In Bed with a Highlander (22 page)

Ewan let out a deep breath and pulled her away from his body, his gaze reproachful. “Lass, when are you going to demonstrate some restraint? You’re going to upset your wound again, throwing yourself around like that.”

She smiled at his stern face and then leaned up and palmed his face between her hands. Then she pulled him down into a breathless kiss that had her panting and gasping for air within seconds.

She wasn’t sure who was more affected. She or he. His eyes glowed, and his nostrils flared as she rocked back onto her feet.

“I’m really quite well, Ewan,” she whispered. “Mother Serenity used to avow that God’s hand was ever guiding me because no matter how hard I fell or how badly I hurt myself, I always bounced back with amazing speed. My side pains me, aye, but not overly much. ’Tis more of a nuisance than a true pain. There’s no reason for me to stay in bed the entire day.”

“Remove your dress, Mairin. I’d like to see for myself how you’re healing.”

With a disgruntled sigh, she loosened the strings of her bodice and carefully peeled away the material. From the corner of her eye, she saw Ewan’s expression grow tight as he stared at her bare shoulders.

Fascinated by his intense regard, she took a little more time than necessary to ease the dress down her body. Her hair fell down her back and forward over her breasts. Just the nipples peeked through the strands, and Ewan’s gaze was fixed on them.

“Shall I lie down?” she asked softly.

Ewan cleared his throat. “Aye. That’s fine. Make yourself comfortable. This won’t take but a minute.”

She eased down on the bed but watched Ewan from underneath her lashes. While he was thorough in changing the dressing on her wound, his heated gaze dragged over the rest of her body, so tangible that it was like the brush of his hand over her skin.

She stirred restlessly as he finished tying the strip of cloth around her side. The action thrust her breasts forward, brushing against his arm. Her nipples immediately puckered, the rasp of hair over the sensitive tips sending a warm flood of pleasure deep into her body.

“Lass, ’tis not the time for loving,” he whispered. “But you tempt me. Aye, you tempt me like no other.”

She circled his neck with her arms and they stared at each other for a long, silent moment. His eyes were beautiful and they reminded her of the highland hills in the spring. So green and alive with life.

He lowered his mouth to hers, gently at first, just a simple pressing of mouths together. A gentle smooching sound, flesh meeting flesh. He kissed the corner of her mouth then returned to the middle and then over to catch the other corner.

“You taste of sunshine.”

Her chest tightened, and pleasure at the sweet words filled her to bursting.

She could feel him between her legs, hard and pulsing. He strained at his trews, pushing impatiently. She wanted him. Aye, she wanted him badly.

“Ewan,” she whispered. “Are you sure ’tis not the time for loving?”

He groaned low in his throat. “Aye, you’re a temptress all right.”

She lifted her body to fit it to his, unsure of what she was doing, but it felt right. She was hot and flushed and she needed something she was sure only he could give her.

“Kiss me,” she murmured.

“Oh, aye, I’ll kiss you, lass. I’ll kiss you until you beg me to stop.”

His lips closed around one taut nipple and pulled as he sucked it farther into his mouth. His hands stroked her body and she arched like a contented cat seeking more of its master’s touch.

“Easy, lass,” he murmured. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Hurt herself? She was going to hurt
him
if he didn’t continue kissing her.

He slipped his hands between her thighs and thumbed through the tight curls guarding her sensitive flesh. He brushed over the quivering point even as his fingers sought her moist opening. Despite his warning, she arched helplessly, unable to control her frantic response.

Fire stoked deep within her body and fanned rapidly through her groin, tightening each time his fingers stroked inside. This wasn’t how it was done, was it?

She didn’t care. Whatever he was doing felt so wondrous that she wanted to beg him never to stop. And she did. Over and over, the words spilling out between fractured sobs.

He sucked at each breast, alternating as he drove her
mindless with his fingers. She was hot and slick around him and she was fast building to an explosive end.

She whimpered and gripped his shoulders as she raised her hips, wanting more. He added a second finger to her sheath at the precise moment his thumb exerted more pressure.

She would have screamed—she did scream—but he raised his mouth from her breast to capture her mouth just as she did and swallowed the savage cry as she came apart in his arms.

Forgotten was her wound, the bandage, any pain or discomfort. There was only wave after wave of intense pleasure until she sagged onto the bed, too limp and weak to do anything more than gasp for air.

He rolled to the side and carefully pulled her into his arms. His lips brushed over her hair and he stroked the tresses with one hand. He caressed and petted every inch of her skin until a wonderful haze surrounded her and enfolded her in its warm glow.

“Sleep, lass,” he murmured. “You need your rest.”

Too fuzzy and sated to argue, she closed her eyes before she even realized she’d done so. Her last coherent thought was that he was far superior to ale as a sleeping drought.

Mairin let out a lusty yawn and stretched her arms over her head. She was so limber from her bout of loving with Ewan that her side didn’t even pain her.

Then she realized that despite her determination to be out and about, she’d spent half the day in her chamber. With a frown, she rose, grumbling under her breath about husbands and trickery.

He’d done it apurpose, she was convinced of it. He’d taken her to their chamber on the pretext of tending her wound and then distracted her with loving. And to think she’d ever thought he wasn’t skilled in such matters.

He was too skilled by far.

This time when she left her chamber, Gannon met her directly outside her door. She looked at him in astonishment as he picked himself up off the floor.

“Have you been outside my door all afternoon?”

“Aye, my lady. ’Tis my duty to see to your safety. You have a habit of disappearing, so Cormac and I drew straws to see who would safeguard the chamber door.”

She frowned, not liking the idea that she was such a distasteful duty that they were forced to draw straws over the unpleasant task.

She headed toward the stairs, determined to see Maddie
without any interference from her husband or her watch guards.

