Captured by a Laird (16 page)

A loud knock on the door and the scrape of a key in the lock alerted the lovers to the approach of Fogert. Lena tried to leap from the bed, scrabbling around for her gown, but a vice-like grip on her arm halted her actions.

“Stay where you are,” Stref ordered.

“He’ll kill you!” Lena protested.

“Your confidence in my abilities never fails to offend me,” Stref drawled, pulling her into the muscled length of his torso.

Drawing the covers over her dignity, Lena tried to mask her face into a neutral expression as Fogert entered the room, closely followed by several burly guards, each with their weapons drawn. They stopped short as they sighted the couple lounging in the bed, obviously in post-coital euphoria.

“What is the meaning of this?” Fogert demanded.

“Fogert, I was just paying my wife a visit. I thank you for caring for her in her recent ill health. Tiny and the other men from Rwenor were most grateful for the way you took charge of the situation.”

Lena looked at Fogert as Stref spoke. She noticed how his face reddened and a pulse twitched at the side of his temple.

“Your wife?” he spluttered. “You and she never…well, you never…did you?”

“As you can see, we are wed in every way that matters, and now that I have seen that my wife is fit to travel we will return to Rwenor to await the birth of our child.”

“How do you know it is your child?” Fogert spat, a look of spite causing his face to twist into a grotesque expression. “From what I heard she has been the whore of every laird in the Highlands.”

Stref moved so fast that Lena was only aware of a blur of colour. His plaid swung as he reached Fogert and twisted the weapon from his grasp. The guards could do nothing but watch as their laird was turned around and the blade placed against his neck.

“I think my wife is owed an apology.”

Fogert paled as he mumbled a string of excuses and a request that Lena forgive him for his behaviour. Lena nodded as she watched Stref lower the blade.

“Now, my wife and I require some privacy. It has been a long time since I saw her, you understand,” Stref leered with a slow wink at Lena. “We will be departing shortly. Please pass on my thanks to your own lovely wife, if she is not too busy with the servants.”

Lena’s cheeks flushed with the familiar crimson that Stref Harris seemed to evoke in her. She averted her eyes as the men filed from her room, leaving her alone with Stref again. This time tension filled the air. So much was unsaid between them, so much needed to be resolved. Lena opened her mouth to speak as Stref pulled his plaid and let it drop to the floor. Her mouth remained open but the only sound that came out was a strangled cry.

“Nothing like an altercation to put some life back into the loins,” he said, his desire evidently returning with gusto.

Lena lowered her eyes shyly.

“Now you are a timid maiden?” he laughed. “I think we are beyond that now, lass. Come here.”

Lena rose and allowed the covers to fall. She walked gracefully across the room to where Stref stood watching her. His eyes lowered to her rounded abdomen.

“May I?’ he asked, now his turn to be timid.

Lena’s heart was lost at his shy request. She nodded, then took hold of his hand and placed it on her tight skin. “Sometimes I can feel it moving here,” she said.

Stref’s face lit up as Lena felt a fluttering inside her. “It is your child,” she said quietly.

“You had no need to speak those words,” Stref replied. “I know the truth.”

This time when their lips met, tenderness had replaced the frenzied passion. Their tongues danced together with a slow rhythmic pace as their hands traced the contours of each other’s bodies. Lena’s touch moved over every defined muscle of Stref’s upper body. She circled his dark nipples and flicked her fingers over them. Stref traced a pattern over Lena’s raised stomach before cupping her rear and pulling her closer. Lena moved into him willingly. She craved the hardness of his strong lines and to feel the strength of his protection.

“Ah, my love, your skin is so soft against me,” Stref cooed. “I could stroke its supple beauty all day.”

Lena trembled at the softly spoken words. Stref had called her “his love!” Her heart jumped at the realisation that this giant man was hers for the taking. His words made her bold.

“Since when did I become your love?” she teased as she traced her hands down to the hard rod that lay between them. It twitched at her touch, and Stref moaned as she tentatively explored its impressive girth.

“Stop talking,” he growled.

Lena stilled her hand. “When?” she persisted.

