Kahleena MacCarthy ~ To Meet a Highlander (10 page)

BOOK: Kahleena MacCarthy ~ To Meet a Highlander
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Niall began to chuckle, which seemed to ease everyone else. “That he can be, lass.”

             
“GET OUT!” Zarik yelled. The vein in the side of his neck throbbed as his jaw clenched. He looked two seconds away from actually exploding.

             
Tsarina knew she went pale, she’d never seen him this angry before. He always held himself in check. But everyone left in a hurry. Tor gave a sympathetic glance her way. Drostan even propped the door up, the best he could, to give them some sort of privacy.

             
“As I was saying, lass. Ye’ll need to marry me now. Ye can have whatever ye like for it. We can make it a celebration over several days, pretty dresses, flowers.” Zarik looked at her neck, remembering the necklace she didn’t have. “Jewels.”

             
“Why do I have to marry you? You've made it clear I'm not who you want. I’m not marrying you.”

             
“Because, I've now been seen in yer chamber well past the appropriate time. Aye, lass. Ye will marry me. ‘Tis for the best. I know ye were embarrassed when I told my father I’d not marry ye. I didnae think of how it would be for ye when I said that in front of most of the clan. I may not want to wed and I may prefer blood and battle to love, but I should still have thought of yer honor. It’s one of the things I’ve often fought for – the women of clan MacKinnon. After tonight, if I didnae offer ye marriage, I'd be that arse ye accuse me of being. This night, without a proposal, will only lead to further embarrassment for ye.” Zarik ran his hand through his hair.

             
Tsarina found herself watching his hand go through the long blond locks, wishing it could be her hand running through it. Pulling it. “Since when do you care about anything? I thought feelings were beneath you. There’s no reason to fake it on my behalf. I assure you that I’m fine. A few more hushed whispers about me won't cause me any grief. It's not what you want and I'll not have anyone forced to be with me.”

             
“I don’t care what others think of me, lass. For that matter, I also care about verra little else. So cherish those words and the ones that follow as they’re as endearing as anyone will ever get from me. I’ll see ye clothed well, well fed, and always warm. Never will ye be a beggar or in need of coin. Ye’ll have the protection of clan MacKinnon. Myself and each of my warriors will gladly die to keep ye safe.”  Zarik watched the expression on Tsarina’s face soften slightly. Then it went back to disagreeable.

             
“Ask me properly.”

             
“What?”

             
“On one knee. It is the proper way to ask for marriage.”

             
“Nay, lass. I’ve been kinder to ye here than I’ve ever been to any lass. I’ll not be getting on my knee for anyone. Never.”

             
“Then I won’t be marrying you. Get out, Zarik.” Tsarina felt a small piece of her heart break as Zarik walked out of her room. He looked as though she'd slapped him. She wished she would have.

Chapter Five

              Zarik knew he was close to losing his temper. He turned and walked out of Tsarina’s chamber without another word and without so much as a glance toward her. Hadn’t she said from the beginning she was here for him? Now was her chance to have him. And she refused him. He'd all but crawled back to her.

             
What did she want from him? He'd allowed her to drive him mad for almost a year now. Was there no end to it?If only he could convince Argus to send her back to where she came from. Perhaps his own madness would end.

             
Zarik stormed down the stairs of the keep three at a time and left to go into the small town where he’d find a whore willing to have him.

****

              As he and Rage made their way to town, Zarik’s horse was as ill-tempered as his rider. He gave Rage his head and with the run, they were in town before he knew it. And, before he could collect his thoughts.

             
He went into his favorite tavern. It was small, but it was clean, and the whores were clean. The larger establishments were concerned mainly with coin, not with being disease free.

             
Zarik found a dark corner, ordered three drinks and sat down.

             
By the time he’d managed six drinks, he’d still not been able to drink away Tsarina and her refusal. Men did not kneel. Not to anyone. She would try to change him right off. Women. Zarik had been right. They made you weak.

             
He'd kneel to no one. Not ever. Warriors did no such thing. He'd die first.

             
Waving over a blonde female, he gladly took the view of her cleavage as she leaned over toward him and offered her services for the night. She didn’t stink, so that was a plus.

             
Reaching into his sporran, he pulled a handful of coin out and tossed it onto the table. After she’d greedily grabbed it up, not bothering to mention he’d overpaid her; he pulled her onto his lap. If he couldn’t drown out Tsarina’s face one way, he’d damn sure do it a different one.

