DevilsHeart (14 page)

The air left her lungs in a rush. He touched his lips to the
skin just below her ear. She pressed her lips together, preventing the sigh of
contentment building within her chest from escaping. She was still too angry,
too hurt. Maybe Rathe was innocent in all of this, but how likely were those
odds?

“Do you know what it does to a man when even a woman’s hand
on his cock can’t get him hard? But you…a smile, the scent of your hair, or now
as you rage at me. It all brings me to life.”

She resisted the warmth of pleasure his words engendered,
fighting to keep the anger tensing her muscles. As if sensing a crack in her
armor, he pressed his body further into hers, dropping his lips to her neck.
His rigid shaft pulsated against her belly. Her inner thighs tingled, her
nipples peaking against his chest, suddenly sensitive with every movement.

“Was it that witch? The one who gave you the amber pendant?
Or is it you?” His teeth grazed her throat and a dark thrill swirled through
her abdomen. “Are you a witch?”

A shimmer of trepidation slithered down her spine. The last
thing she needed was to be accused of witchcraft. “No,” she shot back.

He smiled against her skin, skipping one finger across her
palm as he held it hostage against the wall. She shivered.

“I suppose there is little to complain of as long as you
continue spreading your legs for me,” he murmured.

A surge of irritation mingled with the desire building
within her. She renewed her struggles, drawing a soft laugh from his throat as
he tightened his hold on her wrists.

He dragged his lips along her jaw, relaxing his body against
her. And then came the surrender. Heat radiated outward from her core until her
limbs softened, her breaths slowing into a disquieting rhythm.

She struggled to maintain her anger. “Your hands were on
her.”

He pulled back, their eyes meeting. “To push her away. Janet
had sought me out.”

“Why?”

His deep chuckle vibrated through her chest, sending little
lightning bolts of lust from her hardened nipples to her core. “A little
something of which you know all too well.”

“What’s that?”

He gave her a boyish grin. “Jealousy.”

All at once, he released her wrists and stepped away.

She almost crumpled to the floor. Scrambling to hold on to
the wall, she willed the tension back into her muscles. Her mouth dropped open
to retort, but nothing came out and she clamped it shut.

The man was pure evil. Crude, annoying, and evil. No wonder
he was called the Satan of the Highlands.

He cocked his head back with an air of arrogance. “I guess
neither of us likes to share.” He gave her a wink and stepped out the door.
“Come, lass. It is time to say your goodbyes.”

Her shoulders tingled in mortification, every instinct
within her urging her to find a nice little hiding spot until everyone who had
witnessed her little outburst in the courtyard had given up and gone home.

Including Rathe. Maybe he was innocent. Maybe not. But one
thing was certain—the man was an arrogant asshole.

“I am not above throwing you over my shoulder and carrying
you out myself if need be, Leah.”

She groaned and rolled her eyes. The man had no shame and
would have no problem carrying her kicking and screaming through the courtyard.
Hell, he’d probably tie her up and gag her too without a second thought.

She dragged herself away from the wall and stepped into the
doorway, pausing as her eyes readjusted to the sun. Her gaze landed on Rathe’s
outstretched hand. Her hand shook as she took his, her cheeks heating as the
courtyard quieted once again.

She bit her lip and glanced into the keep. Could she get
away with refusing to leave? But then she caught Janet’s stare from where the
woman stood in the middle of the great hall. Her arms were crossed, her eyes
narrowed into slits as she glared at Leah.

An unnerving chill rushed down Leah’s spine. The keep no
longer seemed like such a safe place after all. With the creepiness of her
earlier exchange with Andrew and now Janet’s eyes throwing daggers at her,
Rathe had more in common with a fuzzy, warm teddy bear than either of those
two.

She turned toward Rathe. As he led her toward the mormaer
and his family waiting at the end of the courtyard, guilt set in. Had she just
stolen another woman’s man? Was she now the “other woman”?

