Highland Sons: The Mackay Saga (5 page)

She crossed the threshold, and here again, all was in order. Even the hearth, which had been crumbling, now showed new mortar between the stones. They’d had no need for cooking utensils at the castle, and those still stood at the ready over the neatly stacked wood.

As she studied the newly constructed bed, something blocked the light from the doorway. She turned and her mouth went dry.

McGowan.

“Finally, we’re alone.” A half smile played on his lips as he perused the interior, one hand resting on the pouch at his hip.

“You followed me.” She didn’t mean to take a step back, but her calves connected with the pole bedframe.

“Nay. You’d prattled on about your animals. ‘Twas a matter of time before you ventured here on your own. When the stable hand noted the missing horse, I knew where you’d gone.” He entered the room, closing the door behind him. “A clever man watches for opportunities.”

“Why?” The room darkened, but Kenzie could still see him all too clearly from the light of the windows.

“Why what, lass?”

He was between her and the door. Could she get around him before he caught her? “Why did you follow me?” She already suspected the answer to that question, but she needed to find a way to distract him.

“I want you to be my wife.”

Startled, she nearly lost her balance, catching the rough-hewn bedpost to keep from falling onto the mattress. “What did you say?”

“I’ve need of a wife, and I think we would deal very well. You’d want for nothing.” His clipped voice oozed with pride and arrogance. “People fear me. There’s nothing you couldn’t have.”

He actually thought she would agree to such a match? Perhaps his arrogance could be used to her advantage. As if pondering his question, she crossed to the hearth, then faced him. “Why me? We barely know each other.”

“Because other men covet you. But you’ll be mine.” His eyes narrowed. “You’ll not be allowed to watch men training for battle, or go running off after animals. You’d warm my bed at night and keep to yourself during the day.”

Dear Lord
. She swallowed, but her throat was so dry she coughed instead. “I’m sure that sounds wonderful.”

He moved to within inches of her, and it took every ounce of her strength of will to remain that close to him. He reached out to touch her hair and she clenched her teeth so she didn’t flinch.

“Your hair is beautiful, but it is your eyes that cast a spell on a man. Mayhap you are a witch after all.”

He leaned in and pressed his moist lips on hers, grinding his mouth against the sensitive skin. His hands clutched her arms, nearly lifting her from the ground. One hand moved to her breast, squeezing until she thought she’d pass out. She turned back and forth, attempting to break free as flashes of her mother’s ordeal filled her vision.

Instinct took over and she brought her knee up with all her strength, connecting with the semi-erect flesh of his manhood. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, then his face seemed to close in on itself.

He dropped to the floor, groaning, and before he could recover, she snatched a piece of wood from the pile. The crude weapon made a sickening thud as she brought it down on his head. She stood for a moment, staring down at his body sprawled at her feet. In the silence she could hear the beating of her heart.

The wood dropped from her shaking hand as she sank onto the edge of the bed. She should go. Could she leave him here, like this? Would he tell Bain? It was her word against the witch pricker’s.

What if she’d killed him?

Bane would have to decide her punishment. A whimper rose in her throat. She closed her eyes and rubbed her hands up and down her arms, trying to bring some warmth back to her body.

There was no point worrying about something that might not have happened. On unsteady legs she rose from the bed, squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, then ventured close to him. He didn’t appear dead. His chest still rose and fell. Mustering her courage, she used the toe of her boot to nudge his thigh.

His hand grabbed her ankle so quickly she didn’t have time to scream. He yanked her feet out from under her, and she hit the floor—hard. He threw his body across hers, pinning her.

“Bitch. You’ll be mine one way or another.”

She tried twisting away from him, but he smashed his lips against hers until her teeth cut into the inside of her mouth. Her blood’s sharp metallic taste made her want to wretch.

Her resistance seemed to heighten his excitement, and she could almost feel violence erupting from him in waves. Dear Lord, she needed to be sick. He grabbed her breast and squeezed. She closed her eyes to escape the lust and hatred in his eyes, but instead she was the small girl under the bed again, watching the men tear at her mother. The brutal laughter and pain merged together until she felt numb.

