Torn Between Two Highlanders (13 page)

She understood that. And she wondered if the laird would lead the dancing, and if he would have her sister on his arm. She hoped so. She did. But she felt the curious stares of the laird’s men—some of them lascivious. And though she was resigned to her status as a fallen women, she didn’t want them to get the idea that she was available to them for a price.

“I’d like some air,” she said, waving away the smoke from a candle, as if that was what bothered her.

And Davy rose to walk beside her. “I’ll go with you.”

In truth, she loved having Davy beside her. His strength, his bravery, his confidence all made her feel stronger. But given her feelings for Malcolm, she was decidedly confused.

“You needn’t walk with me,” she said when they escaped the hall.

“There isn’t anyone else I’d rather walk with, lass. Besides…I have something for you.”

Arabella turned to him, curiously, as he offered her…a turnip.

“After the snowstorm, there aren’t any flowers to be had,” he explained. “But I asked the kitchen girl to cut one for you out of a turnip. She agreed only if we promised to eat it. Anyway, I was going to offer it to you when the music started and ask you to dance, but in truth, I’d rather have you to myself.”

“Would you now?” she asked, utterly charmed.

Davy swallowed, wiping one sweaty palm upon his plaid, and she realized that he was nervous. Very nervous. She’d never seen him this way before. And a flush began to crawl its way up his pale neck to his freckled ears. “Arabella, I have a very important question to ask you.”

Dear
God
, was he going to propose marriage? And what would she say if he did? Her whole body tightened like a bowstring as her mind reeled in confusion. She’d made peace with the fact that she was too ruined to be any man’s wife. She’d cast off Conall and made love to Malcolm and…

Davy cleared his throat. “Arabella, I canna stop thinking about kissing you. About touching you. I sit next to you at a table and feel my cock swell to the bursting point. You’d think I’d have had my fill of you at the cottage, and I tried. But now I’m in a fever of need. And it is more distracting than you could ever imagine. Even at this moment, my mind is a haze as I imagine lifting you up and pressing your back to this wall, and taking you here and now. I was hoping you would agree to let me.”

It was not, of course, what she thought to hear him say.

And even less did she anticipate her immediate lustful response to him. She didn’t expect her whole body to roar awake with wanting him to do just as he described. She would have thought herself sated. But she was insatiable.

And she had Davy to thank for that, in part.

Hours ago, she told herself that she loved Malcolm. And she still believed it. But there was no denying that Davy had a hold on her too, and not just on her lusts. That he would have taken the trouble to give her a turnip-flower!

He was boyishly charming, and sexually adventurous, and she wasn’t certain it was in her to deny him. Or herself. Virtuous girls denied themselves…but Arabella would not. “Won’t we get caught?”

“Not by anyone who matters,” Davy said, flashing her that familiar grin. He had been nervous she would say no. It had meant a great deal to him to be able to have her again. And in spite of all expectations, it was important to her too.

As if it evened scales that she hadn’t realized were unbalanced.

When he grasped her about the waist, and she felt a thrill go through her at the thought of being taken here, so near to the hall that they could even hear the music playing, she felt herself go slick with desire. But that wasn’t all she was slick with. “But Davy, I must tell you…I was with Malcolm.”

“I know,” he said, pressing her gently back against the stone, his hands tugging up her skirt, his mouth closing on the hollow of her throat where her pulse thumped like a scared rabbit.

“Today, I mean,” she said, wondering if she should feel guilty.

Wondering if he would take it as some manner of betrayal.

But if he was surprised or angry he didn’t show it. He was too busy hoisting her leg up over his hip. “Good…” His fingers found her passage, and he groaned. “He left you ready for me.”

“Oh,
God
,” Arabella whispered, throwing her head back in ecstasy as Davy’s swollen cockhead probed at her entrance, then slammed into her with a satisfying thrust. It was a wild and wicked and sinful thing to do. And she
loved
Davy for doing it to her. No, that couldn’t be possible, could it? That she could love Davy and Malcolm both?

Fortunately, she was too consumed with passion to give more thought to it.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, and Davy was more than strong enough to hold her aloft as he pumped into her. Holding onto his strong shoulders, she found herself swiftly hurtling toward her climax.

