The Recruit (29 page)

At first when Kenneth’s hand slid over the slight roundness, it didn’t penetrate.
He was so half out of his mind with lust that he couldn’t completely process what
he was feeling.

She was so soft and sweet. She felt so good in his arms. The urgent little sounds
she was making were driving him wild. All he could think about was getting inside
her. He wanted to possess her. Claim her. Force her to acknowledge the strange connection
between them.

He’d never felt anything like this before, and damn it, he needed to know she felt
it, too.

But slowly the vague prickle at the back of his consciousness grew. Eventually understanding
slid through the fiery haze of his passion like a blade, splitting it apart from end
to end, leaving nothing but cold rage.

He didn’t want to believe it. Couldn’t believe it. But the truth swelled under his
hand.

Suddenly the changes he’d noticed in her took on a very different meaning—as did her
anxiousness to leave.

He jerked his hand away and stepped back from her as if scalded. Hell, he had been.
Burned and betrayed.

“You are with child.” His voice was every bit as harsh and cold as he felt.

This time the fear in her eyes was warranted. Emotion crackled and fired dangerously
inside him as he struggled for control. But the battle had already been lost. His
hands
clenched at his sides, every muscle in his body tensed and flared.

She didn’t say anything, his anger seeming to have rendered her mute. She just stared
up at him with big blue eyes, looking so damned vulnerable, so ridiculously innocent.
But she was neither.

“How long?” His voice cracked like the whip flailing inside him. He grabbed her by
the arm and jerked her up against him. “How long?” he repeated, not caring that he
was scaring her. “And don’t think about lying to me.”

“I, I—” Her eyes skittered away, for once unchallenging. But he was too furious to
enjoy it.

“It’s mine,” he said flatly. He’d known it from the first moment his hand swept over
the soft swell. He didn’t need her to confirm it, but damn it, she would. “Tell me,
damn it.”

Maybe if she’d begged for understanding. Maybe if she’d continued her moment of feminine
meekness and contriteness, he might have reacted differently. But the defiance and
cool challenge that had pricked him from the first returned.

He was angrier than he could ever recall, and she didn’t care. He’d seen fierce warriors
quake in their boots when he lost his temper, but she stood toe-to-toe with him, utterly
oblivious to the danger. Apparently, she knew just as well as he did that there wasn’t
any. No matter how angry, how furious, he would never hurt her. He wasn’t used to
fighting without the advantage of physical strength, and it was bloody disconcerting.

“It’s mine!” she shouted, twisting her arm out of his hold. “Yours may have been the
seed that took root, but the child is mine. I want nothing from you, as I’m sure you’ll
be glad to hear.”

Kenneth flinched as if she’d slapped him. She couldn’t have made her opinion of him—her
disdain—more clear. She’d wanted only one thing from him.

Suddenly, another thought struck him cold. It was bad enough to not be taken seriously,
to be thought of as nothing more than a ready cock, but what if passion wasn’t all
she’d wanted from him? His jaw was clenched so tight he could barely spit out the
words. “Nothing but my seed. Is that it, Mary? By God, did you plan this?”

She drew back in shock. “Of course not!”

He stared at her, searching for any sign of deception or guilt. There was none, but
he knew better than to be deceived by her air of innocence.

She must have sensed his hesitancy. “It was not I who pursued you, if you’ll recall.
This was as much a surprise to me as it is to you. It was an accident. I was married
for over ten years with one son. I never dreamed this would happen.”

Unconsciously, her hands had gone to her stomach and a soft expression swept over
her features. She looked so lovely and happy, so different from the drab, half-starved
nun he remembered. His heart did an odd little start.

He ached to touch her again, to finish what they’d started, but she’d deceived him.
“Yet you are pleased that it did.”

It wasn’t a question, though she took it as one. She met his gaze full on. “Aye. My
son was taken from me before he was six months old. Can you imagine what that was
like? I was only fourteen. I never had a chance to be a mother to him, but this baby—”
She stopped, her voice tightening with emotion. “This baby will be different.”

