The Magic of Highland Dragons (10 page)

“No… Stop. I don’t want this.”
And that is one of the biggest lies I’ve ever told in my whole life!

She saw his mouth tighten into a hard line, saw him struggle momentarily to keep his composure, perhaps even his temper.
So I am right, the laird isn’t used to being told no. Maybe I am even the first woman ever to tell him no.
At that moment she wasn’t entirely sure that title was in her favor. Her body felt molten, her clothing too tight. If only he would take it off… She wanted to cry, because she knew that if he pressed her far enough, she would give in to him. And part of her wished he would press her all the way… It was just that bad.

He took a deep breath, his grip on her arm tightening just a little. “Ye are afraid of me?” he demanded, a little roughly.

She gathered her scattered wits and her dignity and raised an eyebrow. “No. I just don’t want to kiss you.”

His lips immediately curved up in a self-assured smile. “I think ye do
want
to kiss me Faith. I think ye willna allow yourself to do so. Ye willna regret it, this I promise ye. Ye will enjoy my kiss, as much as I will enjoy kissing ye.” His hand slipped around her waist, pulling her closer before she could resist. This time her temper flared. Despite her frighteningly strong inclinations otherwise, she had
said
no.

She struck out at him with her one free fist. It glanced harmlessly off his rock-hard arm. He didn’t even flinch.

“Don’t want to or won’t, the end result is the same! Let me go Bren, I am not one of your playthings. In fact, you have no
idea
who I am!” She slipped from his grasp and ran towards the keep before he could see the sudden tears welling up in her eyes. He overwhelmed her in a big way, and that, on top of everything else, was just too much right now. Everyone had their breaking point, and if she had not just found hers, she was fast approaching it.

He let her go. Watched her run away from him as if he were the very devil. He could have compelled her to stay. He could even have compelled her to give herself willingly to him, but that would not be the same. He would know, even if she didn’t. Not that he had ever bothered to compel a woman to do anything before; in truth he had never had to.

It had never mattered before, whether a woman he was with wanted to be with him as a man, or just because he was Laird or Chief, but for some reason, with Faith it did. He wanted her in truth. Wanted her to come to him of her own free will, and because she wanted him as a man. But oh God, how he wanted her. His whole body was alight and burning with a need greater than any he had ever known before. Fire coursed through his veins, and he could still feel the firm softness of her body beneath his hands, her warm and delicate scent was burned into his memory. She brought out the wildest part of him, the hungriest and the most insatiable. It was a part that he thought he had known well, but this went beyond all else he had ever felt before. He knew he would not rest until he had taken her to his bed, perhaps more than once.

He hadn’t followed her out here intending to kiss her, only to talk to her, as Eian had suggested. But he hadn’t done a very good job of it at all, because once he’d been close to her there in the dark, kissing her was all that he could think about. Nay, not just kissing her, he wanted her naked beneath him,
right now
, naked and wanting him so badly that she was helpless to refuse him. He wanted to spread her thighs and push himself inside, pull her body tight against his and rock her against him, slow and sweet and deep. He had almost tasted her mouth, had been so close, but it seemed that her scent alone was enough to make him crazy with lust, all for her alone. Letting her walk away from him like that when his body burned hotter than ever before took all of his strength. And he hadn’t even kissed her. God and hell, what would it feel like to kiss her? He had to know. Jesu, he had to know everything.

Bren was a very sensual man, and when he was with a woman, it was the smell of her skin, the taste of her flesh under his tongue, even the sound of her heartbeat that drove his hunger to a fever pitch. He needed those things, fed on them, and in turn, a woman’s touch could soothe the untamed parts of him and keep him nearly civilized. He was a man of strong passions, his mind ruled by honor and duty, but his body ruled by his Mac Coinnach blood that flowed hot and powerful in his veins.

And right now he found himself quickly becoming obsessed with one woman. This worried him a little, for he had never before favored one woman over any other. All women were special, gifts of the gods to be treasured. All had secrets to be discovered, could give pleasure to a man’s body as he could give pleasure to theirs. But he had never been so drawn to one in particular, at least not for longer than a few days or at most a few weeks. No, this felt very different somehow.

He let her go, this time, but he would keep her close. She would stay here at Creagmor until he had gotten her out of his blood. Yet even as he lay his head down that night to sleep, her scent came back to him as if she had been there in his bed, and his body grew hard and restless. He ached so much that twice he nearly rose from the bed and went to find her, to bring her back to lie by his side. But that would be the very surest way to break his vow. And no vow he had ever freely given would be broken. He would just have to seduce her slowly, and she would give in to him eventually. The wait, though was going to be bloody painful.

Chapter 6
҈

The next morning he found Faith in the kitchens, kneading dough. Her hair was falling out of its tie, her sleeves were pushed up to the elbows, flour dusted the front of her dress, and she looked all the more beautiful for it. Bren frowned in irritation. She wasn’t supposed to be in here. He had told her he didn’t want her doing the hard work of a kitchen servant. Already, only hours later, she was disobeying his orders.

“Faith.”

She looked up. At the sound of his voice, with its harsh note of reprimand, all of the other women snapped to attention, surreptitiously glancing around the kitchen to make sure all was in order. He didn’t care about the damn kitchen. The damn kitchen could go to hell if only…

“What is it,
my laird
?”

She looked up from under her lashes and gave him a saucy smile that had him rock hard in about two seconds. Damn good thing he had trews on this morning instead of a kilt. Confusing, maddening woman. Last night she wanted nothing to do with him. Had run away from him as if he were the devil himself. Leaving him hard and aching for her… much like he was now.

