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Authors: Amy Rose Bennett

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BOOK: The Master Of Strathburn
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She watched him quietly and waited until he met her gaze again. ‘I know I couldna even begin to understand what Culloden has cost you, Robert,’ she ventured gravely, her heart clenching for him. ‘But I want you to know tha’ I am truly abhorred by the knowledge of what Simon did to you. ‘

Her bid for reconciliation failed dismally. Robert stood abruptly, looking down at her, nothing but contempt in his eyes. She shrank back, pulling her blanket about her tightly, as if it could provide her with protection.

He raised the whisky bottle in a mock toast. ‘Here’s to you, Jessie Munroe and your betrothal to the
Honourable
Simon Grant, heir to the Earldom of Strathburn. I wish you well.’ He drank from the bottle, and then strode to the entrance of the cave. Leaning against the rock wall, he kept his back to her and stared out into the bitterly cold night.

Jessie stared at his rigid form. His derision stung more than she cared to admit. But it was undeniably her own fault that Robert viewed her with such enmity; she kept perpetuating the lie about her relationship with Simon. She suddenly couldn’t bear the idea of being associated with such a low, despicable creature any longer. Once and for all she needed to set things straight. Tell Robert the truth, no matter how ashamed she felt.

Although stiff and cold, she dropped the blanket and pushed herself to her feet. He half turned his head as she drew close. His face was in darkness. She sensed rather than saw his animosity. It fairly vibrated off him.

She dragged in a shaky breath. ‘Robert …’ To her dismay her voice shook slightly. He turned around and stared at her, his eyes like deep black hollows. She started again. ‘Robert, there’s something you should know. It’s difficult for me to talk about …’

Except for the frigid wind, lifting the lock of hair over his brow, Robert remained motionless.
Enough, Jessie.
She would not be intimidated by him again.
This must be done.

‘I’m ashamed to admit tha’ I havena been completely honest with you. I need to explain—’

Robert laughed, a short, sharp derisive bark. ‘Well, I must say that doesn’t surprise me, given the company you keep.’ He dropped the now empty whisky bottle and pushed away from the cave wall and took a step toward her. Despite the quaking in her bones, she held her ground. Snowflakes swirled in the air between them. ‘What continues to surprise me though, is that you find my brother even remotely worthy of your attention. I mean, what the hell do you see in him? Can you just explain that to me, Jessie, because I’d really like to know.’

Jessie swallowed hard, forcing herself to hold his searing gaze. ‘I … it’s no’ what you think … when you saw Simon with me yesterday—’

‘You’re lovers. Don’t deny it.’ Robert took another step closer. Jessie stepped back and felt the rough stone of the cave wall behind her. She had nowhere to go. She closed her eyes as a deep chill ran through her.
This wasn’t going well at all.

Robert was relentless. ‘So what is it about him that attracts you, Jessie? Is it his fine form, charming personality and sparkling wit?’

Jessie shook her head. ‘You dinna understand …’ Coherent thought seemed to have fled. Robert was so close now, he was almost pressed flat against her. The scent of him—pine needles, wood smoke, whisky and something that was essentially male—surrounded her. Drugged her mind. He leaned forward and placed his forearms against the cave wall behind her. Framing her. Trapping her. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

He bent low, his voice a heated rasp against her ear. ‘Or is it his wealth and promise of a title?’

‘No,’ she whispered, her own voice little more than a whimpered breath; torn between wanting Robert and wanting to push him away so she could explain. ‘No, it’s no’ like that at all.’

Robert traced a finger down the side of her cheek and along her jaw, down to her collarbone. His touch was like fire upon her skin. Her whole body trembled from head to toe and her heart slammed frantically against the wall of her chest. But whether it was from fear or anticipation, she hadn’t a clue. Robert’s mouth was so close to hers, his frosted breath mingled with hers. ‘Or is it the way he kisses you, Jessie that has you so enthralled?’

Before she could utter a sound, he clasped her jaw and claimed her in a bruising kiss. His lips were hard, demanding as they crushed against hers. Hot anger flared within her, dousing any fear.
How dare he kiss her like this. He was as despicable as Simon!

But even as Jessie tried to wrench her mouth away, hot liquid warmth coursed through her, as potent as the whisky they’d both been drinking. She futilely pushed her hands against Robert’s chest, but his lean, rock hard body crushed her hard up against the cold stone. She felt hot and cold all at once as if she was overcome with some strange fever.

