“She’ll be spreading her legs for you before she even realizes what she’s doing. Is this truly necessary?”
Killing Frankton was necessary. Seducing the woman the Sassenach bastard desired so much, well . . . that would simply be very satisfying. Ian gave his old nurse an innocent grin. “I promise you she’ll enjoy it, if that will make you feel better.”
“It does
not
make me feel better,” she replied tartly, and then sighed. “However, ridding this earth of Baron Frankton would be a blessing for us all. Be careful, Ian. He is legendary for his evil treachery, and though I know you are the finest swordsman in Scotland, he knows it too. The cowardly devil won’t face you directly.”
“He wants the lass, and, from all reports, badly. Having seen her, I understand why. When he comes to demand her release, I intend to make the blackguard agree to tell the truth, free Uncle Thomas, and return his confiscated property. Once that is done, I will challenge him in front of witnesses, so even a crawling English worm like him will have to pick up a weapon.”
Rossie’s blue eyes were troubled. “I don’t like it.”
He reached out and touched her plump cheek reassuringly. “I don’t really like it either, mother hen. I’ve killed men before in battle or self-defense, but I have never contemplated killing someone with relish. However, don’t worry; I can take care of myself.” Then he added with a wicked wink, “And the delectable Lady Leanna.”
“You scamp, she’s too tired to pleasure you tonight. I had to rouse her, and the poor child could barely stay awake long enough to bathe and eat.”
“I think I can wait until tomorrow,” Ian said serenely.
“Men,” Rossie muttered.
Leanna paced across the room, the hem of the dressing gown she had been given trailing on the floor. Bright sunlight fell in squares from one of the tall windows, warming the thick rug under her bare feet. Restless, unnerved, she paused to stare at a portrait of a young woman with dark windblown hair that hung over the mantel, her observation distracted.
She knew her captor’s identity.
McCray.
The young maid who had brought her hot water and breakfast this morning had willingly answered her tentative questions.
Good heavens, she was in the hands of Ian McCray, laird of what was reputed to be one of the fiercest Scottish clans, a powerful lord with a reputation as a talented swordsman and an even more talented lover. Even with her sheltered upbringing, Leanna had heard of McCray. It was obvious from the things he’d said that her fiancé, Baron Frankton, had done something to one of the laird’s own family and, in turn, brought swift retaliation from a for midable foe.
The greedy fool
, she thought with exaltation.
She was free!
Well, not precisely free, but she was never going back into that tower to be locked away like some exotic bird.
Never
. It was a vow, a pledge to herself. Being confined for weeks on end had been the worst torture imaginable, and the prospect of having to give her body to her loathsome groom-to-be had loomed like a poisonous cloud on the horizon. Were it not for the knowledge that the baron’s wedding settlement would help her impoverished father properly present her sisters—four of them, all younger—into society so they might make respectable marriages, she could not have borne the dread she felt for her upcoming wedding night.
“What would you do now, if you were in my place?” she asked the woman in the portrait, musing aloud. “It seems to me I have been rescued by a dubious knight, it is true, but rescued still. The marriage settlement was paid when Baron Frankton escorted me from my home to his holding. It cannot be taken back, not when this is not my father’s fault.”
Quite naturally the painted image on the canvas offered no advice, but it didn’t matter. Crossing to the window, Leanna stared out, seeing sunshine pour over the unfamiliar rolling hills, the sea glimmering in the distance like some jeweled beast. It was a rugged, harsh land, she mused, but beautiful. Rather like McCray himself. She remembered his tall, well-muscled body, that broad chest, his classically handsome features and thick dark hair worn loose like a warrior, brushing his shoulders.
The very first thing she needed to do was get rid of her virginity.
Baron Frankton had valued that as much as her beauty, going so far as to insist she be examined by a physician to confirm her purity. Every time she recalled the look that crossed his face when he mentioned their upcoming wedding night, she felt sick. He wanted a terrified virgin because he reveled in the idea. She had realized it even with her lack of sexual experience. The fact she despised him and was marrying him only to save her family aroused him.
The door behind her opened. “You demand an audience, I understand, lass.”