How had that happened? How had it stolen upon her so swiftly?

“Davy, you’re going to make me come.”

“I won’t last long if you do,” he said by her ear, tossing his head so that his sweaty red curls flew away from his eyes and he could stare at her face. And then he grinned. “But I want to make you scream.”

“Everyone will hear if I do!”

He laughed. “And come rushing out of the dining hall to see me swiving a lass against a wall? Oh, aye. I think you’d turn red from the tips of your toes to the tip of your nose. And enjoy every minute of it, you naughty little minx.”

Arabella wasn’t sure if that was true. But at the moment, she was so excited, that it felt true. Worse, it was taking all her strength to keep from going over the edge and screaming. “Oh, oh, oh, please!”

Then it happened. She cried out in pure carnal ecstasy, his swollen cock pinning her against the wall, banging her hard, forcing her to an orgasm she wasn’t even sure she was ready to have.

Their cries mingled, but he did not finish.

Instead, Davy clamped his hand over her mouth to muffle her scream. A thing she was grateful for, because they heard footsteps in the hall. No doubt someone coming to investigate the noise. Davy let her down, pulling free of her still shuddering body, and grabbed her hand. “Run!”

“I can’t even walk,” she gasped.

At which point, her highland lover merely hauled her up and slung her over his shoulder, carrying her off. “Davy!” she cried, laughing in spite of herself as he ran down the hall. “You’re going to drop me.”

“
Never
,” was his reply, as he bounded up the stairs.

“Davy!” she shrieked again, as he carried her right past Brenna, who was so surprised to see their love play that the mousy little maid dropped a basin of water on the floor.

“Sorry,” Davy murmured, not stopping for one moment.

They slammed into a room—she wasn’t sure which, because it was hard to see things half-way upside down—and she was dizzied to find herself laid flat upon a table. Davy hovered over her, still laughing, sweat upon his brow. “All’s well that ends well…so let’s end this, lass.”

He wanted to find his own release, and she didn’t blame him. She wanted him to come. Wanted to give him pleasure. And could not stop touching him, even as she protested, “But Brenna saw us!”

“The maid? And do you care very much what she’s going to say about it?”

Breathless as he crawled atop her, Arabella murmured, “Not so very much…”

“Good,” he said, moving between her legs to insert himself again.

His mouth closed over hers in a passionate kiss that still tasted of sunshine, and it was only a moment before he let out a guttural cry, releasing into her several warm spurts of seed that soothed her sore insides.

They had been so happy together, laughing only a moment ago, that she was surprised to hear him curse. “Goddamnit.”

“What is it?”

“I meant to bring you off again, before I took my pleasure.”

She smiled, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I’m glad you didn’t wait. I liked the wildness of it. I wanted to feel your completion more than my own.”

At that, he sighed and very tenderly took her face in his hands. “I canna get enough of you. I want to taste you again. I want to haul you over my knee and skelp you until your cheeks are pink. I want to blindfold you, and truss you up. I want to try anything and everything I’ve never tried before. And the strangest thing is, I only want to try them with you.”

“You’ve never taken a girl like this before?”

“Against the wall or atop the laird’s desk?”

Arabella forgot to breathe. “This is the laird’s desk?”

Davy laughed, trying to calm her before she squirmed out from underneath him and ran away. “He’s listening to music in the hall with your beautiful sister. He isn’t likely to catch us out.”

Arabella wasn’t sure if she should slap him or kiss him. “You’re a madman!”

“And madly in love with you, lass.”

Arabella’s gaze snapped up at him to see that he wasn’t joking. In truth, there was nothing playful in his eyes at all. He looked as serious as she had ever seen him. “You love me?”

He nodded, his voice lowering with emotion. “I have never met a woman like you. Never thought to meet one. I’ve met pretty things in a skirts who shriek at the sight of a mouse. And I’ve had my way with girls like that. I can’t be sorry for it. But you…you are the sort of girl who wields axes and steals boats. I said to you once that I couldn’t settle upon any steady woman. But with you, there’d be no
settling
about it.”

