Capturing A Highland Knight (17 page)

             
Derek waited until Annabelle’s breath was even before he reached over and pulled her into his arms.  She shifted but did not waken.  Her soft even breath on his chest was oddly comforting.  He rested his chin in her hair and drifted to sleep.

Chapter 19

              Derek woke up a little before dawn in need of Annabelle.  It was not just lust, but something that went far beyond that.  It shocked him at the intensity of that need.  He had gotten up in the night to stoke the fire because he had felt Annabelle shivering in his arms.  When he had gotten back into bed, he had pulled her back in his arms where she belonged.

             
She had not moved during the night except to snake her arm over his chest and her thigh over his.  He could feel the heat from her thigh against his groin, and it stirred it to life.  Her breaths were still soft against his chest and her hair lay across her face.  He reached up and smoothed it away.  He caught his breath at how beautiful she was in sleep.  Her lips were slightly parted and her full long lashes rested against her smooth cheek.  He had never noticed how long and thick her rust colored lashes were until that moment.  He was usually too captivated by her expressive sea green eyes.

             
Her nightdress had ridden up to her waist exposing the smooth skin of her leg and a soft buttock.  Derek reached down and ran his hand along her thigh until he could mold his hand to her rear. She gave a deep contented sigh in her sleep.  The warmth of her soft breath against his chest stirred his blood.  He realized that his yearning was much more than physical, but it was a need to have all of her.  He had never felt that before, not even with the most beautiful woman he had ever dealt with, and it was so intense that it shocked him.

             
He ran his knuckles over her soft cheek, and then let his fingers glide over the skin of her throat.  She sighed again.  He smiled and looked at the dying fire in the fireplace.  He did not know how to define this feeling he had and was reluctant to try, but he knew that Annabelle had become more than just another woman to him.  His smile faded as he remembered his past actions towards her.  No woman had ever provoked him to such a degree of irritation.  Not even Eilidh, and she had the temper to match a raging storm.

             
Annabelle shifted again in her sleep, as if she were to move away.  Derek wrapped his arms tighter around her to keep her in place.  Somehow, he knew he would feel bereft if she moved.  She settled back against him.  He wanted this woman.  He wanted her more than anything he had ever desired in his life.  And he vowed to never let her go, even if she should learn the truth of what happened to her.  He knew she would be furious if she found out that he had known all along.  He shifted to look at her face again.  Her full lips were closed now.  He reached up and ran his finger across them, feeling her even breaths on its tip as it parted her lips.

             
His eyes strayed toward the embers of the fire again.  Jace and Aster had suggested that they use Annabelle as bait to ferret out the culprit, and he had been inclined to agree that it could work.  Whoever killed Laird Harold assumed that Annabelle was also dead.  If they were as desperate as they seem to be to have murdered the McInnis clan, they would not hesitate to come after Annabelle to be sure that they remained in power. 

             
Annabelle moved against him.  Her thigh brushed against his awakening manhood.  He realized then that he would not be able to allow her to be used as bait no matter how good the idea had been.  They would just have to devise another plan.  His chest constricted at the thought of her in harm’s way.

             
Derek gently moved Annabelle’s leg and then pushed her back onto the mattress.  He rose over her and just looked at her face.  She was a beautiful woman, more so than he originally thought when he had found her.  The color of her hair brought out the creaminess of her skin.  His eyes roamed down the column of her neck back up to the plumpness of her mouth.  He remembered the taste of her lips.  He leaned down and brushed his lips softly against hers.  And realized he could not just stop at a mere brush of lips because he loved the taste of her.  The taste of Annabelle.  He wanted to delve into her mouth and drink deeply of her essence, but she had not stirred when he kissed her.  He smiled to himself.  He would just have to wake her up.

             
Annabelle stirred restlessly.  The dream she was having seemed so real, felt so real.  She could feel Derek’s mouth on her skin, and it ignited a flame where it touched.  She should not be responding to his touch like this because he wanted a docile wife, but this was only a dream and it felt so good.  She would have to remind herself when they did make love to remain still and submissive.  She did not want to offend him again.

