A Highlander's Home (8 page)

             
Her hands on his shoulders, she said loudly, “
Perhaps you should leave the fighting to the women,
my lord.
”

             
Any other person who had challenged his authority would have been severely punished.  And this chit would have been made an example of for the entire village – if she hadn’t looked so bloody attractive perched atop him.

             
He gripped her hips as she made to stand up.  She stilled.  He smiled.

             
She pushed away and stood over him.  He continued to lay there unmoving, that smirk firmly in place.  She had
beaten
him
,
and he was looking like the cat
that
ate the canary.

             
He watched her walk away, the sway of her hips capturing the gaze of
Leith
and all of his men.  Even Robbie.

             
“Och, there it goes,” Robbie sighed.

             
“Goes what?”
Leith
asked, his gaze not wavering.

             
Robbie shook his head.  “Trouble.”

Chapter 7

             
After the evening meal, from which Raine was conspicuously absent,
Leith
made his way up the meandering staircase.  His intent seemed clear to all in the great hall.  He was going to teach his woman a lesson.  And he would leave no room for doubt that she was indeed his woman. 

             
He had spent the better part of his dinner listening to Father MacDonald revealing what he had discovered in one of his many dusty books on one of his numerous dusty shelves. 

             
Mac thought he knew where the particular stones m
ay be that might be the ones of
legend. 

             
Damnation!  He did not really discredit what the woman had told him about her origins, but neither did he, or could he, actually believe her.  Who could believe such a tale as the one she claimed as the truth? 
No one. 
Except for Mac.

             
He had promised the old priest that he would think about what he had suggested.  Take the woman to the stones and let the prophecy take hold. 
Save his castle. 
Save his people. 
She was the answer, Mac told him.  Why, neither of them knew. 
As if it
was
that simple.

             
He sighed as he climbed the stone stairs. 
Think he would. 
But not tonight.  He smiled as he thought of all the wicked ways he would punish her. 

             
His footsteps softened as he rounded the corner.  He paused and listened outside the door.  No sound.  He smiled again.

             
Inside the room, Raine was motionless as she sat by the window, gazing out at the hillside.  Nothing stirred except a few fireflies showing their glowing bodies to each other.  She chewed her lips and shook her head.  How could she have been so stupid?  To try and humiliate him is one thing.  To do it in front of the
entire
population of his men was asking for trouble.  After her supposed victory, she had second guessed her rationale of besting him.
This was not
Colorado
. It was, after all, sixteenth century
Scotland
.  She had better learn to play by their rules if she wanted to convince someone in this castle to take her to the stones.  She might be stuck here forever if she didn’t find those stones.

             
The slow creaking
drew her attention to the door.  Certainly, he would not be coming to her room this late at night.  Wasn’t it considered inappropriate in this
era?

  She frowned.  Perhaps men didn’t change that much from one century to another.

             
He stepped softly inside the doorway and stilled,
letting his
eyes adjust to the dark.  There was a haphazard lump on the bed and assumed it was her.  He had no plans on tainting her reputation.  Oh, no. 
He
just wanted to show her that he was laird of the castle, lord to his people, and husband to this hot tempered wench.  He couldn’t help the smile that continued to tug at his lips.

             
He lit a candle and turned, but stopped dead in his tracks. 
Mischievous
eyes met blazingly angry eyes.

“
Did
you think to sneak in here and take me by surprise? 
To – to – to rape me?” 
Raine’s temper momentarily
outweighed her fear.

             
Folding his arms over his chest, he let out a breath.  “My lady, I have never had to resort to rape.  My women have always been willing.” 

             
He looked smug.  Too smug.  Raine turned her back to him. 

“Please leave.”  Her tone was weary.  She needed to rest and think about how she would escape marriage to a
Scotsman
in the wrong century
,
and it was wearing on her.

             
She never heard him move so she started when his fingers closed over her shoulder.  His voice was like warm honey on her frayed nerves.  “My lady, you should rest.” 

When she looked at him sideways, he gave a light chuckle.  “I promise not to harm you or take your virginity.” 

             
He took her elbow in his fingers. 
The firelight cast an eerie glow over one half of his face, making his eyes appear to be glowing. 
“Not yet anyway.”

             
She inhaled as her eyes flashed bright green directly at him.  He laughed but gently steered her towards the bed.  She resisted only slightly.  Turning to him, she was prepared to inform him that she was quite capable of putting herself to bed without his help when his lips covered hers. 

             
She tensed but did not turn away.  Maybe it was the tiredness she felt in her bones.  Maybe it was the fear of never returning home.  Maybe it was the deep, masculine, spicy scent of him that filled her nostrils
. 
Maybe it was the heat from his lips that seemed to work magic on her own to make them become as yielding as never before.