The sound of the deep voice sent a small tremor through her body. Leanna whirled around, her heart beginning to race. Framed in the doorway, Ian McCray looked taller than ever, his long legs hugged by black breeches, a full-sleeved white shirt spanning his wide shoulders. The laird’s booted feet were apart, and one ebony brow slowly eased upward in open amusement as she stared at him. His eyes were as dark as his glossy hair, the corner of his well-shaped mouth lifting slightly as he stared back.
“G-good morning,” she stammered ridiculously. Her palms were suddenly damp and warm.
He laughed, showing white teeth. “I am pleased to be greeted with such polite friendliness. Since I snatched you from your bed and carried you halfway across Scotland against your will, I thought you might be a little perturbed with me.”
“You did me the most enormous favor imaginable,” Leanna told him honestly, recovering a measure of her poise.
His face registered a shade of surprise, his eyes narrowing slightly in sudden comprehension. “I see.”
“I take it you wish to trade me back to the baron for his assurance he will repair whatever damage he has done to your family.”
Ian McCray murmured, “Aye, something like that, lass.”
Wondering just how much she would have to do to persuade him, she cleared her throat. “Can we strike a bargain between
us
, my lord?”
“Are you in a position to bargain, my lady?” The amusement was back in his voice.
“I think,” she said coolly, looking him in the eyes, “I have something you want.” Summoning her courage, she untied the sash at her waist and let her robe fall open, shrugging it from her shoulders so it pooled at her feet. It was a little daunting to stand there completely nude in front of the notorious chieftain, but she lifted her chin and watched his breathing change slightly as he examined her naked body with a compelling dark stare. “I noticed on our journey here that you were not physically indifferent to me, unless”—she managed a nervous smile—“you are that way all the time, which I would think would be most uncomfortable.”
He said nothing for a moment, his heated gaze fastened on her breasts so intently, she could almost feel the warmth singe her skin. “What’s your bargain?” he asked finally.
“Bed me,” she told him, trying to keep her voice even. “Often. Whenever you like. Use me while I am here for your pleasure in any way you wish. In return, I promise to accommodate you at any time, without protest, to please you as best I can. If you do not desire me, pick one of your men—”
“No one will touch you but me,” he interrupted, his voice curt. “I take it Frankton values your virginity and you seek to thwart him.”
“I agreed to the marriage for the sake of my family, but now that I know the man better, I realize my mistake. My purity is important to him.”
“Is it now?” McCray’s dark eyes gleamed and he took a slow, long step closer.
A small surge of triumph rippled through her. Leanna smiled, slightly lowering her lashes. “Will you help me, my lord?”
His smile was full of sensual masculine promise. “I intended to all along, my lady.”
Ian closed the door and turned the key in the lock. God knew Rossie might decide to check on her lovely charge, and he hardly wanted a lecture while he was in the middle of the intimate exploration of Miss Arlington’s gorgeous body.
By the gods, he was already hard, so stiff he could feel the pulse of his cock strain against the material of his breeches. He had bedded scores of beautiful ladies, but he couldn’t recall ever being more intrigued than he was by this young woman who was begging him to do with her whatever he wished, and promising complete capitulation.
It was infinitely arousing.
In the golden light of the summer morning coming through the window, Lady Leanna was bathed in gold and ivory, her nude body perfect and just as he had imagined as he held her in his arms on their journey. Her long hair, gloriously blond, tumbled over her slim shoulders and fell to her waist. Her breasts were high, firm, not overly large but full and tipped with pink nipples. The triangle of soft gold at the apex of her white thighs gleamed, and he imagined himself delving into that intriguing spot with his fingers, his mouth, his cock. . . .
“I think we can start right now,” he said, his voice a trifle thick with arousal. “If you wish to please me, come here.”
Her gaze lowered slightly, but she was as good as her word, coming forward obediently. When she was close enough, Ian pulled her nude body into his arms. Her soft scent was bewitching, and as he found her mouth with his own, he wondered if she had ever been kissed.
She hadn’t, he discovered, his hands caressing her smooth back as he coaxed her lips apart and eased his tongue into her mouth. She tasted sweet, like the chocolate she had drunk with breakfast, a personal indulgence of his that the household had adopted. He felt her stiffen slightly as he rubbed his tongue against hers, the sensation obviously new. He felt those same muscles relax as he continued and she began to respond hesitantly, her small hands clutching his shirt, her long lashes fanned against her porcelain cheeks.
