His Wild Highland Lass (9 page)

She smiled so broadly, he beamed in response, the crinkles beneath his dark brown eyes appearing, his eyes now nearly black, and his so-kissable mouth just begged for her to kiss him again.

"Aye."

"Tomorrow then," he said. "If Laird Montgomery and his party dinna leave right away, we will wed. He can take that news to Laird MacNeill himself."

"What if Laird MacNeill wishes to fight you?"

"He can either do that, or we can negotiate an agreement that would result in the same thing as I would have had with the Montgomery clan, should I have married Ita. Instead of an agreement with the Clan Montgomery, I will have one with the Clan MacNeill. Although I could do the same with the Barclay clan, since they are your true kin. And neither your uncle nor your brother by marriage will control your destiny any further."

Tears filled her eyes and she couldn't believe how weepy she became around Ronan.

"Ah lass, dinna fash so."

"You are no' doing this just to save me from marrying that young son of Montgomery, are you?"

He just smiled at her and shook his head. "I have wanted to do this since I first met you. I will return you to your chamber and tomorrow…"

"Nay." She tightened her arms around his neck, not about to let go, or lose this chance, or risk that he would change his mind in the morn, or that someone would try to change it for him.

He studied her, frowning a bit. "You dinna…"

"In the ancient way, I wish to wed you and I betroth my heart to you." She pulled his face down to hers then and began to kiss him, to show how much she needed his loving, not on the morrow, not after the wedding, but now.

"And I wed you, Sorcha of the Barclay clan, and pledge to love you always."

He kissed her right back. His warm mouth pressed against hers, until he poked his wicked tongue between her lips and began to stroke her inside. His arm slipped around her back to keep her pinned against his growing arousal, his free hand sweeping down her gown, then cupping her arse and pulling her sinfully closer.

She loved the feel of his body as he molded to her. The way she made him desire her, as much as she craved him. Her heart was thumping wildly as she loved the way his hands were touching her so intimately.

"Lass, are you sure dinna want to…"

"Nay." She pulled free then, snagged his hand, and drew him toward his bed, her gaze on his, willing him to agree.

When he frowned at her and didn't sweep her up and carry her off to his bed, she worried then that he didn't want to do this. That maybe he needed to think it over tonight. That maybe he had been too rash in his decision.

"You are no' changing your mind about us, are you?" She feared the worst and stopped abruptly. That he should take his clan's needs into consideration first. That he should see if Laird MacNeill or her Barclay family would even agree to her marriage to Ronan.

"You are no' saying you want to marry me just because you dinna want to leave, are you?" He sounded so serious that she couldn't believe it.

She smiled then, and wrapped her arms again about his neck, looked up into his dark eyes, and pressed her body against his. "You think that this isna real between us?"

He gave her a smug smile, then reached down to pull off her
léine
. As soon as he slipped it over her head, he began to caress her breasts through her light chemise, his thumbs stroking her nipples, and then his hands cupped her breasts in the most delightful way. She thought she was in heaven just from pressing her breasts against his chest! This was a thousand-fold more pleasurable, and her body was torn between melting into the rushes on the floor, and leaning into his exquisite touch. He pressed his mouth against hers as she skimmed her hands over his hard muscles, higher, until she could palm his nipples and feel them pebble to her touch.

He groaned against her lips, and she loved the sound of his raw, male need. She reached down to tug off his belt, the notion she would be performing such a tantalizing action so new for her. And with him. He smiled roguishly back and her heart did a little skip.

He quickly divested himself of his belt and plaid. He paused, running his hands down her arms in a gentle caress, waiting for her to agree to this one last time, as if removing her chemise would be her last defense.

When it was not. Her dirk was still secure in its sheath belted at her thigh. She would not have worn it if she had known she would be doing this with Ronan. But she always wore it everywhere, just in case someone decided to give her trouble.

Now, she worried what Ronan would think, when she had come to his chamber armed. Yet, who knew the kind of trouble she might run into between her own chamber and his?

He pulled her chemise up over her head and exposed the dagger strapped to her thigh. He peered down at her body, while she was giving his glorious muscles and staff a considering look. But then she saw him grinning, his gaze focused on her dirk.

He knelt and unfastened the sheath from around her leg, then tossed the weapon on top of her clothes. He ran his hands all the way up her thighs until he reached between them, stroking just once, startling her. Pleasing her. Making her want to beg for more.

He lifted her into his arms and carried her to bed. "No more chances to change your mind."

"Aye, and you, neither."

He chuckled at that as if she had to be jesting that he'd ever consider doing such.

Before she knew it, she was resting in his huge bed, so much larger than her own, the mattress soft and cushiony and smelling of him—of heather and pine, leather and man. For a moment, his gaze traveled from her face to her body, which made her feel exposed and desired all at once. She took the opportunity to enjoy the way he looked, his staff jutting proudly from a bed of dark curls, his toned muscles ready for action, right before he moved toward her. She redirected her attention to his face.

He was smiling at her, but in a hungry kind of way, and she loved him for it. She was thankful when he joined her on the bed and kissed her again, his hand grazing over her breasts in such a light manner, almost tickling her if it hadn't been that they were so sensitive and aroused by his touch. She felt her nether region moistening, and tingling with heat, and that same ache she'd felt when he'd rested on her in the leaves in the woods, and again, when he'd pressed her tight against his body, traveling to his keep.

And when he'd kissed her earlier that morn on his horse.

