft voice.

"You do not have to wait for me to ask for your opinion to give it… in private," he said as if making a major concession.

"Thank you," she replied, though she personally thought she should not need his permission to do so. She was smart enough to refrain from saying so, however. No doubt Sybil would have agreed with him. She had certainly never encouraged Emily to speak her mind. "Well…"

"What?"

"Are you going to leave now?" she asked, trying not to sound overeager and offend him again.

"Not yet."

"Why not?"

"There is something I must do first."

"What?" Emily asked.

Her eyes were wide with shock when Lachlan's lips closed over hers. Which would have been amusing if he wasn't aching so much from having her tell him how much she had enjoyed his kisses. Had the lass really not expected him to claim her lips again after that?

But to say in almost the same breath she thought she would respond to Talorc the same way had brought Lachlan's beast raging to the surface with more than desire fueling his blood. He'd wanted to rip the other laird's throat out for nothing more than the image of Emily sharing her body and her passion with the other man.

Her mouth was open on a gasp and Lachlan took immediate advantage, delving inside with his tongue to sip at the nectar waiting for him there. How could she believe he did not enjoy her like this? He had needed to test her yesterday, to see if she was as innocent as she claimed, but he'd never said he did not enjoy it.

She didn't fight him, but hung suspended in his grasp as he tasted her mouth and imprinted his wolf senses with both her flavor and feminine scent.

He lifted his mouth only a breath from hers. "There is no shame in this, Emily. I want your response. I crave it."

"Is it another test?" she asked, vulnerability shimmering in her violet eyes.

"No."

"Then why?"

"Because I want to. Because I want you."

"Oh. But I don't want to be a wanton."

"I won't let you become one," he promised.

He connected their mouths again, exultation roaring through him when she made a small sound and melted into him.

He was a fool for kissing her again, for tempting his beast as well as his manly desire.

But there was something so perfect about this woman. She was destined for his rival, but she smelled right, she felt right, and she tasted like ambrosia. His beast howled with the need to come out and claim her. His bones ached with the desire to make the change, to show her his power. It was insane and he could not give in to it, but his body shook with the craving and a growl her human ear could never hear rumbled low in his chest.

If he did not do something quickly, he was going to lay her on her bed, strip her clothes from her body and make love to her until neither of them could walk. Not only was she too fragile for such handling, but she was human and she was English. She would believe that if he took her completely, that it would mean they had to marry. Hell… even the Sinclair Chrechte saw mating that way.

He shoved her away from him and then grabbed her again before she fell on her backside. "We will have our first swimming lesson now."

He only hoped that the cold water of the loch would restore some of his self-control.

Emily swayed in his grasp and blinked at him, her purple gaze hazy with passion. "I really am a strumpet."

He glared at her. "Liking my kisses does not make you a whore."

"It does when I am promised to another."

"No, it does not."

"There are those in the Church who teach woman is evil, a temptress. I feel like a temptress now." She blinked up at him, her lips parted, her breasts rising and falling with each rapid breath she took, their turgid peaks pressing against her bodice. "I want you to kiss me again. Surely that means I am depraved."

"It means I have roused your passion, 'Tis good to know." He placed his fingertip over the quickly beating pulse in her neck. Her blood was rushing for him and for no other. That did not make her a wanton; it made her more alluring than any other woman he had known. "I am tempted by your sweet innocence, but that does not make you a temptress. I kissed you, English, not the other way around."

"That is true. Does that mean you are the seducer?"

"You have not yet been seduced."

"I haven't?"

"Am I buried between your thighs?"

She gasped. "No!"

"Then you have not been seduced."

"Oh…" She chewed on her bottom lip.

"You would not respond so easily to another man."

"Are you certain of that?"

"Yes."

"You are very arrogant," she said speculatively. "Perhaps it is only that arrogance speaking now."

She had no idea what the drought of her being attracted to another man did to him, how angry it made him. But he could tell from the way she spoke that she was not trying to make him jealous. She was genuinely worried about her morals.

It would have been bloody amusing if she didn't look so upset.

