The Recruit (35 page)

The lack of additional supplies heading north still bothered him, as did Clifford’s
continued comings and goings, but recalling MacKay’s warnings, he kept his thoughts
to himself. He also didn’t mention volunteering to go with Clifford on a recent journey
to Roxburgh. A mission that had turned up nothing.

Kenneth stopped when they reached the circle of five stones known locally as the Duddo
Stones. He glanced down at the woman still sleeping in his arms and felt something
inside his chest shift. Something that ached as he took in the fair hair glistening
in the sun like gold; the soft, creamy skin; the tiny, pointed chin; the lush, pink
mouth, and the long flutter of dark lashes against her rosy cheeks. Her features were
delicate, just like her beauty. Classic and understated rather than bold and flashy.
It was the type of beauty that would last for years, beyond the fresh dewiness of
youth. She had a face that a man could be content to look at for the rest of his life.

God, he sounded like an idiot! This wooing and acting like a lovesick knight was turning
him into one. He could almost hear MacKay laughing at him.

She opened her eyes. He watched her blink as she took a moment to realize where she
was. He felt like a ray of
sunlight hit him when she smiled and looked up at him. “We’re here?”

He smiled back at her. “Aye. I thought you might sleep the day away.”

Her cheeks flushed adorably. “I seem to be taking a lot of naps lately. I think it
has something to do with the babe.”

Her hands covered her stomach, as he’d noticed her instinctively do many times before.
She jumped a little and said, “Oh!”

“What is it?” he said, instantly concerned. “Is it the child?”

She nodded. “She’s kicking me.” At his obviously dumbfounded expression, she laughed
and said, “Would you like to feel?”

He wasn’t sure, but he nodded.

She took his hand and placed it on her stomach, and a moment later he startled when
something indeed kicked him.

She laughed at his horrified expression. “It’s all right. It’s perfectly normal. Although
this baby seems to be much more active than David was. I think she’s anxious to get
out.”

It stunned him how little he knew about any of this. “When will that be?”

“I should think around Ascension Day.”

Kenneth felt his breath relax. The end of May. He had time, then. He wanted to make
sure she was safely away well before the child was born. His child. That wave of protectiveness
grew even stronger.

“Where have you brought me?”

“See for yourself.”

He helped her down so that she could look around. She gasped when she saw the five
ancient stones standing in a small circle on the flat top of a hill. “Druid stones?
They’re magnificent.” But then she noticed the much larger range of hills in the distance.
“Isn’t that the border?”

“Aye.”

She shivered. “Is it safe to be so close without a guard?”

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Mary. You have nothing to fear.”

She held his gaze. He could tell she didn’t believe him, and it struck something cold
in his heart. A wry smile turned her mouth. “I’ve heard that promise before.”

His mouth hardened, and he tried not to feel the prick of jealousy.
Atholl
. “But not by me. I’m not your first husband, Mary.”

She looked up at him, blinking in the sunlight. “No, no you’re not.”

“What did he do to make you so cynical?”

“Cynical?” she repeated, as if she’d never made the connection. “I suppose you are
right. Atholl swore to protect us, but he gave no thought to what would happen to
us when he rebelled. He cared more about glory and being a hero than he did about
a wife and son. Aye, he protected us as long as it didn’t interfere with what he wanted
to do. I asked him to take us with him, but he refused. He said we would be safe.
That he would come back for us if something went wrong. I trusted him. But of course,
he never did. He abandoned us to Edward’s mercy, and I was left to pick up the pieces
of his decisions. Decisions that took everything from me—my son, my home, my family—but
which I never had a say in.”

Kenneth felt a prickle—nay, a stab—of unease. “That’s why you wanted me to give you
that promise?”

She gazed up at him. “Aye. I swore I’d never let a man put me in that kind of position
again.”

Ah hell
. It wasn’t the same, he told himself. He
would
protect her. He didn’t just care about the glory. That wasn’t why he was so intent
on joining the Highland Guard. At least not all of it. He wasn’t making choices for
her. She would want to go when the time came.

