His Bonnie Bride (15 page)

"Thank ye, sir, but that is not what I meant. There is something more behind this game ye play."

Alex sighed. "Aye, on Tavis's part, mostly. There was a lady, though I hesitate to call her such, five years past. Tavis believed he loved her." Alex took note of the expressions that flittered over Storm's face with little surprise. "Having been there once myself, I realize how he saw her as near to a saint. He caught us together. He ne'er blamed me, for he kenned I took only what was offered, but such disillusionment is hard to forget." He smiled gently at her. "However, the past need not cloud our future."

"Storm's future isnae your concern, Alex. M'lady, I think ye lose sight of who ye be, a hostage, not a guest. 'Tis time ye returned to your room."

Storm took one look at blue eyes that were pure ice, making his cold words seem almost warm, and swallowed the angry retort hovering on her tongue. With all the dignity she could muster, she rose, bid good evening to Alex and followed Angus to her room.

From Tavis's point of view, Alex's seduction of Storm had been well under way and succeeding. To his eyes, their smiles, laughter and hushed conversation looked like a brazen flirtation. The occasional glance in his direction he saw as a guilty one. He was sure Storm was succumbing to Alex as women always had.

As he watched her leave after he had spat his harsh words at her, he was fully aware of having offended as well as angered her. The chill in her eyes and her stiff posture made that clear enough. What he was not sure of and what made him oddly uncomfortable was that he had hurt her. There had been a flicker of what he had read as pain upon her face before it had closed to him, a trick of hers that he detested.

"Ne'er known you to have such a heavy hand with the ladies, Tavis," Alexander drawled.

"She is my hostage, not some filly at court ye can dally with at your pleasure."

"She is also your lover," Alex said softly, finding Tavis's possessiveness fascinating.

"Aye, and this is one ye arenae having, MacDubh. Did ye think I would step aside for the night or mayhaps send her to ye with my compliments? There was little to gain from this seduction."

"Actually, I offered to let her await ransoming at our keep. Thought to mention it to Colin."

Tavis gave a harsh laugh. "And of course ye promised to keep your hands off her."

"Nay, I but offered to treat her as the lady she is. That, and the choice of sharing my bed or nay, which I ken you have not done, my friend. You have simply taken, not requested nor waited for an invitation."

"As any man would do with such a prize taken as hostage. She stays here until 'tis time to return her to Hagaleah."

"And when will that be? There is plainly little rush to gain the ransom."

"It'll come e'en if we maun wait for his lordship to return and send it. Then she goes home."

Alex watched Tavis stride away, delivering curt good nights as he left the hall.

The little English lady had the man twisted every which way, but Tavis had yet to see it. Shaking his head, Alex felt a twinge of sympathy for Tavis. The blow he would take from this affair was going to make the one he had suffered over Mary look like the tiniest of bruises. Alex looked up to greet Sholto and Iain with a nod as they joined him.

"That's one he'll nay play the game with, Alex," Sholto said as he sprawled in a chair.

"So I have discovered. What he failed to query was whether or not the lady was playing."

"Was she?" asked Iain.

"Nay, my friend. Not only was I turned down in the most flattering of ways, but the lass caught on to the game and shamed me with it. She sees all too clearly in most respects."

"By the looks of that stiff little back as she left here, there will be a bloody row in the tower tonight," Sholto observed with a laugh. "Shame they took it upstairs, for 'tis a show when they go at it."

"Do neither of them see what is obvious to everyone?" Alex inquired with genuine interest.

Iain sighed. "Nay. 'Tis a shame, but it may not matter when or if they do, for she is Lord Eldon's only daughter, his firstborn, and Tavis is heir to this place. Hardly a match with promise."

When the heavy door shut behind Storm as she stepped into the tower room she let loose with a string of curses in her mother's tongue that was vicious enough to make Angus wince and be thankful that he could not understand a word of it. She could not recall ever having felt so furious with the man who was both her captor and her lover. Her chamber seemed a haven for once; it meant that she was not near him.

