McCann's Manor (55 page)

Sean laughed wickedly, submitted his face to Moira as she poured a concoction from an ornate blue stoppered bottle onto a small white cloth and plied it to his face. “You are truly evil, my love. The thought of it never crossed my mind at all, but I shall return to get them if you wish it,” he said.

"No, I need you to stay here and help me with this potion. I shall teach those two to tamper in
my
affairs,” she said.

He grasped her hand, locked his gaze with hers. “
Our affairs
, my sweet ...
our
affairs,” he reminded. “What concerns you, concerns me as well."

She stared at him a long moment before she tried to escape from his hold. “Is that why you went to
her
bedroom in the night and tried to seduce her?” she asked coldly.

He blinked his eyes fiercely to try to hide his surprise at her question. She
knew
. He had never imagined she would guess it. He loosened his grip, let her hand slip from his and smiled to hide the growing fear of her he felt deep inside. “I went there only to frighten her,” he said coolly.

She sized him up, her hot glare making him fairly cringe. “Looking like
him
? Pray, tell me, what do you perceive there is about
him
that would frighten her?"

He opened his mouth, but words failed. He looked away from her eyes, those eyes that could read him all too well. “I-I was toying with her; nothing more. ‘Twas much the same as when you used to take such delight in tormenting
him
. I never questioned
your
motives, did I?"

Her eyes narrowed. “And well you should
not
question me, Ian Malcomb! Not my motives, nor anything I say or do!” she threatened. She watched him trying to cover the fear he felt each time their eyes met. What was wrong with him? What was it she could almost sense in him but could not quite perceive?

For the longest time, it had been growing; that almost imperceptible gnawing inside that told her things were not as they should be between her and the man she had sworn to love for all eternity. Had she not lived up to his expectations of her? Had she not gone along with his plan to rid herself of her husband so they could have each other at last? How had she failed him? Why did he look on her now with fear instead of love, instead of lust? Why did he suss out other women for his amusement when he had pledged his undying devotion for her? Was she so hideous to the eye?

Of
course,
she was repulsive, since that loathed statue came crashing down on her father and left her face and body scarred for life. What else did a woman have, if not her looks, to beguile the world? Magic was a shabby substitute for the soft invitation of woman flesh, but magic was all she had left, wasn't it? Her father was gone; her beauty, stripped from her and now the man she loved would rather spend his nights with someone else, even one such as that
Elizabeth
woman from the future who was her enemy because of her compassion for Tarrh.

She would
have
her revenge and no one was going to stand in her way! She would see the man responsible for her father's death, for the demise of her beauty, dead and cursed to boot. He would pay for his transgressions and so would everyone in his lineage and anyone who tried to help any of them. Her beauty might be gone, but her magic was strong and waxed more powerful daily. Sean would see. When at last there was nothing to keep them apart, he would see.

"Why don't we take a rest from this
potion fury
you have worked yourself into, my love?” Sean asked, finding his voice at last. He approached her once again, nibbling lightly on her neck. He had seen doubt and regret in her eyes, something too dangerous for her to dwell long upon, lest she begin to think of getting rid of him as well. She was too powerful if it came to a struggle of wizardry between them; he had worked on setting everything up too long to allow a few doubts she might be feeling to ruin it for him now. He had been poor and he would never go back to that life. He was too close to having everything he could ever want. Once Tarrh was gone, he,
Tarrh's long lost illegitimate half brother
, would have all that Tarrh had possessed, including Moira's inheritance from old MacPherson.

All he had to do was keep on reminding her how much he
loved
her and
wanted
her, until he had her exactly where he wanted her. This had turned into a much better situation than his original design had been. If Moira
hadn't
been betrothed to Tarrh, Sean would have simply married Moira and gradually taken over all of MacPherson's estate. This way, he could have both McCann's
and
MacPherson's holdings, making him the wealthiest man in all of this part of Scotland. There was no place in his purpose, nor any time, for this accursed paralyzing fear.

