Four#3

“Ye’ll get yer hand off me…”

Finley snarled something in Gaelic as he tugged Helen down the last few steps. Lyel was behind the woman, doing little good, because he was loath to actually put his hands on her.

Marcus stood there, offering her a glare that unsettled most men.

Helen tossed her head and boldly stepped up to face him. “Ye did nae need to have yer hounds collect me. I am no’ afraid of ye.”

“So ye have mentioned before, mistress.”

Helen glared at him. “Well? What do ye want from me?”

Marcus’s lips slowly curved. Helen’s eyes narrowed. She started to flounce past him, but he put his arm out, cupping her shoulder and turning her around so her back was against the wall.

“Leave us,” he said.

The position gave her an excellent view of Finley and Lyel making haste toward the hall. Her insides twisted as she realized she was quite alone with Marcus.

“Where did yer mistress go?” he asked.

Marcus was accustomed to getting what he wanted, either by sheer force of will or cunning. Fortunately, she was immune to him.

“Me memory is clouded.” She tried to slip along the wall.

Marcus pressed a hand on the wall next to her, caging her. “We can stay here as long as it takes for ye to recall.”

His gaze dropped to her cleavage. “But if me behavior unsettles ye, best ye recall quickly.”

“Unsettles?” she scoffed. “I hardly recall ye draw breath. Is that no’ the same way ye feel about me?”

“Longing for me attention, are ye?” He continued looking at her cleavage, in defiance of every rule of decent conduct.

“I long to be free to return home,” she shot back. “Ye dropped me in yonder courtyard without a backward glance, and a warning that ye’d burn me father’s house if I went back there.”

He raised his attention to her face, abandoning his attempts at intimidation. “Ye seem to have fared well enough.”

She didn’t care for the compliment. No, not at all, because there was nothing she wanted to like about the burly War Chief.

Nothing.

She lifted her foot and he curled in, expecting an attack on his groin, which left his shin wide open. He jerked and jumped back as she landed the blow. Helen made full use of the opportunity and escaped into the hall, where supper was being served. Marcus was on her heels. He cupped her elbow.

“We’re nae finished, mistress. Ye can be sure of that.” Yet he seemed loath to drag her back in the face of so many watching them.

“And ye may be certain that I will never help ye with a single thing so long as I draw breath.”

She jerked her elbow from his grip, but not before she heard a husky chuckle.

Her heart was pounding as she made her way away from him. Damned brute. It always unsettled her to see the man who’d so easily ordered her abduction.

That was the only reason she’d allow into her mind for her accelerated heart rate.

The only one.

* * *

“Here, lass…”

Bhaic had guided them across the land bridge and through the village until he could once again climb onto the high ground. A body of water stood between them and MacPherson Castle. The moon shone off its smooth surface as the stars came out.

“There used to be an astrologer here,” Bhaic said. “He died a few seasons past.”

There was a small building that might have been called a home as easily as it could have been labeled a workshop. It was an odd, two-story structure, perched on the highest point of land. There was even a single-stall stable built onto it.

“When he grew older, his knees were nae so good, so me father had a horse here for him to use when he needed to get about.” Bhaic slid off the back of the stallion and reached up to help her down. “Me father enjoyed the man’s predictions and rarely made a business move without first consulting with old Maeburn.”

He led the stallion around and into the stall. There was a trough Bhaic filled with oats.

“Ye keep the place stocked?” Ailis asked.

“Aye.” He removed the bridle from the stallion and rubbed the beast’s nose before the horse went looking for the feed. “Ye are nae the only one who feels the weight of those watching in the hall.” He looked up at the building. “Sometimes I come here to look up at things that are far removed from anything MacPherson.”

He offered her his hand, and she laid hers into it, earning a grin. Excitement glittered in his eyes. “The second floor is quite interesting.”

He pulled her inside and shut the door, releasing her in order to lower the bar. He took a good look around the room before moving farther into it. As far as rooms went, it was a good size. There was a hearth, with an iron bar for roasting meat, and a hook to suspend a pot from. Wood was stacked up beside it.

