The Highlander’s Bride Trouble Page 16

  It was a weakness he could never afford.

  ***

  The water was cold but refreshing. Nareen used the soap twice in her hair before deciding she was clean enough. The wind chilled her when it hit her bare skin, raising goose bumps. She’d have to suggest some shutters to block it.

  She frowned. She wasn’t staying with Saer. That simply couldn’t be.

  “Mistress?”

  Nareen started. She pulled a length of linen off a hook and wrapped herself in it. She heard footsteps approaching from inside the chambers.

  “There ye are.” An older woman appeared in the arch. She had wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, but her hair was still dark where it peeked out from beneath a cap. “I’ll stir up the fire, mistress.”

  It had been a long time since she had been called mistress. Nareen paused, tempted almost beyond measure just to let Saer have his way. His offer was a good one.

  She moved into the chamber. A flash came from the hearth as the woman struck a flint, and brilliant sparks fell into a small pile of tinder she’d placed in the hearth. She bent down and blew on it. Smoke began to rise in thick tendrils until it burst into a bright orange flame.

  “I am Gitta,” she offered as she added wood to the growing fire. “I served the laird’s sister, Daphne, but she’s wed and with her husband these days.” The fire cracked and popped as it caught. Heat began to fill the chamber.

  “I’ve been acting as head of house,” Gitta offered gently as she moved to close the terrazzino doors nearest the hearth. She moved on and closed the next set as well. “I’d best find ye a dressing robe before yer supper arrives.”

  The chamber was magnificent, but Nareen realized it lacked wardrobes. There was only a single one near the bed, and when Gitta fitted one of the large keys hanging from her belt into the lock, she opened the doors to reveal precious little.

  “After Sauchieburn, we were raided several times,” she said in explanation.

  There was only a single dressing robe, and Gitta pulled it out. She brought it to Nareen, holding it wide for her to slip her hand into the sleeve. Nareen hesitated, the time she’d spent serving Abigail making it feel strange to be served.

  Someone knocked on the outer door, and she thrust her hand into the sleeve. She turned just as the doors were opened and Gitta finished closing the robe around her bare front.

  Two maids and a young boy entered. They all stopped and lowered themselves.

  “That is nae necessary,” Nareen said.

  The maids’ eyes narrowed in confusion as they each carried a platter to the table. The boy held a wooden goblet and earthenware pitcher. He set the pitcher down and used a pressed square of linen to wipe the inside surface of the goblet before he set it down. One of the maids had placed a small bowl of salt on the table. The boy took two pinches of it and sprinkled them on the plate the maid had set out for Nareen. He broke off a piece of bread and wiped the salt around the edge of the plate.

  He moved behind the large chair and pulled it out for her now that the plate was cleansed of any poison. The ritual made her shiver, because it meant Saer was not completely confident in his place.

  Of course he would be concerned.

  She sat down, and the maids lifted covers off the dishes they had brought. There was meat, cheese, and fruit. It was nothing compared to the feasts laid out in the Ross castle. But it was more than enough.

  The maids lowered themselves, then left. Nareen started eating before she realized Gitta was standing behind her.

  “I do nae need service.”

  The older woman looked skeptical.

  “I am very well on me own.”

  She knew the woman’s feet must be aching from the long day. No head of house was idle. It was a coveted position, the ring of keys hanging from Gitta’s belt a symbol of her authority. Those keys unlocked the cabinets where costly things, like spices and clothing, were kept. If anything went missing, Gitta would have to answer for it.

  Gitta finally nodded. But she went to the large bed and turned down the bedding. When she finished, she stopped in front of the table Nareen was seated at.

  “Do ye wish private meals?”

  Nareen shook her head before she realized she was agreeing to appear in the Hall. Gitta didn’t notice though. She’d lowered herself and started for the door as Nareen battled the idea of sitting next to Saer in front of his clan.

  The fact that she hadn’t accepted his suit wouldn’t matter. Actions spoke louder than words. Of course, Saer preferred action too. But if she didn’t appear in the Hall, she’d be saddling the servants with the chore of bringing her meals to her. No one needed to do tasks that were not essential. She’d be selfish to add to the burden of the staff.

  She sighed and took a long look around the chamber. It was sparse, but even the lack of carpets impressed her. Saer was earning his way. He was proving himself worthy of the position of laird.

  She stood and moved over to the wardrobe Gitta had left unlocked. Inside were only three shirts and a single doublet of thick wool for winter. She lifted one of the sleeves and found the cuff worn. It had been repaired, and the patches were almost worn through.

  Saer was wise. He was building up his fortress before spending resources on luxuries like new clothes and carpets. After all, what good were fine things if you could not protect them? He was also building a clan.

  She walked out onto the terrazzino and looked over the half wall at the courtyard below. Small fires burned to provide light. The workers were enjoying tipping back their mugs as music filled the yard. Some couples danced, and others moved off into the shadows to enjoy each other’s company.

  She felt herself turning to look at the bed. Just like Saer, it was large and solid.

  The night breeze picked up her hair, helping to dry it. She tipped her head back and filled her lungs, but she still saw the bed.

