Samantha Holt (Highland Fae Chronicles) (21 page)

“It is.” His voice dropped. “Then I shall be able to enjoy such a sight every morn.”

Eyes wide, Catriona fell against her door. The lascivious shade to his expression made his already cold eyes, darker, more dangerous. She gulped and fumbled for the door handle.

“I… I… good day, my laird.” She twisted the handle and slipped into her chamber, slamming the door shut and leaning against it. A chuckle resonated through the wood. She cringed.

Did he know? Lord, what had she done? It would be well enough if it was only her future on the line but she held the fate of her friends and father in her hands. Appeasing Laird Gillean and finding a way to delay the wedding until the messenger reached Bute had to be her priority—
not
Finn. She slapped her hands to her hot cheeks. What had she done?

***

He danced back away from the blade as it swept close to his neck. Too close. Logan was a strong fighter but Finn was off his game. His body ached from sleeping in the straw and images of Katelyn played through his mind.

He’d behaved a fool.

Finn swung in retaliation and their blades crashed together sending shudders up his arm. Dust from the mud of the bailey kicked up around them. When he might have been able to take a second slice at Logan, he missed his chance by being too slow and Logan came at him again, pushing his blade to the ground.

No other man practiced, only them. Boots scraping the dirt and his pounding heart throbbed in his ears. Jumping back, Finn lunged once more only for Logan to sidestep him, grab his pommel and draw him close enough to nearly run him through. The two men faced one another, heavy breaths blowing between them.

“Something is amiss, Finn,” Logan declared as he released Finn’s sword and pushed him back lightly.

Finn swiped the arm of his shirt across his damp brow. “Naught is amiss.”

Logan shook his head and slipped his sword into his belt. “Finn, ye are one of the finest swordsmen I know. For yer years of training I cannae compete, yet I beat ye easily this day.”

“Yer a fine swordsman.”

“I learned swordsmanship the hard way, as ye well know. I have none of yer finer skills.”  Logan slapped a hand to Finn’s arm. “Anyhow, dinnae change the subject. What plagues ye?”

A smile teased Finn’s lips, begged to be released, but instead he sighed. How was it Katelyn forced all his defences down?

“Is it Katelyn?”

“’Tis naught, Logan.”

“Naught doesnae throw ye off yer game like that. In all the years we’ve know each other, I’ve never seen ye this consumed by a lass.”

“Consumed?” Finn’s brows darted up. Logan had already inferred he recognised Finn’s need for Katelyn but he thought he’d thrown him off the scent with his flippant remarks.

“Aye, consumed. ‘Tis hard to miss the way ye watch her, Finn. And the way she looks at ye.”

Finn kicked a stone and strolled away to settle on the wall. If Logan saw it, did Gillean? And the way Katelyn looked at him? Earlier, all he’d seen was hurt and disgust. He’d practically called her a whore. Shame heated his face. He’d taken something precious and thrown it away. What had happened between them had been more than a mere tumble.

“It doesnae matter,” Finn grumbled. “She shall be married soon enough.”

“There is always a way, old friend. Ye would do well to take a chance.”

Finn let slip a depreciative laugh as Logan rested next to him. “A chance on what? I took chances once before and I lost everything, Logan. I’ll no’ do that again. She will marry Gillean and I shall return home and there ends our story. Anyway, what of ye? I dinnae see ye married to my sister.”

Logan bristled. “Yer sister willnae have me. Alas I am still a mere peasant boy in her eyes and I fear I always will be.”

“But…” Finn fought down the brotherly protectiveness, recalling Logan’s words of love, “she let ye into her bed, did she not?”

“Aye, and declared it a mistake.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Finn nodded. Hadn’t he done the same to Katelyn? And while she reacted with cold dignity, he’d been aware it was his angry reaction that prompted such behaviour. But the mere mention of Gillean and her marriage sent a surge of jealousy rolling through him that clouded any judgement.

“My sister cares for ye and I doubt she thinks ye as a peasant boy,” he finally declared. “She is always quick to come to yer defence.”

