Highland Sinner (34 page)

“But your father died years ago, didnae he? Why didnae it occur to ye then?”

“Because ye were doing so weel all on your own. I did consider telling ye then, but I felt ye shouldered enough burdens—what with the child left on your threshold, people whispering that ye are a witch, and every fool for miles believing ye were a lass who was free with her favors, and thus easy game. I also inherited my father’s reputation for having too many women too often. Ye didnae need to be tainted by that. When I heard ye had been attacked by those killers, I did entertain the thought of riding to your rescue, but Sir Tormand got there first.”

He leaned forward, rested his arms on his knees and studied her very closely. “Just what is Sir Tormand Murray to ye?”

Everything
, she thought, but did not say so. “Since ye seem to ken so much about me, I suspicion ye have heard that I have visions.” He nodded. “I was having ones concerning these killings and thought they might help in finding out who the murderers were. They also showed me that Tormand was nay the killer.

Simon and Tormand agreed that the visions might help. When the killers turned their attentions my way, both men felt I, and Walin, would be much safer if we stayed with them.”

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“Verra prettily said. The truth, but nay all of it.” He held up one long, elegant hand to still her protests. “It doesnae matter now. We can, mayhap, discuss that later.”

“Mayhap. I am nay sure why your reputation would hold ye back. I am called a witch, am kenned to be a bastard, and am thought to have had a bastard child. Having a brother who is said to be a lecherous swine wouldnae have done me much added harm.”

“I didnae say I had thought the matter out verra carefully.” He sat back, crossed his arms over his chest, and scowled at the fireplace. “I hadnae realized how much I counted on ye, weel, to just be there, until I thought ye might die. I didnae want to be alone,” he added quietly.

Morainn fought back the urge to hug him, fully understanding what he had been feeling. It was too soon for such closeness, for such signs of sisterly affection. She did not know much about the man except for the good deed he had done for her and his sordid reputation. She needed more before she let go of the wariness she had learned at a very young age.

“What about your harem?” She grinned when he glared at her. “Hard to be alone with a harem.”

Adam looked at this woman who was both stranger and sister to him and realized she was teasing him. It felt both odd and good. No one teased him; no one had ever teased him, not even his father. Thinking on what little he had observed of the Murrays each time he had come to try to see Morainn, he realized it must be one of those things families did. It might take some getting used to, he decided.

“I dinnae have one. Ne’er have. One woman at a time is enough trouble for any mon.”

“Ouch.” The way he looked—as if he did not know what to do with her—amused Morainn for a moment, but she quickly grew serious again. “What do ye expect of me?”

“I am nay sure.”

And that, she realized, was not something that afflicted this man very often. “May I continue to stay at the cottage?”

“Ah, of course, but does that mean that ye willnae be staying with Sir Tormand?”

“He hasnae asked me to.”

“Should I act the older brother and do something about that?”

“I would rather ye didnae.”

“As ye wish.”

Morainn could hear the silent
for now
in his deep voice, but decided there was no need to get into an argument over the matter now.

He held out his hand. “So—do we begin to learn how to be kin?”

She smiled and took his hand in hers. “Why not?” She laughed when he hugged her and felt just a little of her heart’s pain ease.

Tormand heard her laughter and sighed. He was happy for her, but a brother could prove to be a problem for him. It was past time he sorted out his relationship with Morainn, before her newfound brother stuck his nose into the matter.

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Chapter 19

Warm lips touched the hollow of her throat and Morainn sighed. She had not been able to push Tormand out of her dreams, but none of those dreams had felt as real as this one. Lightly calloused hands covered her breasts and she arched up into their warmth. She had thought about making love with Tormand one last time before returning to her cottage, but had not yet decided if that was a particularly wise thing to do. After a week of healing and getting to know her brother, however, plus the four days of sleeping through the worst of her injuries and three days of just trying to stay awake for more than a few hours at a time, she was starved for Tormand’s touch.

“Morainn,” Tormand whispered in her ear. “Wake up, love. I want ye awake and eager for me as we make love.”

That voice was not in her head as a dream-voice ought to be, Morainn decided. It had been whispered against her ear, each word sending a little brush of warm air to caress it. Morainn opened her eyes to find Tormand smiling down at her. They were also both naked. The decision about whether or not to add one more heated memory to the others she had of this man had been made. Now that he was in her arms, she did not have the will to let him go. All too soon her arms would be empty again, and stay empty.

“Ye are a verra sneaky mon,” she said.

“More a verra desperate, needy mon,” he said, as he nibbled at her lips. “It has been too long.”

“Far too long,” she agreed and kissed him.

The welcome in her kiss, the hunger lurking there that equaled his own, was all the invitation Tormand needed. He had reined in his need for her as she had healed and he now loosed those reins. He wanted to devour her, to bury himself deep within her again and again. Then he wanted to rest for a while and start the dance all over again. However, this time he would have to sate his hunger for her only once, at least until after they had supped and could share a bed again. There were things he had to do concerning their future together, plans that needed to be made and he could not delay them any longer.

In truth, what he wanted was for her to love him, but he was not willing to wait until she did to claim her as his own. She cared for him. He was certain of it. She also shared his desire. It would be enough for now. And right now, he would make love to her until she cried out her need for him, reminding her of all that they did share.

After kissing her until she was breathless and clinging to him, Tormand began to kiss his way down her slender body. He lavished attention on her full breasts until she was panting and arching against him, and then he turned his full attention to her other sweet spot. He lingered over each scar on his way to the prize he sought, determined to show her that they did not matter to him, did not dim her beauty in his eyes at all.