He was aware of the general circumstances of her past, but didn’t realize that her
son had been taken from her when he was so young. He remembered his own mother. How
she’d doted on him and his brother and sister. How tenderhearted and loving she’d
been, so different from most noblewomen. Mary was the same, he realized.

But he didn’t want to feel sorry for her. He didn’t want to think about how she had
suffered. Intentionally or not, she’d taken something from him and then tried to hide
it.

She gazed at him with her hand over her stomach protectively—as if he would somehow
harm them. The gesture infuriated him. She’d cast him in the role of enemy, and he
wanted to know why.

“You should have told me.”

She glared at him, not heeding the warning in his voice.

“What difference would it have made? You were in Scotland and I was here. We were
on different sides of the war.”

“And now that we are not?”

A faint blush pinkened her cheeks, and her gaze dropped. “I didn’t think you’d care.
As prolific as you are in your … uh, relationships, I assumed this was not an infrequent
occurrence. I thought you’d thank me for not telling you.”

Kenneth felt his temper spike hot again. She knew nothing about him. “Oh, I care,
and your assumptions are dead wrong. I may have had my share of bed partners—which
is nothing that I need to apologize for—but I’ve never had an ‘accident,’ as you put
it.”

He’d also never allowed himself to take his release inside a woman before, but for
some reason he didn’t want to tell her that.

She bit her lip contritely and also, he noticed to his extreme irritation, adorably.
She blinked up at him. “You haven’t?”

He ignored the urge to take that lip between his. Anger and desire were a potent mix
that was proving hard to resist. “Nay, not a bastard to be found, I’m afraid, and
I have no intention of allowing my firstborn son to be the first.”

“Son? Why would you assume the child is a boy?”

He gritted his teeth. “Because if I’m going to be forced to marry you to give this
child a name, you will bloody well give me an heir.”

She paled. “Married? You misunderstand. I have no intention of marrying you. It isn’t
necessary. I’ve already made arrangements—”

“I don’t give a shite what kind of arrangements you’ve
made.” She startled at the crudeness of his language, her face growing a little paler.
“It is you who misunderstand. You don’t have a choice. You will marry me.”

Mary’s heart dropped. “No,” she choked out in a strangled gasp. She shook her head.
“No.”

His smile was merciless. “I’m not asking. You’ll marry me if you want to know this
child.”

Mary looked up at him in horror, at the hard, ruthless warrior who radiated icy rage
and left her no doubt that he meant what he said. Worse, he had the power to carry
out the threat. He had all the power. She might be the one carrying the child, but
in the eyes of the law, she had no rights. She was a woman in a man’s world. Whatever
independence she’d carved out for herself was illusory. She hated him for making her
see it.

She’d underestimated him. Misjudged him. Thought that he was as feckless and uncaring
as her husband.

But she’d made a mistake. A horrible one. Too late, she saw what her first impression
of a handsome hero with an adoring throng had missed: the core of steel and the iron
will forged by years of fighting. The man who hated to lose, and the perseverance
that had made him a champion. He wouldn’t give up until he achieved what he wanted.
The baby. Her. It didn’t matter.

Her stomach rolled. This couldn’t be happening. Her darkest fears had come to life.
To save another child from being taken from her, she would have to submit to the will
of another man who didn’t care about her. She would lose the power to make her own
decisions, lose the ability to control her life, and give it to him to do with as
he wished.

Moreover, it wasn’t only her hard-won independence at stake, but her heart as well.
Even standing here in this room with him furious with her, a part of her wondered
if it could be different. He made her feel things she didn’t
want to feel. She’d tried to protect herself against it by running away, but how could
she do that if they were married?

Was she doomed to another loveless marriage? To watch another husband adored and fawned
over by a bevy of willing admirers?

Her stomach knifed. She couldn’t bear it. After what she’d been through, she would
not—
could
not—slip back into the role of the adoring, trusting, and subservient wife. She couldn’t
pretend it didn’t hurt when he left her bed for another’s. And it would hurt. If what
she’d felt today was any indication, it would hurt quite a lot.