But all the rationalizing in the world couldn’t erase the flicker of unease that had
crept over the day like a dark
shadow. “Come,” he said, taking a bag from the horse. “I’ve a surprise for you.”

The wariness was back. “I don’t need any more surprises.”

“Perhaps not, but you’ll like it all the same.”

He was right. A few minutes later, after he’d led her over to the circle of stones,
spread out a plaid for her to sit on, and handed her the bundle, she moaned with delight
at the scent of cinnamon and caramel that wafted from beneath the piece of linen.
“More sugar buns? I’m going to be as fat as that old cat that hangs around the barn,
if you keep having the cook bake these for me.”

“I like you curvy.”

She didn’t respond; she was too busy biting into the crusty sugarcoated round of bread.
The sounds she made went right to his cock—as did the look of rapture on her face.

Jesus
. He adjusted his breeches. A woman shouldn’t look like that unless she was naked
and under him.

She finished chewing and looked up at him, realizing he was watching her. “Don’t you
want any?”

He shook his head. “I’d rather watch you.” He reached over, running the pad of his
finger over her upper lip.

She sucked in her breath, wide-eyed.

He lowered his mouth to hers. “You have a little bit of sugar right here.”

He wanted to lick it off, but instead he swiped it with his finger and brought it
to his mouth. “Hmmm. Very sweet.”

Mary pulled back. “Why are you doing this? Why are you going to all this effort? What
do you want from me?”

It almost sounded like fear in her voice. “I want you.” He was surprised to realize
it was the truth. It wasn’t just about stung pride and proving she wasn’t immune;
it wasn’t just about winning her heart for his mission. He wanted her for himself.

“We’re already married. You have me.”

“Do I?” He smiled. “I very much doubt that.” He leaned back, eyeing her speculatively.
“What is it exactly that you object to?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’ll not hear a recitation of your finer points from me, my
lord. I’m sure you’ve heard them well enough from others.”

Perhaps she was right, but he was surprised how much he wanted to hear it from her.
Not her admiration but her respect. The thought made him frown. “I’ve never met a
woman like you.”

“One who doesn’t fall at your feet?”

She was teasing him, he realized. He shook his head. “You sound like my sister.”

“The one who was married at Dunstaffnage?”

“Aye, I only have one sister. Her name is Helen.”

A frown gathered between her brows. “I wish I’d had a chance to meet her. Whom did
she marry?”

“The son of the MacKay chief.”

Her eyes widened. Obviously she knew something of the feuding history between the
MacKays and the Sutherlands. “I remember meeting him. That must have been an interesting
wedding feast.”

He laughed. “It was. You should have seen Will trying to keep the peace. You’d have
to know my brother, but he’s one of the fiercest warriors I know and always ready
to fight. He’s not a peacemaker. I think he spent the better part of three days trying
to
prevent
fights by threatening to beat the men senseless if they did.”

“That sounds familiar,” she said with a smile. “I’m sure there must have been a lot
of fights between you when you were young.”

“Drubbings, you mean. One-sided, for the most part.”

“It’s hard to think of you being on the losing end.”

He shrugged as if it meant nothing to him. “It made me work harder. My brother made
me the warrior I am today.”

“You are close?”

Suddenly, he realized his mistake. Damn it. He’d been jabbering on as if he hadn’t
just broken from his family.

“
Were
close,” he corrected.

But from the way she was looking at him, he feared she’d picked up on the mistake
as well. “Why did you change your allegiance?”

Damn
. “It’s complicated,” he hedged, and then turned the question back to her. “Did you
ever consider returning to Scotland?”

A sharp look of pain crossed her face. She nodded.

“Aye. Once.”

“What happened?”

For a moment, he didn’t think she was going to answer. She reached over and picked
a piece of grass, making tiny knots over and over. “I lost my sister.”

