Read Highland Hero Online

Authors: Hannah Howell

Highland Hero (35 page)

He had known she was trouble the moment she had appeared at his gates. A part of him wished he had turned her away, but even if he had not been bound by his vow to his mother, he suspected he would never have done so. From the moment she had frowned at him he had been captivated. He had just tried very hard to fight it. Now he had to admit that he had lost the battle.

Sleep pulled at him and he let it. It was the surest way to regain his strength, and he knew he was going to need it. He had a little flame-haired woman to seduce and woo, a killer to capture, and a father to soothe.

Chapter 7

“What are ye doing out of bed?” Tatha demanded as she entered David’s bedchamber and saw him standing by the window.

“Walking,” he answered, and grinned at her look of disgust.

Tatha set the tray of food she had brought on the table by his bed, then placed her hands on her hips and tried to look stern. “Ye had the stitches taken out only yesterday. Ye should be resting.”

“I cannae rest any more,” he said as he walked to the bed and sat on the edge, reaching for the flagon of ale she had brought him. “I have rested for almost a fortnight. There is too much I must do.”

“Ye can tell others what ye need done. Ye need not do it all yourself,” she complained as she sat down on the chair facing him.

She tried not to stare at him as he ate. Ever since Leith had caught them kissing she had approached David cautiously or only when someone else was in the room. They were alone and he was looking very healthy. It made her nervous. Although she had decided not to fight her attraction for him anymore, the thought of letting her passion rule was a little frightening.

Then she frowned. Since that kiss he had not really tried to steal another. She might be ready to succumb to desire, but she suddenly wondered if his had faded. Tatha mused that it would be highly annoying if, now that she had decided to give up her innocence, David was no longer interested in taking it. It would also hurt, but she struggled not to think about how much.

“No need to look so cross, lass,” he said. “I willnae do so much that I weaken myself. I ken the benefit of rest.”

“Aye, I suppose ye do. Ye have been a verra good patient.” She stood up and nervously smoothed down her skirts. “Weel, if ye promise nay to do too much, I will leave ye to your meal.”

He caught her by the wrist as she started to move away. “Nay, lass, stay and keep me company.” He smiled when she cautiously sat down again. “I have a few questions for ye and have put off the asking of them for far too long.”

“What questions?” She clutched her hands together in her lap, afraid that he was about to try to convince her she should return to her father.

“About Sir Ranald.”

“I willnae marry the mon.”

“I cannae fault ye on that. Nay, I but realized that ye may have knowledge of the mon I dinnae have. He came often to your father’s keep?”

“Often enough, although I did my best to avoid him.”

“Why?”

“He is a pig. A lecherous dog. The last time he was at my father’s keep, I didnae get out of his way fast enough and had bruises in far too many places. The mon feels a lass likes a hard pinch. He savaged a maid or two.”

“And your father did naught?”

“They werenae virgins or weelborn lasses. If he kenned what happened, he didnae consider it important. Many a mon doesnae concern himself with what befalls a maid, especially one who is kenned to bed down with a mon or two as the fancy takes her. I am nay sure the lasses told my father what had been done. I had to treat the bruises and welts left, but I didnae say anything either. I dinnae ken why.” She frowned. “Mayhap I thought they would or, in my heart, I didnae wish to hear my father actually admit that he didnae care what had happened to them.”

“Mayhap if ye had told him, he wouldna have sold ye to the mon.”

The way his long fingers almost idly caressed her wrist clouded her mind with desire. Tatha found it a little sad that she could be so deeply affected by a touch, yet he seemed completely at ease. It would have been fine indeed if he were as mindlessly affected by her as she was by him.

“I am nay sure it would have made a difference. My brothers have bedded those lasses, and I think my father has too. The ones Sir Ranald set upon are used by many a mon. I dinnae ken what I thought. I just mended them and tried to forget it all. Again, mayhap I feared it would make no difference. In truth, once I realized I had been sold to that mon, I thought of little else save getting away ere he could get me.”

David nodded. “I think I can understand that. Did ye learn much aside from his lechery?”

