Authors: Devil in a Kilt
In
all fairness, he
had
sought to appease her.
Regret
at her harsh words ate at her from within as she watched him test the bathwater
once more, his smile of only moments before gone, in its place a grim expression
that revealed nothing.
"I
told Fergus to have Cook add a few drops of rose oil. I trust that is to your
liking?"
"Thank
you, milord," Linnet said. "I favor roses."
A
bit of the anger faded from Duncan's face, replaced by a look Linnet couldn't
quite identify. "Have you forgotten I'd asked you to use my name?"
"Thank
you, Duncan . .. sir," she said, sorely tempted to dive back into the bed
and pull the bedcurtains to shield herself from the displeasure she could see
thrumming through him.
"Duncan.
Just Duncan," he said, his voice solemn. Coming to her side, he gently
lifted a handful of her hair. "I am not an ogre, lady."
Letting
the strands slip from his fingers, he cupped her chin. "I offended you
last night, and I hereby ask you to accept my humblest apology."
Linnet
gazed into his deep blue eyes, no longer dark and stormy, but now almost the
same shade they'd been as he'd whispered tender endearments to her in the
night.
The
vivid memory of all he'd said, and done, in the heat of his passion, sent a
whirlwind of conflicting emotions swirling through her.
Could
he truly be sorry he'd hurt her feelings?
Mayhap,
but she still doubted he cared for her.
At
least not in the way she wanted him to care.
She
swallowed, for her throat had suddenly gone dry as cold ash. Let the angels
have mercy on her, she wanted him to love her.
Truly
love her.
With
all his heart.
Not
merely desire her as a convenient vessel for his masculine needs.
But
was he capable of such emotions? And could he accept her feelings for him as
well?
Or
must she learn to be content with the bits and pieces of tenderness he'd surely
grant her whilst in his arms?
Would
such be enough?
Linnet
smothered a sigh. It'd never be enough. She wanted more, so very much more.
"Well?"
he prodded, yanking her from her dreams, back into the ice-cold present. When
she didn't answer immediately, he quirked a brow at her. "Will you accept
my apology? Will you have me as I am?"
She
hesitated for a moment. "Aye," she consented.
Duncan
smiled hopefully, then brought her hand to his lips for a kiss. "You will not
regret this, I promise. Tonight, I shall love you until you are fair limp from
passion and beg me to cease."
Still
clutching her hand in his, he added, "If it takes till first light, I
shall repay you for the injury I caused last night."
Linnet
stiffened at his lightly spoken words. "‘Tis not payment I wish. What I
want canna be bought with coin nor replaced by physical, ah, ...
fulfillment."
A
shadow passed over Duncan's face, and he seemed to withdraw from her even
though he still held her hand. "Dinna wax sentimental on me, lady. I swear
on all that's holy, I will cherish and honor you all our days as man and wife.
Pray let that satisfy you. Romantic love, as I believe you covet, does not
exist."
Letting
go of her hand, he knelt to rebuild the fire. Over his shoulder, he continued,
"You must accept me as I am. If you cannot, tell me true and I shall hie
myself from this chamber and ne'er cross the threshold again."
His
task done, he got to his feet. "It is not my wish to cause you pain. I ask
you again, will my affection be enough for you?"
Resigning
herself to the only option she had, Linnet nodded.
He
rewarded her lie with one of his beatific smiles.
The
rare kind she'd so seldom seen grace his lips.
It
warmed her heart and sent a fluttery sensation straight to her belly despite
the chill emptiness of what he was asking of her.
Looking
pleased at her apparent acquiescence, he offered her his hand. "Then come,
I will help you undress."
The
moment she placed her hand in his, his smile turned wicked, stealing her
breath. "Mayhap I shall help you bathe as well," he suggested,
massaging her palm with his thumb.
And
each round of his circling thumb stirred the cauldron of resistance bubbling
deep inside her.
It
would appear he believed he need only gift her with a smile and a spot of
tenderness and she'd crumple to his feet, eager to do his bidding.
"Your
bath awaits you, my lady," he said with a meaningful glance at the wooden
tub. "Do we not want to discard your clothes before yon water grows
cold?"
‘Tis
I who have grown cold, milord seduce-me-not.
Linnet kept the sharp retort
to herself. In truth, she wasn't sure she
could
resist him. Already his
deft fingers had maneuvered her out of her gown! But when he sought to remove
her only remaining garment, her thin chemise, the words of protest poised on
her tongue could no longer be contained.
"Is
this some new form of crude entertainment, sirrah? Stripping me naked and
watching me bathe?" She curled her fingers around his wrists in a vain
attempt to dislodge his hands from her undergown. "Did I not make clear
last night that I prefer to be unobserved whilst making my ablutions?"
"God's
wounds!" As quickly as the sharply spoken oath left her husband's lips, so
did he break free of her grasp and have done with her chemise. Indeed, he
divested her of its scant protection with such speed, she scarce noticed he'd
drawn it over her head until she stood naked before him.
And
as every time she'd done so before, it was a glorious feeling. Heady, potent,
and much more powerful than the streak of rebellion that still glowed hot with
fervor somewhere deep inside her.
Then
he put his hands on her shoulders and began a slow and tender exploration of
her body. Barely touching her, he smoothed his hands down her sides and up again,
brought them around behind her and traced the length of her back, then cupped
and felt along the curves of her lower buttocks. With the lightest of barely
there strokes, he slipped his hands between her thighs and caressed her there
as well.
The
mastery of his touch made her womanhood throb with a pulsing need, and her
heart forget every shred of resistance she'd meant to display.
