Connie Mason (12 page)

Once inside her chamber, Elissa sat in the window seat and stared out over the grounds. She had decisions to make and plans to formulate. She needed to decide where she would go after she left Misterly. Fleeing to her cousin Christy at Glenmoor was always an option, but since Christy had been wed as a child to an Englishman, she worried that she’d cause trouble for her kinswoman. As close as she and Christy had been as children, there was a difference in their situations. Christy felt no affection for her absent husband while she loved Damian. Elissa’s heart told her she couldn’t remain at Misterly once Damian and Kimbra were wed. Her strong feelings for Damian were becoming more of a problem with each passing day.

Why did her heart pound and her body burn when he touched her?

Why did she obsess about him?

Why did she hate the idea of Damian marrying Lady Kimbra…or anyone?

Elissa’s thoughts skidded to a halt when she heard the whisper of approaching footsteps. Her head snapped around. “Nan, you startled me. I dinna hear you enter.”

“Ye were lost in thought, lass.” She searched Elissa’s face. “Do ye want to tell me about it?”

Elissa studied her folded fingers. “There’s naught to tell.”

“Donna do it, lass.”

Elissa’s head shot up. “Whatever are you talking about?”

“Donna believe anything Lady Kimbra tells ye. She’s a sly one.”

Elissa’s eyes widened. “What do you know of Lady Kimbra?”

“My ‘voices’ warn me of her,” Nan said. “Heed me, lass. Donna endanger yer bairn.”

“You’re daft, Nan,” Elissa scolded. “I am not with child.”

Nan gave her an enigmatic smile. “Will ye be able to say that tomorrow with the same confidence?”

“Nonsense!” Elissa jeered. “Take your bizarre statements elsewhere, I have no patience for them.”

“Verra well, lass, but donna forget my words. Sleep well.”

The way she said, “sleep well,” sent chills down Elissa’s spine. Nan’s premonitions were often vague and sometimes frightening, but this time they made no sense.

Still pondering what Nan had said, Elissa undressed and readied herself for bed. Sighing wearily, she turned the lamp low, slid under the covers, and closed her eyes, trying not to think about what was going on in Kimbra’s bedchamber. Damian was a virile man and Kimbra a seductively lovely woman. Their marriage was a foregone conclusion; they had every right to indulge themselves in any way they wished.

Elissa was flirting with sleep when a creaking of the door hinges warned her that she wasn’t alone. Had Nan returned to spout more nonsense? Was something wrong with her mother? She sat up and struck a match to a candle.

It was Damian. He was leaning against the closed door, a dark shadow of a man she’d recognize anywhere. Blades of diffused light slashed across his face, concealing more than they revealed. His expression was guarded, his eyes were unreadable.

“What do you want?” Elissa asked over the thunderous beating of her heart.

Damian pushed himself away from the door. “I couldn’t sleep. I tried to engage Sir Richard in conversation or a game of cards, but he preferred Maggie’s company. Sir Brody had already retired, and there was no one else about.”

Elissa pulled the covers up to her neck. “Go away. How dare you enter my chamber without my permission? Have you tired of Lady Kimbra’s company already?”

Damian approached the bed with catlike grace. “This is my home. I go where I wish. As for Lady Kimbra, I’ve had all I can take of her for one night.”

“I hope you realize your lady’s behavior will lead to trouble if she isn’t curbed.”

“Forget Kimbra. There is something I wish to discuss with you.”

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

He settled on the edge of the bed, ignoring Elissa’s murmur of protest. “We will talk now.”

“Verra well. What is it?”

“I want you to know that neither you nor your family will be sent away because Lady Kimbra wishes it. No message she dispatches to the king concerning you or your family will reach London.”

“Why would you do that? I would think you’d wish to please Lady Kimbra.”

“Aye, well—the lady doesn’t please
me.
I will wed her because I must, but I don’t have to like it.”

Elissa blinked up at him. “I thought she pleased you very well. Lady Kimbra is a great beauty. You seemed to enjoy kissing her.”

“She kissed
me,”
Damian whispered in a voice suddenly grown hoarse. “Her hair is blond and there isn’t a freckle to be found on her aristocratic nose.”

Elissa touched her nose, well aware of the smattering of freckles she’d tried to bleach with lemon when she was a child. Her gaze locked with Damian’s. His took on a seductive glint that irresistibly drew her into their glittering promise.

