Eight

 

Shannon suddenly heard the wind again. It was whipping up with the onset of night. Her heart began to slow, and her body felt spent, unable to move except for the necessary rising of her chest to breathe. Her thoughts returned in a flurry of disorganized ideas, rushing in to tear at her.

Her eyes flew open as she realized that she might conceive. It was a startling idea, one that she’d not considered in all her musing. But the hot pulse of delight in her belly told her that nature had everything it needed now.

Firm fingers moved along her hairline, bringing her head down so that Torin could look into her eyes. She shied away from his gaze, ducking beneath his arm to avoid his seeing her thoughts. The man was too keen, too able to read her emotions. For all that she’d just given him her innocence, she was suddenly shy.

He grunted and rolled onto his back. But he didn’t allow her to escape. One arm hooked her around her waist and brought her back against him.

“Do nae start with that yet, Shannon.”

He pressed her head down on top of his chest. His thighs clamped around one of her legs to keep her near.

“Yer kilt scratches my skin.”

He muttered something in Gaelic, his arms tightening around her, but he gave a snort and released her.

“That is nae the reason ye are restless.” He rolled onto his feet in a fluid motion, lifting her up as well and setting her on her feet. His strength still astounded her. A tiny shiver rippled across her skin as she realized how easy it would have been for him to take his pleasure without regard for her pain. He was displeased with her now, his expression telling her that plainly. But the fingers curled around her arms never closed too harshly.

“What is? Regrets for lying with me?”

The evening breeze was chilly. It blew across her bare skin, making her shiver.

“I’m cold.”

It was a truth, and it offered her an escape from meeting his eyes. Bending back down, she reached for her dress. But she stopped short when her gaze fell on her undergown. Made of a lighter-colored linen, it was marked clearly with blood. There would always be a stain on the garment too, because blood was impossible to remove completely once dried.

She shivered again, her body cooling down rapidly. There was a soft sound of frustration from Torin. In the next moment he scooped her off her feet and set her aside. He plucked her underrobe, holding it for a long moment while he stared at the stain. Shannon felt more exposed than she ever had, hugging herself with her arms to cover her nude body. Tears stung her eyes, and she stubbornly blinked them away.

She’d made her choice.

“Give it to me, Torin. I’m cold.”

One corner of his mouth twitched. If he smiled, she didn’t see it, because he gave her undergown a snap before setting it over her head. The fabric blocked out her view of him. Relief flooded her, and her cheeks turned pink with shame.

She was acting the fool but couldn’t seem to control her feelings; they were whipping around inside of her just like the wind.

Struggling to put her hands through the sleeves, she wiggled until her gown fell into place. Torin was waiting with her outer dress, and he placed it over her head the moment she peeked past the first garment at him. It slithered down her body, feeling heavy and confining.

“Now tell me what yer worry is.”

Torin stood, unconcerned about his bare chest being open to the evening air. Instead the man pegged her with a hard look that warned her he was not in the mood to be denied. She recognized the man who had told her he was taking her to the Highlands no matter what she thought about the idea.

Her chin rose, as did her need to stand her ground. “I was cold, and I do nae need to explain that. The sun is almost gone. Dusk has arrived.”

And that was a blessing, because she welcomed its dark folds to hide her expression in. The church bell began tolling in the distance. Torin grunted.

“That is not what disturbed ye.”

He spoke with a quiet voice that was full of authority. He was accustomed to gaining the answers he sought, and didn’t care for her refusing him.

Shannon tossed her hair. “Even if it weren’t, it is the only answer I am giving ye.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. Without a shirt, she could see every muscle where it corded across his wide chest.

Being pressed against it had been perfection…

“Is that a fact?”

“It is.”

He snorted before reaching down to yank his shirt off the ground. He shrugged into the garment with motions that strained its seams. Faint ripping sounds joined the birds whistling in the trees. Torin tucked the tail in with a few hard motions before he reached out and clamped his hand around her wrist.

“What are ye doing?”

He was already walking back to where his horse was standing, taking her along with him. His strides were long and quick, making her hurry to keep pace.

“Taking you back to Donan Tower.” He dropped her wrist and untied the reins that he’d looped around a young tree trunk. A second later he turned and grasped her waist with a solid grip. He tossed her up onto the back of his horse with one soft grunt. The stallion shifted, prancing nervously. Shannon grasped the neck of the beast while staring at the distance to the ground. It seemed a lot farther from the top of the animal than it had standing beside the horse.

Torin swung up behind her, encircling her body with a hard arm that bound her against his body. She was sitting on the horse sideways, and he pressed up against her while gripping the reins in his right hand.

“I’m not finished talking to you about this, Shannon.”

“Well, I’m finished.”

He dug his heels into the stallion, and the beast took off with a toss of its head. With his arm around her, she felt as trapped as she had with her wrists tied.

He chuckled against her ear, and there was nothing kind about the sound. It was pure male promise. A soft quiver worked its way through her; he felt it. His grip opened, and his finger began soothing over the skin of her forearm instantly. The kindness in his gesture brought the tears back to her eyes.

Torin leaned down to whisper against her ear. “Then I’ll have to try my hand at changing yer mind, Shannon McBoyd, for I’m going to know what soured your disposition toward me so that I can smash it into bits that will nae interfere with us again.”

But how could she place a child in the same position she was in? That was irresponsible as well as selfish of her. Taking a lover was all well and fine if she had thought to take some precaution against conceiving. There were herbs that would keep it from happening, but she’d have to ask Baeth for them. Powerful plants such as the ones she was thinking about could be used to kill. They were used in medicines and kept locked away. The head of the house held those keys, her years of experience and proven trustworthiness a critical thing.

They emerged from the trees, and Shannon felt her belly tighten just as it had the first time she viewed Donan Tower. Yet her reasons for feeling apprehension were different now. It was still imprisonment that she feared, but for a far different reason.

