DevilsHeart (12 page)

I’d rather you wanted me.

Rathe had heard Leah right, hadn’t he? How was there even a
question of his desire for her? He’d pursued her, talked his way between her
legs, and came back for more. What more proof did the woman want? He had been
too stunned by her admission to prevent her quick escape, but from the horror
on her face he guessed she was just as surprised by it as he was.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he ascended to the third
floor and turned down the hall toward Leah’s chamber. His two men, Brodie and
Ros, stood on either side of the door. Both grinned like idiots as he approached.

“Did she give you trouble?” Rathe attempted to glare the
smiles off their faces.

It didn’t work. They’d been friends too long for Rathe to
ever use his status as their laird to scare them into silent obedience. The
fraternal twin brothers had been the first to welcome Rathe into his father’s
clan when he was brought home at the age of sixteen. Albeit with a swift
uppercut to the jaw and a good kick to the abdomen. Rathe had deserved it
though for propositioning their older sister after a couple of pints of ale.

“Just a wee bit.” Ros chuckled.

“Is she enamored with a Graham lad or something?” Brodie
asked. “She kept begging us to take her back to Graham land.”

Rathe crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “No, she is just
a stubborn wench who thinks to escape her fate.”

He shifted his eyes between the brothers, wanting to tell
them everything. Both had been married for over ten years now and had about a
dozen kids between them. Certainly they would have some thread of wisdom they
could give him so he didn’t muck up this marriage. But now was not the time.
And the mormaer’s castle was certainly not the place. It would be too easy for
someone to overhear them.

“She will be a good one for you though,” Ros stated. “She
has some spirit.”

“Even if it did take more than a bit of coaxing to get her
to face the priest with you,” Brodie added with a snicker. “About time you met
a woman not throwing herself at your feet.”

“Still jealous about the time in Edinburgh when the two
daughters of the pub owner took me upstairs and left your sorry ass facedown in
your ale cup, eh?” Rathe taunted.

Brodie glared at him and punched his brother in the chest as
Ros started laughing.

Rathe grinned and smacked him on the shoulder as he opened
the door. “By the way, Mary and Jane told me to tell you to ‘hello’ after I saw
them last summer. Still a couple of very fine lasses.”

He slipped into Leah’s chamber and closed the door against
Brodie’s growl of annoyance. He turned in to the room and his smile fell from
his face as he met Leah’s rounded, fearful eyes peeking at him from the bed
just above the blanket she had pulled up to her chin. Firelight glinted off her
hair, giving it a warm, reddish glow.

His chest tightened. Here he was again—another wedding
night. Though, unlike with his other wives, it wasn’t his first time with Leah.
But this time seemed somehow different. More weighty. More meaningful.

At least he wasn’t dealing with an ignorant virgin. Just one
very skittish but achingly beautiful woman.

The two young servants from the previous night stood from
their stools by the fire. Each curtsied and murmured her greetings.

He approached them and stood with his back to the fire,
facing Leah. The servants stepped forward, assisting him out of his clothing.

“Have there been any other men?” he asked in Gaelic. “Here,
in your lady’s bed?”

The two young women gave each other puzzled looks and shook
their heads.

“No, Laird Sinclair,” the doe-eyed brunette replied, careful
to avert her eyes from his as she pulled his leine over his head. “We have been
with my lady every night since she arrived, sleeping by the fire, except for
last night. No other man has been here.”

Rathe nodded, satisfied. He held out his arms and the
red-haired servant ran a warm, wet cloth across his bare skin to prepare him
for his bride.

Damn it, why couldn’t she breathe?

Leah’s head spun. Firelight glowed around Rathe, giving him
an otherworldly air as he was undressed by the two women who had done the same
for her only a little while ago. He stood motionless, his eyes fixed on Leah.

She couldn’t look away. His body was still new and very much
a curiosity for her. Broad shoulders, thick, well-defined muscles down his arms
and legs. His torso narrowed to powerful, compact hips.