“Damian, nay…” She whispered the words so softly they scarcely stirred the air. She knew what he wanted for she wanted the same thing. But she couldn’t…wouldn’t…

“I haven’t asked you for anything…yet.”

“Then go, before…”

“Before your desire becomes as great as mine?”

“Aye…nay…I donna know. I canna think straight when you look at me like that.”

“Then why not admit you want me?”

“’Tis not…wise. You’re going to wed Lady Kimbra. She despises me. You should let me leave before the Hanover learns I havena been disposed of according to his wishes.”

“You want me to let you go so you can run to the Gordon chieftain?”

“Nay, I will go somewhere…anywhere but to Tavis. He lost my regard when he asked me to…never mind, ’tis over and done with.”

Damian was silent a long time, then he said, “I will consider your request.”

“When can I leave?”

“When I decide the time is right.”

He grasped her shoulders and pulled her against him. His voice held a desperate note. “You don’t understand, do you, sweeting?”

“What am I supposed to understand?”

His voice was taut, as if stretched to the limit. “That no matter how hard I try to stay away from you, I find myself being drawn ever closer. Lust is a strange emotion. I’ve been smitten before, but never like this. I’ve always prided myself on my self-control, until you came along. What happened to me, Elissa? Has your old nurse put a spell on me?”

“There is no such thing,” Elissa scoffed.

He shifted, melding their bodies together. “Can you feel how much I want you?”

Her breath hitched; desire pounded through her. He was already swollen and hard. Her resolve melted as she fell headlong into his passion, letting it fill her until there was nothing but raw need throbbing through her.

“You shouldna be here,” she whispered tremulously.

He gave her a wolfish grin, then captured her lips, moving his mouth passionately over hers. Elissa tried to tell herself she didn’t want this, but the lie stung her tongue. Dimly she recalled Nan’s words earlier tonight, after she’d denied that she carried Damian’s bairn.

Will ye be able to say that tomorrow with the same confidence?

Not if Damian had his way tonight, a small voice cautioned. The warning was like chaff in the wind as Damian’s mouth and hands made a mockery of her resolve. She wanted to feel him close to her, wanted to savor every dazzling, exciting moment while she could, before reality intruded. Her mouth clung to his; her arms crept around his neck, needing more than mere kisses.

She responded eagerly, holding nothing of herself back. The urgent pressure of his body against hers made her feel gloriously alive. His kiss deepened; she responded with a moan of surrender. She wanted him inside her…now.

Damian ended the kiss; she clung to his lips, breathless, dazed. He regarded her solemnly, his voice raw with feeling. “There’s no place I would rather be at this moment.”

“I’ll never forgive you for doing this to me.”

He bunched her nightdress in his fists and raised it slowly upward. “Doing what?”

Her heart slammed against her ribs. “Making me want you.”

She raised her eyes to his and saw naught but his raw need. There was no pretense in his steady gaze, only a dark and heady intensity that hung heavy in the air. It was effortless seduction, and she was his willing partner.

His hand found her. She felt her wetness flow over his fingers, felt hot and damp and swollen as he slid his fingers inside to tease and arouse. His fingers reached deeply. She uttered a raw cry and climaxed violently, arching up against him.

She returned to reality slowly, dimly aware that they were both naked, and that Damian was stroking her breasts, his silver eyes aglow with anticipation. He kissed her open mouth, drawing in her small panting breaths as his clever hands began arousing her again.

“’Tis my turn, sweeting,” he murmured brokenly.

He settled himself into a comfortable position against the headboard and suspended her over his rigid arousal. Elissa felt the engorged tip nudge her opening and guided him inside.

Damian’s lashes drifted downward as Elissa’s tight sheath closed around him. Intense pleasure overwhelmed him as he thrust upward. He groaned. Paradise could never be as sweet, as perfect as this moment. His thoughts scattered as she melted around him, and suddenly he was desperately frantic, wildly rampant, for he felt like a cannon ready to explode.

“Hurry, sweeting,” he gasped harshly. “I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”

He opened his mouth and took one turgid nipple into his mouth, suckling her. He heard her breath quicken and felt his control slipping. He thrust upward, at the same time bringing her hips forcefully downward. She writhed and thrashed in a fierce fury and clung to him more tightly each time his engorged erection lunged inside her.