While Arabella stared at him, feeling her chest ache with love for him, feeling her blood sing the same song, he took a deep breath and asked, “I promised to make no claim on you when we took your maidenhead and I would keep that promise if you felt nothing for me. But I think you do feel something for me.”

“I do,” she whispered. “Of course, I do. But—”

“But it isn’t love?” he asked, a slight quaver in his voice.

“I think it
is
love,” Arabella tried to explain. “Because you make me happy, Davy. Truly, you do. But Malcolm and I—”

“I don’t care about that. T’was my idea to share you with Mal in the first place. I enjoyed every minute of it. Enjoy thinking about it even now and will probably stroke myself a thousand more times remembering it. You’re a sensual creature when overwhelmed in the arms of two men and he did things to you I’d like to learn how to do. And yet, it’s not sex I’m speaking of, Arabella. I’m speaking of feelings.”

Arabella’s heart felt torn in two. “As am I, Davy. I have feelings for Malcolm.”

“Ah,” Davy said, rolling off her slightly. Warily, he asked, “More than for me?”

Arabella hesitated. “
Differently
than I feel for you.”

“That’s a hard choice to make then,” he said, and she could see that he was hurt, though he was trying hard to be sensible. Whereas Malcolm’s pain was always evident from the dark cast of his eyes to the scar upon his cheek, Davy hid his pain behind a good nature. And it devastated Arabella to think that she should ever do anything to make Davy unhappy.

In the silence, he clasped her hand, and brought it up to his chest where their fingers twined. “I know it’s a strange time to talk of it, lass. What with the future being so uncertain, and enemies outside the castle walls. But I think we’d do well together. You love adventure as I do. And I would know better than to earn your ire lest I find myself eating a poisoned stew. Though, given your cooking, I’m not sure I could tell the difference—
ooof!
”

She struck him on the shoulder, which broke the tension, and they both laughed together before the seriousness of the moment overtook them again. “What are you saying, Davy? Are you asking me to wed?”

“I am,” he said, but then exhaled a low and rueful breath. “I am offering a proper church wedding. My name. My vow. My heart. But I don’t think you should accept. Not if you could be happy as Malcolm’s mistress. Because he can give you bairns. A family in truth, if not in the eyes of the church. Whereas I can only give you…myself. But choose you must, and choose swiftly before the two of us come to blows.”

“I can’t choose,” Arabella cried upon her sister’s shoulder.

She had expected her sister to react with anger when she told the tale of how she had given her maidenhead to two warriors. But given Heather’s fall from grace, perhaps she was the least likely person of all to judge Arabella harshly.

Instead, she held Arabella tightly in her arms, stroking her hair, and wiping away her tears. “Malcolm?” Heather finally asked. “
Really
?”

“What do you mean?” Arabella sniffed.

Heather heaved a sigh. “I might understand an infatuation with Davy. He’s more like you than not. But
Malcolm
, that scarred, unsmiling brute?”

Arabella stiffened, defensively. “Don’t ever say that about him. You don’t know him.” A surge of protective love flowed through her. “You don’t know how deep his thoughts run, how sincere his convictions.”

“You speak very passionately about him,” Heather said.

She did. Did that mean Malcolm was her choice?

Arabella sobbed, wishing she could make sense of it.

“What a fortunate girl you are,” Heather finally said.

“Fortunate?” Arabella cried into a kerchief. “I love Malcolm. And I love Davy. Either man I choose, I will be hurting the other. My heart hurts. It actually
hurts
. It feels as if it is being torn in two.”

“That is because two very strong men are pulling upon each side,” Heather said. “But how many girls are ever presented with such a choice? How many girls can say that they are loved by not one man, but two?”

That made Arabella hiccup with surprise. She hadn’t thought of it that way. And now that she did think of it in this way, she felt like an ungrateful wretch. She’d known pleasure and excitement and happiness beyond anything her imagination could have conjured up, even on her long walks in the wild. If she died tomorrow, she would not regret a moment of being with either of the Macrae clan warriors. She certainly would not regret being with
both
of them.

“Heather, you didn’t seem nearly as scandalized as you should have been, when I told you what I did with them. Did you know such things were possible?”