Legacy of the Mist Clans Box Set (105 page)

“I was just going tae ask if ye’d mind if I took in some mending tae earn a bit of extra coin.”

The air fled his lungs with such force she might as well have been a fully trained knight who had just punched him in the gut.

“Ye want tae do what?” Surely he had heard her incorrectly.

The blush on her cheeks grew brighter, and she finally lifted her gaze to meet his. His pulse thrummed through is body making it even more difficult to catch his breath.

“I ken ye work hard, and I want tae do my part. Mending isna difficult, and I can earn good coin doing it.”

A tremor passed through him, and his thoughts from only a few moments ago mocked him. Was she wanting to do this because she feared he would forget his word and abandon her? Surely he had proven himself by now. Then he realized he had fallen short of her expectations. All that he had done wasn’t enough.

He quickly tried to rein in the errant thought, but it escaped him and grew in strength. He shook his head. “Ye will do no such thing,” he growled.

She looked at him a long moment, her eyes liquid. “Connell, it willna be much. I’ll still be able tae do everything I’m doing now—”

“I said nay,” he snapped and rose from the divan, pacing the floor.

“Forgive me, I dinna mean tae anger ye. But I thought a bit of extra coin would—”

“If ye need more coin for the market, all ye need tae do is ask.” He spun and glared at her.

“Oh nay, ye give me plenty for the market. It’s not—”

“Then what be the problem?”

Her face suddenly turned bright red, and she could no longer meet his gaze.

Suspicion jumped powerfully within him, but his body was still painfully attuned to her, and every gesture, every nuance of her expression he noticed with almost perfect clarity. That mixed with his anger, and his heart raced as if he was preparing himself to go into battle against the mercenaries who had stalked them.

“If ye need more coin, just ask me.”

“I dinna wish tae ask ye when I can earn my own.”

“Nay,” he snapped. “Ye just spoke of how we appear tae others here. Would ye have everyone believe I canna provide for my family?”

She looked at him in surprise, as if she hadn’t considered that possibility, but then she lifted her chin. “’Tis not that drastic. I willna be working my fingers tae the bone. I just want tae do this for a short time.”

“Why?”

Again her gaze dropped to the floor, and she refused to answer.

“Why do ye want the coin, Mairi? Has some bauble caught yer eye and ye are embarrassed tae ask?”

Her head shot up. Her face was red again, but this time it was anger. “It be no bauble!”

His anger levered upward. “Then why will ye no’ answer my question?”

She leapt to her feet, her fists clenched. “Because I canna win an argument with something as dense as a wall. I’ll just take in the mending anyway whether you like it or no’.”

“Ye canna do that.”

“I can and I will.”

“I forbid it, Mairi. I am yer—” Abruptly, he snapped his jaw shut. Holy hell, had he truly almost said . . .

“My husband?” she finished for him. She folded her arms over her chest and arched an eyebrow. “Was that what ye were going tae say?”

He gritted his teeth and glared at her. But no matter how angry and frustrated he was, he still couldn’t stop himself from admiring her. He had never seen her so furious before. The emotion brought a soft color to her cheeks that seemed to accent the graceful lines of her face. Her dark eyes sparkled in the light of the hearth fire, adding a vibrant counter to the meek and timid lassie he had first met, the one who always ran, who couldn’t find her faith in anyone. She was infuriated with him, but he saw a fire coming to life within her that he had no idea she possessed.

He tried to gulp air into his lungs so he could think, but watching her sent his thoughts flying. She was built like a willow, her limbs long and delicate. The braid she wore her mahogany hair in was as thick as wrist and soft and silky to the touch. Her eyes matched her hair with an amazing variety of color in their depths—brown with flecks of green and gold that could only be seen if one took the time to acknowledge them. Her skin was like the fair petals of a rose.

Watching her pace before him was like watching a vision. Unlike Ina, who had been as thin as a stick even after giving birth to William, Mairi had elegant curves in all the right places. Yet her waist was still so narrow he could span it with his hands.

He shook his head, trying to recapture his thoughts. He forced himself to turn away just so he could keep his head straight.

“Mairi,” he tried again after a moment. “Why can ye no’ just tell me what ye need it for?”

“Why can ye no’ just let me take in the mending?”

“I answered that question, but ye havena answered mine.”

“Ohhhh!” She clenched her fists and stormed into the bedroom.

Connell’s jaw tightened and he followed her, his gaze immediately falling on the cradle in the room. A terrible memory rose, and his stomach knotted painfully.