“Well, I shallnae give up and I dinnae think ye should, Finn. Ye must surely know the lass is worth the heartache.” He came to his feet and patted him on the shoulder. “I have duties to see to. I’ll bid ye good day.”

“Aye, and to ye, Logan.” Finn dropped his head and considered Logan’s words as the man strolled off.

Worth the heartache? Mayhap. But it was not his decision. Katelyn was contracted to marry Gillean. What else could he do? He’d ruined her with his selfishness. It mattered little how she felt about him. He lifted his head. However, his words to her earlier still vexed him. He would have to apologise for them. How could he let her believe he thought her a whore?

Unfortunately there was little he could do to make up for his taking her innocence. Not even the most heartfelt apology would repair that damage. Damnation. His gut clenched as if he’d been punched. He had even spilled inside her. He dropped his face into his hands. What if he’d not only taken her maidenhood but planted his child inside her?

***

Catriona wouldn’t have heard the soft tap at her door had she been asleep but in spite of being tired, sleep refused to come. Her mind was a whirl of panic and plans. The priest looked to be arriving on the morrow according to the missive they’d received that day. Throwing back the covers, she padded over to the door and drew it open. Would it be Gillean? He’d been so bold with his attentions, she wouldn’t have been surprised.

She peered out the gap and sucked in a startled breath. He’d seemed so angry, regretful. Why was he here now? She almost shut the door in his face. How could she face him now? Her cheeks burned at the memory of her wanton behaviour.

“Katie,” he said sorrowfully.

It stabbed her wounded heart. She wanted to hear her real name on his lips. “What do ye want, Finn?”

“Let me in,” he demanded softly.

With a sigh, she stepped back, allowing him to push open the door and enter the room. He seemed to take up all the space in her chambers. Candlelight gilded his hair, highlighted the dark circles under his eyes and the grooves in his brow. His brows knitted as he studied her, as if he were in pain.

Catriona clamped her arms around herself and held on tightly. Even now, she wanted him. While her heart ached and her stomach cramped, she needed him. Her body betrayed her.

Her heart betrayed her.

She loved a man who didn’t even know who she truly was. Who could never really love her as she loved him. He was still wrapped up in his dead wife and child, any fool could see that, and who would blame him. That he cared so deeply for them only made her love him more.

“Are ye well?”

She blinked up at him. “Aye, I am well,” she replied stiffly.

He stared at his feet then lifted his gaze to her. “I didnae mean....”

“I know well ye didnae mean to take a tumble with me, Finn. Ye made that clear.”

“Nay, I meant… I didnae mean to hurt ye. Physically or.…”

He looked so lost, her heart almost burst for him. “Emotionally?”

“Aye.”

“Fear not, I shall recover I am sure.”

Finn scuffed a foot across the floorboard. “Also, I wanted to check… I mean I shouldnae have… if ye should carry my child, I should like to know.”

She closed her eyes briefly and put a hand against the post of the bed for support. Lord, she hadn’t even considered that. She could take some tea which would help prevent babes but with everything going on, she had forgotten. What if it was too late?

“I am sure naught will happen. ‘Twas only once after all,” she replied blithely.

“I should still like to know.” He took a step forward and she shrank back. “What shall ye do if ye conceive my child? Will ye pretend it is Gillean’s?”

This thought appeared to pain him and his brow furrowed further. She itched to smooth away his concern. It was for nothing, after all. If her father didn’t turn up on the morrow, she’d have to marry Gillean and pray her father rescued her before the laird found out the truth. After all, Gillean could not hold her to a contract that did not have her name on it.

She shuddered as she considered what she might have to suffer to keep up the pretence.

Finn touched her cheek. “Forgive me, I didnae mean to scare ye.”

“Ye didnae scare me.”

“Forgive my behaviour then.” He dipped his head and wrapped a curl of hair around one finger, staring at it as he stroked its length.

