Risk Everything (27 page)

Rolf did not see her, but his eager tarse knew where she hid. In the bed. He untied his leggings, and his turgid flesh sprung forth. Ready. ’Twas like Lucifer’s own tarse, or a hunting dog pointing to her whenever she was near.

He padded over to the bed, his ragged breathing the only sound in the room. Prickles of expectant tension swept over Meghan. His hands burrowed beneath the covers, then struck swift as a snake as he grabbed her ankles and tugged.

She shrieked, feeling as small as a newborn pup and as helpless. While he pulled her down to the edge of the bed, she fought her clothing and the covers that bunched up over her waist to her head. She dissolved in laughter when he tickled her ribs and lapped his tongue around her navel.

Cold air spread over her naked legs as he pulled her ever closer to him. She tried to fight the tangled mounds of material. Then she felt the heat of him on the insides of her calves, the insides of her thighs. One more tug. Cold air warned her that her body was open to him.

His heat moved closer to her exposed center, and as she thrashed about, he grasped her hips in a steel vise and twisted just enough to brush against her. The hard length of him sent bolts of heat through her.

He thrust into her. She cried out. He grunted, withdrew, and entered slowly. Each time she took him more fully until he filled her near to bursting.

“Wait, you rutting beast. Free my arms,” she hollered at him.

He ignored her. The more she flailed about, the more en-tangled she became in the bedding and the faster he thrust into her. With a hoarse shout, he surged again and again as he spurted his seed into her, filling her.

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Spent, he collapsed atop her, his heart pounding through the covers. She beat against him, trying to dislodge him.

“Ye misbegotten goat.” The material muffled her voice. “I canna breathe.”

He lifted enough to thrust the covers off her.

“Ye great randy oaf, dinna—”

She got no further. Hard at first, his lips softened and gentled until they urged a response from her. For a moment, she no longer knew why she protested. Just for a moment. Then she remembered the covers and tugged great handfuls of his hair.

“Dinna e’er do such again, or Christ help me, I will maim ye. Ye will need the aid of a stout tree branch tied to yer prick to make that part of ye rise again.”

Rolf raised up and stared hard at her. “Humpf,” he muttered, then nibbled at her lower lip while he began to strip her of her clothes.

“What do ye think ye are doing?” She grabbed for her smock, but he soon had her naked beneath him.

“ ’Tis simple. You gained little pleasure from the coupling.

I will give it to you now.” He sounded so sure that her reason for protest was that he had not gratified her.

“Do ye think ye can have me any time? At yer own will?”

After talking with the women of Blackthorn, she knew neither her brother nor her cousins would take their wives for granted thusly. Well, mayhap Damron had on first marrying Brianna. Ne’er after she set him straight on it.

“Ye dinna wish to swive?” He rocked his hard tarse against her and waggled his brows in disbelief.

“Dinna dare think to thrust into me again.” She glared up at him.

“Nay?” After studying her eyes, he shrugged. “Still, I would give you pleasure, if but from the sound of my voice, the scent of my body, as I tell you of all the things I want to do to you. And
will
do to you. If not this day, then another.”

Pinning her hands above her head, he whispered of his fantasies of them together. He rubbed his cheek against hers, spoke softly in her ear. His scent quickened her heartbeat. His

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breath against her ear caused her to shiver. His words made her twitch. He nuzzled her throat, her breasts, lapping the nipples. All the while, he told her of every erotic pleasure he knew until she squirmed and panted.

Never once did he caress her with his hands or kiss her. He played her body with words, the deep timbre of his voice and the powerful aid of his body’s scent. He knew of that power, for the hint of heather that wafted from her was all he needed to thicken his shaft.

Feeling her stiffen, he knew she was on the brink of surrender. He reached down, latched on to a nipple, and sucked greed-ily. Meghan reared and exploded. Wave after wave pulsed through her, each more intense than the last. He did not release his hold on her breast until he felt her final tremors.

Meghan lay stunned. What had he done to her that she would respond at his will? Was he a mystic that he could call forth a response any way he desired? She lay limp and exhausted.

Rolf sprang to his feet, pulled his leggings over his still-raging tarse, and tied the strings at the waist. He chuckled and pulled the door closed with a snap, the sound as arrogant as the man who caused it. His footsteps retreated down the landing.

