Unlaced by the Outlaw (Secrets in Silk) (27 page)

No, she didn’t know what she would do after this. He was demanding marriage, but she didn’t have to accept his dictates. Though he wanted to protect her from gossiping tongues, she also knew that he wanted to keep her to himself. And she simply didn’t know what would happen to her now.

He took both of her arms and drew them around his neck. “I think you need to be reminded of why we’re meant to be together, Margaret Andrews.”

“I fear I’ve committed so many sins, I can hardly face anyone.” A rush of need flowed over her when his hands moved down against her breasts.

“The only person you have to face right now is me, lass.” He bent and captured her lips, pulling her hips against his. The scalding heat of his mouth shoved aside all of Margaret’s inhibitions. From the moment he kissed her, she melted into him.

It wasn’t a forced seduction. She knew that as she answered his kiss, giving back to him all the desire that roared within her. Cain Sinclair had always been able to reach past her boundaries.

He’d recognized the truth—that she wasn’t at all a good girl. She was good at pretending to be the perfect lady, but after all these years of attempting to wed a nobleman, she realized that her reasons weren’t the right ones. She’d wanted to wed a duke to win her freedom. She wanted to have enough money to never worry about food or shelter . . . and she wanted a man who would be so caught up in his own duties that he’d leave her alone.

Lord Lisford had led her to believe that he possessed all the qualifications she’d wanted. She’d believed his lies that he had feelings for her. Only after he’d abandoned her did she realize that he’d made a fool of her. His estate was debt-ridden, and his only asset was a silver tongue that had spoken the words she’d wanted to hear.

She’d been selfish, and it seemed that Fate had taught her a lesson. Wealth was an illusion, easily lost. And the one man she cared about had no title and hardly any wealth.

After all they’d endured together, she wanted to be with him again, damning the consequences.

Margaret kissed him back, her own hunger rising. Against her throat, she felt him fastening the pearl necklace, in a tangible reminder that she should have held more faith.

Cain’s hands moved over her corset, his hands warming her skin as he unlaced her. “Just once, I’d like to see you in a scandalous undergarment, lass.” But he removed the simple buckram corset, revealing her linen chemise. “Something red with lace.”

“I would be too embarrassed,” she admitted, drawing her arms around his neck. “It’s not who I am.”

“You’re wrong.” He bent to her breast and took her nipple in his mouth, through the linen. Shock and desire seized her, and she gripped his hair. “I ken your secrets, Margaret Andrews. And you like a bit of wickedness.”

She did. All of this was wrong, but she wanted to steal one last moment with Cain. There was time enough for her family’s disapproval and the knowledge that she’d thrown away her virtue. Time enough later to worry about the choices she’d made. But for now, she wanted to give back to him a taste of what he’d given her. She wanted him to be mad with desire, and she wanted to give him the same release he’d granted her.

He reached down to lift her up, and she drew her legs around his waist. “Will you do something for me?” she whispered, knowing that he was already deeply aroused. His hands moved against her bottom, beneath her chemise.

“What are you wanting, lass?”

She took his face between her hands. “I want to touch you. And I want to be in command of you.”

The incredulous look on his face was replaced by a searing look in his eyes. “You can do anything you like, lass. So long as it ends with me inside you.”

Her body responded with an aching between her legs. Margaret caressed a path down his shoulders, and he lowered her to stand before him. Then she took him by the hand and led him to the bed, ordering him to undress and lie on his stomach. His back was still red, but the burn marks were healing. She left him there for a moment, while she searched her belongings for the healing salve the apothecary had given her.

This time, she dipped her fingers into the salve and moved it over his back, working it into his skin. He flinched at a few tender spots, but she continued massaging him, moving her hands toward his shoulders and arms.

She paused a moment to remove her undergarments, and it felt utterly wicked to be naked and touching him. He let out a harsh groan when she sat with her legs on either side of his waist. Skin to skin, her palms traveled over his spine, and she reveled in the power of this.

It was as if he’d unlocked another side of her, and she ordered him to roll over. She adjusted her position until she was seated against his rigid erection. Her hands were slick from the salve, and she slid them from his shoulders to his chest. There was a light dusting of dark hair, and she caressed his chest, touching her thumbs to his own flat nipples.

Cain moved his hands behind his head, watching her with those blue eyes. His black hair fell beneath his shoulders, and she pushed it back, lowering her mouth to his heart.

These past few weeks had been otherworldly, almost as if she had been a different woman. The old Margaret had died in the coach accident, while she’d found a strength she hadn’t known she had. And that new woman wanted to savor the last few moments of being with Cain.

She caressed his ribs, moving lower until her hand reached his shaft. Though she was slightly afraid of touching his thick length, she knew it would drive him over the edge. Slowly, she curled her hand around him, watching his response. His hands moved down to the tangled sheets, gripping them hard. She fisted him, watching as his eyes flared and his hips moved in counterpoint.

“Is that all right?” she asked, wondering if he liked it.

“More,” he ordered. He brought his hand over hers, showing her how to find a rhythm, how to stroke him, until her palm grew slick.

The longer she touched him, the more her own desire grew. She wanted to feel him deep inside her, to thrust and become one with him.

She felt herself transforming into someone else, a woman who abandoned the rules to do as she wanted. And regardless of what unknown future lay ahead, she did want more time with Cain Sinclair. But only if he treated her as an equal, not a woman to be commanded.

When he reached between her legs, she couldn’t stop the gasp that spilled forth. “You ne’er said I couldna touch you, lass.” He caressed the sensitive skin surrounding her opening, rubbing until she grew wet against his hand.

“You’re distracting me,” she accused, clenching her palm against him when he slid a finger inside.

