Wicked Highland Ways Page 9

  “Just seems like all the pair of ye need is a little less distance between ye.” Maddox nodded with a gleam in his eyes. “Once ye’re together…well…nature can take its course.”

  “Go and check the horses,” Bothan growled. “I’ll handle the courting of me own wife, thank you kindly.”

  “Better to let her handle ye…” Maddox got in a parting jab before he ambled away toward the horses.

  There was naught Bothan wanted more.

  And yet he realized he did indeed want something more than a victory won through overwhelming her.

  But Maddox was correct in one matter. Bothan and Brenda had something they needed to discuss.

  And Bothan had never been a man to avoid a challenge.

  * * *

  They rode hard again but stopped before the sun set. Brenda slid from her saddle with a little sigh of relief. She knew how to ride, but so many hours in the saddle had her backside aching. Her skin felt like leather, dry and caked with dirt. One of Bothan’s retainers took her horse, offering her the opportunity to venture to the river’s edge and wash.

  The water was cold.

  Very cold.

  Brenda didn’t let the chill stop her from cupping handfuls of it and splashing it onto her face. During the day, she’d bound her hair up in a length of fabric to keep the dust out of it. Now, she unwound the linen and used it to scrub her face and neck. Her skin was chilled, but it tingled too, leaving her delighted by the clean feeling.

  Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew a comb. The sun was still on the horizon, promising her enough light to finish cleaning up. Reaching into her hair, she dug out the pins. After two days, her braids were fuzzy. Working the comb through the stands took patience, but her hair eventually rose into a fluffy cloud because of how long it had been braided.

  “Ye’re a stunning woman,” Bothan said from behind her.

  Brenda jumped. The sound of the water had filled her ears, making it possible for Bothan to approach without her realizing it.

  “I’d no’ allow ye to be at risk,” he informed her as he stood. He’d clearly been watching her for some time, crouched low near the tree line, the muted colors of his plaid helping him to blend in with the foliage.

  “Ye know ye are fetching though,” he continued, his gaze on her unbound hair.

  “A fact that has brought me naught but grief,” she replied as she stood and came up the riverbank. Sensation was prickling along her spine, some sort of awareness of him and the fact that they were very much alone.

  Bothan met her before she’d come very far, standing in her path with his feet braced shoulder-width apart. She was no stranger to men, and yet he struck her as harder and larger than any others.

  Stop being childish…he is but a man…

  Fine advice, only she couldn’t seem to make herself heed it. With Bothan, she responded, her composure slipping from her grip like grains of sand. The harder she tried to maintain her hold, the more it escaped through her fingers.

  He reached out for her hair. Brenda felt her breath catch as a jolt of need went through her belly. She stepped back, earning a scowl from Bothan.

  “Why do ye act as though me touch is something that revolts ye?” Bothan asked gruffly. “Ye enjoyed me kiss full well.”

  “Only after ye insisted,” Brenda said, defending herself.

  Bothan’s eyes narrowed. “Ye have no’ even tried to like me, woman.”

  She hadn’t, but Brenda refused to ponder her reasoning. Instead she raised her chin and leveled a firm gaze at him. “I have no reason to long to be chattel again. Me uncle granted me freedom to be my own woman.”

  She’d meant her words to be a hard refusal of anything further. It was the truth that she was trying to anger him enough to be disgusted with her stubbornness. Instead, he tilted his head to one side, his expression softening. After a moment of contemplation, he extended his hand, offering it to her.

  “What are ye thinking, Bothan Gunn?” she demanded. At least Brenda had intended her words to be sharp and cutting. Instead her tone had turned husky and breathless as anticipation of being in contact with his flesh had undermined her efforts to push him away.

  “I’m thinking what I found worthy of leaving me home in order to court ye was yer nature,” he replied. “If it was a fair face I’d wanted in a bride, ye can be certain I might have found one among the offers I have from men who would have an alliance with the Gunns.”