By all that is holy, she was more furious now than ever before. At herself. It tore at her soul to have a man control her very emotions. Never again would she allow him to prove his mastery over her body.

No sooner had his footsteps faded than they approached the door again. She jumped up, still naked and her flesh heated as she stalked to the door. Jerking it open, she prepared to slam it in his face when she’d had her say.

“Ye stupid lout—” Her shout died to an embarrassed gasp.

She had spied who stood before her.

Chapter 20

Alpin MacKean stared at Meghan, looking stunned. More than stunned. Turned to stone—but for his eyes. Their intense gaze roved from her head to her toes, appreciating every exposed inch of her.

Heat rose to Meghan’s cheeks, but she did not flinch. With regal composure, she stepped aside to use the door as a shield.

“ ’Twould be best if ye had announced yerself,” she said.

“Did you give me the chance, I would have. You opened to me afore my lips could speak the words.” His eyes twin-kled with humor she never thought to see there. “ ’Tis gratified I am that I did not.”

“No doubt. What is it?” She cocked her head and waited.

“Hmm? What?” He stumbled over his words as he forced his gaze back to her face.

“For what purpose did ye seek me out?” Meghan wished he would get on with it. The cold wind swirling up the stairway made her doubly sorry she had not a stitch of cloth on her body.

“Oh, aye.” He blinked, then cleared his throat. “While you were, uh, occupied, word came of a raid to the north.”

The whimsical smile on his lips told her he did not as yet have his wits about him.

“And?” Her eyes narrowed. Did they judge Connor responsible?

“Uh, Rolf thought mayhap you would join us and help calm the village women?” When she hesitated answering, he

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added, “We believe masterless louts have preyed on the helpless crofters.”

“Why didna ye say so right off ?” As she started to push the door shut, he wedged his boot between it and the door frame.

“You will come?” His voice sounded hopeful.

“If ye will remove yer hulking body, I will be down afore ye are on yer steed.” Her naked toes reached around to nudge his ankle. He took the hint and removed himself. She heard him laugh as he clattered down the stairwell.

Without a lost movement, she threw on her clothing and raced out into the bailey as Jamie led Storm over to meet her.

“Thank ye, Jamie.” She took hold of the pommel and started to spring onto Storm’s back, but a gust of wind lifted her skirts. “Lucifer’s toes,” she grumbled in disgust. “Look aside, man, if ye dinna want me to blacken yer eyes.”

Meghan gave him but a few moments to turn his head, then she gathered her skirts and mounted. “Devil take it. Storm isna used to foolish women’s skirts flappin’ at his sides.”

“Is it your wish to return to the castle and sew on a tapestry for the great room?” Rolf ’s stern voice said behind her.

Luath snorted and stomped, but his master tightened his reins.

“Ye should geld that misbegotten destrier.” She pulled Storm out of the mean-tempered horse’s range.

“Nay. He obeys me well. Always have I used firm control o’er rebellious souls. They soon learn who is master between us.”

Looking expectant, Rolf studied her. She knew he dared her to disagree. She could not stand it.

“Huh! He is but a dumb beast with no brains to reason.”

“Should we return above where I may again prove who is master?” His voice was soft. Promising, yet sinister.

Meghan flashed him a disgusted look and shot forward on Storm. The gelding soon caught up to the men riding across the bridge. Rolf ’s satisfied laughter floated to her as he closed the distance between them.

“Stay within the center of the warriors,” Rolf ordered as he streaked forward to lead the line of men.

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Meghan sucked her teeth. Since she had no weapons to defend herself, she had no choice but to obey him. Would he have armed her if he had thought any danger lingered?

They rode hard for several leagues. Of a sudden, Meghan sensed they were not alone. Rolf’s gaze darted to the trees and scanned their branches, looking for hidden archers. He grasped Beast and brought his shield to cover his left side. At a soft command, his men closed in around Meghan.

“Jamie, give me a weapon,” she whispered.

“I canna.” He shifted in his saddle, his broadsword at the ready. His wary eyes scanned the woods on either side.

“Dinna be a fool, man. I dinna ask ye for yer sword, but for a dirk to protect myself.” The skin on her back prickled. She knew eyes watched her. They were not friendly.

