To Conquer a Highlander Read online

  “I’d prefer a strike when ye are displeased with my words.”

  His lips parted to show her his teeth while a large, wolfish smile beamed at her. “But ye’ve no’ yet had a sample of the alternative.” His voice deepened, dropping low and turning husky. “Ye cannae make a good choice unless ye have experienced both, sweet Shannon.”

  “I’ll take yer word on the matter—”

  His mouth sealed whatever else she might have said inside her own. She turned her head away, but he followed her, the contact becoming a firm kiss that refused to allow her to escape. But it wasn’t hard. His hand cupped the back of her head to hold her captive, and still the hold wasn’t brutal.

  No, what was brutal was the assault on her senses.

  His lips were hot against her own, slipping along the sensitive surfaces while his tongue boldly licked along her lower lip. That unexpected action sent a shaft of hot delight through her. He enticed her to move in unison with him, and she discovered a need to do exactly that. She angled her face so that their lips met more completely, and the reward was sweet pleasure. It flooded her senses, intoxicating her. Her boldness drew him forward, almost in the moment that she moved to bring their lips closer together. His large body pressed against hers so that her softer curves yielded to his harder form. A gasp rose up and opened her mouth in spite of her initial thought to resist his kiss. He took instant advantage of her parted lips, pressing her mouth to open wider with his own. The hand cradling the back of her head tilted her face upward toward his, while his tongue invaded her mouth.

  She shivered but not in revulsion. Sweet sensation surged through her as powerful and uncontrollable as a spring river. She felt as helpless as a tree branch being tumbled in the turbulent current. The only solid thing in reach was Torin. Her hands sought out his strength, and she quivered once again when her fingertips landed on the hard ridges of muscles that were solid and unyielding, just as she’d imagined him to be.

  The church bell rang, its loudness raining reprimand down on them both. Torin stiffened, the hand cradling her neck tightening as though he wanted to refuse to release his captured prize. His eyes glittered with hunger that threatened to make true her hasty words. He looked pagan, felt like the legend that she’d heard whispered near the glowing remains of a fire late in the night when there was no clergy to warn them of the dangers of such stories. He muttered something in Gaelic, low and deep, before pushing himself away from her with the hand that was still flattened against the wall. His huge body was stiff with protest, and he turned his back on her for a long moment.

  She was grateful for that.

  So damned thankful for a moment to compose herself, she didn’t seem to have the strength to stand up on her own. Instead she leaned against the wall, using its sturdy construction to remain on her feet. Her entire body yearned to be pressed against his again. She wrapped her arms around herself because her body was so pitifully needy. It was not just in her sex, where she expected lust to pool; it raced along in her blood, touching every part of her. Little shivers of regret rippled over her skin, and her nipples had drawn into hard points that were irritated by the fabric of her undergown.

  The bell rang again, telling them that the service was drawing to a close. The sun had fully risen now, and even the most faithful had chores to be attended to. For certain she would welcome the McLeren women back, including their scowls.

  “As I said, Shannon McBoyd, you’d best take care what ye call me, for it appears I like to help you speak the truth.”

  “That is no’ fair to blame your lack of discipline on me.”

  He turned and tilted his head slightly, while considering her with an expression that told her little about his mood. She suddenly saw herself through his eyes and didn’t care for the picture she must make, leaning so feebly against the wall where he’d left her. Straightening her spine, she squared her shoulders once more.

  “But I suppose ye’ll just be telling me no’ to expect fairness from life.”

  That was a solid truth if ever she had known one. Better to speak it herself than listen to him tell her that.

  Torin shook his head, his lips rising just a bit at the corners to offer her a grin. He closed the distance between them as they both heard the church doors open. The sounds of the monks chanting drifted on the morning air.

  “I will tell ye again that ye will stay inside this tower or I will run ye down on the road.”

  “Because ye want to torment my clan by keeping me yer captive?”

  He shook his head and moved even closer. Her body responded instantly, her heart speeding up once again, but he stopped with a single pace between them. Hunger danced in his eyes, making her mouth go dry.

  “Yer father’s home is no sanctuary, and I’d be committing murder in allowing ye to return there before justice has been done. You’ll stay here, Shannon. Ye’ll be treated more fairly here than ye might be on yer father’s land when justice is handed out for his murdering my kin and plotting against the king.”

  His tone was hard, without any hint of yielding.

  “And I still say ye’d make a poor nun, the fact that you kissed me back confirming that ye are not meant to sleep in a cold virgin’s bed yer entire life.”

  “That does nae mean I will be lying in yer bed.” She had no idea where such boldness came from, but her words were spoken before she considered the challenge they presented to him. He’d already stolen her. Telling him that he couldn’t charm her into his bed was a sure way to get the Highlander to try his hand at seducing her.

  She suddenly understood why women were told to remain silent. But his teeth flashed at her, confirming that her knowledge came too late. There was a flare of unmistakable determination in his dark eyes now.

  “Well now, lass, we’ll be seeing if ye can keep yer eyes off me. I promise that I will nae ignore ye if you cast yer attention toward me.” He shrugged. “’Tis a barbarian code of honor.”

