His Bonnie Bride (39 page)

Just sitting near him was causing her insides to curl and melt. It was hard to keep up her icy attitude. What she longed to do was hurl herself into his arms and stay there until he doused the fire that had burned in her for months. Simply breathing in the clean male scent of him was driving her to distraction.

For a while at least Tavis knew relief from that torment. The first time of holding his son and then his daughter had cleared his mind of all else. With a sense of wonder, he touched them all over, from their silky curls to their tiny toes. In a time when a healthy baby was a blessing he found himself with two.

In an age where men had little to do with babies, Storm noticed there was yet another similarity between her family and Tavis's. The MacLagans felt no shame in holding a baby and taking delight in him. Her children were soon making the rounds amongst their Scottish kin. As she had with her father, Storm watched large calloused hands that could wield a sword with deadly precision handle the babies with gentle, loving firmness. The MacLagans, as Eldon did, saw that the future lay in these babies, that there was no loss of manliness in the enjoyment of children who were God's promise of the continuity of man.

With his arms now empty of child, Tavis rapidly regained the need to wrap them around Storm. Sitting at his side and sipping a tankard of ale, she gave him no encouragement to do so. It was hard to believe that she had ever lain awake aching for him.

"I have held my bairns. Now I wish to speak with ye."

"Are ye sure there's time? The day hastens on. Ye must not get behind in your wenching."

"God's teeth, Storm, I havenae been wenching," he ground out, his hands clenching into fists.

"Really?" she drawled, glaring at him. "I suppose ye were just counting Katerine's teeth with your tongue to save getting your fingers wet." She was mostly unaware of the badly smothered laughter her remark brought.

"Now it starts," murmured Colin as he sat down next to Eldon, and there was laughter in his voice.

"I enjoy Storm in full rage," mused Eldon. "She does have a way with words."

"Takes after her father," Colin said quietly, and grinned when Eldon sent him a mock scowl.

"Nay," Tavis snapped, "but I willnae explain that afore all these people. I want some privacy."

Storm finished her ale, slammed her tankard down upon the table and leapt to her feet. "Ye can have all the privacy ye wish, but I will not join ye. Well do I know your tricks, Tavis MacLagan."

"So ye should," he sneered as he rose to stand before her, "ye askit for them oft enough."

"E'en the mundane is craved when one is bored," she purred, forcing herself not to blush.

Elaine gasped softly. "Roden, is this not getting very personal? Should you not send them out of here?"

"Nay, personal is the best sort of argument," Eldon replied gleefully, grinning when Colin nodded in vigorous agreement. "Worry not, Elaine."

Realizing that his temper was rising,

Tavis fought to rein it in. "I do not want to argue with you."

That was not good news to Storm. "And I do not wish to talk to ye. Not at all."

"Weel ye will, bitch, and ye will heed what I say." Tavis gave up trying to keep a hold on his temper.

"Oh, aye, and well do you know bitches since ye have no doubt come from the arms of the greatest one in all of Scotland. Well, if ye have any pretty lies ye wish to spout, I am sure Kate will listen well."

" 'Od's wounds, woman, I havenae seen Kate since ye and your brother threatened to skewer her."

"She called Storm a whore," murmured Colin when Roden sent his eldest son a reproachful look.

"Oh, that makes a difference." Roden smiled at Andrew. "Has he been bedding this Katerine?"

"Nay," Colin replied as Storm dramatically expressed her regrets concerning Katerine MacBroth's continued good health. "I think Storm caught him making his first effort. She was only about for a fortnight. The lad's had no other woman since he set eyes on Storm that day. I would swear to it."

"If ye had listened instead o' hurling dirks," Tavis began as he followed her retreat to a window.

"I did not want to listen to ye. I do not want to listen to ye. I listened one too many times. 'Tis all empty words and useless promises." She stared out the window, saying softly, "When I craved your voice it was silent. The second time I was prepared to listen, hoping for even empty words, ye had your mouth otherwise occupied."

Tavis paled slightly. That was a piece of news that Roden had not put into his letter, believing it too cruel to let Tavis know that he had missed yet another chance. Nor had he told Tavis that it was more his choice of wench than his wenching, but Tavis had begun to see that for himself. To know that one kiss that he had had to work at to enjoy had brought him yet another four months of hell, had kept him from Storm's side when she had borne their children and had caused him to miss their birth, tore at his insides. He wondered if any man had paid so dearly for such a minor thing. The knowledge did very little for his tenuous grasp on control.

