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Authors: Sophia Johnson

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have spewed at the very thought and stood by useless as a babe while that man skewered Alpin.”

What if Meghan had yielded to her softer side and it was the cause of her sickness? Disappointment nagged at him.

The thought of her increasing with his child was a heady one, and his instinct told him she carried his babe.

“Nay. Meghan of Blackthorn wouldna blink at killing a man if she did so to protect another. If she sickens again, tell me.”

Never afore had Ede looked at him with such distaste. He squared his jaw and walked away from her.

Days passed without any untoward happenings. Rolf took every opportunity to be with Meghan. His greatest delight was hearing her throaty laughter when he would catch her unaware and swing her around in the air like she was naught but a wee lass.

Her eyes sparkled whenever he came into sight. She would quickly glance around, and if they had privacy, she would tug the hair at his temples until she could reach his lips to kiss him, all the while, her greedy hands roved over his bare chest.

’Twas on a bright cloudless day that Rolf planned ahead to please her. He had his warriors search the woods on the mainland, then patrol at a discreet distance from a clearing carpeted with heather. In the center of the clearing stood one lone, magnificent oak tree. Beneath it, he stashed a thick blanket, a flask of sweet wine, apples, a thick wedge of cheese, and a loaf of freshly baked bread. Dense oak and beech trees surrounded the clearing, giving added privacy.

When Rolf returned to the bailey, he spied Meghan about to enter the stables. Afore she knew what he was about, he swooped down and grasped her about the waist and up into his arms. He grinned at her startled look, then kissed her soundly.

After several moments, he pretended to struggle from her grasp and eyed her sternly. “Come, woman, enough. Where is your shame to kiss me so afore all?”

“I did no such thing, oaf. ’Tis ye who accosted me,” Meghan

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huffed and punched his shoulder before sliding from his grasp to the ground. “What do ye here?”

“Ah, your puny woman’s sight does not see Storm waitin’

patiently for you? Nor Malcolm with Simple?” He delighted in the eager look she cast up at him. “Aye. I thought mayhap you would like to exercise Simple in the woods.”

Afore the last word was spoken, Meghan was seated on Storm’s saddle, holding out her bare wrist to welcome her sparrowhawk.

“Don the wrist guard first, Meghan,” Rolf commanded, then watched as Malcolm handed it to her. Once it was on her arm and Simple was settled there, swaying back and forth as if excited, Rolf flashed a smile at her. “Last one across the bridge must grant the other’s wish.”

People scattered like leaves afore a summer’s gale as they galloped through the open barbican and onto the bridge. Rolf held Luath back until the last moment, then urged him on. He flashed her a grin when Luath’s hooves were the first to strike land. She raised her brows in question, and he winked at her.

“Later, Meghan mine, you’ll grant my wish later.”

Meghan smiled with pleasure on seeing the clearing. When they stopped beneath the tree, she threw her head back to look up at the thick canopy of leaves fluttering in the wind with sunlight peeking through like flashing gems.

The scent of heather surrounded them, and from the wicked look in Rolf ’s gray eyes, Meghan knew he had selected this spot because of it. When he flared his nostrils, lowered his head, and snorted like a randy boar, she shrieked with laughter and scrambled up the tree. He came after her, always allowing her to escape him up to the next fork in the branches. Finally, they settled near the top, one on either side of the heavy trunk.

Simple hopped from one spot to another, cocked her head, and looked as if they were the simple ones, not she.

“ ’Tis beautiful.” Rolf took a deep breath of air and exhaled slowly. “Were that life could be as peaceful as the scene around us.”

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“Ye would grow bored within a sennight.” Meghan studied the wistful expression in his eyes, then he blinked and sighed.

“Come, if I dinna go below, Simple will think she should build a nest here, foolish bird that she is.” She was gratified to hear his bark of laughter.

Rolf swung down, insisting he be below in case of a mishap. She scoffed at the idea, but allowed him his way.

Once again, as he had in the forest when she had escaped him, he caught her about the thighs when she left the tree. He nuzzled her stomach, her breast, her neck as he lowered her, lifting her skirts all the while. She was naked when he set her feet on the ground.