Being kept inside the gray walls meant being within Torin’s reach. She craved the man so much, she doubted her ability not to act the fool and surrender everything to him no matter the consequences. Out in the forest was different. He could forget he was a laird there, and she could forget she was the daughter of his enemy. Out there, they were the same as peasant folk who had sneaked away to enjoy each other.

Except that they weren’t peasant folk. Any child they created would be born the child of the enemy because her father had raided Torin’s land. Men did not think of such things. A man could dally where he would and no one would judge him for it. She would bear that burden. It might be her willing choice to be his lover, but a child had no choice and it would be stained with her McBoyd blood. That was something she understood too well.

The moment his horse took to the bridge, she felt eyes on them. The curious watched from the village, and she saw the men on the walls peering down toward them. Her cheeks heated as they drew closer to the gate. Calls went out to tell one and all that the laird was returning. That drew even more attention to them. Boys looked out of the stable windows, eager for a break from their evening chores. Maids looked on from the open doors of the great hall, their eyes widening when they saw her seated on the front of Torin’s horse.

He was their laird, and everyone took notice of his return. Torin stopped in front of the hall, where Brockton had stepped out to greet him on his return.

“Keep yer eye on her.”

Shannon gasped and hit Torin’s jaw with her head because she jerked around to glare at him. A soft exclamation brushed her ears, and then she was being lowered to the ground before getting a chance to shoot a displeased look into his eyes.

“Aye, Laird.” Brockton stepped up beside her, reaching out to gently grip her upper arm.

Shannon shook his hold off with a violent twist of her body. “He said eyes, no’ hands.”

Brockton was startled by her action, his hand releasing her, but his eyebrows lowered, and his lips pressed into a hard line that told her he’d do exactly as his laird instructed in spite of her displeasure. She turned her temper on Torin.

“What means this?”

Torin remained in the saddle, his thighs gripping the stallion powerfully.

“Answer my question.”

“Or ye will have me hounded by yer dog?”

Torin’s expression darkened, but he nodded in a single, hard motion.

“Fine then. I’ll suffer yer dog. Perhaps that’s just the lesson I need.” She tossed her head, feeling her braid snap behind her back.

“Enough.” Torin spoke through gritted teeth. She could hear how much his control was being tested, but did not care. “I care if ye are here and no’ tempting fate by attempting some foolish escape.”

He turned and headed toward the stable. Her temper burned hot enough to keep the night chill from bothering her. Her throat was suddenly too tight, cutting off her ability to breathe. Lined up along the open doors of the great hall were too many maids to count; they were peeking over each other’s shoulders to get a look at her. There were smirks and more than a few condemning expressions.

She was no coward.

Shannon held her chin steady. Aye, she was no coward. Grasping her skirts, she climbed the stairs and walked right through the parting crowd of onlookers. Let them stare; let their laird make a public display of her.

That did not make her his!

It did not.

***

“That was a wee bit harsh.” Connor Lindsey was rubbing down his mount when Torin reached the stable.

“I thought ye were heading home.”

His friend raised an eyebrow at his tone, and Torin cursed. He was grateful for the fact that he was at last in a place where he could speak his mind. His control was worn thin.

“I’m going as soon as the moon rises, but I’ll admit that I’m thinking about taking Shannon McBoyd with me.”

Torin slapped a hand on the rail between them. He did it with every bit of frustration that was bottled up inside him. The wood cracked with a splintering sound that made the horses snort nervously.

“Do nae jest about her, Connor.”

“Why? Because ye have had her?”

Torin raised his head and glared at his friend. “Aye, and I seem to have no humor in me when it comes to any man, even ye, talking about taking her.”

Connor shrugged. “Ye have always been a one-lass man.”

Torin drew in a stiff breath. Connor was correct. His affairs had been few, and he would rather sleep alone than with a woman for whom he did not have feelings.

“I need more than the tumble. My uncle used to say that I inherited that from my parents’ love match.”

His uncle had considered it a weakness and predicted it would cost Torin a good match someday, because he’d be too softhearted to marry for gain, exactly like his father.

“Well, ye have no bastards because of that habit. There’s something to be said for that. I hear the Douglas has too many to count, and that’s among the ones whom he cannae cast doubt upon.”

“There’s plenty who say my lack of bastards is because my seed has no life.”

Torin didn’t care who heard him, because he knew it was being whispered behind his back. His cousin Lundy was beginning to raise his voice now, telling one and all that he would be the next Laird McLeren.

“More likely, yer mistresses have repaid yer loyalty by making sure they didn’t conceive. Women have their ways, but it is getting time for ye to wed and silence Lundy. The man is making my head ache.”

“That’s the first time ye have joined the crowd telling me to contract a wife.”

Connor slipped a bridle over his horse’s head. “This business with the king has me thinking. I need to consider what mess I’d leave behind if I died out on the hills beneath the moonlight I like to ride through so much.” Connor turned a hard look on him. “I plan to marry before summer is finished, and I suggest ye think of doing the same. The pair of us both have several cousins all in line to inherit behind us, and there would be fighting if we left no heirs. We’re no longer boys to be thinking our lives do nae affect others.”

“Aye, we’re grown, and that’s a truth. It is time I took to courting a bride.”

“Well I am nae sure about this strategy ye seem to be employing of setting a guard on the lass. That didna gain ye any of her favor. Ye’d better find another way to charm her.”

“You think Shannon McBoyd would make a good bride for me?”

Connor offered him a smirk. “I think it will be amusing to watch ye try and slip a bridle onto her. That lass is not impressed with yer McLeren lairdship.”

Torin muttered a profane word that drew a chuckle from his friend.

Connor pulled his stallion forward. His men were waiting in the courtyard for him. They preferred to ride at night. In spite of his light coloring, Connor was a man who embraced the shadows. It was the thing that Torin liked best about him.

Torin suddenly chuckled at the smirk sitting on Connor’s lips.

“Do nae worry about how I’ll gain her favor, just be very sure that I will.”