  ***

  “Brute.”

  Torin McLeren heard her, but he didn’t stop. Once he’d delivered his words, the laird had turned his back on her and started across his great hall. The longer pleats of his kilt swayed slightly with each powerful step. She wanted to scream. The urge was almost too great to ignore. Frustration nipped along her body, tormenting her with how much she noticed his warmth being gone now.

  Indeed, she wanted to yell like a child, and the hardest part to bear was the fact that she was frustrated by being denied what she craved.

  Which would never do.

  She couldn’t long for Torin McLeren. Not the man who had tied her wrists and imprisoned her amid people who hated the sight of her. There had to be a way to resist him. The rest of the women were chatting on their way back up the steps. They fell silent when they spied her.

  “Well, come on then. Ye seem to know a thing or two about kitchen work.”

  Shannon felt a tiny spark of satisfaction begin to burn away some of the heat Torin had left tormenting her.

  “I dinna know why that surprises ye. I’m no’ wearing velvet and pearls like some princess.”

  One of the McLeren women took offense, her eyes narrowing. “Ye have some nerve to be taking that tone.”

  “I offer ye what ye give me.” And Shannon discovered that she wasn’t in the mood to be sneered at. Torin was correct about one thing, she would make a poor nun, but only because she wasn’t meek.

  “Why you—”

  “Enough.”

  It was an older woman who spoke, and her voice carried authority. The other women looked to her with their lips pressed closed. She fingered the edge of her arisaid with wrinkled hands while her gaze swept Shannon from head to toe.

  “She speaks a truth. There be no cause for unkind tones. The lass does her share as well as you do.”

  “But Margot, she is a McBoyd.” The offended woman propped her ha
nds onto her hips, unwilling to accept being reprimanded. There were more than a few faces that tightened in agreement.

  The older woman lifted one charcoal eyebrow. “No one asked me who I’d like for me parents, Anise.”

  Anise lost a great deal of her confidence. “Well, I suppose that’s a fact. But there is still work to do.”

  The women followed Anise toward the hearths, while the men waited until they were summoned for the first meal of the day. Shannon followed the McLeren women because the idea of being left to stew in her own thoughts was far worse than suffering the scathing looks she gained. But there were no more insults, at least spoken ones. The older woman’s word was being heeded well and truly. The McLeren women turned to pressing her with multiple tasks, working her harder and harder, without any reprieve.

  Shannon gave them measure for measure right back. She paused in the back kitchen to wipe her forehead because sweat was beaded across it. Even with her breathing slightly too fast, she still smiled when she went back through the door frame and caught a few of the women looking surprised to see her so soon.

  She was stubborn, but for the moment that was in her favor. No one would be calling her lazy. At least they wouldn’t be speaking the truth if they did. That knowledge gave her satisfaction. It spread through her, burning away some of the despair that had lodged so deeply in her chest.

  ***

  “You have a troubled look on your brow.”

  Connor Lindsey spoke quietly, but that didn’t keep his words from irritating Torin.

  “You didna need to be poking about in me thoughts, man. Ye’re nae that good of a friend.”

  Connor offered him a smug smile. “Yes, I am, because if I were nae, I’d offer to take that little bit of fire out of here.”

  Torin growled. It was a sound that most men took notice of. Connor merely widened his lips to flash his teeth at him.

  “But I understand you well enough to know that you have set yer mind to finishing what ye have begun.”

  “Aye, that’s the truth of it. Ye may thank me for that when Douglas lays down his word on this matter. Being anywhere near Shannon McBoyd won’t be in any man’s favor.”

  Connor laughed, low and deep. “Her kiss would be worth it.”

  “You will never know what her kiss tastes like.”

  Torin shot his words off too quickly, but even knowing that his temper was misplaced did not make him regret them. Things were becoming more complicated than even he’d thought they might. Shannon McBoyd was sweet. Her lips had a taste that was going to haunt him, and that was for certain. Torin watched Shannon as she tended to a chore of cutting meat. There was no hesitation in her motions, no hint of sickness because her task included raw meat. It was a fact that her father had not allowed her an idle life beneath his roof. His clanswomen were testing her, working her harder than they themselves were toiling; in short, they were trying to break her.

  Torin had to resist the impulse to intercede, and that surprised him. A protective urge was worming its way up from inside him, but his help wasn’t needed. He watched his kin frowning when Shannon rose to their challenge, with a satisfied look on her face.

  He found that impressive, which led him back to frowning at his captive. She finished the piece in front of her and carried it toward one of the large iron kettles that the women were beginning a stew in. His fingers curled on the tabletop when he noticed the wool clinging to her long braid.

  “Baeth.”

  His head of house looked up without any fear. The woman had run the house for his father, and she knew her duty well, even when that included dealing with his displeasure. Baeth made her way in a steady pace toward the high table.

  “Laird?”

  “Where did ye place my… guest last night?”

  Baeth ran his entire house: there was no woman set above her in authority. She had a sharp wit and wisdom from her years. She blew out a soft breath, surprising him because it was very rare that the woman admitted she had failed at anything, but she never lowered her gaze. “’Tis a shameful truth that I neglected the lass, and my staff followed my example. I was with my son last night, Laird.”