“Lighting a candle will ruin the view,” he said. “Do ye mind the darkness?”

“It is nae so dark.”

In fact, the second floor of the structure seemed to be glowing. There was a loft with a steep stairway. Bhaic gestured her up behind him. “Hold on.”

“Easy for ye to say,” she said with a laugh. “Ye are nae wearing a skirt.”

She struggled to keep her skirt out of the way of her feet. “I wish Helen had left me my belt.”

Bhaic was watching her from the second floor. “Aye, I can see how that would have made things simpler. But I’m grateful she took yer colors from ye.”

She’d almost reached the top when he grasped her waist and pulled her the rest of the way up. He held her against him, the scent of his skin filling her senses.

“Because now I have ye all to meself.”

His tone had turned husky. She ended up resting her hands on his chest, her fingertips suddenly becoming far more sensitive than she’d realized they might be. His breath teased her temple, tempting her to raise her face for his kiss.

Instead, she turned to look at what was glowing. She felt him hesitate to release her.

“Aye…this is what I wanted to show ye.”

He hooked his arm around her back, resting his hand on her hip as he guided her forward. There was a huge glass window that went from waist high to the roof. It was made of squares of glass, all set with thin lengths of iron between them.

“It’s breathtaking.”

It surely was. The moon was full and looked like a glowing ball across the lake. All of the stars were in view, but without the harshness of biting wind.

“Aye, a truly stunning sight.”

Bhaic wasn’t looking at the view. He was watching her. She turned her face toward his, drawn to the husky promise in his voice. It wasn’t something she thought about. No, she was responding to something she felt deep inside her belly.

He cupped the side of her face, holding her steady for his kiss. She saw it coming, felt time freeze as he came closer and closer, finally making contact. He tried to start softly, but she lifted up onto her toes to meet him, craving the connection.

He shifted, pushing his hand along her cheek and cupping her nape to hold her steady. The kiss turned demanding, his mouth moving across hers in a firm motion that made her thoughts spin. She let it all go, kissing him back, searching for the motion, trying to mimic the way he was using his mouth against hers. Sweet sensation tore through her, racing down her spine and curling her toes. It stole her breath, leaving her feeling as if she’d been spun around and around until she was ready to fall down.

She pulled away, turning toward the windows. “I should…thank ye for offering me an alternative to supper in the hall. ’Tis truly a majestic sight here.”

She was struggling to catch her breath, but so was he. That surprised her. She could hear him breathing heavily, heard the slight scuff of his boots against the floorboards as he came toward her.

“I had planned on stealing kisses after I fed ye, but well, what can I say? Ye’re a Robertson. I feel the need to do me stealing first thing.”

There was a playful note in his tone, and it touched something inside her. She’d never thought she’d feel this way with a MacPherson. She laughed and shoved him in the shoulder. “I should cuff ye for it. Did nae yer mother teach ye any manners at all?”

In that moment, he might have been anyone. Heat teased her cheeks as the moonlight highlighted his features.

He shrugged. “Nay. She died when I was still waist high.”

He turned and picked something up. It was a large wicker basket with a cloth covering the top.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

He shook out the cloth and let it settle on the floor. “Yers did too, did she nae?” He offered her a hand and eased her down to the floor.

“Aye. Just after me second brother was born. Childbed fever took her. I do nae remember her.”

He set the basket between them and settled on the floor on the other side of it. He started rummaging through it. “I had to grab what I could before Duana noticed what I was about.”

He started tossing things to her. A plate, a goblet, a napkin.

“Ah…port,” he exclaimed victoriously as he held up a bottle.

“Better confess later,” she said, “else some poor kitchen lad is likely to be blamed for thieving that.” Ailis held out her goblet as Bhaic poured her some. “Duana is nae one to let something like port go unaccounted for.”

“Aye, she likes to run the kitchens her way.” Bhaic didn’t find another goblet in the basket. He shrugged and took a swig directly from the bottle. “But she’ll be doing some bending.”