             
Zarik grabbed a full breast in one hand. They were large, but not enormous. “Lean yourself back onto the table behind ye, lass. Stick your breasts out for me.” As she complied, he pulled one free of her minimal dress and clamped his mouth to it. Her gasp only made him suck harder.

             
He overpaid because he was not in the mood for love making. He was in the mood for fucking. Zarik might be an asshole, but he wasn't a fucking asshole. Whore or not, she deserved fair pay for what she'd be getting.

             
When he released her breast, she found her voice. “Do you want to go someplace more private?”

             
Zarik nodded and followed her across the room and up some stairs. Her room was nice and tidy with just necessities in it. Thankfully there was also a tub. “How about a bath for ye first? I’ll wait.” Clean was a necessity with him. Tsarina might think him a beast – and mayhap he was – but he liked things clean. He threw his shirt on the chair, pulled out of his shoes and tossed himself on the hard bed.

             
As he watched her bathe, he hoped his cock would join the program. It was hard, but it wasn’t the same as when he was around Tsarina. This was a take it or leave it response just because there was a naked woman around. Tsarina just had to look over at him and he was uncomfortably hard.

             
Which was another reason he needed to stay far away from her. Men that become led by their cocks ended up dead in a pool of their own blood because they couldn’t focus.

             
“Don’t bother with your clothes.” Zarik told her after she dried off. He just needed to be inside something warm and wet.

             
“My name’s…”

             
“I don’t care.” He interrupted. “Why don’t ye come over and suck my cock?” Zarik knew it hadn’t completely sounded like a question. But if anything was going to get him at full attention, a mouth wrapped around it sure as hell would.

             
He watched as she straddled him on the bed, lifting up the front of his kilt. When her mouth wrapped around him, he pushed her head down farther. Hell, he’d paid for this, it wasn’t about her. Zarik heard her slight gag, but she didn’t try to pull away. “Why don’t ye turn around, lass?” Without hesitation, she turned to straddle over his chest, bending over to suck his cock again, he was given the full view of her ass and her womanly folds spread open over him.

             
Zarik gave himself a mental shake. He couldn’t stop from thinking of how he’d respond to Tsarina in this position. Giving himself another shake, he reminded himself that wives were not whores. This was the stuff you didn’t let your wife know you enjoyed. Although, since she refused to marry him, he’d not even get to bed her.

             
Trying to distract himself, he rubbed his fingers along the whore’s slickness. Spreading her womanly lips farther apart with one hand, he inserted two fingers and started working them in and out of her.

             
“Stop sucking and lay your chest and face flat between my legs.” It would put her ass at a great angle, right in front of him. Again he thought of Tsarina. Her pale skin, he bet her ass was fantastic under those skirts.

             
When she’d first arrived, it had taken every bit of discipline he had to not allow her to see the lust that filled him. The short clothing she had been wearing, it was tight all over and barely covered anything. Zarik no longer took the bet that her ass was great, he knew it would be. Of all the memories that fade over time, the one of her ass in those shorts had not.

             
Perhaps refusing his offer of marriage was a blessing. Tsarina would have him jumping when she said without problem. He'd become the blubbering idiot that Drostan had.

             
He tried to reign in his focus. There was a woman in front of him, confidently displaying all her important bits to him. Ready and willing to please him – unlike Tsarina.

             
Zarik slapped her ass with one hand as he kept working the other between her legs. She moaned and moved against him, not complaining with the sting of the smack. Perhaps he should reserve this one. He was likely to need it with Tsarina looking as she may never leave the keep. Would there be any way he could convince his father and Argus to send her back to where they thought she'd come from?

             
“Let me ride your cock.” The whore sounded desperate. Zarik sighed. What he wouldn’t give for a respectable woman. One that, if forced to say the word cock, had the decency to be embarrassed and, at the least, blush.

             
“Nay, lass. I’m not quite in the mood for that.” Zarik shoved her forward farther so that he could get up. Pulling her to the edge of the bed, standing on the floor behind her, he plunged into her. When she cried out, he grabbed a handful of hair and began slamming into her.

             
The entire time, he closed his eyes and thought of Tsarina. Knowing she’d likely never be his and even if she were, he’d never be able to have her like this. Why was it man’s basic instinct was rough sex and women wanted love and cuddling?

             
Zarik thrust even harder, trying to wish his images of Tsarina away, as his balls slapped against the whore, he reached forward to grab a breast in his free hand. He pinched and rolled the nipple as she moaned louder and louder, bucking up against him to meet him thrust for thrust.

             
Luckily right after she came, he managed to as well. Most whores, or so his friends had told him, were too loose for them to find their pleasure without a final blow job. Zarik had been gifted in the appendage department, so they all felt tight to him.

