A Contract Bride's Triple Surprise (45 page)

She rubbed her fingers over the itchy remnants of a blister. She wanted to scratch it but knew it would be worse if she did. Sitting here alone made it hard to keep her mind off the irritation.

“If Gillis forged Ross’s name to the contract, our marriage is invalid. Any decent judge would rip up the contract. Nevin wants to marry me. He’s a very nice man and says he loves me.”

She groaned. She loved Nevin, but she loved Ross more. She wanted him more. He didn’t want her.

“Damn the man!”

Her swearing echoed off the high walls. It felt so good to say something rather than keep it inside as she was taught. “Double-damn and blast him!”

She laughed, feeling free for the first time since the attack. No, not “the attack.” Since she escaped from a prison where two men were going to torture, rape, and murder her. “Triple-damn them both to hell!”

She was free of those men and her husband. Lots and lots of men would want to marry her, just because she was female, fertile, and free.

But none of them made her feel the way Ross did. Hot, wicked, wanting, and wet. Nevin came close, and Gillis was beginning to accept the idea of doing more than kissing her crazy. Only Ross made her so hot she couldn’t stand to go a day without his hot cock pounding somewhere in her.

She drew her palm over her breast, already firm from the thought of what she wanted to do with him. Beth told her she was insatiable for the first three or four months she was breeding then needy the rest of the time. Beth and her three men even had a long loving session the day before James was born.

A spark twitched in her clit. It demanded attention after days of being ignored. She thought back to the meadow, when both men did what she needed while Gillis watched. She wanted to be filled, now! Nevin and Gillis helped Frank Chambers keep order, and Ross was likely on the fastest horse going somewhere else.

If she was going to be hot and wanting with no man around to solve the problem, then she’d solve it herself. She yanked on the curtains, closing herself off from the street. She undid the top three buttons of her dress, caressing the skin underneath. She leaned back her head and captured her breasts, pretending it was Ross’s hands that kneaded them. But his hands were so much larger. So much more adept.

The curtains ruffled as the hot breeze blew in. For decency’s sake, she wore her dress, camisole, corset, bloomers, and three petticoats. Far more than she was used to. Far too much when she was all alone and likely to be so until morning.

She quickly undid all the dress buttons above her waist. She pulled her arms out and let the cotton drop off her shoulders. Her corset followed. She groaned and inhaled deep into her lungs. She flapped her wrinkled shift, damp from perspiration.

“That feels much better.”

She undid her skirt buttons and all the camisoles. She stood up, balancing on her good foot. She pushed off her skirt and all but one camisole. She picked them up, draping them over the back of the chair. Putting as little weight on her foot as possible, she hopped toward the room with the bed.

She’d only taken two steps when someone banged on the door. She turned toward the door and set her foot down. Pain erupted. She cried out and lifted it, arms flailing. She grabbed the back of the padded chair she’d just left and fell into it.

“Amelia? Are you all right in there?”

Ross!

“What the hell do you want?” she yelled. Tears prickled her eyes as she rubbed her ankle, throbbing once more. Dead silence from the other side of the door.

“Are you hurt?”

“None of your damned business!”

Another long silence. The doorknob rattled. She stared at it. She heard scratching sounds. After a moment, the doorknob turned, and he stepped in. His eyes flashed around the room. They lingered on her bandaged foot for a moment. When he was satisfied she was alone, he relaxed enough to close and lock the door.

She gulped. He wore the same outfit as when she’d seen him on the street. His smooth leather vest curved over his shoulders. The edges parted, revealing his wide, muscular chest. His chaps framed the cock straining at his buttons. She stared at it, remembering how good he tasted. She licked her lips.

“Look me in the eyes, wife.”

His face was like stone except for the eyes that glared at her. Cold eyes and hot cock at the same time.

“Gillis forged your signature. I’m not your wife.”

He stepped forward. His boots hit the floor with loud, slow thunks. One. And another. His eyes never left hers.

“You’re my wife, Amelia Smathers MacDougal.” He dropped his hat on a table as he passed. “You’ve picked up some bad habits. No more swearing like a muleskinner.”

“It feels good to swear!”

“Then swear away. Your bottom will feel good when I spank you for it.”

“What!” His eyes burned the answer straight to her clit. It pulsed, demanding his fingers and tongue. She clenched her pussy, remembering how his hand zapped her bottom.

“But you don’t want me. You ran away!”

“I never said I was perfect. You’re pretty damn close to it, though.” He slipped his vest off his shoulders, revealing the flat, brown nipples she loved to bite.

She blinked. “I can’t cook.”

“I don’t care.”

“You don’t?” He barely moved his head. “But I can’t do anything like Auntie or even Beth.”

“I don’t want Auntie for my wife.” His lip twitched. “I think Beth would be a hot bundle in bed, but even I couldn’t take on all three Elliotts and live.”

“You jump in another bed, and you’ll never lie in mine again,” she growled.

His eyes lit up at her reaction. “There’s lots I can do to make you squeal that have nothing to do with lying in a bed.” He looked at the table for a moment, then the wall. He smiled at the upholstered chair.

She remembered each one. How he sat her on the table and she wrapped her legs around his hips to pull him close. When he pressed her against the wall so hard that she didn’t notice her feet were six inches off the floor. And the chair!

“I’ve ordered a chair just like that one for our bedroom,” he said.

A rash of heat surged over her breasts to her face. He took a step back.

“You’re distracting me.” He shook himself out. “I was telling you why I want you for my wife. You’re smart. Not too many men would think of, much less have the balls, to escape from a locked cabin by burning the damn thing down. Even better, you’ve got a body that makes me so hard I could pound nails with my cock.”

