His Judas Bride (35 page)

Tilting her head, she advanced the last few yards onto the shingle. If he heard her now, what was he going to do exactly?

“What the…”

His language, as always on seeing her, was something he fought to control. At least surprise had the decency to glint beneath his eyelids. Hopefully a good sign. That and the fact he didn’t grit.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Although his eyes did freeze. “Where’s Arland?”

He tried to rise but she moved forward and straddled him, pressing her hands against his shoulders to stop him. It was typical he should think he could be of service to her. And he could. Just not in the way he thought.

“With Meg. At your house. Never mind Arland just now.”

Talking of Arland like this made her look bad. She knew it. Her heart beat so fast just thinking it.

But this was not going to be easy. A ready-made family was something she had never envisaged, even in her wildest dreams. She would have no family at all, however, if she did not win back this man. It would be just her and Arland.

It was not
just
exactly.
Just
was the wrong word to use when she considered how deeply she had hungered for her son, through nights too dark to contemplate. But tomorrow was time to know him. Tonight was time for keeping this.

Besides, the way Fallon had dragged Arland about with her the entire afternoon was not displeasing. For perhaps the first time ever Arland had another child to play with.

Her boots had fallen loose, and she kicked them free, hearing them tumble to the ground. “You said I was to get in touch with you, if I’d any reason.”

If she’d said she was to sprout a pair of wings and now, and not only had she done it, but could fly about the cave, he could not have looked more astonished. Of course she had told him there wasn’t a reason, so it was small wonder he now tried to jerk upright.

“But you—you… All right.” He drew down his brows. “What is it?”

He thought this was another ploy on her part, didn’t he? Well, he was mistaken.

“This.”

Before he could stop her, she grasped the sides of his face and pressed her lips to his, her fingers tangling in his hair. Given a choice, she might have tried talking, but enough time had been wasted. She had already determined it was her best, if not the only, weapon to use, should she be in any danger of failing. Besides he tasted so good. Even better than earlier, her mouth had no trouble, although his response—well, if she stopped to think about his response, or rather his squirming lack of it, she’d go away again.

“And you want to know how I see this working? This is how I see it working.” Edging her lips away she deliberately opened his tunic to expose the hard wall of his chest. “Because if I can be persuaded to let you in my bed, I think you can return the compliment, I know you have reason to find this as difficult as me.”

“You can’t know.”

“I do know.” She bent her head. As ever his chest tasted as good as his mouth. So good a flame shot through her. Although she knew she had to keep control, she felt that gradual melting of mouth and skin. It was all she could do not to lick him, but until she said what she had to, that might be her undoing.

“I know how much you loved Morven. How you fell apart. How you’ve been trying not to love again. And I also know that I came to this glen and was lost. You saved me. You saved us both.”

“Princess.” He turned his face aside. Not entirely in that way he had that first night. But not far from it. Maybe he was flattered, maybe he was aroused for that matter, but it wasn’t enough for him to succumb. And now he didn’t just try to rise again. He succeeded. Indeed he shot up as if she bit him.

“I love you.”

The knowledge forced a panicked declaration of the words. Not as she meant to say them. She would be lying through her teeth if she told herself it was the actual intimate scenario she had imagined. It didn’t matter. What mattered was the sense of feeling this slip away from her, of being compelled against her will to accept something she could not accept. What mattered was that she refused to allow her voice to betray anything other than her rising passion.

“Do you understand that? Not because you rescued my son. I love you because of the kind of man you are.”

“You can’t.”

How like him to think that. But she did. She loved him regardless for the things he’d taught her. The lesson that meant she was capable of this. That he held himself back because of it, only made him seem more honorable in that instant somehow. Even if she hadn’t already, in that second she would have forgiven him anything. Even stealing her heart. She flicked a tendril of hair back from her forehead.

“And I promise, I promise not to breathe a word, about any of these things I know, if you’ll just…just give me due treatment as your wife. It’s all I want.”

“Hell. Son of a whore, Kara, that’s blackmail. You little—”

She clasped the sides of his face and slammed her mouth on his before he could finish. She had to do this. She had to win here, or she’d die. He was losing restraint, and her blood began to beat as through the layers of the inky blue gown she felt his body harden beneath her, his mouth start to respond to the relentless pressure of her own.

Relief, a powerful aphrodisiac, swept into every part of her. At last, she had him completely at her mercy, in terms of his own body’s response. And oh, thank God, it was sweet. So sweet, she hardly knew that she had brought him back down on the bed again and they kissed in this hot, sensuous, open-mouthed way. His hands, which had moved to push her away, instead curved her thighs, at the juncture with her body.

“And you…you obviously love me.” Moving her mouth away, she edged her fingers between the hot press of their bodies, to squeeze his manhood, rock hard and wanting of her touch beneath the casing of his breeches. “So you won’t mind if this is how it works. Or if I blackmail you. Because, believe me, it’s going to work.”

She captured his mouth with hers again, and delight surged that this time he let her. Let her undo his breeches too. Her people would need to understand something, she thought, as she edged her hand inside. No matter the rebuilding to be done, this man, with all his needs and complexities, came first. Because part of her would always be Kara McGurkie, who spent four days in the total seclusion of this cave with him, doing hot, delicious things it made her blood roar to recollect. And all of her would always love him.

“Princess,” he groaned, after a few seconds, at the very back of his throat.