Connor swung up onto his horse’s back. The stallion wore no saddle, only a thick blanket secured with a wide length of leather. Connor Lindsey had been raised by a resentful aunt who never allowed him to forget the fact that his mother wasn’t married on the day that she birthed him. He’d been denied things that were noble, such as saddles. He clung to some of those things to remind everyone that he was proud of who he was in spite of their opinions.

“Maybe ye will, and then again, maybe I’ll have to return and run ye through because it’s more Christian than watching ye suffer.”

With a wolfish smile, his fellow laird took to the bridge. His men followed, and the gate lowered behind them. The sun was gone, night began to capture the last of the daylight. Torin watched his men light the torches set along the wall inside the yard to keep it lit. Along the walls there would be others who went without light so that they could see in the dark.

He could smell her.

Shannon’s scent clung to his body, sweet and spicy. He battled the urge to confront her and turned to the task of caring for his horse instead. There was no point in arguing with her. She was his. If that required him to hold her captive, so be it. Connor’s words were sounding more and more logical, but he admitted that it was more than logic behind his idea of wedding Shannon McBoyd. Part of him wanted a woman who didn’t come to him by her father’s command. His parents had loved each other, and it was something that too few in the world understood the value of. He craved that, longed for a woman who would take him and nothing else, even if his lairdship were stripped away at first light.

Someone like Shannon McBoyd, who accepted him as her lover but lifted her nose at the sight of Laird McLeren and his commands.

He snorted. It was possible he’d found the most perfect woman in Scotland.

***

Baeth watched her bathe.

Shannon felt the weight of the woman’s stare but kept at the task of cleaning Torin’s scent from her skin. She forced herself to continue even as regret clawed at her. There was no other choice. She had been foolish to believe that taking a lover was a choice she might make. Her father had been right to keep her virgin. She’d have to begin praying that her sin did not bear fruit.

“Yer thoughts are too deep, lass.”

Shannon jumped, and the water betrayed her by splashing up and over the rim of the tub. “I am simply tired.”

Baeth raised an eyebrow at the tone Shannon used. The older woman moved further into the room. Shannon felt her heart freeze between beats as she realized what the older woman had draped over her arm.

It was a McLeren arisaid, and the head of house was intent on taking her McBoyd one.

“Stop.”

Shannon stood up as Baeth was reaching for the wool set neatly on the top of a stool.

“Why, lass?” Baeth turned to look at her. “Is there something better waiting for ye back on yer father’s land?” She reached down and pulled the soiled undergown off the stool, shaking it loose so that the dark stain was clearly exposed.

“Ye should take the place ye have earned.”

Earned? The only place she had earned was that of a leman.

“Accepting anything would make me a whore.”

Baeth clicked her tongue in reprimand. “You need to learn that life is nae so often a matter of black versus white, girl.”

“In this case it is. If I take anything for my favors, ’tis a prostitute I am.”

Baeth shook her head. But the head of house turned and left. It wasn’t until she’d disappeared through the doorway that Shannon recalled that her undergown was still in the woman’s possession. She felt the sting of tears once more and sat back down to finish rinsing the soap from her hair.

She wiped the water from her eyes when she heard Baeth’s steps reentering the bathing room.

“You’ll be using this and no argument, lass, or I shall fetch the laird to decide the matter.”

A clean undergown was in her hands, and her expression was tight.

“Mine will be well with a good washing.”

Baeth grunted. “Which will nae be happening tonight.”

Shannon stood up and dried off her body before reaching for the garment Baeth held out toward her. She wanted to refuse it, but the idea of dealing with Torin was not to her liking. It was a fact that she had no resistance in her when it came to him. If ever she’d thought there were truly spells and magic in the world, her fascination with Torin McLeren proved that she’d become the victim of such dark forces. She donned the undergown in spite of her reluctance. Torin would consider it a challenge if she refused. She didn’t have the will to battle with him so soon. Tomorrow would be different. Once the sun rose, the magic spells inhabiting the darkness would fade, leaving her able to think.

Baeth held out the McLeren arisaid.

“I am McBoyd. Donning McLeren colors will not temper anyone’s opinion toward me.”

Or her children. It was black-and-white, without any hint of anything else.

“What ye are is stubborn. Did ye not plan to be accepted by the family that ye were being sent to marry into?”

“I am not married.” Shannon looked at the offered arisaid and shook her head. “Not even hand fasted. But I thank ye for being kind to me.”

Baeth scoffed, disapproval clear on her face. The head of house shook her head.

“Stubborn. Far too stubborn.”

***

Shannon watched dawn break on May morn. Sitting in her window with the shutters wide open, she stared at the horizon. Pink fingers of light appeared first, like a hand reaching over a ledge. More light pushed against the night, until the darkness evaporated in a golden flood.

Her hair was still contained in the long braid that trailed down her back. Tears stung the corners of her eyes, but she resisted the impulse to pull off the tie that held the strands.

Her impulses had already led her too far astray.

Below her window, she heard laughter. The girls of the McLeren clan began running toward the gate and the maypole in the village. Music drifted up from the pipers and drums. Men played at their instruments while walking among the merry girls.

She would not go.

It was settled.

She made her way down the stairs to the kitchens. Only a few women remained to tend the hearths, all of them married, and they looked at her with knowing eyes, the fact that they considered her claimed by their laird apparent. Maybe she wasn’t wed, but when it came to a girl that was warming the laird’s bed, the other men would be expected to ignore her.

Well, that was what embracing free will had gained her. She wasn’t completely repentant. There was a part of her that had enjoyed it full well. Deep down inside her was a woman content in knowing what it was like to decide whom she gave her virginity to. Just like every other member of the clan, her body had been the property of the laird. Lads were expected to swear their loyalty and fight when needed, while the girls were expected to marry up and produce more loyal McBoyds. Being the laird’s daughter only meant that she was expected to serve in a different manner; her body was to be traded for an alliance.

Well, that had not been the case yesterday.

