King of the Isles (16 page)
Authors: Debbie Mazzuca
His gaze went to the stars twinkling in a sky as dark as Evangeline’s hair, and he blew out a defeated breath. His grand hopes for a passion-filled night faded as fast as the falling star that streaked across the night sky.
Chapter 14
Evangeline couldn’t wait to put the land of ice and snow behind her. If she added one more layer of fur to her shivering frame, it would be impossible to remain upright. Without the comfort of Lachlan’s warmth last eve—no matter the blazing fire or mountain of blankets—she was chilled to the very marrow of her being. She had expected the ball of fury that burned inside her—at the knowledge he could transport himself while she could not, the evidence he’d indeed been responsible for her failure to rescue Uscias, the reason she now found herself wed to the man prowling toward her—to keep her warm. It had not.
Sometime in the middle of the night her anger had dissipated, leaving her cold and ... lonely. In both instances, she had been the one who offered her blood—willingly. More than willingly the second time, she grimly acknowledged, remembering how she’d ached to feel his hard warrior’s body pressed to hers. To feel his warm lips demanding and possessive on hers, his powerful hands ... The heated flush accompanying the memories was as welcome as much as the evidence of her stupidity was not. She should’ve known better. Now that she did, there would be no more sharing of her blood.
As for sharing the comfort and warmth of his body, well ... She started ... stunned. Did she truly think to give herself to him completely? Sharing a kiss and the warmth of his embrace was one thing, but to surrender to him fully? No, surely the icy fingers of the cold had wrapped themselves around her mind to squeeze out her good sense. Their marriage would not be like that of Syrena and Aidan, or Aileanna and Rory. Evangeline’s and Lachlan’s served a higher purpose.
Lachlan crouched in front of her to peer up at her. “Ah, so it is ye under there. Cold, are ye?” He grinned when she chattered her reply. Coming to his feet, he tipped her chin with his gloved hand, forcing her gaze to his. “Mayhap ’twill make ye think twice next time ye decide to deny yer husband his rightful place beside ye.” He stroked his knuckles along the curve of her cheek. “I ken ye were fashed I had yer magick, Evie, but ye ken well enough ’twas no’ apurpose.”
She did, but the vivid memory of her helplessness kept her from uttering an apology. “It might not have been intentional, but the consequences were the same. I failed to rescue Uscias and—”
“But thanks to yer magick I was invincible on the battlefield, and in the end it all worked out.”
Evangeline didn’t like the prideful gleam in his eyes when he spoke of the prowess her powers had awarded him in battle. But for a man with only the magick of his sword to depend on, she could well imagine how intoxicating her power must have been. “Have you forgotten it only worked out because Gabriel agreed to marry Jorunn and—”
“And I agreed to marry ye. Nay, I havena forgotten,” he interrupted her.
“You did not agree to marry me! I agreed to marry you!” Truly, he was the most arrogant man she’d ever had the misfortune to meet.
He waved his hand as if it was of no consequence. “Come, Gabriel and Jorunn have arrived.”
She glanced over her shoulder to see a weary-looking Gabriel helping his weeping wife onto her horse.
“Better him than me,” Lachlan muttered under his breath with a grimace before tugging none too gently on her hand.
Evangeline dug in her heels, but was no match for his strength. Snow sprayed up her legs at her futile attempt to halt her forward motion. “I think I shall transport myself to the Isles,” she said in a fit of pique.
Coming to an abrupt halt, he turned to look at her. “Yer magick is back, then?”
She couldn’t help but note his disappointment. “Yes. I practiced earlier, and everything has returned to normal.”
With an abrupt nod, he said, “Good. But ye’ll be ridin’ with me. We have much to discuss.”
He strode toward his steed, dragging her behind him. Tired of his overbearing manner, she once more dug in her heels. Without looking at her, he released her hand. “Are ye breakin’ yer vows already?”
She stalked after him. He was right. They had much to talk about, and the first item on the agenda was the vow he’d just made mention of. She’d only agreed during the ceremony so as not to embarrass him in front of his subjects. The last thing she wished to do was to diminish his standing in their eyes. That would not aid in her plan to keep the Fae safe.
