The Highlander (23 page)

Not ever.

When Sophie saw the flash of anger in Jamie's eyes and his dark scowl, she wondered if being searched out by a woman, no matter how beautiful, was something he was not inclined to endure.

Poor woman, she did not understand that a man like Jamie was not one to submit to a woman's domination, nor was he one who would respond well to being the sole object of her slavish affections.

It was some small consolation to see the way Jamie's expression turned thunderously dark when Vilain offered Sophie his arm and said, "I would hate to see you turn your lovely ankle. It would be best if you let me walk you back inside."'

She did not look back to see Jamie's reaction when she smiled at Vilain and slipped hers arm through his.

Sophie could not have been more surprised when Jamie extracted himself from Gillian's hold long enough to take Sophie's other hand. He lifted it to his lips. "I look forward to visiting with you at a later time, so we might finish our conversation."

As he released her hand, lie pressed something into it.

"I am happy to know my chatter did not bore you," she said, and dropped the object into the pocket of her cloak.

Sophie saw the possessive look in Jamie's eyes, and wondered if it was because he did not want to leave her, or because he did not want to leave her with Vilain.

Regardless, it hurt to see him walk through the door with Gillian on his arm.

She understood how a horse must feel when he wins the race and the silver trophy is given to the rider.

Fifteen

She knew treachery,

Rapine, deceit, and lust, and ills enow

To be a woman.

—John Donne (1572-1631), English metaphysical poet and divine.
The Progress of

the Soul (1601)

After they were gone, Vilain turned to Sophie. "Are you cold,
mademoiselle?"
he asked, his eyes as cool as his words. "Shall we go inside?"

She started to say she was going to her room, but decided she did not want to be alone just now, so she replied, "Yes, I think it is time we rejoined the others."

"Excellent," he said, and gave her a warm smile. "I must tell you how good it feels to speak my native tongue with a Frenchwoman. I did not realize how very much I missed it until I heard you speak. I had hoped to find some time to visit with you. I am always hungry for news of France, but I am even more interested to hear what brought you to Scotland."

"I daresay you would be bored,
monsieur,
for my reasons for wanting to travel would sound like they were fresh from the schoolroom to someone with your educated polish."

Before he could respond, Sophie began to ask him question after question which he could not refuse to answer without appearing rude. However, she was thankful to see they were at last approaching the Great Hall, for she was running out of questions. "I have enjoyed talking with you,
monsieur..."

' 'Please, do call me Vilain. We are, after all, countrymen."

She saw he was about to ask her something, so she said quickly, "I can tell you are a man who came to Scotland but left his heart in France. Tell me, Vilain, why did you leave France and come to Scotland?"

She saw immediately that she had found the vulnerable spot in his armor.

Just then they stepped into the Great Hall and Vilain preferred to leave rather than answer her question, for he kissed her hand and said, "Al-all the guests have departed. Although I would love to stay and talk, I make it a rule to never be the last to leave when I am a guest in another's home. Therefore I must make haste. I bid you adieu, Sophie. Until next time."

Sophie said good-night, but she did not watch his departure, rather letting her gaze rest on Jamie Graham. He was standing on the opposite side of the room, laughing heartily at something Gillian said.

Sophie turned away and decided she must have misjudged his feelings on the battlement, for he did not look put out in the least with Gillian's possessiveness.

Obviously the intimacy they shared before the appearance of Gillian and Vilain meant nothing to him. She was nothing more than a dalliance.

What comes easily is easily forgotten.

It was one of life's hard-earned lessons, that a woman who chooses to be the mistress of a rich and powerful man will be provided for, but she will never be loved.

About to return to her room, she put her hand in her pocket and felt the piece of metal Jamie had pressed into her palm.

She withdrew her hand, opened her palm and saw the gold medallion she had ripped from her neck that day at Danegaeld and flung into the pond. She searched her mind for what Jamie had said earlier, and her reply to him.

' 'I have not seen you wear your medallion of late. Have you lost it?"

"No, I have not felt the urge to wear it lately."

She folded her hand over the medallion and slipped it back into her pocket. So, he had tricked her, and in so doing, caught her in a lie.

She wondered if he would even believe her now, if she threw caution aside and told him the truth.

It's a little late for that, she reminded herself. Do not forget you could be carrying his child, and if that is true you cannot remain here. She would not complicate things for him any longer than necessary.

She saw Arabella sitting close to the fireplace, talking quietly with her brothers. Jamie was still by the door, and Sophie, not wanting to pass by him, went to join Arabella.

It was much later when Sophie decided to return to her room. She looked out the window and saw the wind was howling fiercely, blowing across the North Sea. She knew it would drive drifts of snow in deep piles along the battlements.

'Dinna take the shortcut, lass," Fraser said. "You would never make it and more than likely ye could end up back in the sea."

"Very well. I will take the long way then.
Bon soir."

"Good night," they replied in unison.

She swore softly in French. To take the long way meant she had to pass close to Jamie's apartments. She prayed she would not see him. Her one encounter with him earlier had weakened her.

Even now she could still feel the slow, curling knot of desire deep in her loins, and she knew it would take very little effort on his part to have her panting in his arms.

She hurried from the hall.

The wind whistled through the windows in great drafts and the torches sputtered, but the strong walls of the ancient fortress rose up as solid as a mountain, stopping the massive force of each wave the sea sent crashing against it. She supposed this fortress had seen many such storms and had survived them all.