“Were you and Janet…I mean, were you together?” She shook
her head as her stomach sank. Now who was the asshole?

He stopped, his brows drawn together. “Woman, I already
admitted I had bedded her.”

“No. Were you in a relationship?” she whispered, stepping
closer to him in order to maintain their privacy while dozens of eyes watched
their every move. “Were you, you know,
hers
?”

He laughed, the skin at the corner of his eyes creasing into
adorable crinkles. “In as much as any man here is. Janet is very popular.”

Lord, help her, but she wanted to kiss those crinkles. “But
she was glaring at me. She was angry.”

He shrugged. “She’s used to my attentions when I visit. It
is just a bit of envy.”

“I don’t steal other women’s men.”

Exasperation laced his heavy exhalation, but his grin
softened the effect. “Then you are the better person. I would not have cared
one whit about to whom you belonged. Do not worry. No other woman has any
claims on me.”

The lighthearted gentleness of his tone eased at least some
of her newfound apprehension. She allowed him to walk forward once again. But
then he came to an abrupt stop and she banged her face into his arm. She jumped
back and rubbed the sharp pain out of her nose.

“Is there another who has claim to you?” he asked, his tone
turning dark. “Someone back home, perhaps?”

Her brows lifted in surprise, her mind racing. Was she
imagining the uncertainty in his tone? She searched his face for anything
contradictory but only a faint hint of worry dulled his eyes.

Worry? No. Rathe wasn’t the type to worry. Especially not
about other men.

She almost laughed as Simon’s image came to mind. “No. I
don’t have anyone back home. Not anymore.”

Rathe gave her a curt nod and led her over to the mormaer
and his family. He stood aside as Glenna threw her arms around Leah’s legs.

“
Ne pas aller!
” the little girl mumbled into Leah’s
skirts. “
Vous me manquerez.
”

Do not go! I will miss you.

Tears stung Leah’s eyes and she pulled the child’s arms away
so she could squat down at eye level. She brushed a dark curl away from
Glenna’s face and gave her a hug, whispering reassurances they’d see one
another again.

Once Glenna had decided it was time to let go, Leah stood
and received hugs and well wishes from the rest of the family. Alpina was the
last to say goodbye and though she wished Leah well, the fearful look in her
eyes as they flitted toward Rathe gave away her fears.

Leah spun around as soon as she was able and swiped at her
eyes with the back of her hand. Saying goodbye had never been something she was
good at. She never could keep it together and it always took others by
surprise. Being shy and quiet, she’d often been accused of coldness or snobbery
simply because she wasn’t exuberant enough or affectionate toward people she
didn’t know well. But her emotions had always run deep, ironically so deep her
mother would accuse her of being too sensitive. Leah could never seem to win.

She glanced up at Rathe, who was watching her with a strange
shadow of something akin to satisfaction or even pride reflecting in his eyes.
Part of her wanted to ask him about it, but the larger part just wanted to
leave. Carrying the weight of everyone’s stares and open curiosity was
exhausting.

She didn’t stop as she swept past him. His fingertips glided
across the small of her back as he fell into step beside her, guiding her
toward two horses waiting with stable hands at the exit through the castle
walls.

He touched her elbow as they approached the smaller of the
horses. It was a gorgeous animal with sleek black fur that almost shined blue
in the sun. The horse turned his head, flicking his eyelashes as though sizing
her up and then twisted away in obvious dismissal.

Rathe took her hand and patted the seat of the saddle. “Up
you go, lass.”

She didn’t move. She stared at the back of the horse’s head,
her stomach full of butterflies. She’d never once ridden a horse.
Transportation with its own mind always seemed unwise. “I don’t know how.”

His fingers twitched against her arm. “You have not ridden
before?”

She shook her head.

“How…” His hand slid up her arm to the back of her neck and
rested there as he leaned toward her. “You never learned?”