Undressing provided some outlet for her anger as she flung her clothing across the room. Yanking on her night rail, she hurled herself onto the bed and glared at the ceiling. With intense relish she imagined all manner of gruesome ends and torments for Tavis MacLagan. It always ended with his begging her forgiveness and her grandly allowing him to have it before he gasped his last. She savored the vision.

Storm knew she had as much pride as any man and Tavis had sorely bruised it with his abrupt dismissal of her. His coldness had also hurt her deeply, but she would never reveal that to him. She had little left to her save her pride and dignity, and he had tried to strip those from her in that brief confrontation. There would have to be a great deal explained before she could forgive that. It had been an unnecessary set-down.

Tavis hesitated as he reached her door. "What mood was she in, Angus?"

"It wasnae pretty. She was saying things in that Irish gibberish and 'tis glad I am I couldnae understand it. She isnae going tae be greeting ye with a smile and open arms," Angus added as he walked away.

For a moment Tavis regretted his actions, for he liked the way she always welcomed him to her bed. It would be the first time they had shared the room with bad feeling between them. Then he recalled how she had been seated so close to Alex, letting him touch her and listening to plans to leave him. He entered the room with his temper renewed, slamming the door after him with a force that reverberated through the room.

"Come to have a talk with your prisoner, sir?" Storm asked coolly as she sat up in bed.

"Nay, I have come to have a wee bit of what ye were offering Alexander MacDubh," he hissed as he approached the bed. "Did ye think ye would have enough strength to service us both?"

The increasing thickness of his accent told her the depth of his anger, but his words infuriated her too much to exercise any caution. "You bastard!" She leapt to her feet and stood upon the bed. "Just who do ye think ye are to talk to me so, to make such accusations?"

"I am the fool that stood watching ye cuddle and plot with that cursed Adonis."

"Cuddle and plot? Cuddle and plot?" She stomped across the bed to glare at him. "I was doing no such thing, ye great fool."

"Nay? Did he nay ask ye to come and stay at his keep?"

"Aye, he asked me." Storm hopped off the bed, moved to the table that served as her vanity and began to brush her hair, an action she favored when she was in a temper. "He asked and I said nay, thank ye very much. There is your plot."

Making a mocking noise, Tavis sat on the bed. "And of course ye gave it nay a thought."

"Oh, aye, I fancy a change," she snapped, furious over his distrust. " 'Tis my aim in life to hop from bed to bed. I have decided to follow in my stepmother's footsteps. After all, what is a little whoring to a woman already dishonored? I think I will see if I can outdo Lady Mary in number and variety. There is a fine goal to set for myself."

"God's teeth, dinnae act the offended one with me," he snarled, sent further into rage by the way she was talking. "Everyone there saw how he couldnae keep his hands off ye and how ye didnae stop him."

"He kissed my palm. I have had my hand kissed before. It means naught and well ye know it."

"And touched your hair as weel as caressed your face. There is nay a common practice."

"Nay, 'tis the act of a practiced seducer. Do not tell me ye did not recognize it," she sneered.

"Aye, I recognized it and I recognized how ye were melting for the rogue as weel. I saw the glaze in your eyes as if ye had been knocked half conscious. Sitting so close and listening to all his pretty lies. Staring into each other's eyes like a pair o' mooncalves. 'Tis nay love he offers ye, lass. The man just wants atween your legs," he snapped. "He wants to ride ye as he has half the lasses in Scotland."

"Do ye think I do not know that?" she asked calmly. "I am not stupid. I know exactly what he wanted."

As Tavis had ranted, Storm had felt her anger leave her. Recalling the story Alex had told her of Tavis's first love, she began to understand his distrust. She also began to see something behind all his anger. For a brief instant, when she had caught his eye in the mirror, she had seen a vulnerable boy.

It was almost laughable to her that Tavis MacLagan, a man as important to her as breathing, was unsure of his ability to hold on to a woman. As she thought on it, she realized that his first love's falseness had probably only been the start, that women had pursued him not just as a man but as the heir of Caraidland. There had always been some motive of greed behind their attentions. It was now perhaps a little difficult for him to believe that a woman could want him only for his worth as a man and be satisfied.