She felt helpless, useless, as drawn swords rasped shrill against their scabbards.

Suddenly, arrows flew from the surrounding trees. Behind her, a man cried out. Moments later, Alpin pulled alongside her.

Men swarmed from the forest like a mass of angry bees.

They screamed and slashed out with rusted swords, too close now for the bow and arrow. She watched, anxious, as a man hurtled toward Rolf, his weapon lifted high. Before he could bring it down, Rolf swung Beast in a vicious arc. The man’s head toppled to the ground afore the body joined it, with life-less hands still clutching his sword.

A gnome of a man in a thick cloak of animal pelts darted between several horses and grabbed for Meghan’s leg. Locking her hands together, she slammed them down on his head.

She wheeled Storm around and signaled him to rear up and strike out at the varlet. Shrieking, the man disappeared beneath stomping hooves.

The battle raged around her. Men and horses cried out as they were struck. She cursed Rolf for keeping her weapons from her. But for him, she would be as much help as any man.

After what seemed an eternity, the battle waned. The horse beside her screamed in outrage as a stray blade pricked his flank. The steed reared and dumped the rider to the ground.

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’Twas Alpin who fell so hard it knocked him senseless.

Meghan noted a lout racing toward him, and she leapt from Storm, bent over Alpin, and whipped a dagger from his boot.

An evil grin split the man’s ugly face. A rusty, nicked sword sliced the air as he came at them. The bastard. She read the thoughts in his eyes. He would skewer Alpin as he lay helpless. Then, believing she was but a weak woman, he deemed he could disarm her and haul her off into the woods.

More fool he.

As the dagger left her hand in a blur, Meghan was aware of an eerie silence. Entering with a dull, grating thunk, the blade embedded in the base of the man’s throat.

Surprise bulged the lout’s eyes. His mouth gaped open.

Blood spurted with such force it splattered her clothing and coated Alpin’s mail in a sickening design. Time slowed. The dying man’s knees buckled, and he sprawled across Alpin on the ground.

All was quiet except for the moans of wounded men and horses snorting. The battle ended mere moments afore her blade flew.

“Addle-pated woman,” Rolf roared behind her. “Had you missed, he would have gutted you.”

“Missed? Are ye blind, man?” Meghan blinked in disbelief.

“Ne’er would I miss such an easy target.”

“Killin’ is for men.” His shout ruffled her hair. Grasping her shoulders, he spun her to face him and shook her. “Where did you get the blade?”

“Stop yelling at the lass and get this carrion off me,”

Alpin’s strained voice intruded.

Jamie was closest. He grasped the dead body by a shoulder and a leg and tossed it to the side of the road. Alpin pushed himself up and shuddered. He bent over to stifle a gag.

Meghan wanted to cosh Rolf alongside the head with her fist. She did not, for his helmet would cause her more hurt than him. His gray eyes scowled at her from either side of his nose guard. She glared back. His hard jaw worked as he ground his teeth behind narrowed lips.

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“What matters where I got the blade? Do ye think me such a lackwit that I would cower while he killed Alpin?” she shouted. Bile surged into her mouth, leaving her throat raw.

“Tend yer men and let me be.” If he did not unhand her, she would spew what little she had in her stomach on his boots.

“Are you ill?” His hands softened on her shoulders as his eyes probed her face.

“Nay. Let me go.” Shudders swept over her, near making her knees fold. When riding out on patrol with her cousins, she had been in more than one battle. Fortunately, she had need but for her bow and arrows. Never had she been so close to someone she had been forced to kill.

Just in time, she broke away as Rolf ’s fingers loosened. No sooner had her urgent dash taken her behind the nearest tree than she grasped her stomach and heaved.

Rolf ’s strong arm snaked around her waist to support her.

She wanted to groan in shame. Gentle fingers pulled her hair out of the way, afore his hand braced her forehead.

“Ah, lass, ’tis sorry I am for yellin’ at you,” he whispered.

She grasped the hand that near spanned her stomach and clutched it as a lifeline. She was so dizzy that she would crumple to the dirt if he did not keep her tight against his body. Tears ran down her cheeks as she heaved and could not seem to stop. Never had she been so sick; never had she been so shamed.