“He was most interested in my knowledge of herbs.” She grimaced. “E’en that interest was based in his lechery. He mostly asked about what I might have to enhance a mon’s virility, if there was something I had that could make a mon a better lover. Such as that. I began to wonder if he had some, weel, some male difficulty. I probably should have asked the maids. Mayhap he didnae savage them whilst taking his pleasure, but because he couldnae gain any from them. I just didnae wish to ken much about the mon. Whene’er he was about, I just wished to hide.”

Seeing her agitation, he took both her hands in his and kissed each palm. “Dinnae fret, dearling. Ye cannae be expected to have foreseen that it was knowledge ye may be in need of. ’Tis also understandable that ye should shy away from such truths. Then too, mayhap the lasses said naught for they ken such treatment is the cost of their whorish ways.”

“No woman deserves such treatment, be she whore or nun.”

“I ken, and none of my men would be allowed to behave so, but few would agree with us. Ye cannae change the world. Just your own wee corner of it. Ye also had your own fate to change. Did ye, weel, sense anything else about the mon?”

She tried to concentrate, but David was kissing her hands, her wrists, even the inside of her arms. Tatha knew she ought to yank her hands away and soundly reprimand him for being so bold, but she sat there and let him have his way. She wanted him so badly she could taste it, she thought with a sigh.

“I ne’er liked the mon and wondered why my father tolerated him. Sir Ranald is sly, sneaking, and I dinnae think he holds his honor too dear. I ne’er felt he could be trusted, but it appeared that my father trusted him, so I had to wonder if I was wrong in my judgment of the mon. Or mayhap my father didnae care what the character of the mon was because it didnae matter to what he sought to gain from him. I wish I could tell ye more, but I and my sisters were ne’er allowed to ken what games my father played. He felt it none of our concern who he sought as ally or friend and why.”

David decided he had heard all she knew about Sir Ranald, and his thoughts quickly turned elsewhere. Her skin tasted sweet and warm against his mouth. Her eyes had darkened and her breath was uneven, occasionally catching in her throat. It was clear that, despite her attempt to avoid him since his fever broke, her desire for him was still easily stirred. Those hints of passion made his own needs leap to the fore. Cautiously, watching her closely for any hint of rejection, he tugged her out of her seat and into his arms.

There were many reasons why he should not do exactly what he was going to try to do. She was a wellborn lass, a virgin. Her father had betrothed her to another man. It was wrong to take advantage of her innocence and untutored passion. He brutally silenced all qualms as he cupped her face in his hands and gently kissed her. He might not know what he wanted of her or felt for her besides passion, but if he had to wed her to feed the hunger he felt, he would. At the moment it seemed a very small price to pay.

“I dinnae think this is particularly wise,” Tatha managed to say as he fell back onto the bed, taking her with him.

“Nay, ’tis probably the greatest of follies. ’Tis madness, but a verra sweet one.”

“Aye,” she whispered in agreement, shuddering faintly when she saw the desire darkening his eyes.

“I have tried to argue myself out of this hunger time and time again,” he said as he turned until she was sprawled beneath him. “It willnae go away.”

“ ’Tis a torment.”

“Oh, aye, that it is.”

“I should hit ye and push ye away.”

“Aye, ye should.” He began to unlace her gown.

Tatha sighed and eased her hands beneath the jupon he wore, shaking as her hands touched his skin. “Mayhap later.”

“If ye are going to cry me nay, lass, do it now. I dinnae want ye coming to your senses later and berating me. If ye lie with me now, ken in your mind and heart that it is what ye truly wish to do.”

It was the perfect chance to retreat. Tatha knew she should take it. Every rule she had been taught told her to do so. He still offered her only passion, not love or promises of marriage. But as she searched her heart and mind, the only answer she got was a resounding yes. She loved him, ached for him.

“If I suffer any guilt afterward, I promise to keep silent.”

“Ah, Tatha, bonnie Tatha, I mean to burn away all thought of guilt.”

As he moved to take off her shoes and stockings, his big hands caressing her legs, Tatha decided that was no idle promise. When modesty prompted her to object to the removal of her clothes, he kissed away her protests. She trembled beneath the almost casual touches of his hands as he stripped her. It was not just embarrassment that caused her to tremble, however, when she finally lay naked before him. The heated appreciation in his gaze made her passions soar, and she felt almost beautiful.