“There is naught to forgive.” Her legs trembled when she saw the darkening in his eyes. His gaze dropped to her lips, then to her breasts—her nipples likely stood out against the white of her chemise—and back up to meet her gaze.

“There is. I took advantage of ye. I behaved like a boar.”

“Ye didnae take advantage, Finn. I gave myself willingly.”

“And I shouldnae have taken it. I thought myself a better man than that but I was wrong.”

Catriona shook her head slowly. He meant to torture himself and she refused to allow that. He might have hurt her but she had no wish for him to hurt any more than necessary. The man already carried too much around on those great shoulders. “Ye are a good man, Finn. Dinnae say otherwise.”

“Not good enough for ye.” He smirked. “Forgive me, I shouldnae have spoken so.”

She searched his gaze. What did he mean? A spark of hope lit in her chest but she tamped it down. Even if he felt as she did, there could be no future for them. On the morrow—if she could not delay the wedding any longer—she would be wed to Gillean.

“
Ye
are too
good for me,” she said gently, giving in and pressing away the dips etched into his forehead. “Ye have been kind and patient.” She cupped his cheek and he leaned into her hand with a tiny groan of surrender.

“What am I to do with ye, Katie? I am a weak man around ye.” He put his arms around her, placed his hands against her lower back and pulled her into him. “Ye are to be married…” he murmured as he urged her down against the bed.

She nodded, warm gratification flowing through her at the feel of his hard body against hers.

“On the morrow ye shall be another’s.” He laid his lips to her neck.

“Aye,” she whispered.

“I can offer ye naught.”

“Aye, I know.”

“I cannae resist ye.”

“I know,” she repeated. “And I.”

“Just one more night,” he breathed into her ear.

“Aye, one more night.”

One last chance to feel loved and treasured for the first time in her life, even if it wasn’t true. He felt something for her—whether it was love, she knew not—but the way Finn touched her and worshipped her body was enough. He was no man of great words but he said much with his fingers. Everything was unravelling. Soon, something would change. If she couldn’t persuade Gillean to delay the wedding further she’d be married. And if her father ever came to her rescue, her real identity would come out and she’d return to Bute.

Still, before long he would forget her and her deception. Finn had offered her no commitments, no words of love, and she doubted he ever intended to.

But for now, she wanted one more night. Another memory to carry her through whatever the next few days brought. Catriona parted her lips in invitation and he hovered over her.

“No’ so hasty this time, wee lass.” He skimmed a finger over her lips, down her throat and circled it lightly. “So fragile,” he murmured. “Yer skin is so pale and beautiful. I shallnae touch it again after this night.”

She nodded numbly. Against the painful throb of her heart, warmth flowed through her at his touch, the combination confusing and exhilarating, as if his seductions might soothe away some of the agony.

“I shallnae kiss ye again,” he whispered.

He tucked his arm further under her back and held her close before lowering his lips to hers. The instant bolt of awareness that jolted through her still surprised her. He shoved her chemise from her shoulder. Dragging his mouth away from hers, he bit down on her bare skin and she moaned. He used his teeth to rake across her skin to her neck and took a moment to suck and lick there. Katelyn writhed under his weight

He fumbled with the laces at the front of her shift, trying to part the material but his hands seemed uncontrollable. With a growl, he gave up his fight with the laces and rolled so she landed on top of him. Her legs came to either side of his hips and his hardness pressed against her sex. She rocked against him and plunged her hands into his hair to kiss him fiercely. Tongues tangling, barely time to take a breath, Finn grasped her hips and she moved eagerly as flickers of gratification already pulsed through her.

Her hair trailed over him, like a curtain, hiding them from the world. The candlelight slid over his features, flickering and dancing. Catriona stroked her hands over his stubbled jaw and touched the scar on his lip, twisted the small braid in his hair. His hands found the neckline of her chemise once more and he tugged forcefully. She ran her palms up and down his chest, urging him on, and his plaid loosened and fell to his side. Her nails hit his stomach, pressing under his shirt and he hissed.