Call her disloyal, fine; she would wear the label proudly. Because along with that went the feeling that she was a woman. She’d never expected it to mean so much to her, never really realized that she longed to make her own decision about who used her flesh. That was the reward for standing up to the looks being cast her way today, judgmental looks, narrowing of the eyes from the other women.

At least there was plenty to do. It kept everyone busy and their lips sealed. Brockton remained behind as well. The burly Scot appeared as unhappy about his posting as Shannon was. He was more diligent than before, only taking his eyes off her when another man appeared to take charge of her. His constant presence set her on edge. An ache formed in the center of her shoulders before noon, and it had naught to do with the work she was doing.

The day dragged on endlessly. Each hour felt like three, and the merriment drifting in on the breeze grated against her straining nerves.

Was Torin lying with another? A girl who wasn’t refusing to dance about the maypole? He was the laird and expected to attend the merriment. She caught herself looking toward the maypole with a yearning that threatened to make her weep.

She was ready to weep with relief when the sun finally set and the last of the supper chores were finished. The chamber she’d been given had suddenly transformed from a prison into a sanctuary. At least it would offer her privacy and relief from the constant presence of Torin’s guard.

She pushed the door shut a little too hard behind her, and it slammed. But that didn’t keep her from leaning against it and sighing. She heard the guard walking away, his steps echoing on the stone steps. The window shutters were still wide open. Shannon stared at them, recognizing that the McLeren women had declined to do anything to ensure her comfort today. The maids closed all the shutters at sunset to conserve the heat inside the tower. A quick glance at the fireplace showed her a cold and dark pile of ashes that had not been shoveled out either.

She would not care about it. The spring evening was not bitter. Stars twinkled in the dark fabric of the night sky, beckoning her toward the open window to enjoy them. It was enchanting. Magical and hypnotizing, even the crispness of the air was alluring. It turned her cheeks cold, and when she breathed it deeply into her chest, it felt renewing, like a bath. It was strange the way the soul longed to frolic outside while logic told you to remain indoors where there was shelter.

She began to pull her braid free. The breeze tugged at the curls that had worked their way free during the day. She suddenly needed to feel her hair loose. Denying herself the privilege of wearing her hair down had been a strain, and her self-discipline was worn thin now. Reaching around to where her overgown was tied, she undid it and pulled off the thicker garment. Soon she’d happily wear her new spring dress because it was made of a thinner wool. Her undergown was free to billow away from her body now, the air teasing her legs. A tiny ripple of awareness moved along her legs and up to her sex. She was more aware of that spot than she’d ever been before. A slight soreness marked the passage of her innocence, but what captured her attention more was the certain knowledge of how much pleasure might be had when she surrendered.

When she surrendered to Torin, that was. There wasn’t another man she’d ever met who made her body tingle with hunger. It was a blunt fact, but at least she might take solace in knowing that she was not a slut who sought tumbles with any man willing to entertain her.

Her father would certainly consider her attraction to Torin McLeren worse than being a slut, but she could not help the fact that she admired the man. He was kind when no one would blame him for being harsh, and he was a man of honor, not one who used the word when it suited him. She realized that she trusted him. That was something that she’d never had before, for every man wearing her father’s colors would have done whatever her sire demanded. Torin McLeren would not be bending to anyone, but he didn’t use that authority to take her against her will. That was what drew her to him; it was the reason she’d struggled against her urges to taste him again in spite of the irresponsibility of such an act. She wanted to be his lover, and there was no way to deny that. It sat gnawing away at her belly, flickering in the little nub at the top of her sex while the darkness sang to her of ages and ages of trysts that had happened beneath its velvet curtain. With only her undergown on, she felt her breasts hanging more naturally. A sense of her femininity seemed to wrap around her, and it brought a smile to her lips.

Picking up a comb, she began to work it through her hair. Below the window, the water of the loch slapped sharply against the boulders that rose above its surface. She continued to brush out her hair, leaving the shutters open. The sound of the water was inspiring, helping to drive away the hopelessness that was trying to sink into her thoughts again.

“There’s something I was hoping to see this morning.”

Shannon gasped, and the comb went clattering onto the floor. She whirled around to face the man she’d been thinking about most of the day. Torin was only two paces away, plenty close enough to reach out and grasp her if she started to fall out of the window yet again.

“You should nae…” Her words trailed off because the look on his face was captivating. She’d never considered herself a pretty woman, but the expression on Torin’s face proclaimed her lovely.

“And ye should nae have hidden in the kitchen on May morn.” His lips thinned. “You do nae know how many times I wanted to find ye and carry ye off over my shoulder, Shannon.”

“Is that some sort of threat that I’m expected to heed?”

He shrugged. “It is the truth.”

His gaze traced her hair, and his expression became one of pure male appreciation. He reached out, one of those large hands intent on touching her.

She stepped aside, edging along the wall. “Ye should go. I’m sure ye didna suffer any lack of invitations today.” Her voice was low because she feared that he’d hear how weak she was when it came to him. Better to keep her shame private. Beneath her loose gown, her nipples beaded and clamored for his lips to taste them once again. She forced her feet to move away from him again because her belly was turning into a cauldron of hot need and she couldn’t seem to halt the rise of desire.

“If ye had nae hidden here, ye would know that my people know that I am not a man who enjoys quick tumbles for the sake of satisfying my lust.”

Torin turned and followed her with slow steps that kept the space between them exactly the same every time that she moved. The end of her bed brought her up short, her eyes widening when she realized she’d moved toward the very place that she did not want Torin to get her to.

“But I admit that part of me enjoys knowing ye hid from me inside me own tower.”

She stiffened. “Ye made sure of that with yer guard set to watch my every step, Laird McLeren.” She used his title because it would have been so easy to allow the look in his eyes to melt her resolve.

“Fault me if you like, Shannon, but I was nae willing to take the chance that ye would try and run. Because I am laird, I canno’ keep my own eyes on ye the entire day long. I assure ye I would like nothing better.”

He sounded sincere, and she was hungry for his embrace to shelter her from the harsher realities of life. But those arms would not be hers when dawn broke.