Leah’s lips parted and she gasped as Aisleen, the brunette,
shielded Rathe’s cock with her hand as she shimmied his breeches down his hips.
Aisleen’s cheeks pinked and she tore her hand away upon passing the waistband
down to his thighs, but that didn’t stop a cloud of annoyance from setting upon
Leah. With tensed shoulders, she glared at the back of Aisleen’s head.

Her heart contracted in a dull ache as she turned her eyes
from Aisleen to Rathe. Had he enjoyed being touched by another woman in front
of her? One corner of his mouth was turned up into a smirk, but he wasn’t
paying any attention to Aisleen. His eyes heated as Leah stared at him.

Leah shrank backward, her cheeks burning in shame. What on
earth was wrong with her? Was she really jealous another woman had touched
Rathe?

Yes. Yes, she was.

She pressed her lips together. She was a horrible, rotten
person. Aisleen had been nothing but sweet to her, despite their inability to
communicate beyond a rudimentary level. And she had obviously been embarrassed
by the whole situation as well. Not to mention the fact it wasn’t like Leah had
any real feelings toward Rathe. She was just sowing some late wild oats, right?
Even nerdy girls got to do something wild at least once in their lives.

Rathe murmured something to the women and they gathered his clothing,
folding the various pieces and placing them upon a bench near the window. He
crossed his arms, his biceps flexing against his chest and his feet apart,
without the slightest hesitation or embarrassment he was naked in front of
three women.

And partially erect. Leah’s skin heated and she tore her
eyes away, her core pulsating.

Aisleen and Morna curtsied before Rathe, both casting their
eyes to the floor without a single tilt of the head to suggest they had peeked
at him at all and then turned toward Leah, curtseying once again.

Dread twisted inside Leah’s stomach as the women left the
room. She swallowed hard, the weight of Rathe’s lustful stare settling upon her
brow. She dropped her eyes to the blanket stretched across her lap.

God help her, but she reveled in the way he looked at her—as
though she were the most desirable woman in the world. She should send him
away. She should demand he respect her wishes and leave her alone. But she
couldn’t. The fragility of her ego dulled her pride and prevented the words
from forming on her tongue.

Could she go through with this and become a
thirteenth-century warlord’s wife for the next year? And risk a potential
pregnancy? Leah wanted a family more than anything, but the man was offering
her an impossible choice. Stay with him during a violent time in history or
leave her firstborn child with him and go home. She didn’t think she was
capable of the latter and she wasn’t sure she could survive the former. And
what if she was pregnant at the time of the next fall equinox? The seriousness
with which he’d told her he needed a son was a clear indication he wouldn’t let
her go at all, if that were the case.

The mattress sank next to Leah and she almost threw the
blankets at him to jump out of bed. She took a deep, calming breath instead,
shaking her head with certainty. No, she wasn’t ready for this. She hadn’t had
enough time to think this through, to determine whether or not she could
survive here or figure out a way of managing some type of birth control. Surely,
some old midwife or herbal healer had a few tricks up her sleeve. She would
need to do some research.

Rathe whispered her name and it fell like a caress against
her cheek as he tugged the blanket out of her grasp. She did bolt then, but he
threw his forearm around her waist, hauling her up against his chest and
trapping his hardening cock between him and her backside.

“Uh-uh, lass.”

She whimpered, attempting in vain to push his arm away from
her. “Rathe, please. This isn’t fair.”

“A lot of things are not fair, wife,” he murmured against
her hair.

She gulped, alarmed by the quickening of her pulse and her
body’s need to melt back into his heat at his use of that one word—
wife
.
“You are asking the unthinkable of me.”

He laughed, trailing the back of his fingers down her arm.
“You have spread your legs for me already and will again. It is not so
unthinkable.”

She shook her head, her brow aching with frustration. “You
are asking me to choose between home and a child.”

Rathe sighed. “You are thinking too much again. This child
does not yet exist and you are already worrying.”

“But you expect me to leave it with you, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

The tension in Leah’s muscles reached a breaking point and
it was all she could do to slump back against him, her spirit crushed. “You
don’t know anything about me then.”