“Challenging you,” he corrected. “To see which of us loses control first.” He kept one finger inside while he used his thumb to rub her hooded flesh. “And I’m going to make you come so hard, you willna remember your own name, lass.”

“You can try.” Margaret gripped him, moving her hand over him from the end of his shaft to the wet tip. Increasing the friction, she heard a growl emit from his throat.

She felt him stroking her from inside, finding a place that made her tighten against his fingers. And without warning, her body began to tremble, the shimmering sensations building higher.

He was right; she was going to lose this battle. But not before she brought him to the edge. She lifted the thick head of him and sat down, sheathing him fully inside her. It was an exquisite tightness, being so filled by him. And his hands moved to grasp her hips.

“No,” she said. “You are mine to take.”

Margaret rose up on her knees, sliding back down in a slow, torturous rhythm. His face tightened as if he were fighting the feelings she’d kindled. She rewarded him by hastening the tempo, rising up and down. Closer, she brought him toward his release, feeling his body grow even harder within her. Her own breathing was ragged, and when he sat up, he grasped her hips. He bent to suckle her, and the sensation of riding him while he tormented her breasts was an exquisite torture. He moved his hand between her legs, and the first release swept over her, causing her to spasm against him.

“You win,” she murmured, slowing the pace once more.

“I always do,” came his response. Then he began thrusting against her as she moved. With his hands, he forced the rhythm to go faster, their bodies pounding while he seized her hips.

“Every night,” he swore. “ ’Twill be like this.”

She said nothing, unable to agree to his demands. Not yet. In the past two days, she had let go of her inhibitions and rules. No longer was she a woman who lived in a glass house where every choice was made for her.

She
had chosen to give herself to Cain, to experience this rush of pleasure. And though he wanted marriage, she was hesitant to agree. She didn’t want to wed a man who believed it was his role to tell her what to do. And Cain was a stubborn Highlander who would undoubtedly have his own ideas about a wife’s place.

No, she preferred to hold on to her freedom a little longer, before she had to face the reality of what she’d done.

She continued riding him, feeling herself moving closer to another release. But before her body could reach another climax, Cain withdrew and turned her around, facing in reverse. Then he guided her hips down and plunged inside once more. The new position drew his shaft against her most sensitive place, and she ground against him, growing even more excited.

The pleasure of being taken like this was more than she could bear. And then he let out a hoarse cry, slamming against her. Again and again, he thrust until she convulsed against him and he found his release.

He held her waist, and she lowered her head, suddenly realizing that he was right about the danger. She could easily bear his child, and likely would, if she continued to lie with him over the next week. It was a sobering thought, one that troubled her.

Her eyes burned, but she forced the words out. “We need to be careful, Cain.”

“If we wed, it willna matter, lass.” His hands moved over her bare breasts, stroking the tips. Her body reacted violently, an aftershock claiming her while he was still buried inside.

Cain withdrew from her, pulling her to lie on her side. The candlelight in the room covered the bed sheets with a golden haze. “You’re going to stay with me each night, lass.” He fingered the pearl necklace around her throat. “And trust that I’ll keep you safe.”

She wanted to believe it could be that easy. But if she wed him, his life would remain the same while hers irrevocably changed. In her heart, she believed that Cain would take care of her. But was it right to bind herself to this man when the two of them were from such different worlds? Would he grow to despise her over the years because she wasn’t the sort of wife he’d imagined? She was a terrible cook, and she knew nothing about keeping a house. The young lady’s education she’d received was utterly useless for a man like Cain.

Her heart was heavy as she tried to sleep beside him. For she could not give him an answer when she didn’t know it herself.

ONE WEEK LATER

The green hills of Ballaloch should have been a welcome sight. After all the traveling they’d done, Margaret wasn’t certain if her family was still in London, but she knew their servants would be there—especially Mrs. Larson, their housekeeper.

“We should go to your house first,” she told Cain. “Jonah will want to see you.” Her nerves were raw and she felt as if her sins were written upon her face. Mother knew her so well, Margaret feared that if Cain brought her home, he would be blamed.

“Soon,” he agreed. “But first, I’ll take you home.” The stony resolution on his countenance made it clear that he would not argue with her on this. He directed Merrill where to drive them, and Margaret steeled herself for what lay ahead. If she was fortunate, her parents might still be away.

But the moment she spied the manor house, she knew they were here. Her father’s carriage was outside the house, and a servant was tending to one of the horses.

“Leave me now, and go see about your brother,” she bade Cain. “I’ll be fine.”

“I won’t leave you to face the storm alone,” he insisted. “We’ve been gone well over a month now.”

She knew he was trying to protect her, but she didn’t want him caught in the middle of her ruin. “If you come inside, they’ll believe the worst,” she insisted. “If I go alone, they will rejoice that I am safe. We can discuss the rest later.”

Cain remained unconvinced, but she insisted. “Please. I know my family, and this is the best way.”

“One hour,” he relented. “And after that, I’ll speak with them.”

If he did, her father would insist upon pistols at dawn. Never in a thousand years would Lord Lanfordshire allow his second-eldest daughter to wed a Highlander.

“I would rather speak to them without bloodshed, Cain,” she said. “Let me come to you later. Besides,” she said, offering a slight smile, “I want to see that your brother is all right.”

He didn’t look happy about the idea, but he agreed to let her go. “If you don’t come, I’ll return for you.”

Margaret didn’t doubt that for a moment.

When the wagon came to a stop, Cain helped her out. He drew out the pearl necklace around her throat, and her skin warmed beneath the gesture. “Go, lass.” Before she could walk up the winding path, he caught her mouth in a light kiss.