             
Derek’s hand was moving slowly up her leg.  His touch was feather light and it sent sensations to the core of her being.  She shifted in her sleep, wanting him to touch her everywhere.  She remembered how sweet and intoxicating his kiss was and wanted him to take her mouth.  She willed him to take her mouth, after all, it was her dream and she could have what she wanted.  She heard herself moan, but she was not sure if she had done it out loud or only in her dream.  Derek’s hand finally reached the juncture of her thighs.  Her breath quickened in anticipation, but his touch never came.  Instead, Derek began feathering little kisses on her face.  First he kissed her forehead, then both of her cheeks.  Next he kissed the tip of her nose.  There was a slight hesitation and then he gently kissed her fading bruise.  Her breath hissed at the tenderness of that kiss.  She was shocked to feel tears prick her eyes.  He would never do that in her waking hours, only in her dreams.

             
Annabelle willed her tears back because, even in her dreams, she did not want Derek to see any weakness in her.  Derek kissed her on her neck, behind her ears, and along her jawline.  Finally, his lips consumed hers and he drank deeply.  Annabelle responded to the demand in his kiss.   She opened willingly to the onslaught and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.  She could feel the play of his muscles as he moved on top of her.  Her hands slid down his back and over his buttocks.  He moaned against her mouth, but did not break the contact.  His hands once again slid down her body to her center.  This time he did touch her.  She gasped from the pleasure.  He ran his finger through her curls, dipping the tip into her opening and then retreating.  She wiggled in frustration.  She thought she heard him chuckle, but then he pushed his finger into her opening and she could not think anymore, only feel.  His thumb rubbed the nub at the apex of her opening.  She gasped and pressed into his thumb.  He increased the rhythm and pressure, and she shattered on a scream.

             
Annabelle’s eyes flew open and fixed on Derek’s face.  Her breath hitched as she realized that what she had just experienced had been no dream.  Derek’s grey eyes were clouded with passion as he looked down into her face.

             
“Ah, ye are awake,” he grinned, and then he swooped down and took her mouth.

             
The touch of Derek’s lips shook Annabelle out of her shock.  They were hot and demanding.  She almost succumbed to their command, until she remembered that she vowed to be a docile wife to him.  She willed herself to lie still beneath his onslaught.  She pressed her lips together so that he would not gain access.  She knew that if he did, then her resolve would melt.  His mouth left hers and trailed kisses over her cheeks and her jaw.  Then they went further down her neck to the space between her breasts.  It took every ounce of will Annabelle possessed to stay immobile.

             
Derek stopped and looked up at Annabelle.  Her eyes were closed and her lips were pressed tightly together.  This was not the same response he received when she was asleep.  He wondered if she thought he was someone else in her sleep, and upon waking, realized who it really was and was disappointed.  He scowled at her, even though her eyes remained closed.  Did she dream of Colm?  Had her earlier response been for him?  Did she imagine Colm’s hands and mouth on her?

             
Derek’s jaw tightened.  He stared at his wife.  She still lay perfectly still.  The only sign that she was alive was the rapid flutter at her neck and rise and fall of her breasts.

             
Annabelle waited for Derek to continue touching her.  She was still struggling not to move under his ministrations, and she knew that she was close to losing the battle.  She suddenly became aware that Derek was no longer touching her.  She took a deep breath and opened her eyes.  Derek was sitting back on his legs staring at her.  There was a frown on his face.  What had she done?  What had happened?  Why did he stop?

             
“Derek,” she murmured, not sure what to else to say to him. 

             
Derek was suddenly above her, his face mere inches from hers.  He stared into her eyes.  She was not sure what he saw there, but his jaw tightened then released.  She reached up and gently touched his cheek.  She knew that she wanted him to make love to her, and she also knew that she could never be a docile wife in this aspect of their marriage.  Derek could set her body aflame with just a look.

             
“Derek,” she said again, drawing his head down for a kiss.

             
He was hesitant at first, but then he took over the kiss, devouring her mouth.  She reveled in the onslaught.  He brought her to a frenzy with just his lips.  She let her hands roam all over his body, feeling the movement of his muscles beneath his skin.  She did not want to be docile anymore.  In this, she would give in. 

             
Derek broke the kiss and stared down at her.

             
“Is it me ye respond to, Annabelle?” he asked her roughly.

             
Her brow creased in confusion.  Why would he ask that?

             
“Aye,” she breathed, willing him to continue where he left off.

             
“Be sure ye ken it is Derek ye lay with tonight,” he said before taking one of her nipples into his mouth.

             
What did he mean by that?  But she had no time to ponder it, because he was now assaulting her other breast and she could not think at all.  Derek’s kiss trailed down between her breasts to her flat stomach.  He thrust his tongue into her navel and she almost jumped from the bed from the sheer pleasure that shot straight to her center.  