             
“That was great. Would you like to have me call for some food and do it again?” The whore asked boldly as she fought to gain control of her breathing.

             
“Nay, call for a fresh bath; I’d like to wash before I return home. Ye may find yourself another to pleasure. Just give me a half of an hour.” With that, he tossed several more coins at her, dismissing her.

             
“Do ye not wish for me to wash ye?” She asked.

             
Zarik acted as though he hadn’t heard her.

****

              The ride back to the keep seemed to last only seconds. Zarik thought on how he could fix his mess with Tsarina, surely made even worse with his recent indiscretion with a whore. His father would never forgive him and old Argus would likely curse him. Zarik laughed at the thought. Perhaps he was starting to believe is some sorts of magic.

             
The real truth, he discovered as he entered the gates of Dunakin.

             
It wasn’t his father or Argus he was concerned with. He knew he’d never be captivated with anyone but Tsarina. It was like she had cast her own spell over him and no one else would ever do. Zarik would always put her face on them.

             
Not fair to him or the women he might have. A good thing he hadn't planned to marry for love.

****

              “Where have ye been ye overgrown ox?” Drostan asked when Zarik walked into the great hall. “Ye smell like a damned whoreson.”

             
Zarik threw a look that would halt most anyone in their tracks.

             
“Aye, my friend. Ye do and ye ken it too. Dunnae forget, ye dunnae scare me a bit. Now out with it. We’ve training to do. Ye’ve not yet tried to remove anyone’s head yet today.”

             
“Nay, I’ve not, but mayhap I’ll make the example and remove yers and place it on a pike.” Zarik was overly annoyed with his friend, but it seemed he couldn’t tap down the hostility that was raging within him.

             
Drostan shook his head and started walking away. Over his shoulder he called, “Just bed the lass already. Then she’s no choice but to marry yer whoreson arse. Tell her she'd be saving many of us from useless training field injuries. We'd all be verra grateful to her.”

****

              Left alone to sulk, Zarik called for a serving girl to bring him some food and drink. This was one day he preferred to eat alone. He didn’t need Argus and Niall’s accusing glares today.

             
It was as though the little shite of a lass had cast a spell over both of the older men as well. They’d taken her side over his more times than he could remember over the last year. Zarik won their battles, trained their men and kept everyone safe and fed. It seemed to matter not anymore.

             
Tsarina was the lady of the keep even though she lacked the title and name needed for it. She was allowed to sit and do her stitching or read while others around her worked.

             
With frustration, Zarik slammed his cup on the table, causing several of the servants cleaning to jump and look up. He waved them to continue their duties.

             
He needed to kill something. It would figure the battles had died down as of late.

****

              Tsarina sat by the loch wrapped in her cloak. Niall and Argus had asked her to remain in the keep due to the chill in the air, but she needed to escape the confinement. There wasn’t much for her to do. She didn’t do any sort of needlework and they’d not allow her to cook or clean. Izzy had control over the keep, but had offered her to do the menus for the kitchen. Since she was clueless and knew it would take Izzy weeks to teach her, she declined.

             
It was apparent Izzy loved her position and Tsarina wasn’t about to start making enemies by making people unhappy.

             
But Tsarina was becoming unhappy. Useless was a term she was using regularly to describe herself. She’d asked Niall to beg Argus for a way to go back to her real home. Her real time. It seemed she held no real purpose in being here. While she enjoyed the beautiful views and a few of the people here, she missed her brother, her house, and all that was normal for her in her time. Here she had few true friends.

             
The whispers were beginning to break through even her thick skin. People wondered why she was still at Dunakin. They wondered why she did nothing. Some wondered why she and Zarik acted as they did. Others wondered why she was not forced to marry since he’d obviously, and so publicly, rejected her. Still others whispered about him being in her chamber well after decent hours. Why was he not forced to marry her?

             
Every way Tsarina turned, someone was saying something about her. It was almost as it was when she’d first arrived. Those that had started talking to her, no longer did. Well, a few did. They said they didn’t adhere to gossip, but most had ignored her without even so much as a goodbye said.

             
Then there was Zarik. She’d never been as stubborn as she was around him. It was like he pulled it from her and she could never simply be agreeable. She kept remembering the words he promised her if they married. He’d sacrifice his own life, and those of his men, to keep her safe. Chivalry like that didn’t exist in her old world. It would melt her heart if it wasn't said simply out of duty. If it were caused to be said from love – which Zarik did not love her – it would be the most romantic thing she would ever here. The real stuff. Like in the romance novels.

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