But what choice did she have? Her heart squeezed. Her baby …

He didn’t bother waiting for her to respond. For the second time, he hadn’t bothered
to ask her to marry him. A silent sob buried itself in her chest. He’d left her no
choice, and they both knew it. “I will speak to Sir Adam and leave for London at dawn.”

“London?”

“Edward will be furious if we wed without his permission. Fortunately, the new king
is more of a romantic than his sire, and I think I can convince him to agree to the
necessity for a quick and quiet ceremony. We’ll have to hurry, with Lent approaching.”

Despair weighed down on her. She was being dragged along already, no matter her wishes.

“Why are you doing this?” she whispered. “Why are you forcing me to marry you, when
you know I have no wish to do so?”

“I told you, my son will have a name.”

“And after that? What happens after you have your heir, what then? Will that be enough?”

He stilled. “What do you mean?”

She lifted her chin and met his gaze unflinchingly. “I should like to know what more
will be required of me.”

His eyes narrowed, the white lines around his mouth
nearly making her want to take a few steps back. “This will not be a marriage in name
only, if that is what you are thinking. I will not be barred from my wife’s bed.”

“Even if I don’t want you there?”

He gave her a long knowing look, and for a moment she feared he would prove her wrong.
“Are you so sure of that, Mary?”

His voice was low and husky. Entrancing. Seducing. A temptation impossible to resist.
Her heart squeezed. She wasn’t sure at all. Just the way he was looking at her made
her stomach knot and skin prickle with heat.

But she couldn’t allow herself to be deluded. “So I shall be expected to breed your
children, what else?”

Apparently, he didn’t like her cold, matter-of-fact tone. He took her by the shoulders
and forced her to look at him. “Why are you acting like this, damn it?”

Her heart clenched. Because she wasn’t a foolish girl anymore. Because the only way
to protect herself was to not have any illusions or unrealistic expectations. She
wouldn’t go into this marriage like she had the first—blind and full of silly romantic
dreams. This was an alliance born of necessity—a business arrangement—and she would
treat it as such. “I am simply trying to be clear on what shall be expected of me.
I’ve never been forced into marriage before.”

Clearly, he didn’t appreciate her sarcasm. His hands fisted. “Your duty and fidelity,
damn it. Just like in any other marriage.”

Fidelity
. How easily his arrow found its mark without even aiming. “And is the same required
of you?”

She meant it to come off as sarcastic, but the way his eyes held hers, she feared
he saw too much. “Do you wish it to be?”

She covered her embarrassment with a sharp laugh. As if such a thing were even possible.
“You forget I’ve seen you at work, so to speak. I’ve also been married before. I know
how an alliance between nobles works. I will turn a blind eye to your dalliances,
and once I have done my duty in bearing your children, you will do the same. I merely
meant, what am I to get in return for doing my duty in bearing your children?”

His mouth hardened, and his eyes glinted with a dangerous spark of steel. “You will
have my name, my protection, and preside as chatelaine over any land the king returns
to me. One day the child you are carrying will be the Earl of Sutherland.” He leaned
closer. She could see the dark shadow of his beard along the hard lines of his jaw
and remembered how it had felt rubbing over her skin. “And every time I take you in
my bed, you will come. That is what you will get, my lady.” She flinched at his blunt
crudity, ignoring the flicker of awareness that surged through her. “But know this—I
don’t know what your experience may have been before, but I will never be blind.”

She flushed, not mistaking his meaning. Fidelity went in only one direction. He expected
her to be faithful but made no promise in return.

Open eyes
, she told herself.
No illusions
.

She hardened her heart. It was an alliance, nothing more. He’d made that clear. She
had to remember it. “You will, of course, seek my son’s wardship and marriage?”

His brow furrowed for a moment, as if he hadn’t thought of it. “Aye.”

As her husband, it was only natural that he would seek control over the young Earl
of Atholl. He might have switched kings, but the power and influence he would garner
by marrying her had not changed. Indeed, she knew that had been the attraction for
Sir John as well.