The Knight's Temptress (Lairds of the Loch) (30 page)

Lina watched Ian, wholly content to let him tell her what to do, since she was enjoying it and, otherwise, would have had no idea what he wanted from her. Also, if she let him have it all his way now, he would surely be more conciliating when she explained how necessary it was that she return with him to Dunglass.

He was in a hurry now. He had pulled off his boots and stripped off his plaid, tunic, and breeks at a speed that she might have thought impossible for any man.

Then he straightened and faced her, rampant.

Gasping, she nearly bolted upright. Surely, what she had believed must happen when they coupled
could
not.

As he stood looking at her, he seemed to grow larger there before her eyes. Then, he moved to the bed and stood there, gazing down at her.

A draft across her breasts made her tremble.

“Prithee, sir. You look as if you mistake me for a tableful of food at a feasting, as if you are trying to decide what to taste first.”

His eyes opened wide at that. He choked back a laugh, and they twinkled merrily. “You are impatient,” he said, grinning. “I like that in a lass. Move over a wee bit more, though. I’m larger than the space you’ve left for me.”

As Lina scooted over, Ian watched to see how she managed her hair. The flickering candlelight played on it, intriguingly rearranging shadows and highlights. The
long tresses did not appear to concern her, though, as she made room for him. When she had settled into place again against the pillows, revealing that the wee hollow of her throat was dewy, he decided to taste that first.

Then his gaze shifted to her breasts, which were moving gently up and down as she breathed. They were medium sized but fully enticing, suggesting that a man’s head might pillow itself between them. But he had other plans in mind first. He had experience with women but not with maidens, since knightly honor forbade trifling with any but the most willing and experienced females. But he was no dolt. He had asked those women many questions and considered himself knowledgeable.

Accordingly, he proceeded to tease and caress her, kissing and stroking every part of her body that he could reach without contorting her or himself or penetrating her. By paying close heed to her every movement and moan, he soon satisfied himself that although she was shy, she enjoyed submitting to him. So when the time came for him to claim her, he took advantage of that.

Deciding that she was ready for him at last, he said, “I am going to do something different now. You must lie perfectly still.”

He had one hand on her belly then and fingers of the other tickling one of her nipples. Moving to claim that nipple with his lips, he eased his hand to the fork of her legs and tickled the opening there.

When she stiffened, he said, “Relax, lass. Breathe in and let it out.”

Although she obeyed him, she moved her thighs closer together.

“Spread your legs more,” he murmured. “Not all of
this will be pleasant. But it is necessary, and I want to prepare you well.”

This time, she took a deeper breath and let it out more slowly and completely. He felt her relax beneath his hand.

Finding the nub known to be the most sensitive part of a woman’s body, he teased it with his finger until she was moaning again, then slid the finger inside her. Feeling her open for him, he moved gently over her and eased himself in.

She gasped. “You’re too big!”

“Be easy, lass, a woman’s body adjusts itself.”

If, in the end, it was not that easy, he was skillful and she remained submissive. So the task was done.

Pounding to his culmination, he knew he must have hurt her. But coupling was necessary for any husband and wife, and initiating it was the duty of any new husband. In any event, Lina seemed relaxed afterward and made no complaint.

In fact, he thought, she seemed strangely distracted. Too sated to twitch a muscle, let alone to talk, he concentrated on recovering enough energy to move.

Stunned—and abruptly unaware of anything else that was happening to her, other than a rather distant ache—Lina had found herself staring at Lady Aubrey and wondered how her mother had entered a room with two locked doors.

Obviously, she could not. No one could do that. But her mother stood right there, not six feet from the bed. Lina opened her mouth to ask what she was doing, but when she tried to form the words, her lips would not cooperate…

While she puzzled over this oddity, she realized that Lady Aubrey was not in the room at all but in another
chamber altogether, as if a wall between the two had opened to reveal her standing there. She knelt then, opened a carved wooden chest, and reached into it.

As she did, a muscular arm reached around her from behind and a large hand clapped over her mouth.

Startled, Lina tried to scream but heard no sound. Feeling weight bearing down on her, she realized that Ian had collapsed atop her and was breathing hard.

Apparently aware that he was crushing her, he muttered, “Sorry, lass. I hope I did not hurt you too much.”

“No, sir, I barely felt a thing,” she said, finding her voice when he rolled halfway off her and no farther. “Forbye, the strangest thing just happened.”

“Aye, sure, but you’ll get used to it,” he muttered, and snored.

Since it was clearly not the best time for her to try to explain what had happened, she decided to think more about it before telling anyone. Sliding out from under Ian, she poured water from the ewer on the washstand into the basin and cleaned herself. As she did, she realized that she was sore down there. The aching eased quickly, so she blew out the candles and climbed over Ian—apparently without disturbing him in the least—and slept soundly beside him.

