Highland Warrior (38 page)
Authors: Connie Mason
Ross’s heart plummeted. “Are you saying Gillian will never love me?”
“Nay, laird, I am saying you already have her love. Go now and leave me to my work.”
Ross’s laughter followed him out the door and into the cold, crisp air. Gillian loved him. Now all he had to do was get her to admit it.
Lingering over her breakfast, Gillian conversed briefly with Gordo. She gasped in surprise when he asked, “Why are you tormenting the lad, Gillian? Any fool can see he loves you. I admit I didna think your marriage would work, but you and my nephew are matched in strength and stubbornness. I ken you love him but are too stubborn to admit it.”
Gillian swallowed hard. Was she that easy to read? “Is it so obvious?”
“It is to me, and I’m sure others ken it as well. Are you nae pleased about the bairn you’re carrying?”
“I am thrilled about the bairn, Gordo. ’Tis Ross I amna pleased with.” She hesitated, then said, “He questioned whether the bairn is his. I find it difficult to forgive him.”
“Och, the man is a fool. I know his careless words hurt you, but you canna blame him. I, too, heard you proclaim that you and Sinclair were lovers. I wasna the only witness when you renounced Ross and your marriage.”
“I explained my reasons for lying to Ross. I did it to save his life. He should have kenned I was lying.”
“Will you ever forgive him, lass?”
“Mayhap, after he has suffered a wee bit more.” She rose. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to confer with Gizela.”
Gillian left the hall in a thoughtful mood. Had Ross suffered enough? Was it time to tell him she loved him? Mayhap she should end Ross’s misery and let him make love to her—after she consulted with Gizela, of course.
Gillian located Gizela in the stillroom. She greeted the healer warmly. If not for Gizela, neither she nor Ross would be alive today.
Gizela turned at her greeting. “If people doona stop interrupting me, I will be forced to neglect my work. Are you unwell, lass?”
“I am well, and so is my baim, thanks to you, Gizela. I have a question to ask of you.”
“In truth, I was expecting you, so I will save you the trouble of asking your question and give you my answer. ”Tis time to forgive your husband. Your marriage was written in the stars long before you were born. Welcome the laird into your bed, lass. Naught he can do will harm you. Your bairn willna leave your body until the appointed time. Go now; can you nae see I am busy?”
Suppressing a smile, Gillian left the stillroom. Though most people thought Gizela a wee bit daft, her psychic powers were uncanny. Gillian didn’t doubt Gizela’s word. She believed her bairn was in no danger and that she would carry it to term, because the healer had said so.
She also knew it was time to heal her marriage, for her heart demanded it of her. She and Ross had started out as enemies and suffered through countless trials and tribulations to be together. The time had come to make things right between them.
The day flew by as Gillian went about her duties. The linens were counted and the stores inspected. Everything was in good order. Gillian spoke to Hanna about preparing a special meal that evening and serving it to her and Ross in the solar. They would dine alone tonight, with naught to distract them.
Gillian ordered a bath and soaked in the tub until the water cooled. Afterward, Alice brushed out her hair and helped her into a filmy night rail and chamber robe. Then she ordered the tub emptied and refilled with clean water for Ross.
After Alice and the servants left, Gillian walked to the window and watched the snow fall, her mind stumbling over the words she wanted to say to Ross tonight. After long minutes of silent contemplation, she decided to say whatever was in her heart.
Ross entered the hall in a rush of cold air and blowing snow. He stomped the snow from his boots and headed for the hearth to warm his bones. He and the lads had had a busy day. They had rescued several head of cattle from snowdrifts, rounded up a few lost sheep, and delivered feed so the livestock wouldn’t starve.
Ross was warming his backside when he noticed that Gillian wasn’t in the hall. Disappointment rode him; he had hoped his wife would be on hand to greet him. Disappointment turned to concern. Had Gillian taxed her strength her first day out of bed?
He strode to the staircase; Alice met him on the bottom landing. “Your lady is waiting for you in the solar, laird.”