He lifted her easily onto the horse. Then eyeing her bulky layers, he flicked his finger. With a disgruntled sigh, he said, “Ye’d best remove a cloak or two or there will no’ be enough room fer me.”
Evangeline blinked. “Did you just try to use magick on me?”
“Nay,” he said in a querulous tone, mounting behind her once she’d done as he asked.
She knew very well he had and cast a sympathetic gaze at the hard set of his mouth. “I’m sorry, Lachlan. Perhaps it would have been best for you not to know what you were missing.” She gave a reassuring pat to the arm he wrapped around her.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you,” she said with a smile. And she would. Not only because of her vow to protect the Fae, but as his wife it was her duty. Releasing a contented sigh, she snuggled against him for warmth. It felt wonderful to have her powers back, to be in control once again.
“As my wife, there’s a few things we need to get straight. First ... I doona need yer protection, I’m no’ a bairn. Second—”
She stiffened, looking back at his unsmiling face. “But I—”
He placed a finger to her lips. “Nay, ye will listen to me, Evangeline. I willna have ye underminin’ me before the Fae. Nor tellin’ me how to govern the Isles. No disagreein’ with my edicts, and I doona wish to hear yer opinion unless I ask fer it.”
She gasped. “You can’t be serious. If you didn’t wish for my assistance, why did you tell Magnus we were betrothed?”
He snorted. “Ye ken as well as I do why I did. I didna want to see ye wed to Magnus. Mayhap I spoke out of turn and ye woulda preferred him to me.”
Her stomach roiled at his suggestion and she shook her head. “I didna think so,” he said in a supercilious tone. “Now, mayhap I should tell ye what I do want from ye.”
She jolted when he bent his head, his heated breath warming her ear. “To begin with, I want ye in my bed.” His palm splayed her belly beneath the furs, and she was certain he would feel the wild fluttering his words elicited. “Slow, Evie, I’ll take it slow. I ken ye’re innocent,” he murmured, trailing his lips down her neck.
Innocent? Thank the Fae he thought so. He would not demand more than she was willing to give, at least not yet. Relieved by the reprieve, she took a moment to realize he was continuing to speak. To rattle off a long list of her wifely duties.
“... see to the servants and the runnin’ of the palace. To the meals and the plannin’ of the celebrations ...”
“I don’t have time for that sort of thing,” she scoffed. “Your security has to be reevaluated and I have to continue to study and hone my magickal skills, not to mention attend the Seelie Court.”
He guffawed. “I have firsthand knowledge of yer magickal skills and I can tell ye, ye doona need anymore. As to the Seelie Court, my attendance is required, no’ yers.”
“Now listen here. I ...” Her words disappeared in a dismayed shriek as, in her need to confront him, she sent herself tumbling from the steed.
She gave a grunt of pain when he caught hold of her arm and jerked her up and over the horse and onto his lap. “Ye have to get hold of that temper of yers, lass. Like obeyin’ me, ’tis just one more thing ye must learn.”
She struggled to break free of him while clutching his rock-hard thigh for fear of falling off again. Managing to situate herself more comfortably, she said. “You can’t seriously believe I—”
As if she was nothing more than a child, he yanked her up and into his arms. “Ye’re wrong, Evie. I seriously do believe ye’ll obey me. In fact, I demand that ye do.”
“Demand? You think—” He silenced her sputtered protest with a possessive, mind-numbing kiss.
Lachlan wanted nothing more than to show his bonny wife exactly what he wanted from her. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, smoothing her tangled mane from her face. The back of a steed with an attentive audience was not the place to initiate a maiden in the joys of lovemaking. If she had allowed him within ten feet of her after he’d transported them to the caves last eve, he had no doubt she would now be his wife in more than name only. Instead, she’d consigned them both to a sleepless night in a cold, damp cave. He had full confidence in his powers of seduction, knew if he could have but gotten her into his arms he would have soothed her pique, but her threat to turn him into a toad had won out over his lust.