Her problem would be to convince him that such was the case with her without revealing all that she felt for him. Storm saw his vulnerability as a result of wounded pride and a crippled sense of self-worth, but nothing concerning her personally, or the fact that she talked with Alex. Her love for him made her want to help him, but her own pride kept her not wanting him to discover why she wanted only him. She decided physical need was the route to follow.

That brought her to the intricate problem of how to accomplish that. Although she had made no attempts to hide her pleasure in their lovemaking, she was always the relatively passive partner. Her contribution to the act was the gift of her passion. He initiated the loving, directed and controlled it. Mayhaps the only way to prove to him that he was all she desired was to take the lead, to be bold for a change and to make love to him.

Still new at the game, she was unsure of how to do that. Suddenly she felt she knew how. She would simply do to him as he did to her. She would caress him, be as thorough in her explorations as he was. For once she would not let modesty and maidenly shyness hold her back. She was either going to thoroughly disgust him or convince him that it was him alone she appreciated and who could stir her passions.

"The same thing ye wanted quick enough," he groused. "I could see weel enough that ye wanted him."

Moving to stand before him, she said quietly, "Alexander MacDubh is a man to stir any woman's blood."

Tavis scowled, so caught up in his anger that he paid no attention to the way she was undoing his tunic. "Did ye fancy spending the night romping with the lad?"

"There is no denying that he is one of the most beautiful men I have ever seen." She unlaced his shirt.

He frowned absently as he watched her. "Would ye have me believe ye felt naught for him?"

"Nay. Ye would not believe me an I said so." She felt him tense beneath her hands. "That man is so perfectly beautiful that he stuns a person. Everything about him is perfectly suited for the seduction of a woman. Soft, beguiling eyes, perfection of face and form, a voice that caresses like the most skillful hands."

"What are ye about?" he snapped as she bent to remove his shoes, piqued at the way she spoke so fulsomely of Alex.

"I am undressing ye, you silly man," she said calmly.

Grabbing her by the arm, he growled, "Are ye verra sure ye are undressing the right man?"

Letting her free hand roam over his bared torso, she murmured, "I was a little tempted to see if he had all he should have as his outward perfection of appearance quickly bred some skepticism."

Releasing her arm, he ran his hand through his hair. "Curse ye, I ken what I saw. Ye wanted him."

Bending closer, she traced his frowning lips with her tongue. Her fingers hesitated before unlacing her gown, for she had never boldly revealed herself to him. He always undressed her. There was also far more light in the room than there usually was. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she strengthened her resolve. She brushed light kisses over his face as she eased off her night rail.

Tavis's breath caught in his throat. It was the first time he had been freely shown her lovely form. He briefly forgot Alexander MacDubh and the jealousy he refused to recognize as he looked his fill at her supple figure. His hands began to reach for her when he recalled what they had been talking about, and he hesitated.

"Ye would go to bed with him. They all do," he grumbled huskily as her lips explored his throat.

"Only if ye tossed me aside and he was there to pick me up. Only an I still had no kin to seek shelter with and had to go to his keep. Aye, Tavis." Her kisses moved to his chest as her fingers unlaced his braes. "I would most like end up in his bed. I have no doubt that he knows how to pleasure a woman as well as ye do."

A groan escaped him when her tongue flicked over the hard nubs of his nipples. His hands buried themselves in her hair when she gently suckled. He was so caught up in that new pleasure that he gave no thought to how she removed his braes, merely lifted his hips to aid her. It was the same when she slid off his leggings, for her lips and tongue were playing over his taut stomach.

Out of all the ladies he had bedded in his life, Katerine had been the most skilled in pleasuring a man, knowing where and how to touch. Never had a lady made use of her mouth. That was a skill usually employed only by the high-priced courtesan. Only once had his frugal soul allowed him to pay out the coin for that pleasure, yet it had not set him on fire as the tiny English lady was now doing. Disgust or shock at her boldness was the very last thing on his mind. He simply wondered how bold she would be. "Do ye think to convince me that ye had no interest in Alex?" he rasped.