“It would be better if ye left.”

Torin crossed his arms over his chest, his dark eyes considering her intently. They narrowed slightly, betraying the fact that he was not as calm as he appeared.

“Ye enjoyed my touch full well, Shannon.”

Male satisfaction edged his words, but he did not grin at her. His face had taken on a hard look, one that she recognized from the night they’d met. The Highlander in him was not going to back down easily. But neither was she.

Her hands settled on her hips. “That does nae mean I plan to warm yer bed every night henceforth. If that were true, I’d be wearing yer colors to make it plain that I am yer leman. Baeth tried to give them to me.”

He stiffened. “And ye refused my plaid after yielding yer purity to me?”

“I did.”

Her tone drew an instant response from him. The muscle on the side of his jaw twitched, but she was only granted a moment to notice it. Torin moved as fast as lightning once again, reaching out for her and grasping her wrist. He lifted her arm up and leaned toward her while lowering his body down onto one knee. With a quick jerk on her hand, she tumbled toward him and over his broad shoulder. He surged back up to his full height, taking her with him. Her hair instantly fell down to wrap around her head and block her ability to see. Torin turned and only paused when he got to the door to her chamber. Without any hesitation, he took her right through the doorway and began climbing the stairs to the floor above, where his chamber was. He took the steps three at a time, his longer strides making it a simple matter. She clamped down on her urge to hiss an angry protest at him. The stairs were in a narrow corridor built out of stone, and every sound echoed along their length. Just as she could hear someone coming up the stairs, anyone on the other floors would hear her berating Torin for his current behavior.

Her restraint ended the moment he shoved the larger door to his chamber shut behind them.

“Put me down, you brute.”

He complied instantly, although not in a manner that pleased her. Torin tossed her down in the center of his bed. Her hair was tangled around her, and her gown twisted up above her knees. The bed shook when she landed on it, making it a struggle to sit up and fix the man in her sights.

She froze when she got a look at him. Torin yanked his shirt off and threw it across the room.

“I am nae a brute, Shannon McBoyd, even if I’m tempted to act like one because ye have called me such.”

“What do ye call carrying me in here, then? Gentle behavior? Are ye courting me? Is that it?”

His eyes flashed with warning. His hand moved to the wide belt holding his kilt around his waist, and she swallowed roughly. There was no hiding the excitement that twisted inside her. She wanted to see him, all of him, just as she had the night she’d arrived.

“I call carrying ye to my bed a better idea than the one ye had that would have seen both of us spending the night alone.”

“Spending it together is nae such a grand idea either.”

He pulled the tail of his belt back to release the double brass pins that held it secure. He held the belt up in one hand and caught his kilt in the other. Years of practice must have made it possible, because it looked like a clumsy task to her eyes. Torin managed it without any trouble; nothing but smooth motions of his hands, and his kilt was laid aside on a table in mere moments.

“If it is nae such a grand idea, why are you watching me like ye are, Shannon?”

He turned and caught her staring at him, his lips curving into a grin to confirm that he’d only been guessing that she was looking at him. His voice was coated in satisfaction with having caught her doing exactly that. “It appears to me that you like what ye see. A very great deal.”

How could she not?

Everything about him drew her closer. Her lips had gone dry, and she ran her tongue across her lower one. A soft gasp became lodged in her throat when she noticed him staring at her mouth. Hunger shone in his eyes, and his lips thinned as he pressed his mouth into a tight line. He turned in a fluid motion that once again betrayed how much strength there was in it. It was more than his strength that captivated her; it was his sure command of that power. His body was honed to perfection.

And his cock stood hard and erect.

His soft male chuckle bounced around the chamber. She heard his steps on the floor, a mere whisper of a sound as he moved closer to her. His hand slid across her face and into her unbound hair. He combed it with his fingers while another soft male sound rumbled through his chest.

“Yer face says ye enjoy being right here.” The hand in her hair cupped the back of her head, raising her face. “So do nae call me brute.”

“You are a brute, Torin McLeren, and I do nae think ye are sorry for it.”

His gaze lowered to her mouth, and her lips tingled.

“Aye, lass, ye have that bit correct.” His hand tightened in her hair, and the bed moved as he placed one knee on it. “What I still don’t understand is why you turned so cold yesterday.” His eyes glittered with determination. “Tell me why ye hid in the kitchens today.”

His demand was like a bucket of icy winter water being tossed at her. His scent was teasing her senses, but his question shattered her rising passion, souring it with harsh reality.

“It does nae matter why, only that I have made my choice.” She extended one arm and pushed against his chest. “Ye should respect my decision.”

One of his dark eyebrows rose. “Careful, lass, no brute would respect anything but what he wanted. A barbarian takes what he wishes. There is no gentle courting involved, only hard possession.”

He was using her words against her, neatly trapping her between what she thought was right and what his touch made her seek out.

“You were acting the brute when ye tied me about ye and brought me here, but that is nae the man whom I went riding with yesterday.”

His expression darkened before she finished speaking. The fingers resting on her nape tightened.

“I can be that man, lass. Didna I prove that to ye? That was no’ ravishing that happened between us. Ye surrendered to me.”

“I never accused ye of any wrongdoing.”

His eyes flashed a warning at her. “Nay, ye only turned cold, pushing me away without sharing the reason. That is not the way of it between lovers, Shannon.”

She’d wounded him by doing so; the proof was in his tone.

“Is that why ye set yer men to guarding me?”

Something flashed in his eyes that looked as formidable as it did exciting.

“Aye.” His tone was gruff. “Call me brute if ye like, but I was nae going to take the chance that you might try to escape me before I had another chance to lie with you and work my way into yer affections.”

“Why would ye care if I have affection for you?”

His eyes narrowed. “It does nae matter why, only that I do, and like the Highlander ye have called me, I will nae lose what I crave.”

He leaned down and took her mouth, pressing a hard kiss against it while pushing her down into the bed. It was his bed, and the feeling of it against her back sent a surge of anticipation through her. Her thoughts abandoned her as his mouth demanded that she part her lips for a deeper kiss.