"Did you ever want to touch one of your father's soldiers?" he asked, convinced the answer had to be a negative for her to be as wholly innocent as she was.

"No." She clasped her hands, as if pleased by that reminder. "And they were not all surly men. Some were quite pleasing to look at, but I did not feel the things I do when I am near you." Then her expression took on a worried cast again. "Of course I did not spend much time with them. It would not have been proper."

"You rode on Angus's horse with him. Did his nearness affect you the way mine does? You smiled at him," he reminded her. It rankled, that smile. For she'd given his soldiers many such looks while ignoring him completely the evening before.

"That was to confuse him, but no… I did not want to get nearer to him as I did when I rode with you."

Everything she did confused Lachlan, but he wasn't about to admit that sorry truth. The woman was a puzzle, but an appealing one. "Are you sure you had no desire to have Ulf kiss you, or one of my other soldiers?" he teased, knowing the answer to that question with certainty.

She grimaced, distaste at the idea written all over her expressive features. "Of course not."

"Then how can you believe yourself to be a woman of misplaced morals?"

"It is not my morals I'm concerned with, but my urges.
It is you
," she stated with conviction. "I must stay away from you. You bring out the worst in me."

He did not agree. "I bring out the woman in you."

"I am supposed to be a lady, but you give me impure thoughts. It is wrong."

He pulled her close into his body so she could feel the evidence of his desire, the result of his own thoughts where she was concerned. "It is hot."

"Hot?" she asked, her voice squeaking with alarm.

"Very hot." He rubbed himself against her and groaned. "And now, unless you want me to act on those impure thoughts, we need to cool down."

"How can you act on my thoughts? You don't know what they are."

"Don't I?"

"Do you mean to say you have the same ones?"

That made him smile. "You are too innocent to have my thoughts."

"But you said—"

"That it is time for your swimming lesson."

"I am not taking my tunic off. It would not be decent." She couldn't believe he had suggested such a thing.

"You cannot learn to swim wearing it."

"My shift will be as good as gone if it gets wet."

"Then do not wear it in the water." He made that impudent suggestion without so much as blinking an eye.

"I can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"You are not serious."

"Explain this aversion you have to disrobing."

"I don't mind disrobing." But even saying the word made her blush. "In the privacy of my chamber,
by myself"
she stressed, "but I'm not about to do so in front of you."

"I admit doing so is not likely to have the calming effect on my sex I had wanted, but naked works best for swimming."

She knew the Highlanders looked at things differently, but this was totally outrageous. "You can't mean men and women swim naked together."

He shrugged. "Balmorals learn to swim when they are still babes. It is the way of things here."

"I am not a child."

"No. You are not."

"You said it works best to swim without your clothes." She paused, finding it difficult to utter the question that comment elicited. "Do you mean to say that you intend to take your plaid off as well?"

He gave her the devil's own grin and she knew he was enjoying her discomfort far too much. "Aye."

"You're daft! If your kisses are not bad enough, you cannot possibly expect me to do as you suggest."

"I told you
daft
is not a polite thing to call a laird."

"It is much ruder for you to demand I take my clothes off."

"I did not demand it. I suggested it."

"So I can keep them on?"

"Not if you want to avoid sinking to the bottom of the loch."

She went cold at the thought and felt her face draining of color. "This swimming thing is a bad idea. We will have to accept that I do not know how and leave it at that."

He shook his head. "You are becoming too excited over this. I am not suggesting you take your clothes off in front of my soldiers."

"Just you."

"You are going to be naked for me one way or another, Emily. You do not find my kisses bad at all… they make you hot, and merely being near enough to touch you makes me hotter than Hell in the summertime. I will try to preserve your maidenhead, but I am going to see you naked and caress you and learn your body's secrets."

Her entire body suffused with heat at his words and it wasn't embarrassment. He did make her
hot
like he said, but that didn't change anything. She could not give into him. "No."

"Yes."

"I am promised to Talorc."

"That is not something you should remind me of often. It makes the beast in me want to claim you as mine."