             
“I must join with ye now, Annabelle,” Derek said as he positioned himself to enter her.  She almost wept in anticipation.

             
Derek thrust deep to the center of her.  She thought he had surely touched her heart.  He let go of a breath and began to move in and out in a strong, yet slow thrust.  Annabelle met each thrust with her own fervor.  His pace quickened and Annabelle felt herself on the precipice, ready to go over the edge.  His breath against her neck was hot and fast.

             
“Annabelle,” he growled into her ear.

             
At her name on his lips, she shattered.  She felt as if she had exploded into a thousand pieces.  Not long after, Derek gave a shout and she felt his warm seed enter her womb.  He collapsed on top of her.  He was heavy, but Annabelle loved the feel of him surrounding her.  She wrapped her arms around his waist and held him close.

             
Derek stirred and moved beside Annabelle.  She felt bereft of his heat and the security of him surrounding her.

             
“Get some sleep, Annabelle.  Tobias’ wedding will begin shortly after the morning meal,” he said, pulling her into the circle of his arms.

             
Annabelle burrowed into his warmth and closed her eyes.  She wondered if she should respond docily. She sighed and decided she could start over in the morning.

Chapter 20

              Derek stood by the window in Tobias’ chamber while Tobias dressed for his wedding.  He watched as Tobias clipped his plaid with the family crest.  He wore a starch white shirt with the traditional kilt.  His boots were shined and his sword was strapped to his back.  Derek had never seen Tobias look so fine.  He also wore a white shirt and the family plaid.  He was to stand up with Tobias as he married Bronwyn since his parents were no longer with them.

             
“Are ye nervous, old friend?” he asked Tobias.

             
Tobias chuckled.  He turned from the small mirror over a table and looked at Derek. 

             
“Nay.  There isnae a need to be nervous.  I have kenned Bronwyn since I learned of the betrothal.  My Da took me to meet her and we became friends.  I hadnae seen her since my uncle died, but I am pleased with how she has grown,” he grinned.

             
“She seemed a nice lass the time I was here and they visited.  But why havenae I seen her since we have been here?” Derek asked.

             
Tobias grew silent, and Derek thought he would not answer.

             
“Her mither has been sheltering her from me since they have been here.  I havenae had a chance to speak with her alone since they arrived a sennight ago,” Tobias answered.  Derek noticed a slight change in Tobias’ usually jovial mood.

             
Derek opened his mouth to ask, but decided against it.  He probably would have been subdued also if he and Annabelle’s wedding had been conventional and her mother was overprotective of her.

             
“Weel, now ye will get to see her as much as ye please.”

             
Tobias did not say anything at first, but then his face cleared.

             
“Aye.  What about ye, Derek?  Were ye nervous when ye married Annabelle?”

             
Derek smiled.  It had been quite the opposite for him

             
“Nay.  I was so angry with her, that I didnae have time for any other emotion,” he laughed.

             
“Are ye still angry with her?” Tobias regarded him.

             
Derek sobered.  Was he still angry with Annabelle?  What did he feel for her?  He thought about how she looked when he left her this morning.  She was still sleeping, some of her hair covering her face.  He had reached down and pushed it from her face.  He had felt his body stir just looking at her parted lips and smooth skin.  Was he still angry with her?  He remembered how she had resisted marrying him.  She had a stubborn streak in her that was a force to be reckoned with.  She was strong and independent.  What did he feel?

No, he was not angry with her any longer. 

              “Nay,” he said quietly.  “I amnae angry with her.”

             
Tobias smiled at his friend and then turned toward the door.

             
“’Tis time,” he said and led the way to the great hall.

§

The great hall was bustling with servants running here and there with last minute preparations.  It seemed there was a bundle
of heather in every corner.  Its fragrance permeated the entire hall, making Annabelle feel as she did when she walked in the field behind Kinloch keep.  She smiled at the memory.  Her mother sometimes walked with her and told her about her childhood.  She suddenly missed home.  She wondered if her father had received Derek’s message and respond.  She hoped he was not too angry, as he surely would be because of the contract he had with Laird Harold.  Maybe Laird Harold was even now preparing to battle Derek for her.  She hoped not, but what could she do?  He did have a legal right to her through contract.