She wanted to…

And desire was not far behind. His scent surrounded her, drowning her rational thinking in a flood of sensation. Sweet and pleasurable, her body eagerly reached for what she had forbidden it all day long. The endless hours had left her starving, and there was no refusing her appetite now that what she craved was within her grasp.

She opened her mouth, and his tongue thrust boldly inside. A welcome invader, she teased it with her own tongue. His bare chest was a delight for her hands. She slid her fingers and palms along the hard ridges that her eyes had enjoyed so much.

“Yer hair is beautiful, lass. A pure delight. Part of me is glad that ye saved it for my eyes alone.”

Torin buried his head in the cloud that lay across his sheets. He drew in a deep breath, his chest vibrating with a sound of male enjoyment.

“But—”

“Leave me my imaginings, Shannon.” He lifted his head out of her hair and looked at her. “If for nothing more than I have never left May Day for any woman like I did tonight for ye.”

“Ye left?”

One eyebrow rose. “I couldn’t bear the thought of ye undressing without me there to enjoy it.”

“But… surely there were others…”

“I want ye, Shannon. It has never been my way to tumble many lasses, only to tumble the one lass whom I consider mine, very often.”

He suddenly sat back on his knees with his thighs spread on either side of her body. Her breath lodged in her throat because he looked so powerful. He was once again cast in shadow, with only a teasing of scarlet coming from the coals gently glowing in the fireplace across the chamber. Determination was etched into his face. He reached down and grasped her gown in both hands. With a hard tug, he pulled her undergown up her body. She sat up with the motion and ended up flopping back down onto the bed in a cloud of her own hair. The night air brushed her newly bared skin. She felt so completely at his mercy, with nothing to shield her at all.

“And now I shall enjoy my barbarian stolen prize.”

Her pride rebelled, needed to somehow even things between them. She reached out and grasped his erect length with one hand. It was bold and possibly wicked, but she could not resist the urge to touch him as boldly he had done to her. All the whispers she’d heard from other girls swirled around inside her head like a storm, pushing her frail protests off balance. He sucked in a harsh breath that whistled through his clenched teeth.

“Do you like this?” She worked her hand down the length of his cock. “Because if you do, ye had better notice that I am nae acting like a stolen prize.” She slid her hand up and down his erection, marveling at the way his face drew taut. The strain pulled his lips until they were thin, baring his teeth slightly. But she could see the intense enjoyment in his expression. It was primal, and it drew a flicker of desire from her own body.

“I am happy to be corrected.”

She chuckled at his words. His voice was husky with need, a need that she was building. Confidence surged into her, making it easy to continue to moving her hand along his length. She teased the slit on the head, her thumb slipping through a drop of fluid that had appeared there. Pulling her legs up, she rolled onto one hip so that she was lying across the width of the bed. The position was much more to her liking.

“Happy, ye say…”

His breath grew rapid. “Yer touch makes me far more than happy, lass.”

Sharply edged, his tone was laced with passion, not soft and flowery like a sonnet, but as hard as the flesh in her hand. She preferred it that way; there was nothing about sweet words that she craved.

But she would not give in to those cravings yet. Her pride wanted to have its way, wanted to prove that she was no prize to be consumed at his will. She planned to give as good as she received.

Leaning down, she blew a soft breath over the ruby head of his cock.

“Sweet Christ.”

Torin spoke through gritted teeth. She could see the muscles along the column of his neck, corded and tight. Yet he did not move away. Instead he looked down at her, anticipation glimmering in his eyes. He was waiting on her. Power surged into her and washed away the last traces of hesitation.

Torin cursed in Gaelic when she closed her lips around his cock. His hands tangled in her hair while she tasted him for the first time. There was nothing unpleasant about it. Her senses were filled with his scent, and his skin was smooth inside her mouth. Moving her tongue around the crown on the top of his cock, she heard him gasp. It was a deep male sound of enjoyment. Opening her mouth wider, she took more of his length inside. Another drop of fluid was resting in the slit on top of the head. It was salty against her tongue when she licked it away. His hips jerked, thrusting his cock toward her face. It slid deeper into her mouth, but she remained relaxed, allowing it to penetrate.

Torin growled.

The sound was praise. She soaked it up while returning to teasing him with her tongue. She flicked it over the head and across the skin beneath the ridge of flesh that encircled it. His hips thrust in a short, jerky motion toward her, the hands in her hair gently gripping to keep her in place. More drops of fluid appeared at the slit, and she sucked them away the instant she tasted them. Sending her hand back down his length, she teased the twin sacs hanging from the base.

“Enough, lass, else I’ll lose my seed in yer mouth.”

He pulled his cock from her mouth, keeping her from following him by his grasp on her hair. Frustration bit into her.

“I hear some men prefer it that way.”

He reached down and hooked an arm around her body, beneath her arms. With one powerful motion, he lifted her up until she was on her knees just as he was. The arm remained, looping lower across her waist to bind her against his body.

“Some women prefer to climax beneath the tongue of their lover too. Shall we discover if ye are one of them?”

“What?” Her voice was a ghost of a whisper, shock holding her in a tight grasp. But hidden between the folds of her sex, her bud began to throb in earnest. She’d only heard of such a thing once, and she’d doubted that it was true.

Torin chuckled and scooped her off her knees. He didn’t seem to have any difficulty lifting her and laying her down on her back. He rose up above her, looking every inch like a legend once again. Moonlight glittered off his torso, illuminating the ridges of muscles packed onto his chest.

“If ye knew to take my member between yer sweet lips, ye must have heard that a man can repay the favor.”

“I did nae believe it…”

He chuckled, but it was not a happy sound. Instead it was full of wicked intent. He lowered his body to cover hers, his hands cupping each of her breasts. She felt his breath against her lips while he teased her nipples with his thumbs.

“I will be more happy to give you reason to believe.”