It took a moment for her to realize she could breathe and weight no longer held her to the floor. She opened her eyes to see Bane shaking McGowan like a pennant whipping in the wind.

Bane threw McGowan away from him before he gave into the urge to strangle the bastard. A man who forced a woman deserved death. The witch pricker landed in a heap near the door, his kilt twisted and shirt ripped up the back where Bane had yanked him off Kenzie.

When Bane dared to glance down, Kenzie’s luminous eyes were open, but she simply blinked, without acknowledging his presence. Her shift had a rip at the neckline, and her hair fanned out around her tear-stained face. She could have been a fallen angel.

He knew the moment she became aware, because horror vied with fear in her expression. She crossed her arms over her chest, as if warding off his gaze.

“‘Tis all right now, lass.” He knelt on one knee and extended his hand. She studied him for a moment, then reached up and accepted his help. He guided her to a chair before turning to the witch pricker.

McGowan stumbled to his feet, but his posture still carried a wary arrogance. “She offered herself to me, then refused.” His lust-filled gaze rested on Kenzie. “You shouldn’t have interfered Mackay. I suggest you leave—now. Before those you hold dear are discovered to be witches.”

“They’ll be no more witch hunts on Mackay lands.” Bane came to a stop in front of McGowan. He had to look down to see the bastard’s belligerent expression. “You will return to the castle, collect your belongings, and be gone before nightfall.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then you’ll suffer the punishment befitting a defiler of women.” Bane rested his hand on the short sword at his waist. “I don’t know what’s done elsewhere, but I can tell you the Mackays defend their women.”

“She’s not your woman.”

“I have promised her my protection. ‘Tis the same thing.”

“You can’t have her. She’s mine.”

“Kenzie belongs to no man. Now, get out.”

McGowan threw back his shoulders, the fingers of his right hand twisted in the cord of the pouch at his waist. “You’ll rue this decision.”

“I think not.” He took a step toward McGowan and the man backed out of the entrance, his face a mottled red.

Bane slammed the wooden door, causing it to shudder, then turned back to Kenzie. Color had returned to her cheeks and she’d tamed her hair. Even with dirt on her face, her beauty of form and spirit shone.

She had a way of making a man look at his life. Perhaps that was why he found her so unsettling. When he’d seen McGowan on her . . .

His stomach roiled at what had nearly happened. It was his fault. In his arrogance he’d been so sure he could protect her.

Kenzie didn’t know how to react. She’d never seen such a helpless expression on a warrior’s face. It seemed he fought some inner battle, and from his expression, she could tell he didn’t much care for his thoughts. When he did finally look at her, his jaw was set and determination defined him.

“It will never happen again.” Bane crossed the short distance between them and stopped in front of her chair.

Kenzie rubbed her lips, trying to wipe away the stain of McGowan’s kisses. She looked up at Bane, and for the first time felt bitter about her lot in life. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Laird Mackay. ‘Tis no different here than in other villages. If not him, ‘twill eventually be someone else.”

“No one will touch you again. You have my word.” Bane’s expression had gone cold. He stared at an area behind her head, as if working out a perplexing problem.

“Your ‘word’?” She hadn’t meant to sound harsh, but ‘words’ weren’t going to keep her from men like McGowan.

When Bane finally faced her, he wore an expression of resignation. “I see no other way to keep you safe.” He squared his shoulders. “Marry me.”

She opened her mouth, but no words spilled forth. This couldn’t be happening—again. Part of her wanted to laugh, but she suspected if she started laughing, she may never stop.

Marriage to Bane might be her secret hope, but it was also her greatest fear. Did he think to protect her from every McGowan? ‘Twas no reason to marry.

“I have need of a wife and you have need of a home.” He drew her from the chair and steadied her on her feet, but didn’t touch her otherwise. “I know you’d be a boon to the Mackay clan.”

“Thank you.” So, she was a
boon
, a benefit, nothing more. Tears threatened. She clenched her jaw to keep her chin from quivering. At least he didn’t believe she’d belong to him, as most men would—and she’d have a home. No more wandering. Did it really matter that she loved him, but he didn’t feel the same about her? “Your clan will be unhappy that you’ve chosen an outsider.”