“When I came into that room and saw you looking flushed like you’d just been with a man.” He moved his hand over hers to encourage her to continue. Her hand closed around the warm shaft, and her finger flicked lightly over the globe of moisture that had settled on its tip. Using a strong and steady pace, Lena pumped Stref’s manhood.

“What about you?” he gasped.

“I don’t recall confessing my love,” she gently mocked. “But since you ask, your first words sent ripples through me like nothing I had felt before. I liked the way you stood up to me,” she admitted quietly.

Stref froze; then with a low roar, he threw his head back and swore. His voice was heavy with desire and Lena felt empowered to continue her delicious assault. She had always known she had power, but this kind of effect upon a man felt intoxicating. Lena dropped to her knees and looked up through her thick lashes at the surprise that crossed Stref’s handsome face. Her tongue circled the shaft that seemed to move towards her like a fixated snake. Lena opened her mouth and took in the length before her. Her throat baulked at the sheer size that had entered her, but Stref’s cries of delight urged her onwards. Simulating the act that Lena craved, she mated her mouth with Stref’s rigid manhood. His hand gripped her hair and pulled her closer; it was as if he wanted to sink his whole self deep within her.

Lena pulled back and looked again at the warrior who stood so vulnerably in front of her.

“Take me,” she begged as his eyes darkened until they were like black flints.

Lena lay herself down on the floor and parted her legs invitingly. Stref’s string of expletives left her in no doubt that his control lay almost at breaking point.

He lowered himself on top of her and filled her as his weight bore down on her. Lena gasped at the suddenness of the sensation that overtook her. He angled his body so that he thrust upwards, his groin stimulating her tender nub as he drove deeper and harder. Lena gasped as, once again, her body surrendered to his and her orgasm ripped through her with ferocious intensity.

Still Stref rutted. He filled her again and again, his eyes dancing with lustful desire as she gasped his name over and over. Eventually, just as Lena felt she could take no more, Stref’s massive form convulsed. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as his passion soared, and then was spent. Again, a foul word escaped his lips. This time it was a long drawn out sound that smacked of utter contentment.

Lena’s eyes filled with unshed tears as the heavy weight of her lover fell upon her. She shifted slightly, aware of the life that dwelt within her. Stref cocked his head as if realising their position. He leapt up and cradled Lena in his arms.

“Have I harmed you?” His voice was etched with concern.

Before she had a chance to respond, Stref carried her to the bed as if she weighed no more than a child. He tucked the soft skin covering around her and rested on the bed with his big, clumsy hand on her hair. Lena appreciated the comforting strokes that ensued.

“Well, we can’t stay here forever,” Stref noted. “Pleasant as it may be. I imagine Fogert will want to see the back of us.”

Lena giggled as she imagined the laird’s anger at Stref’s intrusion. “Just how did you get past all the guards?” she asked.

“One thing you’ll need to know about me,” Stref explained, “is that I canna be stopped when I have a mind to do something. Fogert’s guards must have seen my determination to get to the mother of my bairn.”

“Is that all I am?” Lena felt her eyes open wide as she looked at Stref with concern.

“Nay, lass, you are that and so much more,” he replied. “Now, get some clothes on before I forget that I came here to rescue you.”

It didn’t take Lena long to ready herself, although she managed to blush furiously at the blatantly sexual look that Stref shot her when he observed her low-cut dress.

“Not your usual attire?” His voice was laced with amusement.

“I…er… Sarah let me use it,’ Lena stammered.

“I think I like it, although I will like it better when I come to remove it later.”

If Lena’s cheeks could have become any redder, they surely would have at that moment. She turned away tingling with anticipation at the thought of what later may bring; then cursed herself, using one of Stref’s choice words, at the way the Laird of Harris had her acting like a simpering child.

“Come on then,” Lena snapped as Stref’s mocking laugh followed her from the room and out to glorious freedom.

Chapter Twenty-Three

In the end, the might of the combined forces of Harris and Rwenor had convinced Forgert to be reasonable. He knew that for all Haigh’s cruel dominance, even he would not risk war against the three clans united. Under the watchful eyes of Sarah and Lena, the two men had struck a fragile alliance. Archon was to be bundled back to his aunt and the look of pure joy on his face when he said his goodbyes was evident to all. Sarah vowed to come and help Lena with some gowns, and the tone was quite merry by the time Stref and Lena departed.