She gave a brief rendition of what had happened. How her sister had appeared one night
at Ponteland to bring her home after Atholl’s arrest, how Sir Adam had arrived ahead
of the king’s men, how they’d raced across the countryside only to be caught in the
middle of the battle. “I’ll never forget that moment. One minute I was looking at
her and the next, the bridge exploded into flames. It must have been lightning, though
I didn’t recall hearing any before. There was a loud boom—the strangest thunder I’ve
ever heard—and then everything went black. I woke up, and my sister was gone.”

Something about the story niggled at his consciousness. “Sir Adam was there?”

She nodded. “I heard his voice right before I fell. He was a godsend. Were it not
for him, I’m sure David and I would have been imprisoned. He had his men look for
Janet for hours, but it was as if she’d vanished.”

All his instincts were hammering now. Could it be possible? God, if it were true,
it could be just what he needed.

“Do you remember anything about the smell?”

She gave him a puzzled look. “How strange that you should ask. I remember it smelled
like rotting eggs.”

Damn
. It was true. Sir Adam Gordon shared the same knowledge his nephew had. He knew how
to make black powder.

Mary knew she had said too much. She was supposed to be guarding her heart, and here
she was spilling all her secrets to him. But for such an outwardly hard and imposing
man, he was surprisingly easy to talk to. He listened, and actually seemed interested
in what she had to say, which was a novelty among men of his station. At least it
was in her experience. But she was beginning to realize that her experience wasn’t
the
only
experience. Kenneth was right; he wasn’t Atholl.

But eventually his interest in her—in this game—would wane, and when it did, she wasn’t
going to let him break her heart.

She was going to have to be careful, very careful. She could see how easy it would
be to slip and let herself believe in faerie tales and happy endings.

He had married her, given their child a name, and promised not to do anything reckless
that would put them in danger without telling her. It was enough. She would be content
with what she had.

And the passion. Aye, he’d given her that. She was going to savor every minute of
it, knowing that it wouldn’t last.

He was strangely contemplative after she’d told him about her sister. She finished
eating the bun, forcing herself not to eat the second, and accepted the wine he offered
her from a leather pouch to wash it down.

When she was finished, she handed the pouch back to him and reclined against one of
the large stones where he’d set the plaid.

It was still warm, and the sun felt so good on her face, she felt her eyes fluttering.

“You aren’t going to fall asleep again, are you?”

She blinked. How had he moved so close without her realizing it? “Are you ready to
leave?” Her heart was fluttering so fast, her words came out high-pitched and nervous.

One corner of his mouth curved in a very wicked smile. “Not quite yet.”

She thought about scooting away but knew it would be useless. He’d only catch her.
And kiss her. And make her dissolve into a mindless bundle of sensation.

She tried to sound unaffected. “What else did you have planned?”

He leaned closer, his mouth achingly close. She could smell the wine on his breath
and it was intoxicating.
He
was intoxicating. “Oh, I’m sure we can think of something.”

His mouth fell on hers with a groan that tore through her heart. It was only for a
moment, but long enough to make her breathless and hungry for more. His mouth slid
over her jaw, down her throat, to the bodice of her dress. He started to tug at it,
when she stopped him. “We can’t. Not here.”

“Why not?”

Wasn’t it obvious? “It’s the middle of the day. Anyone could see.”

He grinned. “There isn’t anyone around. I won’t undress you.”

She eyed him skeptically, not trusting him. “I thought you offered to take me on a
ride, not seduce me.”

A wicked glint appeared in his eye. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing and put
her on his lap so that she was facing and straddling him. She gasped, feeling the
hard swell of his erection against the intimate juncture between her thighs. “You’ll
have your ride, Mary.”

He lifted her over him and showed her exactly what he
meant. She muttered a protest, but only halfheartedly. She was hot and achy, her body
already melting for him.

With a quick fumble of his breeches, he released himself, and then a frantic heartbeat
later he surged inside her, impaling her on the long sword full hilt.

She cried out in pleasure. Wave after wave of delicious pleasure, as he showed her
how to ride him. How to find the perfect rhythm. How to take him in deep circular
strokes. How to take her pleasure.