  Torin felt his temper rise. He was accustomed to better control over his emotions, but the heat threatened to boil over in spite of years of learning to temper his words. Being laird meant thinking before he spoke. His words were often taken as law. That was a responsibility that his father had spent many an hour trying to instill in him, even though Torin had not been in the direct line to claim the McLeren lairdship. His uncle had been laird, but his fine, noble-blooded wife had never produced any children. Torin’s father married a girl he had fallen in love with; she’d come with nothing but that affection. Without ties to noble houses, Torin had not been favored to inherit. His father had raised him to temper his words in case fate decided he should be laird.

  “Where would ye like the lass to sleep?” Baeth asked the question quietly, waiting to see what he would do with a captive. Although stolen brides were not uncommon in the Highlands, a stolen woman who wasn’t being claimed by a man was. Half his kin were already assuming that he’d be enjoying Shannon McBoyd in every sense.

  Guilt chewed on him because his cock didn’t think that was such a bad idea, which made him the barbarian Shannon McBoyd had labeled him. But if he didn’t claim her, some of his men would consider trying their hand at taking the vengeance they craved to take on her kin on her. He’d have to keep her close or risk failing to protect her as his father had taught him to do. Maybe his sire was gone now, but honor was something that did not pass on the wings of death. Torin was grateful to his father for teaching him to hold himself accountable, even when it was difficult.

  Having Shannon McBoyd beneath his roof was going to test him, and that was a solid fact.

  “Place her in the south chamber, on the second floor.”

  Baeth’s eyes widened slightly, but she held her tongue. His own chamber was one floor above, and everyone would begin speculating about why she was sleeping so close to him. If he gave her a chamber near the other maids, his men would begin trying to charm her before the month was out. Her McBoyd name wouldn’t keep the men from noticing how bonny her face was.

  It hadn’t kept him from noticing how sweet her kiss was. Baeth began to turn away, breaking him out of his thoughts.

  “And I will be most unhappy to see her wearing muddy robes again. This tower is nae so poor that anyone I bring here should be reduced to wearing travel-stained garments.”

  Baeth lowered herself in a quick curtsy. “As ye wish, Laird.” She turned and began her way back toward the women who worked under her command. Their hands still moved, but they had fallen silent in an effort to hear what was being said. When the head of house displeased the laird, they could expect to feel her wrath, even if he did consider the woman fair.

  “Ye left her loose?”

  Connor was not teasing now. From one laird to another, the man wanted to know if he had gone soft in his thinking.

  “I am no’ in the practice of imprisoning women. If she were a man, I’d have clamped her in chains as I did with that traitor her father sent her to.” He paused, thinking about what keeping Shannon McBoyd loose in his hall had led to this morning. Connor raised an eyebrow when he grew silent too long.

  “She has nae given me any reason to treat her unkindly. It is her father whom I’ve business with.” Frustration edged his words, while his attention remained on Shannon.

  “Well, she’s the one ye’ve got drawing yer gaze now.”

  “Only because I’ll no’ see any woman mistreated who has nae earned such.”

  Connor didn’t respond, but there was a guarded look on his friend’s face that Torin had seen before. The man knew him too well.

  “Do nae look at me like that.”

  Connor ignored the warning, his expression becoming more pensi
ve. “Ye sent for me because ye knew this was bigger than McLeren or Lindsey.”

  “She is a woman and no’ part of what her male kin are doing. Don’t ye have a Chattan bride waiting for ye whom ye dealt with her father for? Shannon McBoyd obeyed her father, and that is not a sin.”

  Connor abandoned his hard stance. “Aye, I see yer point there.”

  “I’ll be treating the woman gently until she gives me reason to change that.”

  “Fair enough.” Connor turned a smug look toward him. “Who knows? She might grow on ye. It certainly looked that way this morning, while everyone was in church.”

  Torin snarled softly, but his friend only chuckled.

  “What’s the matter, Torin? Did ye think because I’ve got a bride contracted that I’ve gone blind and cannae see what a sweet little guest ye have? Or that I’d no’ do exactly the same as ye and keep a good eye on where she is?”

  “From what I hear of yer bride, ye’d better reconsider what takes yer notice.”

  Connor sobered, his eyes filling with dark thoughts. “Well, that’s another matter, my friend. One I’ll be looking into once this matter with Atholl is finished. I have heard the rumors as well.”

  Torin lifted an eyebrow, but Connor shook his head. There was a set to the man’s face that disturbed Torin, but the matter with the king was more pressing. Connor Lindsey had come to the position of laird unexpectedly, but he was a good one. The man did not place his own troubles before those of the clan.

  “I’ll be waiting to hear yer tale, my friend.”

  Connor shrugged. “As ye pointed out, I contracted her through her father. If my bride has set her heart on another, I’ll have to seek a bride someplace else. Maybe I’ll do ye a favor and take young Shannon there. Douglas will most likely hang her father and brothers, leaving the lass in need of a husband.”