“No, we never needed to. Horseback riding is just…a hobby, I
guess you could say, where I come from.”

“Hobby?”

She sighed in agitation. Maybe she should just get on the
damn horse and worry about getting thrown and breaking her neck later when she
didn’t have such a large audience. She lifted her hand to grab onto the saddle.
The horse grunted and sidestepped away from her.

“Come, you will ride with me.” Rathe turned her toward a
larger, dark-brown horse. With all of the grace of a sleek jungle cat, he
gained the saddle in one fluid movement and extended his hand down to her.

She gave a sideways glance toward the horse’s face. The
animal met her gaze and then rotated his eyes away as though her presence was
of little consequence.

As she raised her hand toward Rathe’s, her stomach roiled in
apprehension. There seemed to be something too permanent, something very final
in placing her hand in his. As his fingers wrapped around hers, she hesitated,
her feet rooted to the earth.

“I can’t,” she whispered with a violent shake of her head.

He gripped her hand, his muscles tensing to hold her in
place. A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “You are a bit of a skittish thing,
aren’t you, lass? I promise my horse will be gentle. You will be safe.”

She swallowed hard, shaking her head faster. “No, it’s not
that. It’s just that I-I can’t do this. I can’t—”

He squeezed her fingers. “Cannot what, lass?”

“I can’t go with you. I can’t be your wife. Not if you’re going
to be with other women. I can’t go through that again. I won’t.”

He pulled her close and leaned down, irritation crinkling
his brow. “I already explained about Janet.”

“Were you with other women when you were married before?”

His lashes flicked upward. His lips thinned as he stared at
her. “I was no stranger to taking pleasures outside the marital bed.”

Leah’s knees threatened to crumple beneath her just as her
heart sank, but somehow she found the strength to remain steady. She dropped
her gaze to her feet, pulling her hand back. “I can’t do this.”

He yanked her forward against his leg. “You are my wife.”

“I won’t be made a fool of again.”

“For the love of God, woman, how many times—”

“I was supposed to have been married over two weeks ago,”
she mumbled, her voice cracking. “But he was with another woman. Everyone saw
it. Rathe, I won’t—”

“Then I will not touch another woman.”

Her eyes shot up to his in disbelief. “What?”

He lifted her fingers to his lips. “As long as you remain
faithful to me, I will be faithful to you.” He pressed a kiss into her flesh,
his eyes never leaving hers.

It was unnerving. And thrilling. And way too much to handle.
Her breath caught in her throat and her lips dried. Could she trust him? Others
had whispered to her of his dark side, of the evil which lay beneath. But who
had more to gain from lying, Rathe or the others? Andrew she could figure out,
since the two seemed like rivals anyway. But Alpina? What would she have to
gain?

But Rathe had just admitted to her his past infidelities.
Not to mention hinting to her before at the troubles in his past marriages. He
had seemed forthright and sincere then and just as much now. She forced her
gaze back, searching his features for any twitch, any muscle in seeming
incongruence with his words. Something to which she could attach her protests.
Something that would allow her to convince him to leave her behind. But there
was nothing.

Earnestness smoothed the crinkles out of his brow as he
tilted his head. “Whoever he was, he was a fool for letting you go. I will not
make the same mistake.”

An inexplicable surge of joy shot through her heart. Odd.
Where was the hesitation? The apprehension? Where was the anger that her plans
to search for the pendant were foiled again?

He released her hand and grabbed her by the waist, pulling
her up onto his lap. He settled her in front of him, draping both of her thighs
across one of his own so she sat sidesaddle. His arms encircled her to take the
reins. She relaxed against his chest, soothed by his warmth and commanding
presence.

He leaned toward her, brushing her hair away from her ear
with the tip of his nose as his lips grazed her skin. “Time to go home, lass.”

