When a Laird Loves a Lady (Highlander Vows: Entangled Hearts Book 1) (20 page)

“God,” he murmured as he pulled
back and caught her bright-green gaze. “I’m sorry.”

Her forehead immediately wrinkled.
“You’re sorry? What for? That was…that was…”

He slid her body slowly off his
staff and then lowered her gently to her feet, bringing his hands to either
side of her waist and pinning her against the door. He’d not be surprised if
she tried to run away from him, beast that he was. “I dunnae ken what came over
me.”

She blushed. “I’d like to think it
was desire.”

He felt his eyes widen. “Oh, to be
sure. But I did nae mean to take ye like a wild beast. I intended to be
gentle.”

She cast her eyes down and he
followed her gaze, watching as she curled her toes under her feet. “I like the
way you took me,” she said, barely above a whisper.

He was instantly hard again and so
pleased with himself that he knew it to be a sin of pride, but one that would
likely be forgiven since he was only so pleased because he could bring her
pleasure. He wanted very much to pleasure her again. All night long, if he
thought she could bear it. Perhaps, he’d ease her into the idea. He forced back
the grin he could feel stretching his cheeks and cleared his throat as he
stared at the top of her pale head. His wife was lustful and had an appetite
for bedding to match his own. It was a new situation for him. He sent a silent
prayer of thanks to God for this unexpected gift.

“Perhaps we could take a bath? I
believe there’s still time before supper,” he said, eyeing the tub and Marion’s
voluptuous body. She’d tempt the devil to sainthood if that were what it took
to bed her. The thought made him grin again, just as Marion looked at him.

She cocked her head. “Why are you
grinning?”

“I’m grinning at ye, wife. Ye
please me.” He grabbed her hand, pulled her to him, and kissed her soundly on
the mouth, as he’d failed to do in his desire-fueled haze moments ago. She
tasted wonderfully sweet, and she smelled of wet grass mingled with heather and
earth. He liked it immensely. “Come. Let me bathe ye.” There was much more he
wanted to do to her, but he’d bring that idea into her head one kiss at a time.

They walked hand in hand to the
steaming tub. He held her steady as he helped her in, and then he simply stood
for a moment and stared in wonder at the little water nymph that was his wife.
She’d promptly leaned back into the water, her blond hair floating around her.
Slowly, she sat up, her hair dripping and slicked back from her face. She drew
her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her knees as she stared at
him. The water made her creamy skin glisten. She looked utterly beautiful and
utterly vulnerable.

A trickle of fear ran down his
spine as he thought about what tonight would have been like if she’d fallen to
her death while trying to save Bridgette. His breath froze in his lungs at the
idea. The realization that he cared for her too much already hit him hard, but
he didn’t think there was a thing to be done about what had already happened.
He simply needed to be more guarded in the days to come, but tonight, he wanted
to enjoy her.

He gripped the side of the wooden
tub and stepped in behind her, the water sloshing against the dark wood boards
and sluicing over both of them as he sat down and pulled her
between
his thighs
and into the safety of his arms.

A small sigh escaped her as she
settled against his chest and laid her head back. Her dark eyelashes fanned
downward to veil her eyes. He held perfectly still, wanting the moment to
suspend in time. He knew from losing Catriona that savoring such moments when
he was in them was wise. He closed his eyes and memorized the way Marion’s
bottom curved against him, the silky feel of her skin brushing his own, and the
weight and warmth of her body pressing so trustingly against his chest. Slowly,
he opened his eyes and devoured the sight of her lovely legs and the delicate
appearance of her arms, which belied the strength she had shown when saving
Bridgette.

Marion had courage, it seemed, for
everything she faced. But did he?

He squeezed his eyes shut again, a single
thought drilling into his brain. He had the nerve for battle, the mettle to
lead his clan, the willingness to sacrifice himself to protect anyone in his
care—or anyone who simply needed him—but did he have the courage to give
himself to a woman fully, heart and soul, again? He didn’t know, but he
suspected he’d never have all of Marion unless he offered all of himself.

Suddenly, she stirred and leaned
her head all the way back until her eyes locked with his. Her pink tongue
darted out to lick her lips, and then she spoke. “Iain, could I—” Her cheeks
reddened considerably. “Would you let me—” She bit her lower lip and started to
turn her face away, but he caught her chin and held her steady.

“Never be afraid to ask me
anything, Marion.”

She nodded, blinking rapidly.
“Would you let me touch you?”

For a moment, confusion filled his
mind. She was already touching him. Then she moved away from his chest and
twisted around until she faced him. Her hand dipped under the water and came
between his thighs. Her gaze drew downward to his staff, and understanding made
him hard as stone.

“Ye can touch me anytime ye wish,”
he fairly growled, his voice rough with barely restrained desire. “Ye never
need ask.”

She nodded again and slowly ran the
tip of her fingertips lightly over his rod. He’d kept his silence through a
thrashing during which he was tied to a post, and he’d kept his silence while
having many a terrible battle wound cleansed with fire, but he could not keep
his silence at her touch. A deep, guttural groan escaped him as his muscles
flexed and his blood rushed through his veins. By all the saints, he swore that
every drop of blood in his body went to his staff; the thing fairly throbbed
with the need to be within her.

He saw the delight that brightened
her green eyes. She brought her gaze to his once again. “Do you think it’s a
sin for me to kiss you there?”

“Nay, Marion.” His voice vibrated
in his ears. “I think it’d be a sin for ye to deny yerself, and me, such
pleasure.”

She laughed. “Well, even if it was
a sin, I have to confess I’d chance it and beg forgiveness later.”

“I like a bold lass.”

She cocked her eyebrows. “Any
lass?”