David crouched over her for a moment, studying her from her thick, bright hair to her delicate feet. He was breathing so hard, he almost felt dizzy. Her breasts were small, but high and firm, the tips a tempting rose. Her waist was slender, her belly taut, and her hips gently rounded. Her skin was a soft, gently blushed white, begging to be stroked. The light tangle of flame red curls that hid her womanhood promised a warmth his body ached to savor. Her long, slender legs shifted slightly, and he forced his gaze back to her face, smiling at the deep blush coloring her cheeks.

“Ah, lass, ye are bonnie. All soft cream and a tempting hint of fire,” he said as he rapidly shed his clothes.

“I am too thin.”

“Ye are lithe.”

“I am too red.”

“Nay, ne’er that. I like the hint of fire. It promises me a heat I ache to bury myself in.”

She found speech impossible when he shed the last of his clothes. He was big, big and achingly beautiful. Broad shoulders, a smooth, hard chest, a trim waist, and narrow hips all tempted her. A narrow line of black hair started just below his navel, blossomed around his manhood, and lightened to a faint cover over his long, muscular legs. The only thing that caused her to hesitate as he lowered himself into her arms was that fully aroused manhood. She had seen naked men before, some even aroused, unable to control themselves in the depths of their illness, but she had to wonder if Sir David had been blessed with a little more than most men.

“Ye frown,” he murmured as he gently trailed kisses over her face. “Am I nay pleasing to your eye?”

“Verra pleasing. Headily so. I am just nay sure ye will fit.”

He bit back a laugh. “Oh, aye, I will. ’Twill hurt the first time.”

“I ken it. My aunt told me all about such matters.” She gave in to the urge to run her hands over his broad, smooth back and felt the hint of a tremor beneath her touch. “She didnae believe maids should be keep ignorant, and also wished me to ken enough nay to be shocked by what I might see as I treated men for illnesses or wounds.”

“Weel, ’tis just that ye have caused it to be at its fullest.”

“I have seen that too.” She smiled at his dark frown, sensing the hint of angry possessiveness behind the look and pleased by it. “I learned that it has a mind of its own and oftimes cannae discern between a touch meant to help and one meant to tease.”

“They can be disobedient fellows.”

She laughed, but her laughter caught in her throat when he covered her breasts with his big hands. Tatha cried out softly, wrapping her arms around his neck, when he touched a kiss to the hardened tip of each breast. Pure fire shot through her, and she arched into his kisses. When he drew the aching tip of her breast deep into his mouth and began to suckle, she feared her passion bordered on insanity, it grew so fierce.

An almost painful ache grew low in her belly. She felt compelled to rub against him, but it was not enough to ease the demand of her body. Touching him, running her hands all over his lean, hard body, made him less gentle, but it still did not satisfy her. When he slid his hand over her belly and tangled his fingers in the tight curls at the juncture of her thighs, shock was but a brief flare of resistance in her mind. He stroked her and she pressed herself into his hand.

David felt the damp warmth of welcome as he stroked her, watched her whole body shake, and knew he would soon have to possess her. Her passion fed his own, though it did not really need feeding; it was already glutted. He gently eased a finger inside of her, and feared he would spill his seed then and there. She was so hot, so tight. He took several deep breaths to try to calm himself. It was important to bring her pleasure. The more pleasure she was feeling when he did take her, the less pain there might be.

He kissed her as he stroked her, his body trembling as he fought to control his own raging need. The moment he felt her tense, then shudder with her impending release, he spread her legs wide and plunged into her. He met her maidenhead, gritted his teeth, and breached it.

Tatha cried out, but she was not sure if it was from the strength of the pleasure raging through her or the brief, sharp stab of pain that cut through it. She wrapped her limbs around him, but was it to steady herself or to pull him closer? Tatha felt confused by the feelings assaulting her.

“Lass, are ye all right?” he asked as he held himself still, sweating from the effort, allowing her body to adjust to his invasion.

“I think so.” She wrapped her legs more securely around his hips and cautiously arched upward. “ ’Tis wondrous strange.”

That slight movement drove him deeper inside of her and he groaned, not sure he could put two coherent words together. “I was hoping it would be a wee bit better than strange.”

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