Elaine Coffman - [MacKinnon 04] (36 page)

She gasped, sucking in her breath hard as he pushed himself
deeper. “Frighten me some more.”

“You may not say that when this is over,” he said, “for I
mean to ride you harder than you’ve ever been ridden before.” He wasn’t able to
say anything more, for his body seemed to take over, driving into her with
hammering strokes.

Maggie couldn’t speak. Her body trembled as she gave in to
the gripping spasms that twisted her, and still he hammered into her, again and
again. He seemed to be driven by demons.

“You wanted it, didn’t you?” he said, his voice strained.
“You wanted it and you begged for it, and by God, I intend to see you get
exactly what you’ve been after. There’ll be no quarter given between you and
me, Maggie. Now now. Not ever.”

He thrust into her harder and harder, pounding repeatedly
until she thought she would be ripped apart. The weight of his whole body
rested on her now, pinning her against the floor as he drove against her, his
hands coming down to slide between them, then gripping her buttocks and lifting
her, making his penetration even deeper.

“Yes,” she cried. “Yes, love. Yes. Oh, God! Adrian! Yes!”
She screamed then, and he stopped her with his mouth, but even then he did not
stop.

After a long while, when their breathing had returned to
normal, Adrian rolled from her, just enough to lie next to her. She cradled her
head against his shoulder, her hand trailing in the thick mat of hair on his
chest.

“This is becoming a habit,” he whispered, groaning as he
stretched the kinks from his legs. “Making love to you.”

“Is that what we were doing?” she asked, unable to suppress
a smile. “Making love?”

His chin was flattened against his chest when he looked down
at her. “You’re a pain in the arse,” he said, mussing her hair, then in a
muffled tone, he added, “but I’ve had worse pains.”

“That’s good, because I have something I want to ask you.”

“What?”

“I was wondering,” she said, laughing, “if you would mind my
bothering you some more.”

He laughed. “Be my guest,” he said, sucking in his breath as
she rolled over him.

Adrian felt like getting drunk, and he probably would have
if he hadn’t realized he needed his wits about him if he was going to resolve
things between himself and Maggie. It frustrated him that he had let things go
for as long as he had. It wasn’t his nature to let things bump and slide along
in a haphazard manner without any direction. He would never consider allowing
his mill to run itself…so why had he been guilty of such with his marriage?

You get out of things what you put into them.
There
was little wonder, then, just why it was that Adrian didn’t feel as if he was
getting as much out of his relationship with Maggie as he should. How much more
obvious could it be that there was something missing? She was open and
receptive when it came to making love. She was gentle and considerate whenever
they were together. She had even told him she loved him that fateful day her
children came. She was all-giving, and it shattered him to know he had accepted
something he did not deserve. Maggie’s most outstanding trait was her forgiving
spirit. She was like the sandalwood tree that perfumes the ax that fells it.

Yes, something between them was missing. Things were not
normal. He still felt reserved and shy around her—when he wasn’t bumbling and
ill at ease. And Maggie? He hated to admit that she didn’t act like a woman in
love. She didn’t have the look of a woman in love. She did not look happy—and
because of that, Adrian could not be happy either. Strange how his own
happiness seemed to rely upon hers.

True, Maggie had deceived him; she had withheld information
he had every right to know. Yet he couldn’t help thinking the mess that had
been made of things was more his fault than hers. The reality of it ate at him.

So did one question. Was Maggie leaving him? Surely she
couldn’t be, for there were too many signs that she was entrenching herself
into his life and home and business like a rodent that burrows deep into the
earth. Couldn’t she see that he had come to care for her? Didn’t she understand
that what he called desire was, in fact, love? Wouldn’t she realize these
things, knowing that the words he had spoken so hatefully that day were only
his reaction to pain, and the anger that follows betrayal?

But what if she didn’t?

Are you willing to risk everything on that gamble?

“Damn you, Maggie,” he said to an empty room. “You said you
were going to tell me about the children before they came. Why didn’t you? Why
did you wait too long? I don’t understand.”

Don’t you? Maybe it was for the same reason you keep
waiting to tell her how you feel. Maybe she was afraid. Just like you.

The more he mulled that over, the more he became convinced
that he was guilty of the same thing he had criticized Maggie for. Why did it
seem such a crime when Maggie did it, only to be perfectly understandable when
he did?

He went in search of Molly. He found her in the laundry,
folding clothes with Wong. “I want to talk to you, if you have a minute,” he
said.