Did he really consider his lust a separate beast within him? Perhaps it was. She certainly felt urges that did not come from any place inside herself that she recognized. It was as if there was another Emily when she was in his company… a woman who craved things ladies were not even supposed to think about.

"Because he is your enemy?"

"Because you do not belong with him."

"You are so sure?"

"If you reacted to him the way you do to me, you would not have seen the kidnapping as a reprieve."

"I must marry him. I have no choice."

"You could stay with the Balmorals."

"You would give me sanctuary?"

"Yes."

But he said nothing about wanting to keep her for himself. In fact, as much as he wanted her, he had been careful to make no promises for the future. He was not looking for a wife, but for a woman who would slake the lust that raged like a beast inside him. She should be offended, mortified and a lot of other things her stepmother would have screeched at her, but all Emily felt was longing.

Nevertheless, she sighed and said, "I cannot stay."

"Tell me why."

So she told him about Abigail and her fear that her sister would be sent in her place.

He said nothing, but his expression turned thoughtful. "You wanted to bring your sister to live here in the Highlands."

"Yes."

"Talorc will not welcome her."

"I had hoped to change his mind."

"By calling him a goat?"

She blushed at the reminder. "I apologized."

"Did you?"

"Yes."

"What about my apology?"

"You want to apologize to me?" she asked facetiously.

His glare said he did not appreciate her humor. "You will tell me you are sorry for your insults to myself and my clan. I have waited long enough, English."

"And if I do, will you give up this idea of teaching me to swim?"

"No."

"Then I don't see why I should apologize."

"Because you were wrong."

"Perhaps…" She paused and then said, "Then again, perhaps not."

He shook his head. "Do you hope to make me angry enough to forget your lesson?"

He was far too clever for her liking. It was a ploy that had worked for her with her stepmother and father more than once. "Maybe," she admitted, "but truly… Lachlan you cannot expect me to disrobe in front of you. Not to mention the possibility of someone else coming along."

"I would hear their approach before anyone could get close enough to see you."

He really did have an exaggerated view of his strengths. "I don't think so."

"Come here, English."

"Why?" Did he plan to undress her himself? She truly must be depraved because the prospect was as thrilling as it was shocking.

"I want to kiss you."

"Oh." She had enjoyed their kisses to this point. Very much. More than she should, if she wanted to admit the truth. "But I don't think you should keep kissing me. I am promised to Talorc."

The muscle in Lachlan's jaw tensed. "This is the last time we will discuss this. I do not wish to hear of him again from your lips. Understand?"

"But, laird—"

Lachlan rudely interrupted, "The Sinclair has said before witnesses that he would not marry you."

"So?"

"Until he recants that statement, you are not betrothed to him."

"But our kings—"

"I told you, lass, we Highland lairds make our own laws. We cooperate with Scotland's king when it suits us. And only then."

"You mean you are
all
that way?"

"Aye. Even the lairds that are mere humans are still Celts. They will never submit to absolute rule by another."

"You think you are more than a mere human?" she asked, amused by his arrogance and secretly relieved at his interpretation of events.

If she did not belong to Talorc, then her honor was not compromised by the feelings Lachlan stirred in both her body and her heart.

"Come here and let me kiss you and then you may tell me your opinion of the matter."

She shivered to the depths of her being at the promise in his voice. "I think you plan to do more than kiss me."

He wanted to see her naked. He wanted to touch her. By the saints, she craved that touch more than she had hungered after acceptance in her own family.

"Perhaps… then again, perhaps not," he said, mocking her with her own words.

"And perhaps I will let you," she said with more boldness than sense.

She found true joy in his arms and a pleasure that was unimaginable. Once she left the Balmorals, she would never know either again. She decided in that moment to fully experience everything Lachlan would give her.

He had promised not to take her virginity and she would trust him to keep that promise. She was not so naive that she believed women did not engage in the sort of touching he spoke of outside the bond of matrimony. Jolenta had told Emily and Abigail stories of the goings-on at Court. Those tales had shocked and sometimes sickened her, but she did not feel in the least sick at the prospect of doing any and all of the things Jolenta had spoken of and alluded to with Lachlan.