An image hit of Ross standing tall in the meadow, his hard cock straining to reach her. Would she kneel and take him in her mouth, licking his salty goodness? Or would she kneel down and look at him over her shoulder like a she-wolf in heat? She rubbed her aching breasts with her wrists.

“You don’t want me,” she said, her voice husky. “You’re ashamed because they touched me.”

He stopped in front of her and shook his head.

“Don’t deny it, Ross MacDougal! I saw the way you looked at me.”

“You looked away first. You were disgusted with me because I couldn’t save you from them.”

“I only looked away for a moment, and that was because I felt ashamed to be a nuisance to you. When I tried to explain, you ran away!”

He went down on one knee in front of her. She let him pick up her hand. He touched her pink burn marks in a butterfly caress, so soft she barely felt him.

“You’ll never be a nuisance to me, no matter what. It pains me that they hurt you because of me. Because of what I am.”

“That was just their excuse to do what they wanted,” she replied.

He shrugged it off. “I gave them that excuse by having a different skin color.”

“Why did you run away from me, Ross?”

He took a long time to answer. Finally, he faced her. “I didn’t run from you. I ran away from my past. A long time ago, I failed to save someone. It cost me everything but my life. When I couldn’t save you, I expected you to look at me with hate. I didn’t want to remember you thinking of me that way.”

Ross looked at her without any of his masks. She saw a hurt little boy, a vicious killer, a lover, and a proud husband, all at once. He was made of all those parts. He could no more deny the memories that shaped him than she could.

She also saw his silent pleading. This man would never beg. But he would give her everything, including his life, if she would take him.

“My ankle hurts,” she said. “I need to lie down.”

The heat from his eyes seared her. It sent unneeded messages to her breasts, pussy, and clit. Unneeded because they already swelled in anticipation of his touch.

He slipped his arms under her back and knees and gently lifted her. When he held her against his chest, she felt his heart pounding as hard as her own. He smelled of leather, sweetgrass, clove soap, and active man. Home.

He laid her on the bed and went into the main room, returning with two pillows from the chair. He lifted her sore foot, placed the pillows on the bed, and rested her foot on top. He waited, watching her. Needing her.

She watched him take off his boots. His straight, black hair hung loose, obscuring his face when he bent over to place them by the door. His chaps were next. He placed his hand on his belt and raised his eyes in question. She bit her lip. She could see his cock straining to escape. It looked very painful. She wouldn’t want him to be in pain, did she?

She nodded. His chest expanded, and his nostrils flared as he inhaled. She watched his hands as they slowly undid his belt and released his buttons. One at a time. She stared until he reached in and released his cock. She sighed along with him. He shucked his pants. He almost dropped them on the floor. She smiled when he padded to the far wall and hung them up.

He settled beside her, not quite touching her shoulder and hip.

“Nevis said you weren’t planning to return to the MD. Why would you give up your home?”

She watched the shadows on the wall while Ross thought her comment over.

“I thought you’d leave if I didn’t. You and our baby need a home more than I do.” She inhaled a hiss when he rested his warm hand on her belly. “The Clan needs you, our son, and the baby. The MacDougals can survive without me.”

She frowned at him. “Our son
and
the baby?”

Ross lifted up to see her better. “Did you hear a scream a while back?”

“I heard screams and yells and everything else coming from the street.”

“At least one was from Daniel’s father. The boy was about to be run down during a drunken race through town. He knew I couldn’t reach Daniel in time. He saved the boy, tossing him to me for safety. The horses ran over him. Daniel’s our son now.” The smile Ross gave her lifted her heart. “He wants to call you Ma.”

“Oh!” Amelia blinked back tears. “That’s wonderful.” She winced. “It’s terrible for Mr. Thompson, but wonderful for us. Now, Daniel won’t have to hide.”

“Gillis will want to use the claymore on him. It’ll have to be a formal ceremony.”

“Perhaps Gillis can do it right after our wedding?”

Ross blinked. Gold flakes filled his hazel eyes. His slow, wicked smile made her toes curl and pussy throb.

“Wedding?”

She nodded. “This time, you’ll sign with your own name.”

He stared at the twin bumps of cotton pushed up by her nipples.

“Do I get another honeymoon?”

“Only if I do.”

His smile faded. “When I caught Daniel, I realized that I would kill or die for you or our children. I suspect that means I love you.”

“About damn well time,” she said.

“I told you what would happen if you swore,” he said. He twirled a lock of her hair around his finger.

“So you did,” she replied. “But not until after our wedding.”

“When’s that? I find I’m not a very patient man.”

“As soon as I can run on this ankle. Doc says two weeks.”

He touched her nose with his fingertip. “To chase me or have me chase you?”

Such a simple touch, yet it set off explosions within her.

“You’ll have to wait to find out.”

“I can do that.”

He settled back beside her, curving his body toward her. His breathing slowed and deepened.

“Are you awake?”

She whispered the words. No reply came, just soft breathing.

She turned her head. Only in sleep did a hint of softness touch his face. She brushed a few strands of hair away from his mouth. His lips quirked up for a second before relaxing into deep sleep.

She looked at the ceiling and rolled her eyes. They were married, all right. She closed her eyes. She hadn’t slept well without him, either.

Chapter Forty-Five

Two weeks later

“Do ye accept the oath of fealty to Clan MacDougal?”

Gillis held the shining
claidheamh mór
high as he thundered the words. The rising full moon lit the Elliott yard like a scene from a nightmare. But the tears were mostly of joy, though sorrow and loss also sounded through their hearts.