Soon after, they lay on the blanket with the sunlight flashing across their bare flesh.

“Mmm, Meghan mine,” Rolf murmured in her ear, “do you like the breeze betwixt your legs, the sunlight warming your breasts?” He lapped her straining nipples, first one then the other.

For answer, she wrapped her legs around his hips and urged him to take her.

“Nay, love. You lost the race.” Folding his arms around her, he rolled onto his back so that she was astride him. “ ’Tis my wish you ride me as you would Storm.”

Which Meghan did, with great fervor. She leaned forward, her hands beside his head, and urged him to suckle the breast she offered him. Later, after both were sated, they nibbled the bread and cheese and drank the wine while they watched Simple hunt.

The sparrowhawk spotted a young hare streaking across the heather and pursued it. The hare led Simple on a merry chase, first going right, then left, then circling around and heading in the opposite direction. When the fleet animal ducked beneath a bush, the hapless raptor dove beak first right into the center of it and flailed about, stuck.

“Hold, you foolish bird,” Rolf shouted as he raced to aid her.

He reached her afore Meghan, and she stood back and watched.

Rolf took long moments to soothe Simple, murmuring gentle

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words and lightly caressing the little head with the backs of his fingers. When Simple calmed, he carefully freed her from the bush and held her to his chest while he checked her for injuries.

Meghan watched, and her heart surged at the gentle expression on his face. This was the Rolf who had carefully nur-tured a forsaken Ugsome as a pup, who took the time to chew food and feed it to him. The same man who took steps to make his young brother feel loved, worthy, even seeking revenge for the boy’s injuries. She could not fault him for that.

Too soon, the waning sun warned them ’twas time to return within the castle walls.

One rainy afternoon, Rolf greeted another messenger.

He was not from Blackthorn, though Rolf would much have preferred it after learning that three days hence, Ailsa would ride across the bridge and into the bailey. Cold dread washed over him.

Never had he been so torn. Too late, he knew his vengeance would destroy Meghan and himself a great deal more than it would Connor. When she had come so close to death during the battle with the varlets who had raided his crofters, his heart had stopped beating. When it resumed, it near leaped from his chest.

Now, guilt consumed him for what he was about to do. He was no stranger to guilt. When Ingirid and his child had died, guilt near destroyed him because he had not been there to defend his home.

He shoved his somber thoughts aside and smiled with a more recent memory. His blood leapt with joy believing Meghan was carrying his bairn. He watched her carefully.

Though too early to note any physical changes, his instinct told him his seed had taken. In another fortnight, no doubt her breasts would begin to ripen, their nipples turn a rosier hue.

A fortnight? Would she even bear him in her presence at that time, much less let him test the weight of her breasts?

That icy thought washed all feelings of elation from his mind.

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With a heavy heart, he went in search of Ede and found her in the kitchens.

“Have Cook prepare Meghan’s favorite foods and chill wine in the well. Have them brought to my solar for our evening meal. I would be alone with her this night.” He spied Meghan with Storm in the horses’ exercise area. He could see she talked to the gelding as she brushed his mane.

He strode over to her, needing to spend as much time with her as he could cram into the rest of the day.

“Come, Meghan, the water lures me. I would wash the sweat from my body.” His heart quickened when a look of pleasure crossed her face. In a short time, they were astride their mounts and racing across the bridge and into the forest.

When they reached the pool, he was off Luath and at her side afore she could dismount.

“Ye have no need to help me, Rolf. I am no helpless lass.”

“Aye, you are not. But dinna deny me my pleasures.” He held her close against his body, letting her glide slowly down his length. Her eyes smiled when she noted his avid state.

“Mmm, do I sense eagerness, my lord?”

“Mmm, do I sense need, my lady? You have learned well all I have taught you of pleasure. Now, indulge me. I would sit and watch you about your water play.” He turned her toward the beckoning water and urged her forward. She did not disappoint him as he made his way to the rock and stood waiting, expectant.