  Brenda felt her breath catch again. This time emotion was surging through her, one she really couldn’t name, and yet she knew without a doubt that she liked it.

  Liked it a lot.

  Bothan knew it too. He read her indecision in her face as though they had some connection between them that went far beyond the normal understanding between a man and a woman.

  An intimacy…

  Brenda stepped back, unwilling to allow him so close to her thoughts. They were the only thing she might never be forced to share.

  “A contracted bride does nae have the right to refuse me touch once I have fulfilled me duty in wedding her,” Bothan continued.

  “I told ye firmly I had no wish to wed ye,” Brenda countered.

  His face darkened. “Aye, ye did. Plenty of others heard it too.”

  She’d been harsh. Brenda felt her cheeks heat in shame. She knew well how deeply unkindness cut. Declaring to one and all at the English court that she did not want to wed Bothan had been overly harsh.

  Bothan’s gaze touched on her cheeks, his lips twitching up in approval over the color staining her face. He beckoned her with his fingers.

  “Choose me, Brenda,” Bothan encouraged her. His tone was dark with promise. “Ye went to Bhaic MacPherson because ye were no’ content with the way yer husband had left ye unsatisfied. It was no’ affection that sent ye into his bed but passion and a need to discover whether women might feel pleasure during bed sport.”

  “Ye would have me, knowing I willingly bedded one of yer fellow lairds?” she asked.

  He lowered his hand. The motion sent a shaft of fear through her. Had she said the one thing he could not accept?

  “A timid, submissive bride I might have contracted with easily enough,” he replied. “I came back for ye…for the passion I saw in yer eyes. The passion that would no’ allow ye to live yer life without tasting it. I want that passion in our union.”

  Brenda was captivated by his response. So much so she didn’t realize Bothan was closing the distance between them. She tipped her head back to maintain eye contact with him. There was a flicker of intent in his eyes that enthralled her.

  “And I will have ye choose to give it to me,” he rasped out as he closed his arms around her.

  He didn’t kiss her though.

  Brenda gasped as Bothan slipped around her. Oh, he had her sure enough, his larger arms wrapping behind her, securing her to his body as she shuddered. The contact between their bodies was a hard blow to her weakening composure, like the sun hitting the ice on a roof. At some point, it would crack, and all the water would flow out from beneath it.

  “I will no’ take ye, Brenda,” Bothan whispered against her ear.

  She tried to break his hold, earning a chuckle from him. Behind her, his chest rumbled with the sound while she felt his heat warming her as though she’d been freezing without the contact.

  “But I promise,” Bothan continued, “I will tempt ye.”

  He buried his face in the cloud of her hair. She heard him inhale deeply as his hands rubbed her from shoulder to elbow in sure strokes. Delight spread out over her skin. Beneath her bodice, her nipples drew into tight little points that begged to be released from the hard confines of the garment.

  Somehow she’d forgotten how nice it was to be touched. Or maybe she hadn’t ever known and was learning it now.

  With him.

&nb
sp; “I do nae want a girl for me wife, Brenda,” he continued softly. “Ye are a woman, hardened by life’s circumstances.” Bothan lifted his head for a moment. “I am sorry for yer past, but I admire the fact that ye’ve chosen to live in spite of the harshness ye have suffered.”

  “I will no’ let them break me.” Perhaps she should have kept her words to herself. But they were across her lips before she’d really thought about them. The truth was she didn’t want to waste time on contemplation.

  No, she wanted to sink into the wave of sensation Bothan was stirring in her with his touch. Brenda tilted her head to the side, and Bothan needed no further encouragement. He pressed his lips to the tender skin of her neck, sending a ripple of pleasure down her body. Buried between the folds of her slit, her little pearl was awakening. Brenda knew what it craved, and she knew full well Bothan could give it to her.

  Did she dare?

  It wasn’t truly a matter of what she thought she wanted. Her body was hungry for passion. For all that Bhaic had shown her the pleasure there might be in bed sport, Bothan touched something deeper inside her. A wildness that craved only one thing, and that was to be taken so very completely that there was nothing except the moment.