Val’s welcoming face greeted them as they approached the gates of Rwenor. Stref grinned back. He had hardly stopped smiling since being reunited with Lena. Despite the predicament that they could well be in, Stref was finding it hard to remain focussed on the matters in hand. The sight of Lena’s blossoming form, rising and falling as her horse traversed the landscape had his mind firmly fixed on other things.

Stref could tell by the amused look in Val’s eyes that he had correctly assessed their reunion.

“Thank you for returning her safely to us,” Val said warmly as he shook the younger man by the hand after he had dismounted. “It is a comfort to see her and hear the sound of the golden eagle return to us. Our fortune is indeed restored.”

“It was my pleasure.” Stref allowed his mind to linger on the pleasure it had been.

“I was perfectly able to leave whenever I pleased,” Lena’s voice cut in.

Val pulled her into a fierce embrace. “If this young laird did not come and fetch you, lass, I would have.”

Stref watched with interest at the demonstration of love between the pair. He decided that he must ask Lena later why their bond was so close. Since Lena’s hasty retreat from their wedding, Stref had made a few inquiries about the girl he knew almost nothing about. He had been interested to hear the story of a warrior child who had been the pride and joy of her father and who had been paraded from croft to croft to demonstrate her archery skills. The slip of a girl was reported to be able to shoot the hair from a head at fifty paces. Stref had seen for himself the accuracy of her bow, although his heart went out to the child that had craved the love of her father, and who had trained tirelessly to earn his approval.

Stref shook his head as his thoughts returned to the present. Lena and Val stood looking at him with strange and puzzled expressions.

“Is a hero not to be offered food on his return?” Stref roared.

Lena laughed and linked her arm in his. “In Rwenor, food is always in good supply. It is what makes us such a target for greedy lairds.”

Stref added his laughter to her own, his heart light at her easy banter. Together they walked to the central meeting place where a fire blazed happily in a crudely dug pit. A large pot sat comfortably alongside a roasting carcass as warriors, wearing the red and gold Harris plaid sat alongside the burly men of Rwenor wearing their dark green. Companionable conversations filtered across the gathering and a jolly ruckus could be heard. Stref saw Lena turn and frown at Val, confused by the camaraderie.

“It seems that Harris men have put an end to the terror that Haigh had wrought upon us,” Val explained. “His men have become part of our lives here, and have been most welcome.”

Stref watched Lena’s face, fascinated by the expressions that played across her open features. She flittered between annoyance, relief, and concern before she turned to Stref with a passive mask.

“It seems we owe you our gratitude,” she spoke formally. “My people seem more at ease than I have seen them since…well, since I…for a long while,” she finished flustered by her garbled words.

Stref raised his hand slightly, a gesture that insisted she didn’t thank him. “Harris men would always defend their neighbours against such as Haigh. We would not see a home burned. It is not our way,” he added in a quiet voice that was meant just for Lena’s ears.

Her response was just as he anticipated, Lena’s cheeks coloured and her eyes looked downcast.

“Save some of that beast for us,” Stref boomed, walking forward as men began to turn and greet their laird.

Lena was engulfed into a crowd of well-wishers and Stref soon lost sight of her. It annoyed him more than he cared to admit that she was not by his side. She had a habit of getting herself into trouble when he was not around to protect her. A large wooden platter piled high with roasted meat was pushed into Stref’s grateful hand, and he threw a piece of the tender flesh into his mouth and chewed. The food touched the taste buds on his tongue with a delicious deluge of flavour. He devoured piece after piece of the succulent fare, and warmed himself by the dancing flames as the juices spilled down his chin.

“You look like a man who has all he wants,” Clyde said as he approached his laird.

A shy looking woman stood behind him, and peeked out with wide eyes.

“You don’t seem to be doing so bad yourself,” he noted wryly.

“Oh, the women of Rwenor are
very
grateful to us for being their protectors. I fear, my Laird Harris, that you may have coupled with the only ungrateful woman in the croft.”