Whatever he might have answered was lost as their son set up a wail. It mattered little to the baby what important subjects were being discussed. He was hungry. His cry started his sister's face to crumbling as she recalled how long it had been since she had eaten.

Sighing, Storm went to collect Taran from his uncle, Sholto, who looked startled at the boy's volume. Elaine collected Aingeal and followed Storm out of the hall, wondering what would happen next. Storm was simply glad for the diversion and the chance to elude Tavis.

"Are you going to just stand there like a pile of cow droppings?"

Glaring at his father-in-law, Tavis snapped, "She has to feed the bairns."

"I am sure she will reveal naught that you are unfamiliar with," Roden said dryly. "Unless you are a complete fool, as I begin to suspect, you will realize that it will occur to her that her chambers, securely locked, are a good place to be if she does not want to hear you any longer."

For a moment Tavis stood torn between defending himself against Roden's softly spoken insult and following the man's advice. "I can see where she gets it from," he growled, and strode out of the hall.

"What do ye think his chances are?" asked Sholto after Tavis had gone.

"Storm cannot avoid him with a babe at her breast, and she will try to stay calm since she will be holding a babe. That gives him a good bit of an edge." Eldon grinned. "Then, too, soon as her arms are empty of child, he can jump her. When it comes to wives if all else fails, seduce them." He raised his tankard along with the other laughing men. " 'Twill be a while ere we see those two again."

Seduce was a mild word for what Tavis wanted to do when he saw Storm with Taran at her breast. He shut the door after Elaine's retreating figure and tried not to lunge at his wife. For an instant he was fiercely jealous of his son, whose small hands touched that ivory fullness, whose mouth worked greedily at the nipple and whose plump little body was held so lovingly in slim arms, all of which Tavis ached for. Telling himself not to be absurd, he forced his eyes to meet hers and his mind to think of other things.

The fire was still in his eyes, however, and Storm, recognizing it, felt her body flare in response, which did not please her at all. "Do ye not recognize when a battle is lost, MacLagan?"

"Is it lost? I prefer to think not. Listen to me first, little one. It cannae hurt."

Her gaze fell to her son's head and stayed there. She did not want to listen, but she knew she was caught. Tavis faltered briefly, unsure of how to begin. Taking a deep breath, he simply plunged in.

"I kenned as soon as ye set off after the battle that I had made a verra great mistake. But think, Storm, your father had just aided us in saving our keep no matter what his reasons. Was I to say all that had gone atween us when the blood lust o' battle still flowed hot through all o' us? The blood o' both our families would soon have stained the ground."

"Ye would have me believe ye acted out of noble reasons?" she queried in soft sarcasm.

"Nay, though 'twas part of what held me silent. I will be honest, Storm. I wanted ye in my bed, didnae want ye to leave it, but I didnae ken that I wanted any more than that. Thinking that, I couldnae speak to Eldon. Ye cannae ask a man to let ye use his daughter, his only daughter and firstborn child, as your mistress. I didnae ken what I wanted until ye were gone and then, e'en then, 'twas awhile ere it was verra clear."

"Yet ye sent me nary a word." She put a drowsy Taran in the cradle and began to feed Aingeal.

"What I wanted didnae change anything as I saw it. Ye were still Eldon and still English. E'en had he kenned we had been lovers, your father would nay welcome my suit. An English Marcher lord doesnae wed his only daughter to a Scot, a border reiver, be he of equal rank or nay. Ye cannae fault me for thinking that."

She stared down at Aingeal as she thought over his words. It all seemed very logical. Tavis said nothing, letting her think for a time, for he knew the strength of that particular reasoning. It was all the rest of his actions that would be harder to explain.

"Ye did not grieve long, though, did ye, Tavis."

"I did, lass. From the time ye rode off with your kin until ye appeared to tell me I would soon be a father, I was ill tempered and soddened with drink near all the time. I cursed ye for leaving, then cursed myself for letting ye go. At times I thought ye should come to me while other times I wanted to besiege Hagaleah to get ye back. I hated ye one instant and unmanned myself with the wanting of ye the next, yet kenning that it was all over for us."