  “But I will tame ye, Brenda,” Bothan declared softly. He seemed to know her thoughts.

  “Ye will…nae…” Her denial didn’t leave her mouth with the hard tone she’d intended.

  No, instead she sounded breathless as Bothan slipped his hand into her bodice and boldly cupped her breast. Brenda arched, unable to stop herself from reacting. His hand felt perfect there holding her breast. Pleasure surged through her, drowning her thoughts. What was left was the churning need flicking in her insides.

  “I will,” he promised as he gripped her breast and kissed her neck again.

  This time he bit her. Bared his teeth and nipped her skin. The little touch of pain broke through another barrier she hadn’t realized she had. Now, her instincts were rising up, shoving aside everything she’d decided she wanted from life in favor of what she craved.

  Wildness…

  It was a living force inside her. Bothan felt it, sensed it. What filled her with anticipation was the way he acted upon it. He’d pulled them around so his back was to a large section of rock. Reaching down, he grasped her skirt and raised it up as he lifted one foot and placed it on a smaller rock in front of them. The evening air touched her bare thighs a moment before he was hooking her knee, lifting her foot off the ground, and opening her thighs as he dropped her leg over his.

  “And ye will enjoy me showing ye the merit of being me wife,” Bothan declared boldly.

  She lifted her eyelids, wondering just when she’d allowed them to slide close. The action afforded her a view of Bothan pulling her skirts up once more. This time, he flattened his right hand on the inside of her bare thigh while holding her against him with his left arm.

  “I smell yer heat, lass…” he muttered gruffly as he stroked the inside of her leg.

  It should have been impossible to enjoy a touch so much.

  The level of intensity made no sense, and yet Brenda couldn’t deny it. She was arching once more, leaning back against Bothan as he cupped her slit.

  “So…wet…” he told her darkly. “But I will nae claim ye…no’ yet…”

  He stroked her slit. Brenda felt her breath catch. Her clit was throbbing so hard she felt like climax would take only a slight touch.

  Bothan denied her that.

  Instead he teased her, drawing his fingers along the outside edge of her slit.

  “Did ye think I would give ye release quickly?” he asked as he rimmed the opening of her body with one fingertip.

  “Stop toying with me,” she begged.

  He offered her a soft sound of amusement before pressing his fingertip inside her. She jerked, her hips flexing toward him, attempting to push more of his length into her.

  “Ye can be sure I plan to play with ye, lass.” Bothan drew his finger up her slit until it was poised over her clit.

  Brenda let out a little moan.

  “And there is the reason why,” Bothan muttered darkly against her ear. He flicked his fingertip across her clit. “I want to hear the sounds ye make when my touch pleasures ye.”

  He renewed the motion on her clit, and there was no way she could have contained the sound of her pleasure. The level of it was simply too high, too intense. Bothan held her secure to his body as he rubbed her clit, pressing down on the little bundle of nerve endings while she was being driven closer and closer to the edge of madness.

  There was no hesitating on her part. She went gladly into the storm of need. Bothan was the only solid thing in her world as he pressed her toward the final moment of rapture. It burst inside her, burning her with an intensity that left her mouth open, but no sound came from her because every muscle she had was clenching tight in that instant of pleasure. She was twisting and turning as it surged through her, racing up her body from the point at the top of her slit where his hand rested.

  Brenda ended up lax and spent in his embrace. Without his support, she would have collapsed into a heap at his feet. Instead, he held her tight to his body as he sent her skirts down to cover her.

  “Ye enjoy me touch well,” Bothan said a few moments later. “The ride home will give ye time to accept our union.”

  Brenda blinked. Her mind didn’t want to do anything more than curl up and sleep. He’d reduced her to a boneless heap, and her temper stirred.

  “I do nae want a husband.” She lifted her leg off his and moved away from him.