“I dinna ken why ye have tae be so stubborn about this.”

“I will no’ argue with ye in here. My answer is nay, and that be final.”

She spun to face him again and took a step toward the bed. She was still looking at him, but her hand started to reach out behind her. Connell glanced at the bedside table and looked twice as something caught his eye. Bloody hell! Not a vase like he half expected to see, but one of his daggers. He took an involuntary step backward as her hand seized the first thing it encountered to throw at him.

His pillow sailed through the air straight for his head.

He blinked once, twice, and plucked it out of the air before it hit him.

“Ye be lucky I dinna have any eggs,” she muttered.

His mind struggled to keep up with this turn of events. His dagger was still on the bedside table. Too late, Connell realized she was still moving and already had another pillow in hand. This one also sailed through the air, but he was unable to react in time, and it smacked him in the head.

A chuckle rumbled through him.

“What’s the great jest?”

“I half expected ye tae throw something a bit more intimidating at me.” He looked pointedly at the dagger. She followed his gaze, then her face rapidly turned pale. “Oh nay,” she said, suddenly horrified. “I’d ne’er do such a thing. I dinna wish tae hurt ye. Pillows and eggs are the limit of my arsenal.”

He sighed softly, his anger easing a bit. “That be good tae ken. But if ye dinna wish tae hurt me, then why do ye insist on bringing in mending?”

She clamped her jaw shut and glared at him defiantly.

Why did she refuse to answer his question? Connell’s shoulders sagged in defeat. He feared he knew the answer. “I am sorry I canna give ye the life ye deserve. I ken it must be frustrating tae not be able tae afford nice things.”

“Will ye cease?” she snapped, and he looked at her, startled. “That isna why I want tae do this.”

“Then why?”

She snarled under her breath. “Bloody hell! All right, I’ll tell ye. I wanted tae buy ye a Christmas present, ye hardheaded lout.”

Connell stared at her. He realized his jaw was hanging open and snapped it shut. “Christmas? Ye dinna have tae get me a Christmas gift.”

She looked up at the ceiling as if seeking patience. “Just give me the pillows back so I can throw them at ye again. Of course, I dinna
have
tae get ye a gift . . . that be the entire point. I
wanted
tae give ye one.”

“That be it? Just Christmas?”

“Ye try the patience of Job. Aye . . . Christmas, ye barmy fool! And I’ll be damned if I use yer money tae buy it for ye.”

That was all? Christmas? It wasn’t because she was unhappy with their meager life?

Christmas, ye idiot. Now get yer head out of yer arse.

The relief that washed through him was so great it nearly buckled his knees. His anger fled completely, and he felt a smile tugging at his lips. His gaze returned to her. She was so angry with him her cheeks were still stained red, and he saw her pulse fluttering in her neck. Damnation, she was beautiful. He hated arguing, but the fire he saw in her ignited the same within him. He felt his smile growing.

His amusement made her even angrier. She marched up to him, yanked the pillow out of his hand, and smacked him with it.

Connell couldn’t help himself. He started laughing.

“Ohhhh!” She threw her hands up and tossed the pillow over her shoulder.

Her actions made his loss of control worse. He laughed so hard he had to lean against the door frame. Tears blurred his eyes, and he struggled to breathe.

She moved to grab the second pillow.

“Peace!” he gasped, holding up his hand, but his laughter renewed and he couldn’t speak.

She hesitated, gazing at him as if he had lost his mind. The way he was laughing, he was certain he had.

A soft giggle escaped her. She was trying valiantly to maintain her anger, but her smile kept breaking through, and she giggled again.

The sound only renewed Connell’s fit. Dear God in heaven, he couldn’t breathe.

“Connell MacGrigor, what’s gotten into ye?”

His laughter gradually eased, but he continued to chuckle. At last able to breathe again, he wiped the tears from his eyes then straightened and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her firmly against him.

“Forgive me,” he said again. “I shouldna have lost my temper.”

She dropped the pillow and wrapped her arms around his neck, her anger vanishing completely. “I just wanted tae surprise ye. I got mad because ye wouldn’t leave it alone. But even though ye try my patience sometimes, ye deserve something nice. Ye work hard and have done so much. Ye dinna owe anything tae us, but ye do it anyway.”

His smile never faded as he cupped her cheek in his hand. “I want tae do these things for ye.”

“Now, ye ken why I want tae get a present for ye.”