Cormac was in the hall sharing a tankard of ale with a few of the older men of the clan.

“Have you seen Crispen about?” she called to Cormac.

“Nay, my lady. Last I knew of him, he was out playing with the other children. Would you like me to fetch him?”

“Oh nay, let him play. I have no need of him at the moment.”

Cormac rose and started in Mairin and Gannon’s direction, but she held up her hand. “I am only going to see Maddie. Gannon can escort me. Can’t you, Gannon?”

“Aye, my lady. If ’tis all you’re planning.”

“Of course. ’Tis getting on into the afternoon. ’Twill be dark soon enough.”

Gannon relaxed. He nodded in Cormac’s direction and then gestured for Mairin to precede him from the hall.

Mairin set out at a brisk pace, determined for anyone who saw her to think she was fully recovered from her accident. By the time she reached Maddie’s cottage, she was winded and she leaned against the door for support as she sucked in air.

After recovering her breath, she knocked politely on the door and waited. She frowned when no response was forthcoming.

“Maddie isn’t in her cottage, my lady,” one of the women sang out from one cottage down. “She’s helping Gertie in the kitchens.”

“Thank you,” Mairin called.

“Would you like to go to the kitchens?” Gannon asked politely.

The thought of encountering Gertie was enough to persuade Mairin she could wait to speak to Maddie. It wasn’t as if she could do much of anything today anyway.

She turned in the direction of the keep and came to a
stop and stared at the ruckus right in the middle of the path that split the cottages. Two older men were carrying on quite a spirited conversation, complete with shaking fists and fiercely worded threats.

“What on earth are they arguing about, Gannon?”

“Oh ’tis nothing you need to worry over, my lady,” Gannon said. “ ’Tis only Arthur and Magnus.”

He tried to steer her down the path, but she remained rooted to her spot as the men’s voices grew louder.

“Quit yer shouting you old goats!”

Mairin blinked in surprise at the woman leaning out her window hollering at the two men. Arthur and Magnus paid her no mind and continued their argument. It quickly became clear to Mairin that the dispute centered around the mare that stood between the two men, looking quite unimpressed with the goings-on.

“Who does the mare belong to?” Mairin whispered. “And why do they argue so fiercely over it?”

Gannon sighed. “ ’Tis an old argument, my lady. And they do enjoy a good argument. If it wasn’t the mare, it would be something else.”

One of the men turned and started to stomp down the path, shouting all the way that he was going straight to the laird.

Thinking quickly, Mairin stepped in his way and he pulled up just short of running right over her.

“Watch where you’re going, lass! Now step aside, if you please. I have business with the laird.”

“You’ll be respectful and mind your tongue, Arthur,” Gannon growled. “ ’Tis your mistress you address.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes and then cocked his head to the side. “Aye, so it is. Shouldn’t you be abed after your mishap?”

Mairin heaved a sigh. The news was all over the keep, no doubt. She had no desire to appear weak when she assumed her duties as mistress. She was already mentally
calculating all that needed to be done. With or without Maddie’s aid, it was time she stepped into the running of the keep.

“Step aside,” Magnus declared. “You have the manners of a jackass, Arthur.”

He smiled at Mairin then and offered a sweeping bow. “We haven’t been properly introduced. My name’s Magnus McCabe.”

Mairin returned his smile and was sure to include Arthur, lest he use that as an excuse to start another argument.

“I couldn’t help but overhear you arguing over the mare,” she began hesitantly.

Arthur snorted. “That’s because Magnus has a mouth the size of a mountain.”

Mairin held up a hand. “Rather than trouble your laird over such an inconsequential matter, perhaps I can be of help.”

Magnus rubbed his hands together and cast a triumphant glance in Athur’s direction. “There, you see? The lass will determine who has the right of it.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and didn’t look impressed with Mairin’s offer.

“There is no right or wrong of it,” Arthur said matter-of-factly. “The mare is mine. Always has been. Gannon knows.”

Gannon closed his eyes and shook his head.

“I see,” Mairin said. Then she looked at Magnus. “You dispute Arthur’s claim to the mare?”

“I do,” he said emphatically. “Two months past, he became enraged because the mare bit him on the—”

“There is no need to say where she bit me,” Arthur hastily broke in. “ ’Tis sufficient to say she bit me. That’s all that’s important.”

Magnus leaned in and whispered. “She bit him on the arse, my lady.”

Her eyes went wide. Gannon issued a sharp reprimand to Magnus for speaking to his mistress in such an indelicate fashion, but Magnus didn’t look the least repentant.

“Anyway, once the mare bit Arthur, he became so enraged that he turned her loose, slapped her on the flanks, and told the ungrateful …” He stopped and cleared his throat. “Well, he told her not to bother ever returning. It was cold out and raining, you see. I took the mare in, dried her, and gave her some oats. So you see, the mare belongs to me. Arthur relinquished all claim to her.”

“My lady, the laird has already heard their complaint,” Gannon whispered to her.

“And what did the laird decide?” she whispered back.

“He told them to work it out between themselves.”

Mairin made a sound of exasperation. “That wasn’t particularly helpful.”

This would be as good a starting point as any to assert her authority and show her clan that she was a worthy mate to their laird. Ewan was a busy man, and matters such as this should be settled without pulling him into a petty argument.

She turned back to the men, who’d begun bickering again. She held up her hands for silence, and when that didn’t work, she put her fingers between her lips and issued a sharp whistle.

Both men flinched and turned to stare at her in astonishment.

“A lady doesn’t whistle,” Arthur reprimanded.

“Aye, he’s right, my lady.”

“Oh, so now the two of you are prepared to agree on something,” Mairin muttered. “It was the only way to quiet you.”