Patience, which was what he needed with an untried innocent, was not his strong suit normally, but when it came to lovemaking, he had plenty of experience in bringing a woman to full arousal. He took his time, leisurely exploring her sweet mouth, tasting the sensitive spot behind her ear, kissing her neck, her mouth again, until she breathed unevenly and was lax against him.
“The bed,” he said, sweeping her up in his arms. He was still fully clothed himself, and her enticing curves were already familiar after all those hours in the saddle with only her thin nightdress between them. Shoving back the tumbled linens, he laid her down and started to undress, watching her face as he unlaced and pulled off his shirt, her eyes opening wide as he unfastened his breeches and exposed his rampant erection.
“Oh.” She stared, lying quietly, her arms at her sides, her splendid bare breasts lifting quickly.
“Don’t be frightened. It might look big,” he assured her softly, “but it will fit inside you.”
“I hope so,” she answered unexpectedly, closing her eyes. “I feel so strange, hot, yet cold—”
“Spread your legs,” he ordered hoarsely. “I want to look at you.”
She did as she was told, slowly opening her thighs, giving him a glimpse of her cleft, the lips of her labia soft and partially shielded by that downy thatch. As he lay down next to her, Ian fought the uncharacteristic urge to simply mount her at once and ease his impatient need. He was an experienced man—an extremely experienced man, in fact—and renowned for his ability to leisurely and skillfully make love. Perhaps it was her poignant beauty and innocent appeal, but he was hot and oddly overeager. He forced himself to control, stroking her silken hair, kissing her again. As he fondled her breasts and enjoyed the sight of her compliant and open for him, the texture and weight of her flesh exquisite in his hands, he felt her nipples tighten in response under his touch.
Excellent. She might be giving him a virgin sacrifice, but she was also passionate under that cool, golden exterior.
She sighed when he bent his head and took the straining, flawless pink crest of her right breast in his mouth. He felt it harden as he sucked it deeper, her hands flying to his hair, sifting through in arousing urgency. Moving to her other breast, he murmured, “Keep your legs apart. I’ll get there soon, my sweet hostage.”
And she moaned out loud this time when he began to nuzzle and lick her nipple, her obvious enjoyment escalating his own desire. He stayed there until he could hear her pant, pleased with how responsive she was, her vow to acquiesce to his every sexual demand foremost in his mind. Moving lower, he kissed her soft stomach, her smooth inner thighs, pushing her legs wider until he settled, his mouth grazing her sex, inhaling the heady fragrance of female arousal.
“I’ve never tasted a virgin,” he murmured, running his tongue along the intriguing line of those soft, damp folds. “Will you be different?”
“My lord,” she said in obvious breathless shock, “what are you doing?”
You are so astoundingly beautiful,
he thought, poised between her legs. Her long blond hair was spread over the linens, her pearly body a little flushed and so very feminine and beguiling. The delicate perfection of her face was highlighted by her heightened color, a deep blush flooding her cheeks. “There is no embarrassment in bed,” he told her, lightly biting her inner thigh with just a teasing abrasion of his teeth, “and you will love what I am about to do. Trust me.”
Her lashes fluttered slightly. “I can’t think you would want to . . . to—”
“Then you’d be wrong, my lady,” he said in a growl, and pressed his mouth to her heated center, plunging his tongue into those moist folds, delving between them and relishing the velvet feel of that acutely sensitive flesh, finding the tiny swollen bud of her desire and swirling his tongue around it.
She cried out instantly, arching. “Oh.”
Her hips in his hands, keeping her in place for his tender assault, Ian continued to feast at her sweet cleft, sometimes stroking boldly, other times nibbling gently, until the tension in her body grew and he could taste the rush of her imminent orgasm, the small sounds she made at each movement of his tongue signaling her intense pleasure. When she went over the edge, she convulsed and twisted in orgasmic abandon, eyes closed tightly, her small scream of release echoing into the pleasant quiet of the bedchamber.