Laughing, she stepped to the water’s edge. She threw back her head and pretended to ignore him as she lowered her hands to the hem of her tunic. He held his breath while she inched the cloth up, revealing the sheer smock beneath. When the cloth came to her head, she held her arms high, hiding her face behind it for a moment.

His hot gaze swept over her. The sun outlined her exquisite form for his eyes, stirring him as no full nudity would. She seemed to sense that. She propped her foot on a rock, pulled the smock up to the joining of her legs, and untied the ribbon holding her stocking in place. As she peeled it down her right

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leg, he thought he could not swell any larger or he would burst with need.

He was wrong.

When she lifted her left leg and started undressing it, he couldna tear his eyes away. Not so his own clothing. His shirt ripped as he whipped it over his head, afraid he would miss one heartbeat of time in watching her. Her plump mound and its pink flesh were exposed to his eyes.

His belt clattered to the rock; his plaid slithered beside it. He was naked. His tarse was as hard as the steel of Beast.

Her chuckle was as wicked as sin. He pulled his gaze from her pink flesh for seconds and was sorry for it. She lowered her leg, gave him a teasing glance, and slowly walked into the water.

The hem of her smock floated atop the water, allowing him a glimpse of the dark curls between her legs. How could cloth excite him so? Bending forward, she took handfuls of water and splashed it over her breasts.

She faced him, her lovely breasts jutting their pink, pebbled nipples at him and begging him for his lips. He reached down, encircled his tarse, and stared into her eyes as he rubbed his hand up and down, his body tensing with the pleasure of it.

Seeing what he did, her eyes widened in surprise.

It did not daunt her. Smiling, she raised her hands. Her fingertips fondled her nipples while she dampened her parted lips. Watching his hand now, when he stroked himself upward, she pulled gently, extending her nipples.

Rolf growled with delight; Meghan moaned with desire.

He launched himself off the rock in a dive that took her beneath the water with him. By the time they surfaced, he was deep within her hot center.

Their love play did not end until the sun began to dip.

They lay upon the rock, her head nestled on his shoulder and her leg thrown across his warm belly. As they watched the shadows lengthen, they wished for more hours to dally.

When they donned their clothing at last, Rolf didna want the day to ever end.

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If he could hold back time, he would do so now. He cursed the fleeing hours as they returned to the castle. He grasped her hand and hurried with her to his solar.

Servants had pulled back the bedding the way he had ordered, and a peat fire burned, warm and inviting. Cook’s helpers had brought succulent trenchers of hot food when they had spotted their master coming across the bridge.

Nay, Rolf could not ask for a more delightful setting than this.

Still, he could ask that it never end.

Yet it would.

His heart lurched sickeningly.

Chapter 22

Rolf fed Meghan her favorite meat, savory morsels of roasted boar. She lapped his fingertips after each offering.

Not to be outdone by her sensual teasing, he held the dew-wet goblet of chilled wine for her to sip, then kissed away each glistening droplet that lingered on her lips like sparkling red jewels.

They dined slowly, and Rolf tempted her with soft touches and slow kisses that fired his own blood till he was ready to devour her.

With each kiss, he eased a garment from her body, slowly, worshipfully. Her eager hands soon had his belt beneath the table, his plaid crumpled on the floor. From that first night together, she had equaled him in passion. Never had he known a woman who flamed so hotly at his lightest touch.

A heavy fur rug covered the floor in front of the fireplace, and it was there he coaxed Meghan. He placed her on her back, fanned her silky, chestnut hair around her head, and hunkered back on his heels to savor the sight of her golden body. Her firm arms and muscled, long legs were finely proportioned, but it was her lovely breasts and taut stomach that drew his gaze.

The cook had provided a tray of fruits, cheese, and hot bread, along with jellies made of plums and peaches. When Rolf reached up to search the top of the table, his fingers dunked into the small bowl of plum jelly.

Grinning like a fool, he straddled her and waggled his purple-smeared fingers close to her lips. Her tongue flicked out

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to lick the sweets from his thumb, but he pulled back and smeared her nipples with a streak of the fruit instead.

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