Robert buried both hands in the tangle of her hair and deepened the kiss, his mouth moving urgently over hers. Never before had she experienced a kiss like this, and never before had her body responded in such an inexplicable way.

A firestorm raged inside her—fury at Robert for taking such liberties, yet deep, pulsing arousal beyond anything she’d ever known flooded through her. When his tongue traced the seam of her lips and then pushed inside, she gasped at the invasion. But she soon yielded to the intimate stroking of his tongue against hers, even tasted him in return. It was as if her body had surrendered even though her mind resisted. Gradually by degrees, she felt her ire start to dissolve into the molten heat that throbbed through her veins. Without conscious thought, and ignoring the pain in her wounded arm, she grasped the back of his neck with both hands and pulled him closer. She heard herself moan.

And then Robert pushed her away. He roughly pulled her hands from his neck and clasped them up against her chest. He was breathing raggedly, his breath a harsh sawing sound. ‘Tell me, Jessie … does he kiss you that way?’ His dark, smouldering gaze searched hers. ‘Is that what you love about him?’

She shook her head. ‘Please … I—’

‘Or does he kiss you like this?’

Again Robert took her mouth in his, but this time the kiss was slow, sinuous, teasing. A hot, satiny glide. He released her hands and cupped her face gently. His thumbs softly stroked the sensitive flesh beneath her jaw and down the sides of her neck. He broke the contact briefly to draw breath, before lowering his head once more. The tip of his tongue ran over the swell of her bottom lip before pushing into the recess of her mouth again, tasting her as if she was the most exquisite delicacy.

Jessie was melting. If Robert’s body hadn’t been pressing against hers, holding her up, she would have slipped to the ground. Her hands curled into the wool of his plaid, pulling his body closer. One of his muscular legs pushed between hers and she half stood, half straddled him. Even through the layers of her cambric petticoats, the heat of his body penetrated through to her own. When Robert pushed closer into her, his pelvis gently thrusting against her hip, she moaned again, her breasts aching, her mound throbbing. Heaven help her, she was completely overwhelmed. A warning bell clamoured somewhere at the back of her mind—this had to stop before …

With a shudder, Robert ripped his mouth away, panting hard. He pushed away from her and she felt like she had been doused with a bucket of cold loch water. ‘I won’t dare ask if there’s anything else you love about my brother.’ His tone was harsh, bitter. Then he turned abruptly and stalked off into the darkness outside.

A sound almost like a sob escaped from Jessie’s swollen lips. She touched them with shaking fingers. Yet again she’d failed to tell Robert the truth. She fought against the urge to cry. Damn her weakness. And damn Robert Grant for making her feel this way. She hoped he froze to death out there.

Too exhausted to examine the tangle of her thoughts and emotions, Jessie decided to opt for the welcome oblivion of sleep. She returned to the fire, now slowly dying, and retrieved her blanket and cloak before struggling to the bed at the back of the cave. It was icy back there away from the fire but she was beyond caring. Wrapping herself tightly in her makeshift bed covers, she sank onto the bracken and heather, and willed herself to sleep. She would have to try and reason with Robert in the morning, when he was sober.

And failing that, she’d just take the wretched man’s horse.

* * *

Robert stood outside in the swirling snow, kicking himself for his brutish treatment of Jessie. He shouldn’t have drunk so much whisky. He’d let his guard down and succumbed to his own base desires. His need to make Jessie his own, steal her from his brother, if only for a moment, had overtaken all rational thought. It was only to be expected that the lass must now think he was the worst kind of lustful beast.

What he hadn’t been expecting was Jessie’s seemingly inexperienced response to his kisses. Of course he’d anticipated angry resistance for his presumption when he’d initially forced himself on her. And she did resist—at first. But when she had yielded to him, her kisses were not those of a well-practiced lover, but rather those of a tentative novice.

He raked a hand through his snow-covered hair. Yet again he was confounded by the woman. Had he misinterpreted the seemingly passionate kiss he’d witnessed between Jessie and Simon? He closed his eyes and although it hurt, he revisited what he’d seen. There was no way to tell. In hindsight, he’d been an idiot not to stay longer to watch more of their exchange. But hand-fasted or not, he’d wager a good deal that Jessie had little to no experience when it came to lovemaking.