  Bothan let her go, but gaining her freedom only allowed her to notice just how weak her knees were.

  Brenda turned to send him a glare, only to fear his keen gaze saw far too much of the weakness she was trying so hard to keep hidden from him. The tops of her thighs were wet, and his lips were curved into a smug, male grin.

  “Ye want me,” he informed her gruffly. “As yer lover.”

  Bothan lifted his fingers to his nose. She watched the way he inhaled the scent of her body from the fluid lingering on his fingers. His eyes closed to slits as hunger drew his features tight.

  “Ye wanted far more than I just gave ye,” Bothan declared. He reached out and grabbed a handful of her skirt. He was looming over her a moment later, the scent of his skin filling her senses and stirring hunger inside her once more.

  She did want more…

  It was a harsh truth that couldn’t be denied. At least to herself.

  “I’m going to give it to ye, lass,” Bothan promised her as he held her in front of him. “But no’ until ye demand it of me.”

  He smothered her reply beneath his mouth, claiming her lips in a kiss. The grip on her skirt ensured she stayed in place, but the demand of his kiss stole her breath. She wanted to resist him, but the reality was that inside her that wildness was impossible to ignore. Denying him was fighting her own nature.

  There was no possible way.

  So she kissed him back. Reached up and gripped his shirt to hold him in place as she rose onto her toes so she could take from him as much as he did from her. She heard him groan. Felt the way he wrapped his arms around her body, binding her to him as he cupped her nape to contain her even further.

  Brenda slid her hand up and into his hair in response. She wasn’t going to be taken.

  Bothan pulled away though, putting her from him when she refused to release him. Brenda glared at him, listening to her own breath as it rasped through her teeth.

  His lips rose once again. There was a glitter of male victory in his eyes that drew a snarl from her. Bothan chuckled in response. The rogue reached up and tugged on the corner of his bonnet before he winked at her.

  He was gone a moment later, climbing away from the river’s edge on steps she was forced to admit she didn’t hear. Bothan was hardened and ver
y adapted to his environment. Even among Highlanders, he was considered dangerous. A man any wise person thought twice about crossing or disagreeing with.

  She let out a little huff and adjusted her bodice so her breasts were in the correct position.

  Well, she would be defying him.

  And he deserved nothing less.

  He knew she was unbridled. The very first time they’d spoken he’d confirmed he knew the gossips had plenty to say about her. And none of it was good.

  Aye, unbridled…and she would be staying that way.

  * * *

  Bothan was watching her.

  Brenda found his gaze on her more than once during the next few days.

  Ye must not allow his intentions to sway ye…

  She had difficulty listening to her own words of advice. Worse still was the twinge of foreboding that refused to be banished.

  “Ye have no’ even tried to like me, woman…”

  His words rang in her ears like the church bell did when she was trying to be lazy and sleep through morning mass, the sound attempting to draw her back to good choices instead of lingering in laziness.

  “Ye enjoyed me kiss full well…”

  She had, and Bothan didn’t know the full extent of the truth either. Bhaic MacPherson had been her lover, and she’d learned that a woman might in truth find enjoyment in bed sport. But she’d never been so consumed by Bhaic’s kiss.

  Not in the way Bothan’s lingered in her thoughts. As though she was making a grave miscalculation in not exploring her reaction to his touch.

  Bothan was pressing hard. He didn’t call a halt to their day until the sun was sinking. When he did, there was a flurry of activity as they all worked to build a camp before night fell.

  The labor kept her mind occupied, and once that was done, there was darkness to take shelter in. The men were clustered around the fire. They laughed as they told stories, jesting with one another. They wouldn’t have forbidden her to sit with them, but the truth was she was avoiding Bothan.

  “I see ye’re thinking on it.”

  Brenda gasped, shooting up off the rock where she’d settled to enjoy her supper. Bothan caught a handful of her skirt to steady her. She’d been facing away from the fire; with his greater height, the fire behind her illuminated his features, giving her a look at the smug grin on his lips.