Storm stood up, placed Aingeal in the cradle and, with her back toward Tavis, gently washed her breasts. "And so ye decided to bury this grief in the woman who nearly saw to my death at Sir Hugh's hands. Aye, and your babe's too."

"Nay, Storm." He moved to stand before her when she sat upon the bed to relace her bodice. "Kate had come to Caraidland but a fortnight ere ye did. She was all that was sweet and understanding."

"I am sure she was," Storm snapped. "Quite prepared to soothe your much-battered soul, I wager."

"Aye, but I took little notice of it until that day, curse my luck." Storm had abruptly halted her relacing to stare at him, and he fought to ignore the exposed swell of her exquisite breasts. "I spent far too many nights sleeping with the memory of something sweet I thought lost to me forever. Then, too, I was in one of my moods o' hating ye, cursing ye for putting me through such a hell. God's wounds, Storm. I ached for ye, lay awake nights twisting with it. I lived with that ache for three months. Dreams couldnae ease that."

The tone of his voice as well as the fact that he was describing a hell she knew intimately held Storm enthralled. Even so, a cold tongue of fear curled around her insides, fear that he would soon reveal that he had made use of the very available Kate. Understand she might, but that understanding would not lessen the blow.

Tavis read the fear in her wide eyes and reached out to touch her face. He felt a flare of hope when she did not jerk away, but remained still, amber eyes locked with his own. It was proving easier than he had thought it would be to reveal so much of his inner self. Easier still when such a coveted reward drew nearer.

"I'll nay deny I planned to use her." He felt her flinch beneath his fingers. "Aye, I was telling myself the lie that I could ease the intolerable nights, wear myself out in Kate so that I could sleep at last without ye torturing my dreams. It was going to be a struggle, little one. I kenned that ere I finished kissing the woman. I had to fight to ignite a tiny spark, but I was determined to end my days as a monkish fool tied to a dream. Ah, Storm, I swear I have touched no woman since ye. On my honor, I swear it."

She believed him then. Slowly, her fingers as unsteady as the ones that traced her upturned face, she began to unlace her gown. He said nothing as she stood and shed her clothing piece by piece.

"Ye look a hungry man, Tavis MacLagan," she said softly as she began to unlace his tunic.

"Near dead o' starvation," he rasped as his hands moved lightly over her lithe frame, and he pried his shoes from his feet using the toe-to-heel method. "This vision is all that has kept me sane."

Her lips moved over his chest, bringing feral sounds of pleasure to his throat. Unlacing his braes, she let them fall, hearing him kick them away. Sitting down on the bed, her kisses moved to his taut abdomen as her hands unlaced his chausses. When they fell and he kicked them away she made no attempt to hide her admiration for him. Reality was so much better than a dream.

"A vision of this, Tavis?" she murmured as her tongue played with his navel, her hands moving gently over his taut backside. "Or this?" she whispered as her kisses moved lower.

A strangled cry escaped him as her gifted tongue paid homage to his passion. When he felt her draw him into the moist heat of her mouth he nearly fell to his knees. It proved too much for his starved senses. Burying his hands in her hair, he pulled her away, bending to kiss her gently. He then crouched before her, aching with the need for possession, but needing even more than that.

Storm shuddered as his mouth moved hungrily over her breasts, latching onto each hardened nub with ill-concealed greed. Her hands touched all of him that she could reach. When his kisses moved over her stomach and lower she tensed, still unused to that depth of intimacy, but he forestalled her attempts to push him away.

"Nay," he rasped as he nuzzled the silken, copper vee. "I need to ken the taste o' ye again."

The hands that caressed her slim thighs pushed them apart as he knelt by the bed. Storm blushed beneath his gaze. As his hand caressed and probed, she sat engulfed with embarrassment even as she felt exhilaratingly bold and beautiful. When his lips touched her she cried out and fell back onto the bed, her eyes closing with the pleasure that flowed over her in waves, bringing his name to her tongue in a moan of need.

Tavis held her steady as she bucked and writhed. He was insatiable. Storm felt the culmination of their passion upon her and tried to move away, but he held her still.