He studied her a long moment. She was right, he did understand now, and he was sorry to have argued with her. Although he had to admit it was the first time he had been a part of a furious argument that had ended in laughter—and it most certainly was the first time an argument had provoked his desire so intensely, and it was growing stronger. Even though her anger had faded, the fire that he witnessed come alive in her was still there, still burning brightly, and she was still so very beautiful. He marveled at the changes in her.

“And what else do ye want, Mairi?” If she was determined to get him a gift, he’d best get her one too.

“What do I want?” she asked suspiciously.

“Tell me true. I ken ye’d enjoy something nice.”

“Ye be serious? Ye really wish tae ken what I want?”

“Aye. I dinna ken if I can get it for ye for Christmas, but I will try.”

She shook her head, her expression almost sad for a moment. “Ye truly have no idea, do ye?” This time she cupped his cheek in her hand, her gaze searching his. “I want ye, Connell MacGrigor, and dinna dare make me wait until Christmas.”

“Grief and loss can overwhelm ye, but there be something greater on the other side of that coin . . . if ye have the courage tae turn it over.”

~
Connell MacGrigor

M
airi braced herself, her heart racing in fear. She had finally summoned the courage to make her desire known with about as much subtlety as a charging destrier. She gazed up at Connell. His sapphire eyes were still stormy from their argument. But witnessing him lose himself to such an outrageous fit of laughter had been joyous to see.

Now she feared she had just ruined everything.

Connell didn’t move; he didn’t say a word. He only stared at her with those blue, blue eyes. She bit her lip, wishing he’d say something, anything. Even another laughing fit would be more welcome than looking up at the silent, unmoving mountain he had suddenly become.

She sensed rather than saw his shoulders begin to relax. It was so slight she couldn’t truly define any movement, but it was there. He swallowed hard, his throat muscles working, and his jaw seemed unusually tight.

Please
dinna walk away this time. No more interruptions, no more distractions. I have tae ken where ye stand, Connell, or I will indeed go mad.

There was a warmth in his gaze that she noticed had been growing stronger since they arrived in Edinburgh. He cared for her, that much was obvious, but she needed to know if there was any hope. Was there a chance for something more?

He slowly released a pent-up breath and searched her gaze as if waiting for her to change her mind. For a moment, his expression grew so troubled she was certain he was going to walk away again. Sorrow rose within her, and she started to duck her head, knowing she had just made an absolute fool of herself by speaking her mind.

Connell’s finger gently caught her chin and stopped her. “Mairi, look at me.” His fingers gently tugged until she once again looked up, then both hands cradled her face, his fingers weaving through her hair. “Are ye sure?” he asked, his voice a bare whisper. She felt his fingers trembling against her skin. “Are ye sure this is what ye want?” She took a breath, but he shook his head and stopped her. “Mairi, I need tae ken ye be certain . . . once I turn tae that road . . . I willna be able tae go back. I willna be able tae return things tae the way they once were between us.”

“I’ve ne’er been so certain of anything in my life.”

He said nothing more. She knew what she wanted but could also understand his hesitation. She too enjoyed how close their relationship had become and didn’t want to jeopardize that. But her instincts told her there was a potential for far more. That was what she truly wanted. Her thoughts desperately tried to find the right words to reassure Connell, but she was growing more and more rattled, and he made no effort to fill the silence, still gazing at her intensely. What if he still saw her as the frightened mouse who was terrified of her own shadow, who could barely take care of a bairn, who didn’t trust him enough to stay at his side when threats arose, who always ran away from him, and who had a talent for placing him in even greater danger?

“Forgive me,” she said, her voice suddenly tremulous.

His expression eased a bit as he studied her. His fingers traced gently through her hair, but he still didn’t speak.

Mairi tried again. “But I . . .”

“Nay,” he murmured. “Dinna fret, lassie.”

“But . . .”

“Mairi, peace.”

She shook her head, her determination wavering. She needed an answer, but she was terrified of what it would be. “I . . . need tae know where ye stand. I—”

“Lassie—”

“I . . . should have minded my words. No doubt ye are suffering a fool after what I—”

“Mairi,” he said firmly. Then his lips lifted and he shook his head. “I suffer only a lass who needs tae be silent so she can be thoroughly kissed.”

Before her racing thoughts could truly grasp his words, Connell lowered his head and captured her mouth.

In that instant, she realized he had restrained himself fiercely in the past.