Moira moved away from his caressing hands and lips, back to her workbench, but Sean followed her, loosened the lacings on her dress and nibbled more avidly on her neck. With swift and elegant dexterity, he pulled the fasteners that held her hair swept back from her neck and gently massaged her temples as her dark hair fell in soft curls past her shoulders. He paused
just there
to inhale deeply the fragrance of her hair because he knew it drove her mad with lust to hear his soft sighs so close to her ear.

She pretended to continue with her work, but he could see by the rising and falling of her breasts that her body was responding to him, even though she might have preferred it otherwise. He moved in yet closer against her so she could feel the intimacy of him and be further coaxed by the feigned urgency of his strokes as he began to pull the loosened day dress off her shoulders, letting it slide slowly to the floor. Next, he unfastened her undergarments ever so painstakingly, letting his hand brush all too gently against the soft flesh underneath.

Her breaths came in quivering little gasps now and he knew he had her ready. She could never resist him once he had touched the skin of her belly and breasts. It was time to make his move and he turned her to face him, now sure of himself, the fear and dread replaced by the fire of hunger in his eyes and in his loins. He let his gaze sweep her form deliberately and with great appreciation of what he saw. She had a body beyond any other he had ever seen; skin, a creamy lucent model of perfection that invited his touch, begged him to kiss every inch of it.

He growled like a ravenous beast as he gently tugged the last of her clothing off her alabastrine form and stood back just inches to prize what his hands had revealed to his eyes. But unlike the eager brute he imitated, he relished and even prolonged every action spent in this preparation of his prey. He would take his time with this, would make her wait for what they both wanted and she would be his willing slave once again. This was what he
was
; this was the only thing he had ever been really good at and he dearly loved this brand of leisurely seduction that never failed to take the fairer sex to the brink.

He had to admit, Moira was more woman than he had ever known before—strong, determined and too stubborn to give him the pleasure of hearing her beg for his attentions. They were two of a kind, he supposed, and they
did
deserve one another. This time, he told himself;
this time
he would bide until she implored him to take her. This time, he would know a true victory and from now on, he would never have to fear her wrath, because she would crave him too much ever to hurt him.

He tangled his hand in her ebony hair, drew her face to his and brushed his lips ever so lightly across hers. She leaned into him, ran her long delicate fingers up his back. He could feel her lips tremble in anticipation of his kiss. He knew she needed to feel him devouring her mouth with his, needed to hold him tighter, tighter, until the emptiness inside her was full again. He held back, grazing her face with his hand, running his thumb over her quivering lower lip.

She sucked his thumb into her mouth, bit it hard enough to make him wince, but he didn't. Instead, he pulled her closer still to him and gazed into her eyes, his smile never changing. He looked at her with all the provocative ardor he could muster, leaned down to suckle her breast. She threw her head back and moaned aloud, closed her eyes, bit his thumb harder until he groaned and shifted to look at her again.

"Did you skip dinner, my love?” he asked.

"No. Why do you ask?” she countered, letting his thumb slip from her moist lips.

He laughed lightly. “Only that you were about to bite my thumb off. I thought you must be hungry,” he replied.

"I
am
hungry, but not for your thumb,” she said in a piquant, husky voice.

"Do you want me?"

"What do you think?"

"I think you do, lass,” he said. “But I want
you
to ask
me
just this once."

She looked at him coolly. “Why?"

He took off his shirt and trousers without breaking eye contact, returned to embrace her solidly against his taut body. “Sometimes a man needs to hear that he is wanted, lass; in all our time together, you have never told me you wanted me,” he said.

"Perhaps not with words,” she said. “I should have thought my body told you plenty of times."

"'Tis not enough. This time I want to
hear
you say it with those fine, dainty lips of yours,” he said. “Say you want me."