But then, why should he care at all about her innocence?

Because Simon has a cruel streak and he will debauch her, you know it.

Frustration that bordered on anguish twisted inside Robert, the emotion stronger now that he had tasted Jessie’s sweetness himself. He wished Simon to hell. He wished Jessie was his. Most of all, he wished he hadn’t begun to care for her.

But he did.

The snowfall continued unabated. The frigid cold had rapidly sobered Robert up and he realised he needed to return to the cave. To Jessie. Heaving a deep sigh, he wrapped his plaid tighter about himself and trudged back up the path. Jessie had disappeared from view. Her confession that she had not known of Simon’s duplicitous role in his arrest after Culloden confused him also. Her shock and then compassion seemed genuine. He wanted to trust her, but dare he?

She had offered to help him gain admittance to Lochrose, even though she would be risking her own chance to make her way to Edinburgh tomorrow. But was her offer just a ruse to lure him to Lochrose and into the path of Simon? Was she complicit in Simon’s games or innocent?

Perhaps when Tobias returned, Robert would have the answers he needed to solve the mystery that was Miss Jessie Munroe.

As he shook the snow off his hair and clothes at the cave’s entrance, he immediately noticed that Jessie had already retired to the makeshift bed. Was the lass already asleep or was she just foxing, so she wouldn’t need to speak to him? His mouth kicked into a grim smile. He wouldn’t blame her in the least if she was literally giving him the cold shoulder.

The temperature in the cave had dropped significantly so he threw a few more hunks of wood and branches onto the fire. Despite his earlier resolution to sleep on the floor of the cave away from Jessie, he decided it would be sheer folly to do so. It was freezing and they would both end up suffering from exposure if they didn’t take precautions—which meant they needed to share their body heat beneath their meagre collection of blankets and wrappings.

Squaring his shoulders, Robert steeled himself to approach Jessie. He knelt down beside her then gently touched her arm beneath the covers. ‘Jessie lass. You must wake up.’

Her eyes flew open immediately and she pushed herself up, wrapping her cloak and the blanket defensively around her shoulders. She looked exhausted and wary, her mouth a tight line, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. Tears he’d undoubtedly caused. Guilt tugged at his heart. She stared at him, waiting.

Robert swallowed, struggling to find the words to apologise and somehow repair the fragile rapport that he’d well and truly crushed. She’d never agree to his proposal otherwise. ‘Jessie … I’m so sorry for my behaviour before. It was completely inappropriate for me to … to take advantage of you in such a way. I have no excuse, but I hope you will consider accepting my sincere apology.’

Jessie looked down and brushed her wildly curling hair behind her ear. He noticed then that she was shivering slightly. He held his breath, waiting for her to speak.

‘I accept,’ she said quietly. She then raised her face and he could see her beautiful golden brown eyes glowed with a quiet, determined strength. ‘But there’s something I want you to understand. After tomorrow, you must let me go. My only wish is to go to Edinburgh, to stay with my cousin. I swear to you that I willna say a word to Simon or Lady Strathburn for that matter, about yer return. And my earlier offer, to help you see yer father again, was sincere an’ still stands. I realise tha’ you have no real reason to trust me, but I ask tha’ you do. Perhaps we can even make a deal—I will assist you to enter Lochrose undetected in exchange for my freedom to leave. What do you say?’

Robert extended his hand. ‘Agreed, Jessie Munroe.’

Jessie clasped his hand and shook. Her hand was so cold that he had the sudden urge to place it under his shirt against his chest to warm it. Instead he enveloped it with his other hand and began to gently chafe and massage her icy fingers.

She closed her eyes and sighed. ‘Why are you so warm, Robert? It doesna seem fair.’

Robert smiled, encouraged that Jessie hadn’t ordered him to bed down with his horse. But he needed to do more than hold her hand to keep her warm. How would she react to his next suggestion? He drew a fortifying breath, preparing himself for a stinging rebuke. ‘Jessie lass … it’s as cold as Hades tonight, and I fear that we will both suffer if we do not take extra measures to keep ourselves warm.’

She opened her eyes and regarded him warily. But she did not pull her hand away. ‘What are you suggesting?’

BOOK: The Master Of Strathburn
12.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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