Leah glanced behind her at the black horse that followed
riderless after Rathe’s horse. Silky mane as black as the night sky. Dark,
fathomless eyes. It seemed so docile now. Plus, now that she’d spent more hours
than she cared to count riding with Rathe, it didn’t seem as frightening. Maybe
it wouldn’t be so bad learning how to ride.

“Do you think you could teach me to ride?”

“I have a feeling you are already pretty good at it.”

Her brows furrowed for a moment. What…

She smacked Rathe on the arm.

“Oh, you mean horses,” he corrected with an exaggerated,
fake tone.

She rolled her eyes. The incident that morning in the
mormaer’s castle seemed so far away now. Almost as though it was a lifetime
ago. Without the prying eyes of dozens of people around every corner, a sense
of ease replaced a bit of her anxiety. Rathe laughed and joked with his men and
gently teased her. She couldn’t help but smile every time he did. The joy and
comfort glowing in his features seeped into her, warming her heart.

And he’d been attentive. Always ensuring her comfort. Making
sure she had enough to eat at lunch and plenty of privacy when needed. She
wasn’t used to such careful consideration.

“Yes, I mean horses.”

He gave her waist a squeeze. “Perhaps tomorrow morning. I am
enjoying this time with you all to myself too much.”

She pressed her lips together to prevent a smile from
forming. She needed to be careful and not let her heart run away with her. In
truth, they’d spoken very little thus far. She still knew very little about him
and was unwilling to strike up much of a conversation with his men surrounding
them. Most probably didn’t speak English, but her shyness prevented her from
speaking much anyway.

She shifted against him in an attempt to encourage the blood
flow back into her now-numb hip. She’d about had it with this sidesaddle
bullshit. It was expected, of course, since throughout much of history a woman
riding astride like a man was considered unladylike.

He sucked in a breath. His hand snaked around her hip and
down her thigh. “You keep wiggling that sweet little backside against me and I
will have to stop the men for another respite.”

“Sorry,” she breathed, her thigh tingling beneath his hand.
“This isn’t the most comfortable way to travel. I should be able to sit like
you.”

“So, why do you not?”

She paused. “Isn’t it supposed to be unladylike or
something?”

He shifted the reins to his other hand. “Give me your leg.”

She grabbed his thighs to steady herself, distracted for a
moment by how his muscles did not yield at all to her touch. She pulled a leg
to the side and he grasped her knee to assist her.

He smoothed her skirts as she settled against him. Then he
pulled her hair away from her neck and pressed a slow, lingering kiss against
her skin. “Do you always concern yourself with being ladylike?”

She closed her eyes, her belly heating at his touch. “I just
don’t like drawing attention to myself.” Her eyes darted to the men riding
around them. They weren’t watching, were they?

His soft laugh against her hair sent a pleasant vibration
through her skin. “Funny, the more you attempt to escape attention, the more
mine is drawn to you.”

His hand smoothed over her hip, pressing fingers into the
flesh of her inner thigh, brushing against her pussy. She gasped and placed one
hand over his to stop him from going any further. But it was too late. An
erotic fullness grew in her core, her nipples peaking and rubbing against her
chemise with every movement of the horse.

“Too late, lass,” he whispered into her ear. “You are
already thinking of spreading your legs for me.”

“I am not,” she protested, heat rising to her cheeks. But,
damn it, he was right. Ugh. What the hell was wrong with her? Why did her body
always respond the instant he touched her, even if they were in public?

“Your pulse is quickening, I can see it at the base of your
throat.”

Goose bumps scuttled along her flesh and she filled her
lungs with a slow, calming breath.

“You remember last night when I tasted you?”

Her heart thudded and she dug her fingers into his thighs.
Remember? How could she forget? His tongue tracing her folds, flicking her clit.
Her breath caught in her throat, her core slickening in anticipation. It had
been years since a man had done that to her. Since well before Simon.

Rathe nipped her ear. “I want you to come on my mouth before
I spread you wide and fuck you.”

She sank back against him, biting her lower lip to trap the
whimper tickling the back of her tongue.
Damn him.