When he felt her stiffen and vibrate around him, he allowed his own climax to burst upon him. He continued to pump vigorously until he was utterly drained, totally spent. Then he slid down onto the mattress and held himself inside her. Elissa stirred and settled into his arms. He held her close while she slept, his mind churning restlessly.

What had just taken place between him and Elissa was an eruption of raw, unbridled desire. His hunger for Elissa was a wild, uncontrollable thing that shook him to the core. He’d always been a man who depended on his wits to survive. He’d been a loner most of his life, a ruthless soldier with neither kith nor kin. He had friends like Dickon, but not since he’d lost his father at Culloden and his mother years before that had anyone really cared about his welfare. Misterly gave him a sense of belonging, of finding the peace that had been lacking in his life.

As for Elissa, she made him human, changing him from the Demon Knight to a man. Lust was part of it, but what he felt for Elissa was more than that, and not nearly as simple to define. For his own preservation, he vowed to keep that elusive emotion at bay lest he lose everything he’d struggled so hard to achieve.

He couldn’t bear to lose Misterly. He already loved the land, and he’d even come to appreciate the dour, hardworking Highlanders. Lady Marianne was an exceptional woman who had survived the loss of loved ones, and little Lora was an adorable urchin who seemed to like him for himself. There were few people he could say that about.

He pulled Elissa closer and placed a kiss on her damp forehead. He admired her for so many things: her strength, her tenacity, her courage. He felt a stab of unaccustomed guilt for seducing her, but he didn’t regret it. Even though she had come to him, his seduction of her had begun the day he’d arrived at Misterly. He couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t wanted her.

His rationalization faltered when he realized her eyes were open and she was staring at him. He wanted to ask what she was thinking but lacked the courage. Lady Kimbra stood between them like a solid rock wall. Instead, he kissed and caressed and slowly aroused her again. When he slid atop her, she opened her legs in welcome.

Damian left Elissa’s bed soon after they’d made love a second time. She’d been half-asleep when he kissed her lightly on the lips and left the chamber. When he returned to the hall he was surprised to find Sir Brody, Dickon, Dermot, and Lachlan seated on benches before the hearth, talking in muted tones.

Dermot rose and hailed him. “A word with ye before ye seek yer bed, yer lordship.”

A prickling sensation crawled up Damian’s spine as he joined the men. Someone shoved a tankard of ale into his hand as he dropped down beside Dickon.

“What keeps you up so late?” Damian asked.

“We could ask ye the same thing,” Dermot replied. “What were ye doing in the solar at this hour?”

“I owe you no explanation, Dermot Fraser.”

“’Tis true, then,” Lachlan spat. “Ye’ve made the Maiden of Misterly yer mistress.”

“You wrong the lady,” Damian said harshly. “Elissa has never consented to become my mistress.”

“Yer intended bride sleeps in yonder tower,” Dermot pointed out. “Ye have no right to cast yer eyes upon our lass. She is promised to the Gordon chieftain.”

“No marriage between them will ever take place,” Damian maintained. “If any of your kinsmen are thinking of fleeing to the Gordon stronghold, I strongly advise against it. I prefer peace, but if need be, I’ll take action to destroy the Gordon clan if they become troublesome.”

“We Frasers are sick of war,” Dermot said, looking at Lachlan for confirmation. “But if ye continue to dishonor our lass, we will do what is best for our clan.”

“Aye,” Lachlan agreed. “We were willing to give ye a chance to better our lot, but we willna stand by while Elissa is being mistreated. Nor will we allow Lady Kimbra to disparage our home or our kinsmen. Think about it, yer lordship.”

On that note of warning, Lachlan and Dermot rose and strode away.

“They’re right, you know,” Dickon ventured.

“You, too, Dickon?”

“You’re setting yourself up for trouble, Damian. If you value Misterly and wish to keep it, leave Elissa alone.”

Damian noticed Sir Brody’s disapproving look and raised an eyebrow in his direction.

“Far be it from me to tell you what to do, my lord,” Sir Brody said, “but Lady Marianne is distressed about the situation beween you and her daughter.”

Damian’s hands balled into fists at his sides. “Don’t you think I know that? I can’t help myself, dammit! Something strange is happening. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.”