“We’re riding to the hunting lodge this afternoon lass, we need extra meat for the feast of Beltane. Be ready to leave in an hour’s time. And stay the hell out of the kitchens.”

“I’m
riding? A horse?”

He turned back from the door to stare at her. “Aye, a horse. What else?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know how. I’ve never ridden a horse before.” True she had always wanted to, dreamed about it even, but there was never enough money for riding lessons when she was growing up. And then never enough time
or
money when she was in school.

Bren studied her for a moment in disbelief. How could it be she had never ridden a horse? How did she get
here
? Had she walked the whole way, for God’s sake?

He shook his head in amazement at the incredibly sheltered childhood she must have had. “Dinna worry, I’ll be sure ye ride the most docile mare in the stables. Ye only have to hold on and stay astride, and she’ll follow the other horses.”

A look of relief passed over her face, and she smiled gratefully. Staying astride a horse was probably something she could manage, even her first time. “I’ve always wanted to learn to ride, maybe someone can teach me while I’m here.”

“Aye, perhaps.”

Bren made to leave and she bent back to the kneading. He turned back suddenly, clenching his teeth and his fists to keep from losing his temper. Beating the lass for her insolence would be certain to hinder his attempts at seducing her.

“Stop that at once! Leave the kitchen work to the other women who ken what they’re doing and go get ready to leave. Clean yerself up, too.” He gestured to the flour dusting the front of her gown. “Dinna ye have any finer gowns than that one?”

She glared back at him, raising an imperious eyebrow. “I don’t have
any
other gowns.”

“Hmmmph. Where’s Colm? Colm!”

His shouts echoed loudly through the hall as he stalked out of the room. Faith looked back at Mathilde and Fiona and shrugged helplessly. They gave her identical looks of sympathy laced heavily with shocked amazement. No doubt they thought the laird had gone mad just trying to deal with her many inadequacies.

***

Faith eyed the horse dubiously, but the old mare merely swung her head around and nuzzled her hair. She giggled at the attention, and rubbed the velvet-soft nose. The stable master appeared to hoist her into the saddle, and she felt a flutter of nerves. She didn’t want to fall off, nor did she fancy looking like an idiot in front of all of these men. She was lifted easily onto the horse, and handed her the reins. She looked down, and the ground had never seemed so far away, but when the old mare just stood there waiting patiently for the hunting party to leave, Faith relaxed a bit. She did know enough about horses to realize the animal would sense her unease, so she made a big effort to stay calm. As they started out, she soon found the gentle rocking of the horse soothing, natural, even.

Bren watched her from behind. For never having been on a horse, Faith had a natural seat; she would do fine on this short outing. He was certain she would be an accomplished rider in very little time. He began moving his horse forward through the rest of the group, until he was riding beside her. His brother Eian was a few lengths ahead, and several guardsmen followed in front and behind. Drust, as second eldest, had to stay behind to mind the business of the castle while the laird was away. But there was a bit of time now to work on Faith, and see what he could find out about her, and why Dirc had brought her to Creagmor. He should have no trouble talking to her today. Not when they were both on horseback and it would be nearly impossible to kiss her. There were so many questions to be asked. He glanced over at her. She was staring straight ahead, but the tension of her body told him she knew very well that he was there. He signaled to the others, and they obediently spread out to the front and back, giving Bren space to talk to Faith privately.

“Tell me of your family, lass”, he began gently, in a conversational tone. “What of your parents?”

Faith looked at him, trying to gauge the intent of his question, but he kept his gaze directly ahead. His back was straight and tall, and his harshly beautiful face a mask of somewhat bored indifference. She knew he was far from indifferent, but still, she found herself answering him almost as if she were being compelled. As if she wanted him to know her, and in knowing her, come to care about her in some way, beyond just his obvious desire for her body.

“My mother died several years ago. I never knew my father.”

“He died when ye were young?”

Faith hesitated. “No… I don’t know. Or maybe he did. He could have, I suppose. I guess… I always thought of him as alive, just somewhere else.”

“Yer mother never spoke of him then?”

“Not really. I think it caused her pain to remember, so I never really asked. I didn’t want to hurt her any more than she had been. It was only the two of us. She was all I had. I think I was all she had, too.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. Two women on their own? Was there no man to care for them? “Ye had nay siblings? Nay other family?”

“No. Not that I ever knew of.” She paused, a little bit of pain still flooding her heart, even though she had long since finished grieving. “Even after my mother passed away, they never found any other next of kin. It was just me.” Her mother had done her best to raise her daughter on her own, but she knew it had never been easy. Especially since Faith was such an independent child, always testing her limits, always reaching for… something else. Well, she had landed herself right in the middle of that something else now, all right.

“And where did ye live then, when ye were a child?” he asked carefully.

Faith looked away, concentrating on the narrow road ahead. Dirc had told her to keep it a secret for now, how she had come to be here, and where she had come
from
. Though she didn’t understand any of his motives, she did worry about her own safety. Weren’t people hanged for witches in Britain around this time, just for being a little different? She decided it would be prudent to remain a bit of a mystery, for now, rather than risk being strung up from the nearest tree branch. Besides she actually liked being a bit of a mystery; liked how Bren was watching her as if trying to learn her secrets, almost as if… he was as intrigued by her as she was by him. Despite his somewhat overbearing character, she found she genuinely enjoyed his attention. She wanted him to know her, and she found herself wanting to know him, too.