She could only hope she could do as well.

In her room at last, Sophie sat by the fire in her gown and robe. She stared hypnotically at the flames, the taste of Jamie still on her tongue, the scent of his skin upon hers. She knew she was being foolish to give thoughts of him so much of her time, but memories of him were all she would have left before long. I might as well practice, she thought.

She was surprised to hear a soft knock at her door.

It must be Arabella, she thought as she rose to her feet. Arabella had remained behind in the hall after Sophie left. It was not uncommon for her to stop by for a late-night talk.

Sophie opened the door and was stunned, as well as humiliated, to see Jamie standing boldly in front of her, for anyone who should pass by to see.

"What do you want?" she whispered.

The green eyes were soft and heavy with dene. Oh, she knew what he wanted.

"I came to see you, lass."

She stared at him as if not comprehending what he said, then gave herself a mental shake.

I'm sorry you went to all the trouble to come here, but I am expecting someone else."

She moved to shut the door but he put his foot in the way. "God's blood! You are the most obstinate wench I have ever encountered. There is
no give to ye, lass. Ye are too tightly laced
for
a man to get a hold on ye. Whom are you
expecting?
If it's one of my men, his blood will
be
on your hands."

"Thank you for the compliment. Arabella said she might stop by."

The sight of his knowing smile irked her and she moved to close the door.

He shoved it open with his foot and stepped into her chamber. He closed the door behind him. "That is the second lie you have told me today. I warn you, mistress, not to try for another."

"Warn all you like, but I make my own choices." Sophie did not know why it pleased her immensely to know she had angered him. It not only pleased her, but enough so that she found herself wishing he would stay that way. It was easier to resist him when he was being the laird of the castle.

"What has happened to you?" he asked. "Two hours ago you were melting against me like warmed butter."

She decided against telling him how he was two hours ago. "I would think you gentleman enough not to mention that, but since you asked, I have realized the error of my ways. I am wiser now."

"I am gentleman enough to know that your response was an honest one, unlike your words."

"Is that what you came here for? To bandy words with me?"

"Ye were eager enough to see me earlier, and responsive enough that I have thought of naught else since I left you, but I'm beginning to wonder why I bothered to give you so much thought."

He excelled at choosing the right words to infuriate her. "Do you think that is all I live for...to be in your thoughts? It is precious little comfort on a cold night to wrap myself in the knowledge that you are thinking about me. You think about your horse, but I daresay you do not expect him to grovel at your feet. Moreover, in case you are interested, I rarely give you a thought at all. I find my days filled with so many activities that your memory hardly surfaces."

"I should have finished what I started up on the battlements," he said, "for that is obviously what angered you."

"I am not angry. And, if finishing what you started was such a big issue, I could have finished it myself the moment I arrived back in my room."

She did not realize what she had said until the slow, stretching smile eased itself across his face. "Well now, although I am pleased to know you are a self-sufficient lass, I am also disheartened to know I can be so easily replaced. I thought it best to leave you alone, but now I can see I should have come sooner. I cannot bear the thought of a lass such as ye being forced to pleasure herself." "Please leave."

He stepped closer and she backed up until she bumped against the bedpost. Only a few feet separated them now.

"Stay away from me."

"You know I cannot."

"Go visit your betrothed. It's her bed you should be warming, not mine."

"It's you I want."

"All right, you have told me, and I thank you for the compliment. You cannot know how comforting it is to know. Now leave."

For a moment she regretted her words, for he looked as though he might grab her and shake her until her teeth rattled together. She knew he was angry.

That was why she did not understand, and she gave him a puzzled look, when he began to remove his socks and shoes. Her eyes grew wider as he unbuckled his belt and tossed it on the chair.

"What are you doing?" "Undressing, as you can see."

"I want you out of my room. You cannot sleep here."

"I'm the laird of this castle. I can sleep anywhere I choose, and with anyone I choose—including a maid." He took a step, unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it on top of the belt. He took another step and let his kilt fall to the floor.

Her gaze dropped lower in spite of her determination not to look. He was erect and so hard the knowledge of it brought a tightness to her throat and a corresponding tightness farther down.

Her defiance deserted her, and she stood mutely while he loosened the buttons of her robe, slipped it from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

"I came here to give us both something, and I willna be leaving without the doing of it." His arms went around her and he drew her against him.

She could feel him, hot and hard, pressed against her belly. Her gown slid down her body

join the robe on the floor. Backed against the bedpost, she could not move away for his body was so close she was pinned there.

She could feel his heart pounding with a wild rhythm that matched the tempo of her own. His hands were in her hair and he turned her head so as to give him access to her mouth. He was too close for her to see the expression in his eyes.

"I will never have enough of you," he said. "Never."

He turned their bodies and pressed her back against the bed, her feet still on the floor as he parted her legs.

She closed her eyes, wanting the feel of him coming into her.

Her eyes flew open in shock when she realized that was not what he intended at all.

Mon dieu,
not with his mouth. She tried to close her legs, but his arms were strong, and he was determined. After those first few seconds she no longer wanted to resist him and found herself .opening to him completely, as he lured her deeper and deeper into the world of insatiable greed.

His hands were on her breasts, thumbs on her nipples, and still he kissed her, his tongue going deeper until she writhed in agony, begging him to end her torture.