“They must accept my choice.”

There it was. She would never truly belong. She was a witch, a distraction, scorned by his people.

He offered her sanctuary.

But as she gazed upon his stern features and tense posture, the secret part of her hopes rose to the surface. If she had the Mackay name, could she change the crofter’s opinion? Might she change Bane’s belief that he married her for duty—nothing more?

“I agree to your proposal.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she felt at peace. It almost seemed as if she’d made a decision that was preordained, and a sense of rightness filled the void created by the day’s events.

Bane cupped her cheek with his calloused palm, his eyes, more green now than grey, studied her. “You’ll not regret your choice, lass.”

With a shaky hand she reached up, loosened his chestnut mane from its leather band, then ran her fingers through his hair from his temple to behind his ear. “I’ve wanted to do that since the day I bumped into you in the village.”

“And I would have let you.” He bent his head and spoke in a whisper. “Only you.” His lips came down on hers as barely a touch. He kept the kiss light until she stretched into him, deepening the kiss in spite of the tenderness of her lips.

His touch and movements were gentle, as if he were afraid he’d frighten her. When they broke the kiss, she leaned back to see his brows drawn together as he studied her face.

She’d never lain with a man before, but she didn’t want Bane to treat her like a web that would break in the wind. He reminded her of a caged animal, and she intended to find the latch to the desire he kept so tightly leashed.

Palms pressed against his chest, she straightened her arms and broke free of his embrace, then stepped back. He appeared confused until she reached down, grabbed the hem of her shift and slid it upward, over her body. His eyes widened and turned a crystalline green as each inch of skin was revealed.

Kenzie felt a flush start at the tip of her toes. For a moment Bane’s face wasn’t visible as she drew the fine wool over her eyes. During that time, he could gaze on her as nature intended. Heat coursed through her body and she ruined her planned seduction by tentatively peeking past the neckline, hoping he liked what he saw.

With a deep moan he reached for her, tearing at the shift that still clung to her arms and throwing it to the floor. Within moments he’d picked her up and laid her on the straw pallet. Bits of stems poked through the rough woolen blanket on the bed, but her skin already felt so sensitive that she couldn’t stay still.

He stood over her, peering down with a gaze that was more than the lust she’d seen in the eyes of so many men. His expression held admiration, respect, and need that burned like the reflection of the sun off a loch.

With very few movements, he managed to remove his shirt and kilt, standing before her as the glorious warrior she’d always imagined. His skin gleamed from the sunlight pouring through the window, catching his form and sculpting his muscles in light and shadow.

She swallowed several times as her gaze traveled to his manhood. It’s not as if she hadn’t watched animals in the woods, but there seemed to be so much of him.

Before she could ask about his endowments, he joined her on the cot, nestling her against his chest and placing small, feathery kisses along the base of her neck. She stretched against him, surprised at the springy feel of the hair on his chest that followed a line below his waist.

Warmth and moisture developed between her legs, and she clutched his shoulders. When he took the tip of her breast in his mouth she arched upward, bringing her into closer contact. Dear Lord, she’d not known it could be like this.

“Bane.” The word came out a whisper. She didn’t know what she wanted, or what to ask for, but she needed something.

When he settled his hand between her legs, all modesty fled. She rubbed against him while his fingers entered her secret place. Probing, exploring, and increasing her desire.

This is how they were meant to be. Bane may not believe in magic, but what he made her feel couldn’t be of this world.

His mouth found hers as he entered her. A moment of pain caused her to pause, but he reached between their bodies and rhythmically stroked her until she wanted him there, needed him deeper.

On a ragged breath he accommodated her, plunging, carrying her away on a sensual precipice that brought her upward, soaring, until her whole body convulsed as waves of pleasure shot through her.

Bane followed on a roar, his head thrown back, ecstasy contorting his features. As the last of the spasms subsided, he collapsed next to her.

Kenzie placed her hand on his chest and closed her eyes, relishing the smell of straw, sandalwood, and a musky odor that was pleasant, but unfamiliar. Just before she drifted off to sleep, she murmured, “If you’re always this loud, we’re going to have to move our sleeping chamber to the tower.”