Ever so gently he kissed his way down the scar on the inside of her right thigh and then up the scar on the left thigh. When he kissed the soft curls between her beautiful legs, her whole body jerked. A firm grip on her legs kept her from pulling away. A moment later he felt her tension, her lingering shock over such intimacy, fade away and she opened herself to his greedy attentions. Tormand proceeded to drive her to the heights of pleasure again and again without allowing her to tumble down.

“Tormand,” Morainn moaned out his name, “cease this torture.”

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He grinned against her taut, silken belly despite the fact that his whole body shook with the need to be inside her. “Torture, is it?” he asked, as he slowly kissed his way up her body.

“Tormand,” she snapped, and wrapped her legs tightly around him as soon as she felt his hard manhood brush against that place where she so badly ached for it to be. “Now.”

“Demanding wench.”

He murmured the words against her mouth and caught her gasp of delight as he swiftly joined their bodies. Tormand tried to go slowly, but Morainn’s hunger for him snapped what little control he had.

With a soft growl, he began to move hard and fast, pushing them both to those delirious heights with an urgency he had never known before.

Morainn glanced at the man sprawled on his back at her side. Her body still hummed with satisfaction and yet she could feel her hunger for him stirring to life again as she looked over his tall, strong body.

Tormand Murray had turned her into a complete wanton, she thought, and felt no distress over that fact.

She recalled how he had staggered from the bed, fetched a damp cloth, washed them both clean, and then collapsed back onto the bed as if he had used the last of his strength just to do that one little thing. It gave her pride a nice stroking to think that she had put the renowned lover into such a state.

Looking at his manhood nestled limply in the nest of auburn curls between his strong thighs, she idly wondered if she could do something with it that would make him as crazed with desire as his intimate kisses had made her. She turned onto her side and draped her arm around his trim waist. When he opened his eyes, she smiled at him innocently even as she began to plot his downfall.

“We still need to talk about Walin,” he said, his voice still husky from the passion they had just shared.

That was the very last thing Morainn wanted to do. She lightly trailed her fingers up and down his hip and thigh. Out of the corner of her eye she could see a twitching of interest between his legs.

Tormand ignored how his body responded to her idle caress. He had to go to court soon and he was determined to get the matter of Walin settled. It was not a good time to discuss all he wanted and needed from her, all his hopes and plans, but in talking about Walin’s future he could, perhaps, hint at a future for them. It might be enough to keep her at his side until he could make her fall in love with him.

“I thought we could share the raising of him.” He felt the barest hint of faltering in the light, teasing caress she tempted him with. “Walin thinks it a fine plan. He wants both of us in his life.”

“And what do ye want?” she asked.

I want that small hand to move a wee bit to the left, he thought, but bit back the words and said, “The lad needs a family.”

“Then he shall have one. As much a one as we can give him.”

He had to take a deep breath to steady himself when, as if she had read his mind, she moved her hand and curled those long fingers of hers around his rapidly hardening manhood. “I think we could do weel by him.”

His words made her think of marriage, of a future, of love and bairns with mismatched eyes. She forced such dreams aside. There had been no proposal of marriage, no words of love. She would not add to her pain by filling her head with foolish hopes and dreams. Worse, if she misunderstood what he was saying,
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expected more than he was offering, she could easily make a complete fool of herself.

Feeling him harden to soft, silken steel in her hand, she decided she would distract him from talk of Walin and family. Morainn licked his belly and heard him groan. Tormand, she decided, might prove very easy to distract, perhaps even as easy as she was.

Tormand wanted to discuss Walin and their future before he had to go and do his duty to his family by strolling around the court and trying to talk to people who could help his clan either through some sort of alliance or through a profitable venture of some kind. The feel of Morainn’s mouth on his skin, her soft hand stroking him, was making it difficult to think clearly, let alone speak. When she kissed the insides of his thighs his whole body tensed in eager and hopeful anticipation. He could not stop himself from jerking in surprise and fierce pleasure when she finally pressed those soft, warm lips against his erection.

“Wrong?” she asked, even as she started to move away.

“Nay,” he said as he thrust his fingers into her thick hair and silently urged her back to finish what she had started. “Right. Verra right.”

Morainn continued to make love to him with her mouth, judging which touch, which kiss, which stroke of her tongue he liked best by his very vocal appreciation. She discovered that making love to him like this stirred her own passions, making her more daring, more eager to drive him to even greater heights of pleasure. When he asked her to take him into her mouth, she barely hesitated before doing so and discovered that she had as much power over his body as he did over hers.

A squeak of protest and surprise escaped her when he suddenly grabbed her under the arms and dragged her up his body. Dazed by her own tumultuous desires, it took her a moment to understand what he wanted her to do. When she finally began to ease herself down on him, taking him inside of her ever so slowly, she gasped at how good it felt. With his whispered encouragement stroking her ears, she rode him until they grasped the release they both craved and their cries of satisfaction blended like the sweetest of songs.

Memories of her lovemaking with Tormand made Morainn smile as she slowly woke up. She reached out only to find the linen cool and empty where his big warm body had once rested and she sighed. It was for the best, she told herself sternly. There would be no need for any confrontation now. She could simply pack up her belongings and go home.

Forcing herself to get out of bed, she got herself ready to face what she knew would be a very long day.

As she went down to the hall to break her fast she tried to decide what to say to Walin. She was not surprised to find him seated at the table, a full plate in front of him. Walin loved to eat and Nora’s kinswomen were very good cooks. What did surprise her was that Adam was also there. The man had been to see her many times since the day he had told her he was her brother, but never so early in the morning. She eyed him a little warily as she sat down and filled her plate.