He dizzied her senses as his mouth fully claimed hers. Connell pulled her tight against the hard wall of his body. His strong hands traveled across her back, his long fingers splaying outward. His touch made her skin feel as if it were on fire under her clothing. His strength that surrounded her was undeniable, but so was his gentleness.

Mairi wrapped her arms around his neck and allowed his kiss to sweep her away. Their tongues tangled, and she suddenly understood what he meant when he said their relationship would never go back to where it was before. He was no longer hesitant or uncertain. As of this moment, he no longer had one foot stuck in his past. He entered the present as powerfully as a force of nature, sweeping Mairi up and carrying her with him.

His kiss was strong and confident, possessive and demanding; it was passionate and primitive . . . but it was also gentle and tender, conveying the deep emotion he had hidden away for so long—as if he rejoiced in the change.

She realized the gentle hands caressing her were actually loosening the laces of her dress at her sides. Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs as her overdress suddenly slipped to the floor, leaving her wearing only her chemise. Connell’s hands slid to her waist, then he abruptly ended their kiss, stepping back slightly. She tried to catch her breath, but seeing the change within Connell only stole it away again.

She had always thought him handsome, but now his stormy blue eyes were vibrant with emotion. His blond hair tumbled around his shoulders, the soft locks accenting the clean, elegant lines of his face. She drank in the sight of him and wondered how could she
not
fall in love with this man?

He gazed down at her as his fingers tugged at the string holding her chemise closed just below her throat. It untied immediately, but he didn’t pull the garment down. His left hand cupped her breast while the fingers of his right hand continued to pull at the string he had loosed and slowly lowered the edge until he exposed the top of her breast. Her heart was pounding so wildly now she was certain he could feel it. She knew she should be doing something, but she couldn’t move.

He pushed the edge of her chemise even lower, but just before he exposed her breast completely, he stopped. His fingers lightly traveled back up, sending delightful shivers over her skin. Still, she fought a sudden battle within herself not to rip off her own clothing. She was done waiting. But as his fingers continued to travel an evocative path up to her throat, she decided that he was actually doing a wonderful job of removing her clothing, so she had better start to work on his.

Connell’s fingers traveled all the way back up from her throat, across her cheek, then up to her hair where he caught her head and held her in place for another kiss. Her hands found his belt, and her fingers freed it. At last she was able to slide her hands under his tunic and allow them to skim slowly up the rock-hard muscle of his stomach and chest, exploring every cut and curve in amazing detail. She felt his body tighten even more under her touch, and Connell’s kiss intensified.

He slid his lips down her throat, nibbling softly, his teeth occasionally lightly raking her skin. She heard him desperately trying to suck in some air, but with a growl, he suddenly backed away and hauled his tunic off over his head. Then he firmly gripped her hands and placed them on his chest. “Let nothing stand in yer way,” he said, his voice guttural, “for I willna either.” He caught the edge of her chemise that he had tugged so low and freed her breast completely. He lowered his head and drew it into his mouth, his tongue swirling around her nipple, which tightened instantly. She gasped at the heat that shot through her.

His hands continued to caress her but with greater urgency. While he feasted on one breast, his fingers pulled her chemise away from the other, and the garment finally slid down her body to puddle on the floor at her feet. His fingers toyed with her breast while he continued to draw the other deeply into his mouth.

Unable to think, only conscious of the brilliant sensations he ignited within her, Mairi’s fingers found the laces of his leggings and worked them loose. She widened the opening at his waist and slid her hands inside, moving closer to her goal.

Connell shivered and lifted his head. His left hand caught the back of her head, his fingers weaving through her hair, and he firmly held her in place. His right hand fondled her breast as he gazed down at her. “What shall it be?” he asked, his voice so soft and low she could barely understand him through her desire. “Slow and gradual?” His fingers toyed with her nipple. “Or something ye might no’ expect? Do ye like surprises, Mairi?”

Without warning, his fingers slid between her legs and over her folds. He didn’t hesitate but instantly found her nub and pressed his fingers firmly against it.

She gasped at the firestorm that he unleashed within her. She had no control over her instantaneous response, and her knees almost buckled. She clung to him, but her legs would no longer support her. As she battled to drag in a breath, a low moan escaped her.

“I do believe I have my answer.” His fingers began to stroke her in a steady, even rhythm.

“Connell,” she gasped. She thought she had experienced pleasure before, but never had she felt anything so intensely with just a simple touch. She thought she had known what to expect, but nothing had prepared her for this. Now that he had made his decision, he was a different man, and all Mairi could think of was that she didn’t want him to stop.