“Torin—”

He pressed a hard kiss against her mouth, trapping her words of protest. This was no gentle kiss. Torin took her mouth with a hunger that stole her breath. His cock was hard and pressed against her thigh. Feeling that ridged flesh made her yearn to be filled. She was eager for it, her hands slipping down the sides of his body to grasp his hips.

“Nae yet, my sweet. The night is young, and we’ve plenty of time to sample each other.”

He slid down her body, sending a rush of sensation through her as his warm male skin lay against her own. His hands parted her thighs, pushing them apart and up on either side of her hips. Anticipation spiked into her, making it nearly impossible to draw breath.

He toyed with the curls on her mons for a moment, pulling on the strands with delicate motions before venturing lower to touch the skin guarding her passage. She jerked, that first touch too much to remain still for.

She gained another husky chuckle from him.

“Amazing, isn’t it? The amount of pleasure yer body can feel from so slight a touch.”

His fingers played over her folds, stroking each side before he trailed one fingertip down the center. She shivered, her body arching toward that touch while she feared that the level of intensity might leave her insane.

“Torin—”

“Shh, my sweet. I enjoyed yer lips around my cock, and it is a selfish man who fails to repay his lover.”

Her eyes widened at the determination in his tone. His fingers returned to stroking the seam between her folds, slipping between them with the aid of her arousal.

“I see yer body is receptive to my ideas, even if yer mind needs a bit of convincing.” Even in the dark she saw his eyes flash. “A task I will be most happy to apply myself to, sweet Shannon.

He leaned down, and she felt his breath against her wet folds. Another shiver shook her, this one almost violently. Her hands grasped at the bedding beneath her as he opened his mouth and pressed a soft kiss against her sex.

“Torin, you cannot.”

“Oh but I can, lass. This little pearl is the center of yer pleasure, and it is a wise man who learns to stroke it correctly.”

She suddenly frowned. “Ye’ve practiced? A great many times?”

“No’ with as many women as ye are thinking, Shannon.” His eyes glittered with something hard. “I’ve had a few mistresses, but I’ve nae bastards that I know of, because I kept to each one of them without straying.”

It was an uncommon thing, and something she never might have thought of him. “But ye’re laird now…”

“Aye, and there is even more reason for me to make sure where I place my seed. Connor was a bastard, and it is no’ an easy life.”

Shannon turned over and heard him make a frustrated sound beneath his breath, but he allowed her to move away from him.

“Then I should nae make any mistakes that might change the fact that ye have no bastards.”

“Ye need to trust that I’ll nae simply take my pleasure and discard ye the moment I’m spent between yer thighs.”

Torin crossed the distance between them, his hands diving into her hair and holding her face for a kiss. He smoothed his hands down her back and cupped each side of her hips before he lifted her up and lay back down on the bed, settling his shoulders against the bedding.

“What are ye doing, Torin McLeren?”

“Gaining a better view.” He held her above him for a moment before settling her over his lower body. Her thighs spread as she descended, and her knees pressed into the bed on either side of his hips. Trapped between them was his erect cock, taunting her with how hard it was.

“I’ve felt ye beneath me, lass. Now I want to know if ye have the courage to ride what yer passion craves.”

“Ride?”

“Aye.” His voice had become raspy again. He grasped her hips, lifting her up enough so that his cock sprang up, standing rigidly beneath her opening. His words suddenly made perfect sense, and the image they produced sparked excitement in her. That same urge that had seen her wrapping her lips around his cock rose to the challenge of being the one to set the pace of their coupling.

He began to lower her onto his length, the head of his cock burrowing easily into the wet sheath above it. A soft moan crossed her lips, satisfaction at last rippling through her as he lowered her until his member was fully lodged inside her. She took him in this time with only a twinge of discomfort.

“Show me what ye crave, Shannon. Ride me.”

“I will.”

There was determination in her tone, and she spoke too loudly, because her words bounced off the chamber wall. Torin didn’t seem to mind. His hands gripped her hips, beginning to raise her, but Shannon lifted her body up with her thighs, all the way until only the head of his cock remained inside her. Then she allowed her body to lower, taking his cock back inside her with the motion. His face tightened, betraying how much he enjoyed her actions. Shannon lifted herself once again, watching his expression, allowing it to fill her with confidence. She craved him for more than the pleasure his body gave hers; this was the only place that she had ever felt his equal. For the moment, there was only the pair of them, and neither was superior to the other. They fit together like two halves of something that was stronger when united.

For the moment she dominated him, setting the pace. Pleasure rekindled inside her, growing with every downward motion. But Torin wasn’t still; he rose off the bed to meet her each time she came down onto his length. The sound of their breath growing labored filled the bedchamber, but she was most fascinated by the look on his face.

He was enjoying the view. Harsh and primal, his gaze roamed over her body. Moving from her face to her breasts, watching them bounce with each downward plunge. But his attention didn’t remain there; it slid lower, until his dark eyes were focused on her mons, watching his cock disappear inside her.

“Sweet Christ, I could die here and never regret it.”

He reached out and sent a finger between the folds of her sex toward her pearl. Her thighs quivered, breaking her rhythm when he found that sensitive nub. A soft chuckle rumbled up from his chest. Shannon bit her lower lip and continued riding him. His eyes glittered with challenge, one she was eager to meet.

But it became a battle of wills. He fingered her, sending intense sensation spiking through her. She increased her pace, rising and falling faster. His cock felt like it was growing even harder, and a muscle began to twitch along the side of his jaw too. But his eyes locked with hers, each of them intent on pushing the other into climax first. A moan rose from her throat, and the intense burning his finger was coaxing from her flesh consumed her. Coupled with his hard member filling her, a burst of pleasure loomed closer and closer, refusing to be resisted. She gripped his hips tighter between her thighs and moved faster, pumping her body quicker. His nostrils flared and his lips thinned, until his teeth flashed at her.

“Ye have too much instinct and use it too well, Shannon.”