“Didn’t want to fold clothes anyway,” Molly said. Giving
Wong’s pigtail a yank, she followed Adrian from the room. Back in his study, he
poured himself a glass of claret, pouring another one for Molly. “We may need
this,” he said, picking up the bottle and carrying it back to his desk. He took
a seat behind the desk, indicating a chair for Molly.

“Tell me something,” he said. “Is Maggie still planning on
returning to Scotland?”

“Why don’t you ask her?”

“Because I’m asking
you
. Is she?”

“I sure wouldn’t blame her none if she did.”

“A direct answer will do. Is Maggie leaving?”

“Why wouldn’t she? If I remember right, you sure as fire
liked the idea when the children came.”

Adrian clenched his fists. Why was conversation between a
man and a woman so difficult? He took a deep breath. “Molly, I am not trying to
force you to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me. I’ve come to you
because…because I need help.”

It was the first time in months that Adrian noticed Molly’s
features soften toward him. “Well,” she said, “I suppose—considering how hard
that confession had to be for you—that the least I can do is offer to help.”

“Thank you.”

“You know, I had a similar conversation with Maggie.”

“You did?”

“Yes, not over her leaving, mind you. It was long before
that, right after you found out about her being married and all.”

“She told you about that?”

“She did. Told me she had younguns, too.”

Adrian came out of his chair. “
You
knew? You knew all
along?”

“I did.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“Wasn’t my place to tell you.”

Adrian sat down. “Go on.”

“She told me about her children, asking me what she should
do.”

“And you advised her to tell me,” he said.

“No, I advised her to wait a while, to give the two of you a
little more time together. I can see now that I was wrong.
That’s
why
I’m not going to give you any advice.” Molly came to her feet. “Thanks for the
claret.”

Just as she reached the door, Adrian said, “Molly, if you
were me, what would you do?”

She turned back to him. “If I were you,” she said, “I wouldn’t
let any dust gather under my feet. If you love her. If you want her and the
children to stay. You’d better tell her.”

“I had hoped she could tell that I wanted her to stay.
Damn,” he said, staring up at the ceiling, his face twisted with indecision. “I
know I could make her understand. If I only had more time.”

“‘Had I fish’ is good without mustard, I hear.”

“You aren’t much help.”

“There are some things a body has to do for themselves.” She
shook her head. “I don’t reckon I’ll ever understand just why it is that the
good Lord made a man so strong in so many ways, only to make him weak when it
comes to baring his heart to the woman he loves. A woman isn’t like parched
earth. Just because you’ve sprinkled her liberally with droplets of information
doesn’t mean she is going to know a man loves her by soaking all those droplets
up. If you want Maggie to know how you feel, you’re going to have to tell her.”

She left the room. A moment later she poked her head around
the door.

“Change your mind?” he asked.

“No, but I have something that might change yours.”

“And what is that?”

“Something my pa used to say.”

“Wonderful. That’s just what I need. Family wit.” Seeing the
curve of a smile on her face, the twinkle in her eye, he said, “All right. What
is it?”

“‘For want of a nail, the shoe is lost; for want of a shoe,
the horse is lost; for want of a horse, the rider is lost.’ If I was you, I
wouldn’t wait too long. The way I see it, you’ve already lost the shoe and the
horse. You’re down to where the water hits the wheel, as Big John says.”

“I’ve been such a fool,” he said. “A stupid, inconsiderate,
blind fool.”

“Well, I don’t think you should go blaming yourself too
hard. Lord knows, if every fool wore a white cap, we’d all look like a flock of
geese,” she said, and then she was gone.

For a long time after Molly left, Adrian leaned back in the
chair with his eyes closed, contemplating what Molly had said. He was filled
with regret and relief. Regret for all the wrong that had passed between them,
the misunderstandings, the lack of communication. Relief that he had realized
his mistake in time. Maggie
did
love him. She had told him so.
But
you never told her. I will,
he thought.
I will.
His last thought
before opening his eyes was that he’d like to get his hands around the neck of
the man who first said, “Actions speak louder than words.”

In this particular case, actions weren’t worth a bucket of
warm spit. Maggie needed words, and lots of them. And that was what Adrian
dreaded most. He was not a man of words. But for Maggie, he would learn.

His mind made up, he began to think about Maggie. To his
amusement, he had spent, if not an informative, at least an entertaining half
hour with Maggie only this morning at breakfast. He smiled and shook his head,
remembering how she seemed bent upon telling him everything she had recently
learned about redwoods.

Did he know they were resistant to fire, disease, and
insects?

Yes
.

Did he know that they were nearly always protected—when they
grew close to the coastline—by a stand of Sitka spruce?

Yes
.