Gillian was waiting for him? Had he heard aright? Though Ross had no idea what to expect, he took the stairs two at a time. He burst into the solar, his gaze searching the chamber for his wife. The first thing he saw was a tub of steaming water sitting before the hearth.
“Gillian? Alice said ...”
His words fell silent when Gillian turned away from the window and greeted him with a smile. “I’m glad you’re home, Ross.”
Ross felt as if the floor had dissolved beneath his feet. Gillian was dressed informally in night rail and robe, her long hair framing her face in a halo of living flame. What was she up to now? Didn’t she know she was tormenting him?
“You must be frozen,” Gillian said. “The bath is for you. Shall I help you disrobe?”
Gillian wanted to help him undress? He blinked. Had he heard aright? Had the cold frozen his brain? “Are you well, sweeting?”
Slowly Gillian walked toward Ross, her gaze intent upon his face. “l am verra well, thank you. Let me take your plaid. Your bathwater is growing cold.”
Ross watched warily as Gillian removed the woolen plaid from his shoulders and helped him out of his jacket. When she undid the strings at the neck of his shirt and pulled it over his head, he felt his cock grow hard and his body clamor with desperate need. Seeing Gillian like this reminded him why she was the only woman he wanted, the woman he would protect and love the rest of his life. Was she finally willing to be a wife to him again? Was she ready to release him from his misery?
Words failed him as he pulled Gillian against him, letting her feel the thick ridge of his need. His heart thudded wildly when, instead of resisting, she melted into his embrace and raised her face for his kiss. Ross didn’t hesitate. Lowering his head, he met her lips, savoring her sweet taste while his tongue ravished her tenderly. Something had changed Gillian, and he wasn’t going to question it.
Long moments later Ross drew back, his voice hoarse with need as he whispered against her lips, “I want to love you, wife. My body aches for you.”
“I want that too,” Gillian breathed, “Bathe first. Then we can talk, and afterward we will make love.”
“Or we can love first and then talk while I bathe,” Ross suggested, as eager as a green boy to be inside his wife again, to feel her body writhe against his.
“We have a lifetime to love,” Gillian replied.
A lifetime; the word was music to Ross’s ears. “Then I had best get on with the bathing.” He chuckled.
Ross finished disrobing and climbed into the tub. Gillian knelt behind him, rubbed soap on a cloth, and began scrubbing his back. When she moved around to his chest, Ross’s cock jerked upright in reaction. He didn’t know how much of this sweet torment he could stand.
“Give me that,” Ross said, snatching the cloth from her hand. “I had best wash myself. Fetch the drying cloth. I can wait no longer for my wife.”
Gillian retrieved the drying cloth from the hearthstone and handed it to Ross. Smiling, he rose from the tub. Water streamed from his powerful body; his cock thrust upward from a nest of ebony curls. His face stark with unconcealed desire, he held out his arms so she could dry him.
Her hands shaking, Gillian ran the cloth over his warrior’s body, loving the way it hardened beneath her touch. She had missed Ross, missed his body next to hers in bed, yearned for his kisses, his passion.
“What did I do to earn your forgiveness?” Ross asked. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you. This mom you were implacable and unforgiving. I was at my wit’s end.”
Gillian dropped the drying cloth and met his probing gaze. “We are nae enemies, Ross. Though my heart was sorely hurt, I realized that rejecting you wasna the answer. Before I could heal, I needed to forgive.” She took a steadying breath. “I do love you, Ross, and I forgive you. I have loved you for a verra long time. My father must have kenned that we would suit before he proposed uniting our clans. But we needed to learn that for ourselves.”
Ross closed his eyes to better savor her words. When he opened them, Gillian was smiling at him, her green eyes misty with unshed tears. “You are wise for your years, Gillian MacKay. I loved you as a warrior woman, but I love you better as the mother of my bairns.”
“No more talk, Ross. Just love me. Almost dying has shown me that life is too short to waste on pettiness. You have apologized, and I believe you have suffered enough. I have suffered enough.” She lifted her arms to him.