“I am so hard for you, lass. I could pull your skirts up and
sink into you right here, right now. I would not care who saw.”

Her eyes widened. He wasn’t serious, was he? She could
never, in a million years, have sex while others watched but his lurid words
were too tempting to her vivid imagination. She would lean forward, more than
wet enough for his cock to slip inside and fill her. The swaying of the horse
moving him in and out. Her clit grinding on the saddle, the fabric of her
chemise rubbing back and forth across her nipples.

He laughed and pecked her on the cheek.

She could kill him. She shoved his hand off her thigh and
crossed her arms. “You are the devil, aren’t you?”

“I like how I can make you wet just by talking to you.”

“You didn’t,” she snapped in mortification.

“Really? Maybe I should check.” He tugged at her skirts.

She gasped, shoving them back down. “Not in front of
everyone!”

He laughed again. “I am teasing you, lass. You think I want
any other man’s eyes to have access to any part of you? I talk and I tease, but
rest assured no one watches you take your pleasure but me. That is my
privilege.”

A deep ache formed in her core, coaxing her hips back
against him. “Sorry, I’ve been told you had…dark lusts. I just thought—”

“Dark lusts?” He shrugged against her. “It is no secret I
enjoy the pleasures of the flesh.”

She pressed her lips together, casting her eyes down. Words
escaped her. Was that all it was? That he liked and had a lot of sex? Why did
she always let her imagination scare the crap out of her? Lady Alpina and
Andrew hated Rathe. Trusting their stories about him was stupid.

He pressed his lips to her neck again and added, “Especially
with you.”

Her heart almost sang out but she silenced it. Of course he
did. He liked sex, period. Well, so did she, but ever since meeting him, it had
turned into an insidious craving. Not having enough experience in this area
left her clueless over how to control it.

He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her against his
chest. “Truth though, lass. I did make you wet, right?”

Her whole face turned hot. But for some reason she gave him
a hesitant nod. Her face fell into her hands in mortification. “Oh God, did I
just admit to that?”

He laughed and gave her a gentle squeeze. “Are all women
from the future as easily embarrassed as they are aroused as you?”

She yanked her face away from her hands. “Future?” she
whispered. “How do you know about that?”

“The mormaer told me. You have come to us like my friend’s
wife did. And, like her, we will keep it a secret. That stone of which you
spoke. It was enchanted by the old Graham witch.”

Her eyes shifted back and forth in apprehension. “Your
friend’s wife?”

He nodded against her head. “About four or five years ago.”

Excitement shot through her and she twisted in his arms to
face him. There was someone else like her here in the thirteenth century! “And
she’s like me? From the same place?”

He nodded and smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling
again.

“Do I get to meet her? What is she like?”

He laughed, threading his fingers through hers. She covered
the back of his hand with her other hand, sandwiching his between.

“Soon,” he promised, his eyes softening. “We shall stay the
night with them on the morrow. Anna is wonderful. Very smart…very odd for a
woman. She has some strange ideas at times and is very strong-willed. The
MacAirth has his hands full with her.”

“What strange ideas? And what do you mean by odd?”

“She just thinks differently. Acts as though women are equal
to men.”

Leah stilled.
And here we go.
“We are,” she murmured.

It was his turn to stiffen. “What?”

She swallowed in an attempt to dislodge the nervousness
arising. Ugh, why hadn’t she just kept quiet? Debating feminism with a
thirteenth-century man was surely a lost cause. But the notion that he thought
less of her because she was a woman ate at her.

Finally, she spat out, “Your penis doesn’t give you more
intelligence or automatic dominion over me because I am female.”

His fingers twitched beneath hers. “My what?”

Seriously? Was that word not in English usage yet? “Cock,”
she forced out. “Your cock.” She rolled her eyes and exhaled as she prepared
for his teasing.

He nuzzled her neck. “I like how you say that word.”