He didn’t blame her for being upset, for hurling her virulent accusations at him. He knew her anger came from fear. She was terrified without her magick—terrified at her inability to control everything and everyone around her. A pang of guilt twigged his conscience at what he planned, but in the end it was for her own good, and theirs. If they were to make their marriage work, she had to learn to trust and depend on him. The only way he could think to make that happen was to limit her ability to control everything, most especially him.
“Doona worry, Evie,” he said as he curved his arm around her. “It willna be so bad.”
“Yes, it will, if you continue to treat me as if I’m little more than your chattel,” she groused.
“Is that how ye see us? I was thinkin’ more like king and minion.” He laughed when she turned to glare at him. “Nay, I think we can manage to be friends at the very least.” He was surprised to find he meant what he said. Other than Broderick, Gabriel, and his uncle, all of whom he didn’t see often, there was only Uscias who he was close to in the Fae realm. He grew tired of the petty machinations of court life. It would be good to have an ally, someone he could trust.
“Friend?” She searched his face, then nodded. “Yes, I would like that.”
His chest tightened at the shy vulnerability in her expression. She would be mortified if she knew she’d revealed it to him. Aye, his wife, for all her magickal powers, needed an ally amongst the Fae. Someone who would not judge her on account of her mother, someone she could let down her guard with.
“Lachlan?”
“Aye, Evangeline.” Certain he knew what she was about to ask, he couldn’t keep the amusement from his voice.
“Are you laughing at me?”
“Nay, tell me what it is ye want to ask.”
“While I agree friendship is conducive to a good marriage, and a good marriage is what we shall aspire to ...”
“Mm-hmm.”
She narrowed her gaze on him.
“I was just agreein’ with you. Continue.”
“I think we should look at our marriage as a ... partnership. A full partnership—an
equal
partnership.”
equal
partnership.”
He rubbed his hand over his mouth to hide his grin. “’Tis an interestin’ notion. I shall give—” He grunted when she elbowed him in the belly. “What was that fer?”
“You were laughing at me.”
“Nay. I was laughin’ at how predictable ye are. We are newly wed, Evangeline, give it some time.”
“You do trust me, though, don’t you?”
He knew his answer was important to her. Her father and the Fae had scarred her as deeply as Alexander, Ursula, and Lamont had scarred him. “Aye, I do.” It was true. To his knowledge she had never deliberately hurt anyone, although she’d been a pain in his arse on a regular basis.
“Thank you.” She smiled up at him. “I promise I will make you a good wife and the Fae of the Enchanted Isles a good queen.”
He tapped her nose. “Aye, I ken ye will. A good and obedient wife,” he teased in hopes of getting a rise out of her. He needed a diversion to relieve the pressure building in his chest, a pressure brought on by her sweet smile and fervent promise.
“Just as I know you’ll make a good and obedient husband, Lachlan.”
Damn, her attempt at a lighthearted response would have eased the gnawing ache if not for the dewy softness in her eyes. In desperate need of a distraction, he searched the clutch of warriors riding ahead of them. “So, do ye think Broderick is any closer to gettin’ Fallyn to wed him?”
She followed his gaze to where the Welsh king attempted to insert himself between Fallyn and her sisters. She sighed. “No. He’s hopeless.”
“Aye, Gabriel and I have been tryin’ to instruct him on the art of wooin’, but he’s no’ listenin’ verra well. Although I thought he might have a chance yesterday.”
“Perhaps that is the problem. I highly doubt you or King Gabriel have ever had to court a woman.”
“Wooin’ a woman to bed her and wooin’ a woman to wed her are no’ so verra different.”
She gave him a pointed look.
“ ’Tis no’ like we wouldna ken how, if we had to, but we didna.”
“Obviously.”
He rubbed his chest where the dull ache had returned. “Are ye sayin’ ye wish me to woo ye?”
“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think, seeing as we’re already wed?”
Aye, he did, and he wasn’t about to bring up the fact he’d yet to take her to his bed. For all she said she didn’t expect to be wooed, he wasna completely daft when it came to women. She wanted to be wooed. Were ye no’ supposed to be in love to woo a woman? They were no’ in love, they were ... friends. Why in the bloody hell did he think to distract her with Broderick and Fallyn?
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