  Saer wanted to found a dynasty in it. With her.

  Was that so bad?

  Maybe he had a point about what sort of life she would have if she returned to Grant land. Yet nothing was without cost. If she stayed, she’d have to promise Saer obedience.

  She wasn’t sure she could keep such a vow.

  Fatigue was pressing her. With her belly full, the comfort of the bed called to her.

  She walked back into the chamber. There was no reason to be stubborn. Gitta had left out a wooden comb. Nareen pulled it through her hair before climbing into the bed. The sheeting was smooth and fresh smelling. The scent of heather quickly lulled her to sleep.

  She’d decide how to leave in the morning. Or maybe, she’d just decide.

  Something.

  ***

  She was a beauty, Saer thought as he stood beside the bed and contemplated Nareen. It was little wonder her cousin had tried to sell her.

  Her hair was as black as a raven’s feathers. When she was awake, her emerald eyes made for a startling combination. He moved closer to the bed, reaching out to stroke her cheek. Her skin was creamy and flawless. Her black eyelashes made a perfect half moon against her cheeks.

  But that wasn’t what drew him to her. It was something else, something deeper. And it pleased him greatly to find her sleeping in his bed. For certain, trust was growing between them.

  He set his sword against the wall by the side of the bed where he usually slept, and sat down in one of the chairs to take off his boots. The fire had died down to cinders, leaving the room lit mostly by the moonlight coming through one of the open doors.

  He smiled as he felt the breeze blowing in. She hadn’t shut the door. They had more in common than she wanted to admit.

  He finished and stood up silently, resisting the urge to wake her. His cock was standing firm when he removed his kilt and shirt, but he forced himself to slide into the bed without jos
tling Nareen.

  Desire she’d already admitted to. What he craved was an admission of trust. Entering his bed of her own will was just that. He moved closer and filled his lungs with the scent of her skin. His cock ached, but he smiled. He was more content than he could ever recall being. At least since he was small enough to think the solace of his mother’s embrace was all he needed.

  He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the scent. It sent a spike of arousal through him and a need to have his skin in contact with her.

  Any way possible.

  ***

  “Look here…”

  Nareen kicked at the bedding, but the dream was too strong. It closed its claws around her and dragged her deep into the nightmare where her cousin Ruth’s face rose up to torment her.

  “So sweet and fresh…” Ruth exclaimed gleefully. “A tight virgin.”

  Nareen tried to smother her whimpers, detesting her fear. But it was like a demon, overpowering her and taking command of her senses.

  “She’s full of spirit too…”

  Someone reached for her. From out in the darkness, where her cousin laughed merrily at her torment.

  “Yer spirit is what I crave…”

  Her fear exploded into terror as the groping hands were suddenly attached to Saer. She thrashed, trying to fling him off her, losing the battle to scream as she felt him closing his embrace around her…

  ***

  “Nareen!”

  There was a sting against her cheek, and it broke the hold of the dream. She opened her eyes, screaming when she looked into the dark eyes of the man from her nightmare.

  “Come back to me, lass,” Saer demanded. He cupped the sides of her face, drawing in a harsh breath when she dug her claws into his bare chest.

  “’Twas a dream,” he said softly.

  “A…dream…” Her tongue felt clumsy in her mouth, and her heart was pounding so hard it was almost impossible to draw in breath. Her lungs hurt, and her body ached like she had been straining.

  “Easy, lass…” he cooed softly, stroking her hair back from her face. “It was a dream.”

  “A nightmare.” She managed to swallow and rolled her lips to moisten them. “I’m well.” She pushed against him, but he shook his head.

  “Ye are nae.”

  She glared at him, recognizing his tone too well. “I’ve had a bellyful of demands, Saer MacLeod. Let me be.”

  His eyes narrowed, but he surprised her by releasing her head and rolling onto his back. “So why don’t ye make some of yer own?”

  “Ye never listen to me demands.”

  “I do indeed,” he answered softly, enticingly. “When ye wrapped yer thighs around me hips and demanded satisfaction, I met yer demands well and truly.”

  She growled at him. “And ye believe now is a good time to remind me of that?”

  He nodded firmly. “The alternative is to fight off going back to sleep, because ye know that memory will be waiting for ye. Come here and make a new one, one with ye in control.”

  He was far too perceptive. His proposition had a tantalizing appeal. But she started to shake her head. “I told ye, I cannae trust any man. Ye must understand.”

  He rolled onto his side and stroked the side of her face. It was a tender touch, but she flinched, still caught in the hold of her nightmare. She knew he was watching her, so she swallowed and felt the tension easing. When he stroked her skin again, it was slower. A shiver moved through her, but one that pleased her because it banished the world of her past in favor of the moment she was in.

  “I understand,” he whispered. “I understand waking in the dead of night and wondering if the wolf I hear growling is going to tear me throat out before I kill him.” He smoothed her hair from her face and softly kissed her cheek. “I know I hear that wolf from time to time and feel the sting of regret for having to kill it, because it was just as hungry as I was.”

  He rolled back onto his back. “And I know that the only way I ever found peace was by training hard enough to ensure that I had the strength to defend myself.”