He remembered their conversation
from earlier and her jealous nature. “Nay,” he assured her. “Only ye.”

“Stand up,” she said, her voice
throaty and her green eyes half-closed.

“Is that a command?” he teased.

“Aye, laird,” she murmured. He
stood immediately, water dripping off him, and without another word, she
kneeled and clutched his thighs. Her fingers curled around his muscles as her
mouth found the tip of his shaft. Searing lust exploded in him as her tongue
circled him. When she took the tip into her mouth and sucked, he pressed toward
her, and as he did, a pounding came at the door. She jerked back, her eyes wide
with fear.

“Go away!” he roared.

“My lord, the MacLean sent me to
fetch ye.”

“I dunnae give a care if God
himself sent ye to fetch me. Get away from my door.”

Marion clamped a hand over her
mouth, her eyes crinkling with mirth as merry laughter trickled from her. Iain’s
heart expanded within his chest, a deep happiness spreading through him. It was
so foreign, so forgotten, and so surprisingly welcome in this moment.

“Laird,” came the frustrated Scot’s
voice from the other side of the door. “Alex begs yer attendance. Archibald has
returned with his report, and Alex believes ye may want to hear it. What say
ye?”

A hundred foul curses filled Iain’s
head as he held his wife’s gaze. “I must go.”

“Must you?” she asked and gave him
a lustful look that made him want to stay, but if Alex thought Iain would want
to hear the report now, there must be news. Until he knew what it was, he’d
keep what Archibald was out doing to himself. There was no sense in worrying
Marion needlessly.

“Aye,” he grumbled.

She looked crestfallen but didn’t
pout.

As he got out of the water, he
called to Alex’s man that he’d be down shortly, and then he quickly dressed.
When he turned back to Marion, she was humming gaily and washing herself with a
bar of soap that the servant had brought. He strode over to the tub, his need
for her a hunger gnawing in his belly. Bending down, he settled his forearms
over the edge and crooked a finger at her.

She leaned forward, but he motioned
her closer until every breath she exhaled was one he inhaled. “If I’m verra
fortunate, I’ll be back before we must go down for supper and we can continue
with yer sinful ways, if ye’re willing?”

“So I was doing it right, then? I
wasn’t sure.” Her face, neck, and even the tips of her ears flamed red.

He couldn’t resist teasing her. “I think,”
he said, making his tone serious, “ye may need a good deal of practice before
ye get it just right.”

“Really?” she said, her small
shoulders drooping slightly.

He chuckled as he claimed her mouth
with his and gave her a long kiss. When he pulled back, he cupped her neck and
rubbed his thumb over the long, delicate column. All he could think was how
this woman was now in his care, and he never wanted anything bad to happen to
her again.

“Nay,” he said gently. “I near went
mad with what ye did. I imagine I’d now be a simple fool if we’d nae been
disturbed.”

A smirk came to her lips. “I
thought I might be doing it right by your response.”

He scoffed at that and stood, not
wishing to part with her but knowing he must. “I’ll return soon.”

She nodded and started humming to
herself again as he departed.

When he entered the great hall and
saw Alex looking grave and surrounded by a group of his men, plus Rory Mac and
Angus, Iain knew the news was not good. He strode to the table and sat next to
Rory Mac at the bench, which put Iain face-to-face with Archibald. “What did ye
find?”

Archibald rubbed his knuckles for a
moment before he spoke. “I thought I saw a man with a surcoat with a snake on
it, but I kinnae be sure and I lost the trail. I’m sorry.”

Iain nodded and caught Alex’s gaze.
“I’ll be riding out to search.”

“What?” Archibald said, sounding
incensed. “I’m the best tracker here. It’s insensible for ye to go. Isn’t that
the truth of it, Alex?”

Iain kept his calm, as Alex looked
angry enough for both of them. Alex slammed both his fists against the table,
his eyes narrowing into slits. “Ye overstep as usual, Archibald. And ye boast
too much. Ye’re a verra good tracker, but that dunnae make ye unfailing, nor
does it mean another man will nae be able to find a trail ye lost.” Alex turned
his gaze back to Iain. “I’ll go with ye, as will ten of my men. Will that
suffice?”

Iain nodded. “That should be
plenty.”

“I’ll go, too,” Archibald added,
his eyes darting from Alex to Iain.

“Nay,” Alex said in a now
dangerously calm tone. “For failing to obey, ye’ll stay here.”

The man’s nostrils flared and his
hands curled into fists, but he kept his silence.

The men all stood, and Iain, Rory
Mac, and Angus faced one another. “Rory Mac will come, and Angus, ye’ll stay.”

Rory Mac nodded but Angus crossed
his arms over his chest and glared. “Is it because I’m older?”

“Nay,” Iain assured the man. “It’s
because I need ye to go upstairs and tell Marion that I’ll nae be back as soon
as I thought, and then see her to supper in my stead.”

“Why dunnae ye go tell her ye’re
leaving yerself?” the man demanded.

“Because Marion will want to come,
and I dunnae have time to argue. If I send ye, there is no time wasted when an
Englishman could be getting away.”

“Seems sound,” Angus agreed. “I’ll
simply tell her ye had something to attend to with the MacLean. That way she’ll
nae be worried about ye while ye’re gone. She tends to fret over those she
cares for.” Angus gave him a pointed look.

“Seems sound,” Iain repeated dryly,
purposely overlooking Angus’s efforts to get any more information from him.

Within moments, Alex’s men were
ready to depart, and as Iain and Rory Mac started for the courtyard, Iain
turned back to Angus. “Keep my wife safe from harm.” He knew she’d be protected
here, but there was a tension in his chest that he didn’t like.