Unable
to resist, she gave herself up to the sensations he stirred in her. As if he
sensed the exact moment of her capitulation, he pulled her close and, gladly,
she slid her arms around him in return.
‘Twas
bliss beyond words simply being held in his embrace, close to his heart.
A
heart she was determined to win.
Despite
her pretense of accepting a life together on his loveless terms.
"Saints,
but you tempt me," he murmured into her hair as he gathered her into his
arms, lifting her off her feet. Gently, he lowered her into the silky warm
waters of the bath. "Ne'er in my life have I desired a woman more."
Without
taking his eyes off her, he lowered himself to his knees beside the tub.
Tenderly holding her face between his hands, he leaned forward and softly
brushed his lips back and forth over hers.
Lulled
into contentment by the sheer magic of his kisses and the soothing warmth of
her bath, Linnet felt herself melting, her limbs turning as liquid as the
scented water. She sighed, and her breath mingled with his ... a heady
sensation that made her woman's flesh pulse with an intensely pleasurable
feeling of warmth. Parting her lips, she begged him without words to deepen the
kiss.
Duncan
obliged, crushing her mouth beneath his, his lips and tongue taking heated
possession of hers. When he let his hands glide down over her shoulders to
caress her breasts, she could do naught but give in to the feverish desires
building inside her.
A
tiny voice deep inside scolded her for being a wanton fool. A brazen piece
willing to barter her pride for a man's sensual touch, for the feel of his lips
melding with hers, his hands moving so exquisitely over her breasts, and the
earth-shattering release she'd found with him last night.
A
shiver, unpleasant this time, rippled down her spine. In truth, she'd sunk
lower than the cheapest whore.
Abandoned
her morals for the thrill of a few moments in the arms of a man who'd boldly
stated he'd never love her.
"Duncan,
wait," she pleaded the moment he broke their kiss to feather lighter ones
down the curve of her neck. "Please, I cannot do this after all."
"Shhh,"
he urged,
"of course
you can. Hush, dinna speak." He placed
two fingers over her lips, silencing her. "Just
feel
. Let me
pleasure you, show you how much I desire you, love you until you are weak from
our joining and beg for mercy."
"But
you do not—"
"I
told you, we will not speak of love," he said, as if he'd read her
thoughts. Pushing suddenly to his feet, he yanked his tunic over his head,
tossed it aside, then bent to remove his shoes.
"Dinna
do this," she begged again. She tried in vain to tear her gaze from his
bared chest, even as the sight of its hard contours made her heart hammer
wildly. "It is not right," she gasped, her voice a ragged whisper.
"You do not love me."
"Hush,
sweeting," Duncan protested, rolling his braies down his well-muscled legs
as he spoke. He kicked them out of the way and stood facing her, hands braced
on his hips, his arousal unmistakable. "I desire and ache with longing for
you."
Linnet's
heart turned over at his words, her pride screaming at her to look away or at
least close her eyes, but she couldn't.
The
hot throbbing deep inside her feminine core refused to be denied. That
traitorous part of her begged, nay,
demanded,
she forsake all misgivings
and surrender herself to the unbearably sweet pleasures she knew he could give
her.
As
if he sensed her yielding, a slow, seductive smile stole over his lips, and he
reached for her hand. A strange sound, a raw and utterly primitive moan,
escaped Linnet's throat when his strong, warm fingers closed over hers.
Not
taking his eyes off hers, he brought her hand to rest against the flat plane of
his abdomen. He held her hand there, her fingers splayed over his hot skin for
an excruciatingly long moment.
Then
he began edging her hand downward.
Her
blood raced, every nerve ignited, on fire, as he skimmed her hand lightly back
and forth over the thick mat of dark hair at his groin.
With
a deep groan feral enough to have been made by a wild beast and not a
flesh-and-blood man, Duncan moved her hand to his maleness, closing her fingers
tightly around the hot, pulsing shaft.
The feel
of him, all searing heat and proud, rigid as steel yet satiny-smooth to the
touch, sent a bolt of excitement shooting through her, stealing her breath and
making her forget her cares.
Forget
her objections to this ... this loveless mating of their bodies.
Forget
her pride.
She
sighed, her fingers moving around the length of him. The man must be
part-wizard, for surely it was not a small feat to whisk away her doubts and
send her spiraling into a sea of such reckless longing she might soon perish
from the sheer glory of it?
Indeed,
her husband's caress, his kiss, touching him, even one glance from him was a
more powerful mixture than the most potent mead.
More
intoxicating than the sweetest of wines.
As
if she had the same effect on him, his eyes darkened, fair smoldering with
passion. Whispering soft words of encouragement, he carefully unclasped her
fingers, then leaned down and placed her hands about his neck.
Linnet
clung to him as he slipped his arms around her back and under her knees and
lifted her from the tub. Water ran in rivulets down her limbs and the brisk sea
wind coming through the opened windows brought gooseflesh to her skin, but she
didn't care... she was oblivious to all but the wondrous feel of being held in
her husband's powerful arms.
He'd
carried her but a scant three paces across the room when he stopped to claim
her lips in a fiercely demanding kiss. Linnet melted against him, digging her
hands into his hair, helpless to do aught but surrender to the wild fury of her
own undeniable need.
Then,
at the very moment she was certain something would shatter and spill deep
inside her, a loud rap on the closed door broke through the haze of their
ardor.
"Damnation!"
Duncan cursed, sending a furious glance toward the door.
Still
clinging to him, Linnet buried her face against his neck and bit her lower lip
to hold back the deep sigh of pleasure she'd been about to give forth.
"Hush,"
Duncan whispered into her damp hair.