She pulled his face to hers, locked her lips to his in a passionate kiss, all the while exploring his nude body with her hands. It was a kiss that made them both reel as though the room was awhirl, but he fought to regain his reason, pushed her away. “What is it?” she asked.

"Say it!” he hissed, though in truth he intended to take her hard and soon, whether she said it or not. He bit his lip until he tasted blood, but still held her at arms’ length.

"What does it matter? You
know
how I feel,” she protested.

"Perhaps I do,” he said, “or perhaps I need to be reminded."

She made a grimace, tried to kiss him again, but he held her away from him.

"Not this time, lass,” he said. “Either you
ask
me to make love to you because you want me, or I walk out and leave you here with your potions.” He regretted having said it the instant it was out, but he had delivered the ultimatum now and he had to stand by it. What if she didn't really want him as much as he had thought? Would she resist, even knowing he would leave her chambers if she did?

She looked at his feet, at the floor, at anything but his eyes. He watched her make tight fists of her hands and he even thought he saw the beginnings of tears in her beautiful eyes, but still she said nothing.

"Very well, then,” he said at last, “you have chosen. Perhaps another time.” He gingerly bent over to retrieve his clothes and pulled his trousers on, headed for the door.

"Don't go,” she said at last and he stopped, turned immediately to face her. “Please—don't go and leave me like this. I do want you, Sean. I
want
you to make love to me,” she sobbed.

He could scarcely believe his ears. “Was that so painful, then?” he asked as he rushed to her side, swept her into his arms and carried her to her bed. “All I wanted to know was that you really do want me."

It was a fact she had to admit; this moment there was nothing in the world she wanted more than to have Sean next to her, kissing her, touching her, making love to her; she had never wanted anything more in all her life. “I want you so badly I think I will burst. It makes me brainsick to think of you with anyone else,” she confessed. “Please—
please
, take me!"

Sean gloated at her words. This would be a night she—
and he
—would long remember. She had said the magic words that made her his, once and for all. Strange, though, how her admission made
him
feel more frantic to be inside her than he had ever been before; more ardent to please her. Was this the way he had planned it, or was
she
still in control of this affair? He shed his trousers and came to her as though it was their first time, as though the fears and doubts he had just been having were the bad dreams of someone else—as though they both were merely lovers, caught in the passion of the moment with nothing to gain but each other and nothing to lose.

It was close to midnight when Tarrh and Melody led the group through the secret passage to Moira's chambers. He paused to listen before opening the panel fully and stepping into the room followed closely by the others. They crept silently into the semi-darkened room to find it empty. The only light came from a dying fire in the fireplace and a single candle burning on Moira's work table. Tarrh closed the panel, took another step into the room, felt his hackles rise as he scanned the room more closely, still found no one. Was she already a step ahead of them? Had she anticipated their invasion of her quarters?
Where was she
? Equally important, where were the dogs?

He had expected to find her and Sean here, still making plans, poring over potions and finalizing their offensive. Instead he found only an empty room and the growing suspicion that they had already launched their attack. Did she know where they were, or had she and Sean gone to his chambers to try to surprise him and the others? He let out a long, slow sigh, crossed to the work table to examine what was left of her recent handiwork.

"What is it, Tarrh?” Melody asked, followed him to the table.

Tarrh lit some more candles, picked up two vials and examined what was left of their contents. “She has worked a spell against our friends, it seems. See, here? She left some of your hair unused,” he proclaimed, handing the vials to Liz and Kim. “The question is how did she get your hair?"

Liz examined the vial. “I have no
idea
,” she said, a chill stealing down her spine.

"I have an
idea
how,” Benjamin began. “Sean has gone through the portal to visit Liz at least once. Perhaps he returned in their absence and helped himself."

"
What
?” Tarrh snapped. “Sean has gone through the portal? That means they have the ability to control it enough to travel to whenever and wherever they desire. Are you quite certain of this, Benjamin?"