  Confusion held her in its grip until he tossed the bedding off his body. His cock stood up, swollen with need.

  “Come here, Nareen. Do everything ye feared having done to ye. Demand what was demanded of ye, and grow strong enough to nae fear anything that might have been done to yer body.”

  It was ludicrous. Sinful to be sure. Wanton. But the idea felt surprisingly right and pleasing.

  Boldness took hold inside her, burning away the remnants of the nightmare. It was an addictive feeling. It grew so quickly, she was already moving toward him before she decided how she wanted to touch him.

  But her memory offered her options. The same words that had been rising up from her nightmare, like suggestions from the devil himself, became ideas capable of reclaiming control over her emotions.

  Nareen rolled over and reached for his member. It was smooth and hot and thick. He sucked in his breath, stiffening as she teased it with the tips of her fingers. His skin was so soft, like velvet beneath her fingertips. But it covered a staff that was hard as steel. She grasped him and slid her closed hand down to the base of his cock.

  Saer’s words rose from her memory, pleasing her immensely. She enjoyed that memory far more and was eager to make new ones to bury the past beneath their weight.

  She came up on her knees next to his belly and pumped her hand along his length a few more times. His face was drawn tight, and she felt her lips curl up with delight.

  “Ye said ‘everything’?” she questioned boldly.

  “Aye,” he answered roughly.

  Anticipation tightened in her belly, sending a twist of need through her passage. Her body was heating up, making it comfortable to leave the bedding behind.

  “Even wrap me lips around yer…cock.” She forced the word out, refusing to be afraid of it any longer.

  His expression tightened, anger glittering in his eyes. He sat up and grasped her shoulder. “Did that bitch make ye perform that service?”

  He was furious, the rage hot enough to feel. But she stared at it, fascinated by the protectiveness in him.

  “Nareen?” he growled. “Tell me.”

  She shook her head and stroked his member.

  “Then how do ye know about frenching?”

  “Me cousin offered to sell it, and I was at court.”

  “I should have hung her,” he snarled.

  “Yet ye know what it is…” Nareen stroked his cock again. “And the look in yer eyes tells me ye have experience with it…”

  His eyes narrowed. “So I am being overly offended? Is that yer point, lass?”

  She drew her hand up to the top of his length and teased the spot beneath the crown with her thumb. When she raised her gaze back to his, his lips were pressed into a hard line as he fought to maintain his composure.

  “I believe me question is, do ye want me ignorant? For if ye do, I’ll remind ye that I asked to be taken home to me brother, for I will never play act the part of a simpleton.”

  He grabbed another pillow and put it behind his head, then settled back. The position was less relaxed, less submissive, and she felt a response ripple through her. It was just there, in defiance of everything she had decided she wanted. Without question, she enjoyed his arrogance.

  Damn her weak flesh.

  But she was going to use her own cravings to serve her needs tonight. She toyed with his length, stroking it with just her fingertips before closing her hand around it again. His expression changed, becoming more rakish, and her breath caught. There was a pleasure to be had in seeing him enjoy her touch, and it filled her with boldness.

  She lowered her gaze to his cock. The crown was marked with a ridge of flesh and a slit. She teased it with her fingers before l
eaning down to lick it.

  “Christ,” he growled, his breathing labored.

  She looked up to find his chest rising and falling quickly. Moonlight spilled in through the open doors, making her smile. This was no pitch-black chamber making her feel like she was locked away.

  She leaned down again and licked all the way around the crown. He hardened even more, becoming rigid. Saer gripped the sheet beneath him as she watched him through her eyelashes. She opened her mouth wide enough to take him. His skin smelled clean and was silken smooth against her tongue. She licked the slit and watched him go as tight as a bowstring.

  It was arousing in a way she’d never expected—part power and part enjoyment of knowing he liked what she was doing. She leaned farther down, taking more of his length inside her mouth. He jerked, thrusting toward her face as she heard him demand, “Enough, Nareen.”

  “Nae nearly so,” she instructed him softly. With his cock wet, it was easier to work her hands up and down his length. “I think it is far past time for ye to be the one being driven mad.”

  He curled up and caught her hair. “I have been, lass. Why do ye think I left me land to find ye?”

  There was a force in his eyes that sent a shiver through her. She wasn’t even sure if it was physical or emotional, only that it was so intense, she nearly moaned.

  She tilted her head, and he released her hair. Leaning over, she drew her tongue along the side of his cock, lapping him from root to crest in one long swipe.

  “Aye…” he rasped.

  It was more of a sound than a word, and it pleased her greatly. She leaned over the other side of his length and licked it too. When she made it to the top, she opened her mouth and sucked him deep inside.

  “Aye!”

  She tightened her fingers around the portion she couldn’t take, pumping her hand up and down as he began to thrust again. The first drop of his seed filled the slit, and she licked it away with a bold lap.

  He groaned, his body tightening even more. But she didn’t release him. She sucked harder, until her cheeks hollowed against his cock. Her fingers moved up and down on the base several times before he snarled and his seed began to fill her mouth. She swallowed it. Sucking every last drop of it away as he cursed.