“Rathe, I’m being serious.”

“I am too. I thought I was hard before, but now—”

He’d finally driven her to open exasperation. “Rathe!” she
scolded.

He chuckled and squeezed her hand. “All right, lass. I will
play along. The fact of the matter is we live in a dangerous world. Women are
at the mercy of men, especially those who wish them harm.”

“But it’s only because you already consider us inferior. If
you didn’t, then women wouldn’t be attacked or abused as often. The problem is
men here see women as a possession. As something with which they can do as they
please. Give away or steal, much like land or money.”

“Not all men abuse their power, Leah.” His tone was low and
measured. “But women need to be taken care of and guided. Their weakness—”

She snorted, amazed by her sudden comfort around Rathe.
“I’ve been taking care of myself for years, thank you very much. I’ve lived on
my own, held a job, kept track of my own money. A man—”

“A job? What do you mean?”

She paused at the shift in topics. “I worked to help take
care of a library. It’s what provided me with an income.”

“What is a library?”

“It’s a building with a large number of books people can
borrow. Either to read for enjoyment or to learn about something.”

“Who the hell reads for enjoyment?”

She laughed at his dismissive tone. “I do, for one. So do
lots of others. Most people in my time and area are taught to read.”

“Warriors and peasants? Barmaids too?”

She nodded, tickled by the change from patience to wonder in
his voice. The ability to read would be an unusual claim here in the thirteenth
century. Most people had little use for it and literacy generally only reached
the upper echelons of society. Even then, it wasn’t uncommon for even members
of the nobility to not read or write. “Can you read?”

He shrugged. “Some. The mormaer mentioned how educated you
are. What about writing? Can you do that too?”

“Yes. It’s generally taught along with reading beginning
during childhood.”

“Tell me more about this future. It seems strange.”

Tell him about the future? Where to even begin? “I don’t
know. People live in cities mostly where I’m from. They go to work, go to their
individual homes. Maybe meet friends or family on the weekend to spend time
together.”

“They do not live with their families?”

“Younger children and parents typically live together, but
adults have separate houses a lot of the time. Some even live by themselves.
It’s not uncommon to live far away from family and not even know your
neighbors’ names.”

“Did you live by yourself?”

“For a time. I also lived with the man I was supposed to
marry for about four years.”

“But you never married?”

She shook her head.

He leaned closer to her ear. “I do not understand. You lived
as a wife to this man but there was no marriage?”

The incredulity in his tone was not lost on her. Her ire
built—she was definitely no stranger to this question. “Now you sound like my
mother.”

“You shared his home and his bed, I presume? It was not he
simply took you once or twice before abandoning you, but many times? Over
years?”

Words escaped her. Their worlds were so different. How could
she describe in a mere sentence or two the cultural and social chasm that had
developed in the Western world over the last eight hundred years?

“You were nothing more than his mistress.”

The contempt in his tone stung, sending her into a spiral of
agitation and self-doubt. Okay, so maybe her mother had been on to something.
Maybe the signs had been there all along with Simon. Maybe she didn’t ask
enough questions, didn’t have the courage to speak frankly. She sighed and
shook her head. Funny, how she—shy, unobtrusive Leah Gunn—who always tried so
hard to blend in and not attract attention was little more than a rebel here in
the thirteenth century. Educated, independent, and now a “kept woman”. She stood
out like a sore thumb.

“And in all that time, you never bore this man’s child?”

“Look, it’s different in my time. People often live together
when they’re not married. They have sex. And they use birth control if they
don’t want kids.”

“Have sex?”

This lack of a shared English vocabulary was getting
annoying. All of the words she would generally use were so sanitized compared
to the earthy, direct-to-the-point words Rathe would use. Which meant she was
going to have to say it out loud. And not because she’d stubbed her foot on the
coffee table or spilled coffee on her library usage reports.

She turned toward him, but kept her gaze down. “It means
fuck, all right?”