HHH

As intense as their argument had been, as bright as the fire he had witnessed strengthening so beautifully in her, Connell did not think it possible he could provoke a more powerful response in her. But he had, and right now just watching her lose herself to just his touch almost pushed him over the edge. Somehow he maintained control, but damnation, he was hard and aching. Connell marveled at himself. Never before had he wanted to make love to a woman so powerfully. Watching Mairi with her head flung back, her arms desperately holding on to him, he realized she wasn’t self-conscious in the least. She didn’t try to hide herself; instead, she opened to him, and the instinctive movement of her hips against his hand told him all he needed to know. She wanted everything he could give her, and Connell was not about to disappoint her.

He felt her nub growing harder and her folds slicker as he gently prodded her to greater heights. Her soft gasps for air became tiny moans interspersed with whispers of his name. She depended on him completely to remain standing, so he gently backed her up to the bed and slowly eased her down so that her hips were close to the edge, her feet barely touching the floor. Now he had perfect access and a beautiful view of what he was doing to her. God, he had to get out of the rest of his clothing, but he didn’t want to stop.

Mairi clutched at the bedding and tried to squirm away slightly.

“Nay,” he said, catching her with his free hand. “Dinna fight it,” he said soothingly.

She looked at him, and he caught an instant of shock. She was no longer in control of her own body—he was. Connell found wielding that sort of power quite heady, but he also wielded it with care. He whispered soft reassurances as he lowered himself, bracing his weight with his left hand, the fingers on his right maintaining their gentle rhythm.

Connell felt her relaxing as she put her faith in him yet again. For a brief moment, she was absolutely languid . . . but it was only a moment, and she responded to him again.

“Aye, there ye be, lassie. Find yer pleasure, for until ye do, I willna be able tae find mine this night.”

Her body coiled even tighter, and suddenly she was panting, her fingers clutching the blankets beneath her.

“So close . . . so wonderfully close now. This is only the beginning. Ye will find yer pleasure several times before this night is over, I promise ye that.” To make his point, he pressed his fingers harder against her nub.

She completely shattered, her body bowing then shuddering with pleasure so powerfully that for a moment her response appeared almost too intense. But the wave truly possessed her, and she gave herself over to it.

Dear God in heaven, he had never witnessed anything so beautiful in his life. Connell discovered her response was wildly erotic; he fought with every ounce of control he possessed to stay his course. When her body stopped, so would he. He held her until he felt her body begin to uncoil.

He lightened his touch, knowing she might become oversensitive. Despite his efforts, she flinched. He let her slide away just a bit but then wrapped his arms around her and stretched out next to her, speaking soft reassurances and allowing his lips to lightly kiss and nibble hers. He would let her gather herself—but just for a short bit of time.

Connell also took this opportunity to unlace his boots and kick them off. That took some doing since he had moved his right hand to fondle her breast while she slowly came down from her heights. Gradually he freed himself from his leggings too. He had been glad Mairi had loosened the laces, but he had still been painfully trapped. When he rid himself of the last bit of clothing, he could have sworn his cock grew even harder.

He turned his attention fully to Mairi. Her breathing was still ragged, and he noticed slight tremors continued to leap through her. “Ye still be in the last of yer throes,” he said and couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips.

After that response, he wasn’t worried about her desire fading—at least not for a very long time. He knew he wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight. He would have a hell of a time dragging himself to the shop in the morning. But at least he would have a smile on his face. The fire roaring through him increased, demanding he no longer delay . . . slowly his control began to slip through his fingers. Connell’s soothing kisses gradually became more a little more insistent. Mairi responded, but not as wholeheartedly as first. She was still reeling. His hands slid up her sides and along her back as he pulled her a little closer. Her skin was so very soft and silky. He loved the feel of her body, the graceful curves that his hands traveled over. Like the steel he worked in the forge, she had grown strong—tempered in the fire this life had embroiled her in. There was a point where if the steel was weak at its most basic foundation, the fire could ruin it, the metal crumbling away like sand. But if it did not, the metal became stronger. But even when the blade was properly formed, the steel now strong, the work wasn’t done. For smithing was an art, and craftsmanship honed the steel into sleek lines and elegant curves. Strong and powerful but now so very artful in its design. Mairi wasn’t a sword, but her spirit had the strength of steel. It was just that sort of steel Connell loved to work, but it was so rare to find. But when the smith could truly find the spirit in the steel, that one sword would surpass anything that had come before.