Groaning, Ross enfolded her in his embrace, bent his head, and kissed her, his fingers twining in her fiery hair to hold her head in place. He ravished her mouth until they were both breathless, and then he lowered her onto the fur rug before the hearth.
Trembling with need, he knelt beside her, untied the belt of her robe, and pulled it free. Then he rid her of her night rail, baring her glowing white flesh to his appreciative gaze. The gripping need inside him tightened. His breath came heavily as he kissed her mouth, her throat, her breasts. He wanted to devour her, every precious inch.
His voice vibrated hotly against the quivering flesh of her stomach as he said, “I want to taste you.”
He stared into her eyes as his hands slid beneath her to cup the twin globes of her buttocks, his fingers slowly squeezing and kneading. The throbbing between her legs intensified; she arched violently when his thumbs parted her feminine folds, stroked, and slowly circled the tiny hidden nub of her sex.
“Ross ...” The word died in her throat when Ross bent and pressed his mouth against her dewy cleft. A jolt of pleasure shot through her. Gasping, she went rigid.
Ross lifted his head and gazed at her so intently, Gillian felt scorched by it. She reached up and stroked his cheek. “I love you, Ross.”
“I love you more, Gillian MacKay.”
Spreading her thighs, he bent to her again and captured her sweet essence with his mouth. He licked her swollen flesh, holding her grinding hips in place as he laved her with his tongue, his mouth sucking softly in a heated kiss.
Gillian cried out, rising to meet the invading lash of his rough tongue as he teased, licked, and stabbed liquid flame inside her. Sensation overwhelmed her, ravished her senses. An exquisite pleasure so intense it bordered on pain shot through her. She convulsed as his tongue continued to flick in and out, piercing her with fire.
Tamping down his grinding need, Ross probed and nibbled to his heart’s content. Her hot, sweet taste was intoxicating; her musky scent drove him wild. His body was ready to burst. He thrust his tongue deep inside her one last time and nearly lost control when she cried out, her hips thrusting up to meet his feasting mouth. Her climax released a primitive surge of love and lust inside him. Her cry of completion thrilled him. That he could satisfy his warrior woman so well was a sweet reward. That she could satisfy him so completely was even sweeter. He held her and kissed her as she writhed and twisted beneath him.
When the last tremor had passed, he tenderly placed a kiss on her stomach, marveling that his bairn could be growing within her slender body. “Are you all right, love? I didna harm the bairn, did I?”
Panting softly, Gillian said, “Our bairn is strong. Loving me willna hurt him.”
That was all Ross needed to hear. He placed a final kiss against her moist center, stretched over her, and settled in the cradle of her hips. His pulse pounding, he sank slowly into her, using teeth-grinding caution lest he hurt her. Her thighs clenched around him in joyful welcome.
“Can you take all of me, lass? Are you sure it willna hurt you or our bairn?”
“I amna a fragile blossom, Ross.”
Slowly, with great care, he penetrated her fully. He groaned and shuddered. She felt even better than she tasted.
His mouth settled over hers. Gillian tasted her scent on his lips and on his tongue. Her hands clutched at his broad back, and she writhed as he slid inside her. Her back arched, her eyes closing as her body caught fire again. She was only dimly aware of his voice murmuring love words against her mouth. This bold warrior of hers displayed his tender side as he told her he loved her, that he couldn’t live without her.
She clung to him, frantic with need, with hunger, with a passion that matched his. Moments later the incredible tension exploded, her ragged cry of completion piercing the stillness.
Ross stiffened and clamped his teeth together, his eyes closing as pleasure, so raw and so primitive it nearly undid him, ripped through him. He shouted her name, his body clenching and shuddering as he poured himself into her.
Fearing he would crush her, Ross rose up on trembling arms and lifted his suddenly boneless body off and away. Once his strength returned, he rose, lifted her into his arms, and carried her to their bed.
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