             
The pressure from his lips increased until her mouth opened under it.  He wasted no time.  His tongue slowly and
wondrously
invaded the
sweet, warm
orifice.  A sound came from deep in her throat, surprising them both.

             
She leaned into him
,
and her fingers curled in his shirt.  His arms encircled her while his fingers kneaded the perfect little dip that was the small of her back.  He was amazed at how she fit perfectly against him.  He had had other women, lots of them, but there was always a slight
awkwardness
.  Either they were too tall or too short, too slim or too thick. 

             
He stooped and hooked her knees around his wrist and in one deft movement had carried her to the bed.  The smooth embroidered coverlet had been
pushed
to the side when Raine had given up on sleep earlier.  Now they lay sprawled invitingly to the giant laird carrying his woman.

             
The cushioned mattress gave way under her slight weight but plunged deeper as
Leith
’s weight was lowered on top of her.  Her arms were entwined around his neck as he pulled back.  Her lashes fluttered open.  The
feelings welling up inside of her were squelched at the look of triumph that was on his face.

             
She tensed.  “Get off of me.” 

She tried to roll away
,
but he held her still.

             
He nipped her bo
ttom lip and held it between his
teeth.  “Uh uh.”

             
She brought her knee up, preparing to make contact with his groin, but he deftly dodged the
promisingly
painful blow.

“Now, now, my lady.  Were ye
not enjoyin’ yerself just a wee bit?”  His Scottish accent seemed to thicken when they were alone.

             
She snorted and tried to twist her wrists out of his grasp.  She failed.  “
Is
that what you thought I was doing?  Enjoying myself? Ha!”

             
He was not fooled.  Her head was turned to the side to avoid his lips
but it only granted him better
access to her
lovely
neck.  He took full advantage and swooped in for a nibble.  In
an instant she
choked
on her breath
.  Her leg suddenly developed a mind of its own and wrapped itself around h
is
hips. 
Leith
took
that as a good sign.  He would make her wanton with need and then take his leave.  Such punishment might remind her not to challenge his authority.

             
His large hands moved over her arm, down her ribcage to feel her sharp intake of air, hovered over her hip, and completed its journey on her outer thigh.  His free hand moved up her neck and locked itself in her glorious blonde tresses to hold her in place.  He increased the pressure of his lips on hers until her mouth was forced open to the invasion of his tongue.  Raine resisted for a
heartbeat
and then met him stroke for stroke.  He smiled to himself.  She should have been crowned with a mane of red hair instead of gold for all the passion she exuded. 

             
He cupped his hand on her woman’s mound and moved his fingers slowly, rotating in small circles, enjoying the way her breath was growing heavy.  The bed had started to accommodate the slight rocking motion that had started between the great Scotsman and his foreign woman but neither of them noticed.

             
His hands were so large and his body so heavy as he leaned on top of her.  She dug her nails in his shoulder as he shifted, not wanting to release his weight from her. 

             
She was mindless, wanton, and she didn’t care.  Her breath was ragged and her skin was covered in a fine layer of sweat which, she noticed, he enjoyed biting or licking.  Both of which were scandalously enjoyable at the moment.

             
Withdrawing his mouth from hers and disentangling himself from her web of limbs, he stood up.  She whimpered and leaned up on her elbows, her disheveled locks of hair scattered over her face.  She blew the strands from her eyes.  “What are you doing?”  Her voice was a little more breathless than she would have liked.

             
Leith
chuckled.  “I am off to bed, my lady.”  He paused.  “Alone.”

             
She made a noise of disbelief.  “Then what was….this?”  She gestured to the bed.

             
He leveled his gaze at her and through the flickering of the candlelight she saw as well as sensed the fierceness in his eyes.  “
This
was a taste of what we will share on our wedding night.  My leaving
is what will teach ye
obedience and submission to my authority.” 

             
As he turned on his heel to leave, she sprang from the bed.  Pure agitation flowed through her veins.  He had turned her into a half wit female mad with passion, willing to give up her virginity to him, only to be thwarted which left him in control – again.

             
She poked him in the chest with one finger and spat, “There will be no wedding night for us.  For the tenth time, I am not your fiancé
,
and we are not getting married!  Tonight…this…this…”  She stuttered.  “
This
was nothing.”

             
Leith
had little patience left for this.  The chill in his voice was as cold as his passion had been
burning minutes ago. 

“Believe ye me, lass, ye
are indeed my fiancé and will be my wife.  Believe also that this is my castle and these are my people.  I lead them, I feed them, I protect them.  I will
not have anyone – including ye
– usurping my authority.”  He stepped towards her forcing her to take a step back.

             
“Ye willna challenge me.  Ye will obey me.  Ye
will support my decisions, wh
atever they may be, and willna complain.  Ye will not wear men’s trews.  Ye
will m
arry me in a week’s time, and ye
will warm my bed.”