When she awoke Wednesday morning, he still slept, so she lay quietly until he, too, awoke.

When he turned over and saw her, he said with a grin, “Good, you’re awake. I’ve a rare hunger for ye, lass. I think this marriage is going to be a good one.”

When he reached for her, she sat up, clutched the covers to her breasts, and scooted away. Returning his smile with a wistful one, she said nonetheless firmly, “First, sir, I would explain why I must go with you to Dunglass.”

Chapter 13
 

H
aving three sisters, Ian knew better than to declare that he needed no explanation, because he had made up his mind. His attention having shifted to other parts, he offered the tactful suggestion that they could discuss the matter later.

“I would prefer to discuss it now,” Lina said with her usual tranquility. “Sithee, sir, if you do not take me home with you, just think how it will look.”

“How do
you
think it will look?”

She cocked her head, as if she wondered why he had to ask. Then, soberly, she said, “Do you not mean to tell your parents about this, about us?”

“Of course, I’ll tell them,” he said, although the truth was that he had not spared that forthcoming event a thought. The only time he had considered his parents’ opinion was when Andrew had said they would not object to his marrying Lina. Nor would they, he reassured himself. However…

She continued to watch him. Her expression was unchanged, but he had that feeling again that she looked right into his mind and knew all that was there. That would explain why he could sense so strongly that she was dissatisfied with his answers. In fact, for all the heed that she had paid to the last one…

“Did you hear me?”

“Aye, sure. I just think you should give your decision more thought.”

A shiver shot up his spine. “Look here,” he said, “you begin to sound like Dree. Do
not
tell me that you also think you know what people think and feel.”

“Of course not. I can only tell when you are not being entirely truthful.”

“Oh, is
that
all?” He wanted to shake her. “Just what makes you think you can do that?”

Her smile was rueful, not triumphant. “Likely, I’ll wish I had not revealed my secrets,” she said. “Sometimes I don’t know how I know. I just do. But I can often tell by your expression or the way you tug that strand of hair you are holding.”

Flicking the offending strand behind his ear, he exhaled with what his sister Susanna would call his long-suffering sigh and said, “I’ll admit that I hadn’t given my parents much thought, lass. But you ken fine how much they love you. Do you imagine that they will not welcome you to our family?”

“I know they like me,” she said. “And they have always been welcoming. But they will be more so if you tell them straightaway and do not seem to hide me away here. Mercy, sir, you could be gone for months. What would anyone think?”

“Everyone will think exactly what your father does, that I’m leaving you where you will be safe,” he said, keeping his temper with difficulty. Where had her delightful submissiveness gone? Weren’t wives supposed to obey their husbands?

“What people think will depend on you,” Lina said. “If
you ‘
forget’
to mention a little thing like your marriage, I expect they will think any number of things, none of which will redound to my credit. But if you take me with you—”

“You can put that notion out of your head,” he said curtly. “Dunglass is but three miles from the rebels at Dumbarton. I want you far away from there.”

To ease his temper, he thought fondly of his mother, who always submitted to Colquhoun’s decisions without argument. Regrettably, however, the image that leaped to mind was his father’s chagrin when Lady Colquhoun entered the inner chamber uninvited to declare that he could
not
send Lina and Lizzie away at once.

“Your lady mother is there,” Lina said calmly, as if she were just clarifying her thoughts and not sending chills through him again. His hands itched to catch hold of her but not to shake her. He wanted to rip the covers off and, if she was not too sore from their previous exercise, to reveal more pleasures of coupling to her.

Instead, he said brusquely, “If, by the time I return, my father has not sent my mother to join my sister Susanna, I’ll be gey surprised. Dunglass itself may be teeming with Borderers and other ruffians by then. It will be no place for you.”

“Why are so many ruffians coming?”

“To do battle, if necessary,” he said. “You guessed when I rescued you that my father hopes to persuade James Mòr to yield Dumbarton to his grace. What you do not know is that the King
ordered
me to take back the castle for the Crown.”

Her lips parted and color drained from her face. “That castle is impregnable,” she protested. “No one could take it. James Mòr was able to do so only because the men who then guarded the castle still knew him as Murdoch’s
well-behaved son and welcomed him. James Mòr will trust no one.”

“He would trust his mother,” Ian said, simply because broad statements like that one deserved contradiction. Although the thought
was
an intriguing one.

Lina raised her eyebrows in another speculative look. “You are gey good at disguising yourself,” she said. “And I have never clapped eyes on Duchess Isabella. But I doubt that she is over six feet tall or has shoulders as broad as yours.”

Her tone was solemn, her expression likewise. But the wench’s eyes danced.