She loved the way he kissed her, hotly, passionately, and she loved kissing him just as eagerly back. She ran her hands over the delightful feel of his smooth arm muscles, except for a couple of rough scars, probably from training or battle, when he slid his fingers down her belly toward the center of her, down until he dipped his finger inside her, making her cry out in shock and pleasure.

Then he stroked her in such a way that she felt she would come apart under his touch, the sweet agony filling her with burning desire.

"Uh." She arched against his fingers, wanting something she couldn't begin to define, just an indescribable, urgent need she had to satisfy.

Seeming to know just what she longed for, he continued to stroke her, giving her pleasure she'd never known before, and she loved him for it. She gripped his hips, and felt a tidal wave of pleasure sweeping her away, lifting her up, and dropping her back down on the feather mattress under the hot Highlander's gaze.

He slid a finger into her, deeper, and she tightened at the exquisite intrusion.

"Are you ready for me, lass?"

She nodded.

"You know…"

"Aye, aye." She seized his arms and pulled him toward her. "I have an older sister and she has told me all."

Not that Akira had told her everything of her own free will. Sorcha had wanted to know the truth and would not cease asking until she learned the whole of it.

"Dinna tense on me, sweeting," he said, and then he eased into her until he could go no further.

Then he thrust until he was deep inside her. She loved the way he made love to her as she ran her hands over his back and buttocks. She was amazed at his strength and yet tenderness, adoring that he was making her his, giving her a home. She would cherish him always, giving him what he wished also.

Ronan loved his impetuous, bonny lass. Being with her like this was just as he had expected. Passionate, expressive, eager to please and she loved his pleasuring her.

He'd envisioned making love to her, but imagining and actually experiencing were two different beasties. He couldn't conceive of anything greater than smelling her sweet lavender scent and all woman, the way she molded to his body as if they were meant to be together, the softness of her skin, and her touch. Even the way her darkened green eyes took him in, unabashedly intrigued, made him more desirous of claiming her for his own.

He thrust into her, eager to see her carrying his bairn, and knowing she was his, that she was part of the clan, now and forever, and no one would take that away.

He held on, wanting to treasure this first joining as long as he could, but for their first few times, he wanted her to enjoy every bit of the experience, and allowed himself to let go, to take delight in the release, to cherish holding her close the night through, and every night after that.

"Let me wash you." He hoped she was not too uncomfortable.

She touched his cheek and smiled up at him. "I love you."

"Aye, lass, and I love you," he said, feeling it with all his heart. "My people, our people, will be celebrating our union for days."

"'Tis good they have accepted me."

"More than accepted. My sister thinks of you as her sister."

"And I feel the same way toward her."

They left the bed and he washed her, careful to set the cloth aside for later, and then using another cloth he cleaned himself. Before they returned to bed, he noticed blood on the sheet. "Let me wash that out and…"

"Nay." She jerked the sheet off the bed and tossed it on the floor. "Proof we have consummated the marriage."

He smiled at her, thinking to use the cloth he'd wiped her down with and so carefully set aside. The whole sheet?

Naked and beautiful, she returned to bed, the blanket resting between the mattress and her body as she waited for him to join her.

"You dinna expect me to take the whole sheet down to show to the Daziel clan, do you?" He smiled when he said it, assuming she didn't, but he would have the proof just in case.

"If you willna, I will."

He laughed and joined her in the bed, jerking the curtains closed, then settled down and took her into his arms.

"Have we done the right thing?" she asked softly, her warm breath fanning his bare chest. "What if Laird MacNeill isna happy with us marrying? What if your clan is drawn into a fight and…"

"Shhh, sleep. There will be time enough to deal with other matters. For now, I wish to hold you close and thank God I found you before the MacNeill clansmen did."

She sighed, then settling more comfortably against him, she grew quiet. For a long time, he stroked her silky hair, loving how it draped across his chest as if she claimed him, too.

A loud knocking on the chamber door startled both of them. He hurried to leave the bed and shut the curtains. Grabbing his sword, he headed for the door.

"'Tis me," Ward said, his voice dark with concern as Sorcha slipped out of Ronan's bed and was about to dress if trouble was brewing below stairs with the Montgomery party. She couldn't imagine any other reason for Ward to sound so worried and come banging on Ronan's door.

"The lass is missing, Ronan. I came to tell you first, before we sent out search parties. The portcullis is down, the gates locked. Her horse is in the stable, and we have checked with Elspeth, but she hasna seen the lass since Sorcha trained the women."

Sorcha couldn't believe she was the reason for the concern. She didn't think anyone would have noticed she was missing from her chamber, not with the door shut and when she'd planned to retire to bed.

Bare naked, Ronan opened the door. "No need to search for her, as we have agreed to be husband and wife. We are abed and wish no further disturbance unless the Montgomery clansmen decide to make trouble of one kind or another."

Sorcha climbed back into bed and pulled the blankets around her, wondering just how Ward was reacting to the news. He was so deathly quiet, she feared he thought it was all a dangerous mistake and the clan would suffer for it.

Then very quietly Ward said, "You have truly taken her to wife?"

"Aye, you knew I would."

Ward let out his breath on a heavy, relieved-sounding sigh. "Is she asleep? I apologize for disturbing you both. Can we share the good news?"

"He can take the sheet with him when he goes," Sorcha called out, settling down to sleep, hoping Ronan would close the door and come back to bed and hold her close the night through.

"We will see you in the morn to break our fast and I will wed the lass."

"And the Montgomery chief?"

"Devil take him. After how he treated her, I will deal with Laird MacNeill in my own good time. If Laird Montgomery chooses to send word that Sorcha is here, so be it."