Annabelle walked to the kitchen to see if she could be of some help.  She moved among the flurry of servants asking here and there if she could do anything.  They all smiled at her and declined her assistance.  She could see that they had everything well in hand.  She walked through the door that led to the yard.  She smiled when she felt the sun on her face.  This was a beautiful day for a wedding.

There were men setting up for the games that would follow the wedding breakfast; hammer toss, caber tossing, sword play, weight for height, and maide laisg.  The wedding was to be an all-day event.  She walked toward the loch she and Colm sat near the day before.  The wedding would be starting soon, but she needed some time to herself.  She sat down and gazed over the water.  A light breeze blew across her face.  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

She had awaken to servants moving in and out of the chamber with buckets of water.  She sat up and saw a tub sitting in the middle of the chamber, steam rising from the water within.  The place where Derek had slept was already cool.  She stopped one of the servants before she left the chamber.

“What is all of this?” she asked the girl.

“Derek order a bath for ye, and someone to dress yer hair,” she smiled and left the room.

Annabelle sat staring at the tub.  Derek’s mood last night was a mystery to her.  He seemed so intense and maybe a little desperate in his love making.  She still did not understand why he insisted she know it was he whom she lay with.  Of course, she knew who she lay with.  She knew his touch, the taste of him, the feel of him against and inside of her.  She would never mistake his touch with someone else.  She knew when he was near, and felt bereft when he was not. He made her laugh with a simple story, and stopped her heart with just a smile.  He took her breath away with just a touch of his hand.  Her feelings toward him were so confused.  She thought that she should still hate him for striking her and trying to control her actions.  But she also felt drawn to him; his masculinity and his strength. Then to order a bath for her this morning, she did not know what to feel.  She knew that he would never change his ways, but that small gesture was melting her heart even more.  It reminded her of how he had done the same thing on their ride to Bondlach.

Annabelle opened her eyes and threw a small stone across the water.  She had very strong feelings for Derek.  She thought that maybe she had fallen in love with her philandering husband.  She stood and headed back to the keep.  She smiled to herself, but she was also terrified of what was just revealed.  How could she give her heart to someone who would never give his in return?  He loved many women and none at all.  She knew she could not compete with the women Derek was attracted to.  Compared to Maura, she was a stick.  She could understand Derek’s fascination with her.  Although she could match wits with Eilidh, she did not think she could compare with what she imagined the girl did in bed.  Maybe she should ask her and try to learn a few moves.  At least she might be able to hold some of her husband’s attention.  She shook her head.  She did not want to share her husband with anyone.  And she did not want to remind him of any of the other women he bedded.  But what could she do?  She was not going to fight every woman that attracted Derek’s attention.

When she entered the hall, everyone was already in place awaiting for the bride to enter.  Tobias stood near the priest and Derek stood next to him.  Annabelle was struck by how handsome he looked in his MacDougal formal kilt and stark white shirt.  She noticed that he did not have his claymore strapped to his back.  On the other side of the priest stood an older woman.  She stood tall in a puce gown and an unfamiliar plaid attached.  She stood with her lips pursed and her eyes on the priest.  She did not look happy.  Annabelle could only guess that she was the bride’s mother.  She looked around and saw three beautiful girls sitting with another older woman.  They all had the same coloring as Tobias, but in differing shades.  The older woman had a smile on her face as she stared at Tobias.  She must be Tobias’ mother and the girls his sisters. 

Annabelle moved deeper into the hall.  She spotted Colm near the back of the hall and headed in his direction.

“Good morrow to ye, Annabelle,” he greeted her with a smile.

“Good morrow, Colm.  I see I returned just in time,” she replied with a smile of her own.

“Aye.  The wedding is about to begin.”

Annabelle stood beside Colm and turned to watch the bride descend the stairs.  She wore a cream colored gown that fit at the top and flowed freely to her feet.  Upon her head was a silk veil that matched the plaid her mother was wearing.  Her hair was black and flowed freely down her back.  When she reached  Tobias’ side, she removed the veil and turned to the priest.  She never looked in Tobias’ direction.  There was a slight frown on his face.

“Is there a problem?” she asked Brighid, who had come to stand beside them with her husband.

“I doona ken.  Browyn has been in her chamber since their arrival I was told,” she whispered back.

Annabelle turned her attention back to the ceremony.  She remembered her wedding to Derek.  It was nowhere near this beautiful.  She smiled.  It accomplished the same end, but she was sure that if she had married Laird Harold, it would be the same as this one.  Maybe if she and Derek could ever see eye to eye, they could one day have a real ceremony.