She didn’t know if she’d ever seen him look like that. Or sound like it either. Quietly impassioned, in a way that made her want all of him at once and long for that moment too.

“What?”

“You’re such a damned hussy. You know that?”

“But you like it. So you won’t compl—”

The breath left her body in a gulp, as he flipped her onto her back in one swift move.

“Man’s prerogative.”

She wasn’t going to object, what with the heat from his body that flooded her. His eyes surveyed her, devoured her. She might have been a tasty piece of meat and him a starving bear. The look was so heated, yet sweet. She couldn’t imagine anything more delicious than his breath brushing her lips, the ends of his hair tickling her cheeks. Well, she could, which was why she parted her lips with the anticipation that swept, like a fever, through her body, the pores of her skin tightening in a dangerously intoxicating arousal.

“What did I tell you before, you impertinent tinker baggage? About you telling me what to think?”

He edged his hand beneath her skirt and she gasped. Oh, she was a hussy, wasn’t she, because she couldn’t even answer him. And it was delicious.

“And you really left”—he quirked his lips in that playful way that always set her pulses dancing—“Arland with Meg?”

“Foolish, I know. But I thought our marriage should be consummated.”

All she could think as his fingers next worked their way up her bare thigh was what he was going to do to her now she’d finally managed to bring him back from wherever it was he’d gone. “So, Arland and Fallon could do with brothers and sisters. You Brotherhood men could be redundant now. What else will you be doing to occupy your time?”

“Hmm. Good question, sweetheart. Probably as well I have you.”

In that second the world dropped away. She didn’t bother to deny that would be anything less than the fulfillment of her dreams. If she succeeded here, the rest would all take care of itself. By inches and degrees.

“I just want to be happy.”

“You will be.”

He looked down at her face, and she gulped. Dear God. She could feel him there between her legs, in the tangle of her skirt. But at that moment she had not expected him to enter her. Fully. In some ways it was how attuned they were to each other though. Then he paused, his rich, impassioned gaze saying he knew exactly what he did and how slowly he intended to take this, giving her everything a man was meant to give a woman. The sensation drove the last clear thought from her mind. She writhed. How he did this suddenly not mattering half so much as he did, because then it would be a stamp on their relationship. But then he smoothed the hair back from her forehead.

“I love you, Kara McGurkie,” he murmured. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

She gasped and kissed him in response. He may have made her feel like a woman again, but she had never felt so much like one as she did for finally hearing these words. Thank God she had resisted the temptation to go to places in herself and stay there. This was what she was surely born for. To love and be loved in return. After all, a woman could give of herself like that.

“Just love me,” she croaked, amazed by the level of ecstasy she’d already reached.

“If you’re sure.”

Her throat dried. Sure? When he was already inside her? But she understood why he asked her. This could have been with anyone. She thanked God it was him. And she wanted to give him that reassurance. It was all right for him to touch her. “Of you, doing this? Yes, I am. I always was. It’s how you made me feel from the start. But I think that when I learned to trust you about it was that night I goaded you. Although I do know now, I never should have done it, knowing how difficult it’s been for you.”

“All right then.”

He began to move, and she closed her eyes in sheer ecstasy.

She imagined herself holding this man till the day she died. She had come to Lochalpin to reach the stars after all. It was not a journey she could take alone.

~ About the Author ~

Shehanne Moore is a Scottish born author who writes gritty, witty, more risky than risqué, historical romance, set wherever takes her fancy--stories that detail the best and worst of human behaviour, as opposed to pouts and flounces.

For years she did various jobs while pursuing her dream of becoming a published writer, so she was thrilled to be offered a contract by Etopia Press for The Unraveling of Lady Fury, six days after subbing it.

Shehanne still lives in Scotland with her husband Mr Shey. She has two daughters. When not writing intriguing, and of course, sizzling, historical romance, where goals and desires of sassy, unconventional heroines and ruthless men, mean worlds do collide, she fantasizes about cleaning the house, plays the odd musical instrument and loves what in any other country, would not be defined, as hill-walking.

Discover more about Shehanne Moore here

http://shehannemoore.wordpress.com/

http://twitter.com/ShehanneMoore

http://pinterest.com/shehanne

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xaTv5I170o0

http://shehannemooreweeblycom.weebly.com/books.html

~ Also by Shehanne Moore ~

The Unraveling of Lady Fury

Rule One: There will be no kissing. Rule two: There will be no touching…

Widowed Lady Fury Shelton hasn’t lost everything—yet. As long as she produces the heir to the Beaumont dukedom, she just might be able to keep her position. And her secrets. But when the callously irresistible Captain James “Flint” Blackmoore sails back into her life, Lady Fury panics. She must find a way to protect herself—and her future—from the man she’d rather see rotting in hell than sleeping in her bed. If she must bed him to keep her secrets, so be it. But she doesn’t have to like it. A set of firm rules for the bedroom will ensure that nothing goes awry. Because above all else, she must stop herself from wanting the one thing that Flint can never give her. His heart.

Ex-privateer Flint Blackmoore has never been good at following the rules. Now, once again embroiled in a situation with the aptly named Lady Fury, he has no idea why he doesn’t simply do the wise thing and walk away. He knows he’s playing with fire, and that getting involved with her again is more dangerous than anything on the high seas. But he can’t understand why she’s so determined to hate him. He isn’t sure if the secret she keeps will make things harder—or easier—for him, but as the battle in the bedroom heats up, he knows at least one thing. Those silly rules of hers will have to go…