Did he know that they were closely related to the giant
sequoia?

Yes
.

Had he ever seen a sequoia?

Yes
.

Would he take her to see one sometime?

If she behaved herself.

To which she replied, “Oh, well, we canna always see
everything we want, can we?”

To his amazement, he found himself laughing harder at that
now than he had this morning. She amazed him with her knowledge, her
understanding of his business, her interest in it, her ability to talk
intelligently on subjects he thought of interest only to a man.

He realized then just how much he looked forward to coming
home each day, to listen to her excitement over telling him what she had done
that day, her questions about his business, her wise counsel. But, as usual,
she had surprised him.

Of late she hadn’t been around when he came home, and
whenever he asked about her whereabouts, Molly would simply say, “She’s around
here someplace.”

That bothered him. He found himself thinking about his
feelings for Maggie, how bright and shiny and new his love for her seemed. Oh,
he supposed he had loved her a lot longer than he knew, but the realization of
it—it was like holding a rainbow in your pocket.

Had it truly been recently that he had come to love her?
And
yet, when she wasn’t here, I always felt her absence. And I remembered the way
her skin felt, the smell of pine in her hair.

He hadn’t loved her.

And yet I would find myself listening for the sound of
her footsteps outside my door, the sound of her laughter when she puts the
children to bed.

He didn’t love her.

Yet I would find myself remembering how her step falls in
so well with mine, and how my eyes seem to seek her out, even in a crowd.

He didn’t love her.

Then I wonder why it was that whenever she came and went,
I would find myself staring at the place where she had been.

Maggie, Maggie, Maggie. Desire for her filled his day.
Thoughts of her kept him awake at night. Night, ever the mother of counsel.
Night, when he could get in touch with feelings he could not show. At night
there was the nagging fear that he might wait too long, that she would leave.
And that always brought up the question, if she did leave, where would she go?
She couldn’t go back to Scotland.

The reminder of Scotland brought up another point. Fletcher.
Treachery of any form didn’t sit too well with Adrian, and when it was
committed against his own, it stirred his ire. He might be isolated here in the
woods of northern California, but he knew what was going on in the world—enough
to know crimes rarely came singly. If this Adair Ramsay had the guts to plan
this flamboyant hoax, if he had the audacity to even think about stealing a
title from a duke, then he was a man to be reckoned with.

Adrian leaned back in his chair, whirling it away from the
desk, to gaze out the window. From where he sat, he could see Fletcher grooming
his gelding. The lad had an eye for horseflesh. He also had the confidence and
the bearing of a young duke. You could see good breeding in his features as
well as his manner. It occurred to Adrian just how well Fletcher had adapted to
his new life here. And Adrian was going to make sure the boy remained safe, no
matter what.

Needing to clear his mind, Adrian went outside, intending to
go for his walk along the cliffs, but when he stepped through the door, he saw
Ainsley trying to tie Heather to a cart.

“Here now,” he said, walking toward her. “You can’t tie her
to a cart with just a rope around her neck. You don’t want to choke her, do
you?”

Ainsley shook her head.

When Adrian took the rope and loosened it around her neck,
Heather’s ears went up in greeting and she let out a loud bray. “
Eeeeee—haaaaaaw.”

“Look at her now,” he said to Ainsley. “Do you see how she
put her ears up? That meant she was glad to see me. Now, if she ever puts her
ears down, that means she isn’t too happy, and if her ears are laid back along
her neck, she is telling you she is angry and might be tempted to bite you.”

Adrian ruffled Heather’s mane. “If you want her to pull this
cart for you, I’ll have you a harness made.”

He looked up at that moment and saw Maggie standing a few
feet away, looking at him in an odd way that made him self-conscious. “She was
choking the donkey,” he said hoarsely, then turned away.

Thrusting his hands deep into his pockets, Adrian wandered
along the path that wound through the rocks that lined the cliffs. The sun was
setting, a mirror of glaring white on a backdrop of deepest blue.

He heard a rock fall, tumbling and bouncing over the rocks
to splash into the surf below. Turning, he saw Ainsley and Heather following
him.

“Go away,” he said. “You shouldn’t be out here. It’s too
dangerous.” When that didn’t have the desired effect, he said, more gruffly,
“This is no place for children. Go back to the house.”

He started back down the trail, turning to look a moment later.
Ainsley and Heather were still behind him. “You heard me,” he said. “Get on
back to the house before I tan your backside. This is no place for you.”

Ainsley stood looking at him, the same way she always did.
And as he always did, Adrian turned away, walking a few more yards before
stopping and turning back to look.