For all that he looked like he was at her mercy, Torin was anything but. He surged up, clamping his arms around her to bind her to his body. The bed shook violently as he turned and they both landed back on its surface. Only now, he was on top of her, his length still buried deep inside her. His hands moved to her hair, threading through the strands until he framed her face.

“Too well, for I have exhausted my restraint.”

The bed shook again. Torin took command of their pace with a fury. His hips moved in hard, rapid thrusts that drove the breath from her. Shannon heard her cries but could not even think to bite them back. There was too much pleasure coursing through her, too much enjoyment of every hard plunge to contain it. The only thing to do was meet him on every thrust and clasp his hips between her thighs. Rapture broke through her, deeper and stronger than it had the first time. It ripped through her belly, the walls of her passage tightening around the hard flesh tunneling into it. Torin stiffened, his body bucking frantically for a moment before she felt him begin to spill his seed deep inside her. She actually felt the hot spurt of his release, and it caused another tremor to move through her womb. She lost the ability to think, her mind shutting down while her lover collapsed on top of her.

Her eyelids lifted later, but she wasn’t sure how much time had passed.

Somehow, in spite of the night chill, Shannon discovered her skin coated in sweat. Every muscle she had felt too exhausted to move, even a little bit. The bed was a welcome support against her back, and her eyelids wanted to flutter closed while she waited for her heart to slow down.

She could hear Torin’s rough breathing in the dark, just a mere whisper, but with her heart slowing, her ears detected the soft, raspy sound. A shiver rippled across her skin. She realized that the shutters were still open, allowing the night breeze to brush across her bare skin. It also allowed the moonlight inside. The silver glitter illuminated one shoulder and leg of her partner. A soft sigh passed her lips as she relived that first night she had watched him.

He suddenly rose up, propping an elbow against the bed and placing his head in his open hand.

“Come here, Shannon.”

He didn’t wait for her to comply but slipped one arm beneath her waist and pulled her toward him. Another little muttered sound of enjoyment escaped her lips because he felt so good against her. His skin was warm, and he hugged her close against his body, pressing his front against her back.

“No.”

He made a soft sound of frustration, his arm tightening around her waist. While his arm was around her waist, his elbow was bent, allowing his hand to cup one breast. His fingers teased the nipple, toying with it while he nuzzled against her neck.

“I will sleep in my own chamber.”

His feet closed around hers, locking them in place.

“Torin—”

“I enjoy the sound of my name on yer lips.” His hand left her breast to brush down across her belly to the curls on the top of her mons.

“Torin, stop.”

His fingers remained in the silky hair, petting the curls but venturing no lower. She heard him grunt with disapproval.

“Do not deny that ye enjoyed my touch now.”

She squirmed but gained no distance from him. “I wish to sleep in my own bed.”

“Yet it is not yer bed, but another one that I own, so what is the difference?”

Shannon sent her elbow backward, but all she gained was a chuckle.

“The difference is that I wish to sleep alone.”

“Humm…” His lips pressed a soft kiss against her neck and then another. A shiver raced down her body, and her bottom wiggled ever so slightly against his hips, where his cock was still half erect. It was pure reaction, something her body did without consent from her logical thoughts.

“Release me, Torin.”

“I think no’.”

She wiggled, arching against his hold only to have him sigh against her ear.

“Lovers do more than couple, Shannon.”

She froze because there was a note of tenderness in his voice that enticed her. It combined with the warmth of his body, making it impossible to resist. His fingers stroked across her belly on their way back to her breast once more.

“Lovers enjoy lying with one another, sharing their warmth.” He cupped her breast once more, sending another shiver of enjoyment down her body. “There are too many nights that we must suffer cold, lonely beds. Why be in a hurry to experience that?”

His voice was sultry, tempting her to do exactly as he said. Her will to argue was crumbling like a riverbank during a spring flood, the ground giving way to the force of the water. His chest rumbled behind her as he chuckled.

“Ye shouldn’t be amused by me.” And she shouldn’t sound so wounded, yet she did. Her emotions were suddenly so tender, it hurt to think. All she wanted to do was sink down into the night with his arms cradling her and savor the feeling of his arms around her. She hadn’t realized that she was as lonely as she was in her own bed. Now that she had a comparison, she understood, and the difference was stark.

“Can I nae find enjoyment in yer company as well as yer flesh, sweet Shannon? Would that not be kinder than releasing ye to seek out a bed that is cold, with regrets for the passion we just shared?”

“Perhaps it is best if both of us recognized that the passion between us is wrong.”

His fingers began pulling on her nipple once more. The sensitive tip was soft now, and he gently tugged it out, milking the soft skin. A gasp lodged in her throat as delight bled over the tender peak and into her core.

“It feels very right to me.”

Her body agreed, the nipple growing hard between his fingers. She could feel his cock hardening against her bottom too.

“What is yer worry, Shannon? Do ye hate my blood so much?”

“Nay.” She answered too quickly, knocking her head against his jaw as her body erupted with denial. He tightened his arms about her, while a harsh sound came from his lips.

“Then explain.” His voice was muffled in her hair. She heard him inhale against the loose strands and sigh. That little sound defeated her. Lying with him was a delight, and one that she knew the opposite of all too well.

The chamber down the stairs would be cold. It would be more than the chill of the night too. It would be the loneliness that would be so difficult to bear. Here, there was the warmth of her lover. In spite of her fears, she could not reject the kindness. The reason was simple: Torin didn’t have to hold her. He’d had what she’d always heard men wanted from women, and yet he wanted her to linger in his bed. His cock was erect now, pressed up against her bottom, and he did nothing to gain entry to her. Instead he nuzzled against her hair some more before blowing out a long breath.

“I’ll not be forgetting, Shannon, yet I suppose I need understand that trust is not something that grows quickly. I’ll wait for ye to tell me.”

His words brought tears to her eyes. Becoming his lover hadn’t meant that she expected him to care how she felt, not in her heart, anyway. It was too tempting to sink down into the moment and allow it to surround her.

Tomorrow would be soon enough to worry about the rougher edges of life.