She was caught in an odd moment of both embarrassment and contentment. Both stemmed from the fact that he was willing to champion her.

“I can fight me own battles,” she said with a touch of determination.

He took another swig from the bottle and put it down so he could rummage through the basket again. “Marcus would enjoy having you trying to kill him a little too much. He’s a rogue, never doubt it.”

“I didn’t mean I’d actually try to…well, brawl.”

He pulled another plate from the basket; this one had a roasted chicken on it. The scent teased her nose and made her belly rumble. A chunk of cheese was shoved onto the side of the plate, the heat from the meat melting part of it. Bhaic placed it between them and offered her an eating knife.

He tore into the chicken and sliced up the cheese. There was a round of bread and some sweet butter for it. The silence grew as the meat disappeared between them. The port was easy to turn to as a remedy for her nerves, but she stopped when she realized she was losing her wits.

“Aye,” Bhaic said, setting the bottle away. “We’ll both end up babbling like fools and wake up trying to remember if we consummated our union or not.”

“Is that why ye brought me out here?”

His features tightened. “I did nae have to bring ye here for that, Ailis. Grant me a wee bit of credit for trying me hand at courting ye.”

She looked up at the moon, feeling foolish and a bit unkind. “It is an impressive view.”

“Aye.” He lifted the basket away and took its place. “But we’re no’ enjoying it quite…right.”

He scooted right up beside her. She shivered, feeling small beside him. He laid an arm across her back, slowly, almost hesitantly as he waited to see her reaction.

He didn’t have to woo her.

Ailis drew in a deep breath and relaxed. It took all of her nerve.

He was overwhelming her again.

The smallest contact between them felt extreme. Her skin prickled, her heart pounded, and her breathing sped up when she caught the scent of his skin. Never once had she decided she liked the way anyone smelled, besides a baby.

She liked the way Bhaic smelled.

But in a completely different fashion.

Oh yes. What she liked about his scent was the way it made her feel small. He was stronger, and that fact didn’t alarm her—it set her blood to racing as he teased the side of her neck with his fingertips.

“I brought ye here…so we might learn to be easy in each other’s company.”

His voice was a whisper, a soft suggestion that might just as well have been coming from inside her. She’d never been one for believing in spells, but at that moment, she was certain she was enchanted by him.

He didn’t have to make the effort. She’d have done her duty if he demanded it. That made her cheeks heat even more, churning up a desire to be more than just his duty. She turned and reached up, laying her fingers against his jaw.

It was a powerful connection, making her glad she was sitting, because she was fairly sure her knees had gone weak.

“Since ye’ve done yer best to impress me, I owe ye a token of me gratitude.”

His face was in shadow now, but she swore she saw his eyes glittering. He eased her forward with his hand, gently encouraging her when she hesitated.

It seemed to take forever to commence with the kiss. Time became a slow-moving thing that allowed her to be aware of every breath she took. Her lips tingled with awareness, anticipation twisting down her spine and pulling her insides tight. It was exhilarating.

Bhaic waited for her.

His jaw tightened, and the hand on his knee was clenching his plaid.

Waiting…for her to kiss him.

She pressed her mouth against his, feeling him adjust the angle of his head so that they fit seamlessly. Their breath mingled, hers catching as she pressed her lips to his, a soft motion that made her shudder with the intensity. It opened up a yearning for more, and she parted her lips, working them against his in a slow action of discovery.

His hand slid to her nape, cupping it and holding her in place. But he didn’t take the lead from her. He followed her, letting her tease and taste his lips. Her thoughts scattered, leaving her a willing voyager on the waves of delight. She wanted to be closer, wanted to open his mouth wider. A moment later, the kiss was harder. Hungrier. It shocked her, and for one insane moment, she happily flung herself into it.

But it was madness, and everything was crumbling around her, leaving her with nothing to hold on to. She pulled back, gasping when she realized how brazen she was being.

“That was worth every damned blow Marcus landed.”

His tone was hard. She eased away from him, suddenly shy. “It couldn’t have been. I do nae know very much about…kissing.”