He held her in silence, his breath rippling against her
cheek. His stonelike thighs cradled her own, supporting her as his arm held her
up, preventing her from crumpling in a mess of disconcerting emotions.

When he did move, it was to smooth his rough, calloused hand
down her thigh. Soft and unhurried, the simple touch eased the ache in her
heart.

He slid his fingers to her tender inner thigh. “Is it to be
a chase again, lass? Or do I have your permission to take you now?”

Nipples puckering, she bit back a moan, her core moistening.
He pulled her hair away from her neck and dropped his lips to her shoulder
before slipping his hand deeper between her thighs. Her vision turned hazy and
her head fell back onto his shoulder, her breaths quickening as his fingertips
brushed against her folds.

“Might I remind you I have come inside you already?” He
nipped her ear with his teeth. “I have already claimed you. You could be
carrying my bairn as we speak.”

Those words. Those frightening, life-changing words. They
delighted her far too much for her own good. What the hell was wrong with her?
Shouldn’t she have more self-control than this? Shouldn’t the thought of giving
birth to this stranger’s child be enough to tell him no in no uncertain terms?

But then her thighs parted. Just a little. And it was all
the invitation he needed.

“Mmm, yes, my little doe.” He soothed the edge of her ear
with his tongue as he slipped two fingers inside her.

A moan wrenched out of her throat as her moisture slickened
his hand. She reached back, threading her fingers through his hair and pressing
his lips against her shoulder as she rocked her hips in rhythm with his
fingers.

He dragged his lips to her neck, his breath searing across
her shoulder. He bit her neck, sending an aching swirl of dark, heady lust
pulsing through her core. Damn it, she liked that too. The biting, the
roughness. She quivered, skin tingling, nipples hard and achy.

“Yes, lass,” he whispered, pumping his fingers in and out of
her in a slow, deliberate motion. “You are ready for me. Let me fuck you.”

Oh God, this was all sorts of wrong.

Her anxiety clawed through the dizzying fog of desire. How
could she be attracted to a man rumored to be as good at killing as he was
fucking? How many men had these strong, massive hands bringing her so much
pleasure killed? He hadn’t even looked like himself when he fought the
MacTavish. More like an inhuman, bloodthirsty warlord. How could she melt into
a hot puddle of desire, coming on these very fingers that had probably also
thrust a sword through the heart of another human being?

He grazed his tongue down her neck, stopping to lick and
suck at her overheated skin, and her frantic thoughts faded. His fingers slid
out of her and up to her clit in one smooth motion. She bit her lower lip and
reached back, grabbing his thighs for support as excruciating waves of pleasure
rippled through her pussy. Her heart thundered, her breathing choppy. She dug
her fingernails into his skin as her thighs tensed.

And then he stopped.

Her eyes flew open and she shuddered, rocking her hips
against his suspended hand.

“Let me fuck you,” he drawled, tapping her clit.

She sucked in a breath and whimpered as the tension in her
legs snapped. She collapsed against him. Her pussy pulsated, moisture seeping
onto her thighs.

Rathe nipped her neck just as he set his fingers to work
once again. She groaned his name, parting her legs, the wondrous tension
winding again in her clit.

He stopped again.

“Rathe!”

“You want to come?”

She nodded.

“I get to fuck you. You get to come. It is as simple as
that, Leah,” he rasped into her ear.

She pressed her lips together, trying to force the words
onto her tongue. He drummed against her clit, twisting a primal moan from her
throat, and then smoothed over the sensitive nub in lazy circles. Her core
clenched hard and opened wide in a steady, excruciating rhythm. She arched her
back. He tilted his hips, rubbing his hard shaft against her ass.

Then his fingers stilled and she was held dangling over the
precipice of a climax just out of reach. She rocked her hips against him. His
cock was so close. All she needed was to say the word and he would fill her.
Pound into her until she came.

She wanted him now. Inside her, pumping and groaning out his
own pleasure. She was not going to refuse him—not now and maybe not ever.
“Please, Rathe. Inside me. Now.”