He stroked her jawline. “Ye’ll no’ make light of it, lass. ’Twas a kiss freely given and I’ll no’ allow ye to take it back. Marcus is no’ the only rogue in the family.”

She shoved him playfully away. “I did nae doubt it.”

But what now?

He had every right.

Every right…

He wanted more. She could feel the hunger between them. His grip on her nape was still solid, his jaw tight as he leaned close.

“Ah, Christ…” he swore softly. “I just recalled what I hate about courting.”

He stood up in a swift motion and reached back down to pull her off the floor. For a moment, she was only an inch away from him, her hands resting on his arms as her skirt pressed against his body. His breath teased her lips, the darkness surrounding them a perfect cloak for the hunger flickering inside her.

“It’s frustrating,” he muttered. “Damned frustrating.”

He found the basket and scooped up everything in a few swift motions. “I am no’ having ye for the first time on the floor.” He was down the steep steps in a swish of his kilt. “Let’s go home.”

He offered her his hand. She made it to the bottom floor before she let the word “home” hit her. It sat uneasily on her stomach as they left the astrologer’s house and mounted. Bhaic pulled his plaid around them both as they rode back across the land bridge and through the gate.

Someone rang the bell, recognizing Bhaic.

“That will raise hell,” he said before pulling up on the reins. Boys were running out of the stable, reaching up to tug on the corners of their bonnets. One of them reached up for her, helping her down as Marcus appeared on the steps of the keep.

“Tempting fate, Brother?” Marcus asked.

“What I was tempting is between me and me wife.”

Bhaic pulled her behind him through the keep. There was an assortment of musicians playing now, the retainers enjoying mugs of ale as the household staff pinched out most of the candles to save them. The hallways were lit with torches. Bhaic took her up the steps and stopped in front of her chamber door.

“Do ye remember what is above this, lass?”

“Aye.” She was breathless and unable to blame it on the rapid climb. No, it was Bhaic and the ideas he stirred in her that were making her heart race.

“I want ye in me bed, Ailis.”

Her breath froze in her throat. His tone was dark and full of a promise that lured her closer to him.

He enclosed her in his embrace, sealing her completely against him. Letting her feel his body. Making sure she felt his strength.

“Yet I want ye there because ye choose to be, for more than the words ye were forced to speak with me inside that church.” He stroked her jawline, his touch delicate and stirring. “Me brother will call me a fool, but I’ll be waiting for ye to come to me.”

She gasped, stunned.

He nodded once before leaning in and pressing a kiss against her mouth. It was hard and demanding, but he didn’t linger over her lips. He pulled away, and she felt the night air rushing in between them, chilling her.

“Come to me, and I’ll prove a patient lover. I promise ye that.”

He was gone a moment later, the shadows swallowing him as he climbed to the next floor.

Ye want to go…

Aye and yet nae. She discovered herself smiling and smothering a giggle beneath her hand.

Hadn’t she gone to May Day seeking courtship? It was surely a pleasant surprise to discover her husband willing to wait on her whim. There were footsteps on the stairs, Finlay’s banter coming up ahead of him. Ailis turned and entered her chamber.

The tub was gone, and the room smelled fresher than it had before. Her chemise was fluttering on a drying rack near the fire, proving that Helen had returned to see the chamber righted. Beyond the arched doorway, a candle was burning on the bedside table, warmly welcoming her.

Bhaic had provided a warm welcome too.

She settled into her bed and pinched out the candle with a smile on her lips. She was suddenly exhausted. Far too tired to entertain the doubt that tried to wiggle past her contentment and remind her that Bhaic might turn mean whenever it suited him.

She wouldn’t think of that.

No, instead, she recalled the ride to the astrologer’s house and the fact that Bhaic hadn’t needed to take her there. Never once had she realized how a man’s pride might be something she’d be happy to contend with.

Tonight, she found herself very pleased to know Bhaic MacPherson was stubborn enough to want only a willing woman in his bed.

Even a Robertson wife.