Highland Moonlight (29 page)

protruding roundness of her belly. “‘Tis my bairn too. I will not allow anyone

to harm him or you.”

“If he is not born with the look of you upon him, they will always doubt

me.”

“I do not doubt ‘tis my bairn, Mary.” His arms tightened around her. “I

am certes I am the only man you have ever lain with.”

She turned to face him. The fire had died down and the darkness of

the room prevented her from being able to read his expression. “How do

you know that, Alexander?”

He fell silent a moment. “There is honor in you, an honor that runs

bone deep. You would not promise another man’s child to me. You would

not have stood by me before the council and claimed me as a husband

otherwise.” His hand found her cheek. “I have never doubted you, lass.”

Overwhelmed with relief, she felt the sting of tears burn her eyes.

“Sleep now. There is much to do on the morrow and you are tired,” he

said as he rubbed her back and eased her close against him.

****

from behind. One of his arms lay beneath her head then folded down

across her breasts, the other lay about her waist. For sleep-dulled

moments, she remained content in the security of his embrace.

“Did you know your ear is the color of the inside of a shell where the

light touches it?” he asked, his voice husky. “The curve of your cheek is

touched by the same color.” His fingers trailed against her cheek.

She turned onto her back to look up at him as he braced an elbow on

the bed and rose above her. Early morning sunlight filtering through the

shutters high in the east wall played along his features and bathed his skin

with gold. “Have you become a poet now, Alexander?” The strong curve of

his jaw appeared more boldly masculine darkened by the stubble of beard.

“A lover, lass.” His pale amber gaze settled on her. “It has oft been my

wish to hold you like this and know I could gaze upon you at my leisure.”

She caught her breath with the piercing pleasure the admission

brought her. She had never dreamed he had felt like that about her, or ever

could.

She raised her hand to his cheek testing the texture of his beard.

Alexander’s eyes turned a wolfish gold and he brushed his lips against her

palm. A wondrous tempting feeling raced through her, sparked as much by

the way he looked at her as the touch of his lips against her skin. She

wondered if he could recognize those feelings in her face as easily as she

could read them in his. Could he see her love for him?

The bairn moved between them and Alexander changed his position

so he could rest a hand against her abdomen. The instant eruption of

movement beneath his touch had his gaze rising to her face.

“Does it bring you pain when he behaves as though he will kick his

way out?”

She smiled. “Nay, ‘tis not painful. He is just stretching a wee bit just as

you or I do when first we awake.”

Alexander slid downward, his gaze intent on the movements. He

whispered soft Gaelic words against her skin. His whiskers tickled and

Mary giggled and wriggled away.

His grin grew devilish as he looked up at her. “I was having a serious

word with the bairn on your behalf, Mary.”

She laughed again. “About what, my lord?”

“About treating you kindly along the journey the two of you are traveling

together.”

His gaze settled on the darkened peaks of her breasts and his

expression grew more intent. He dipped his head and latched onto one of

the nipples with gentle suction.

The rasp of his tongue against the tender peak made her catch her

breath as instant pleasure trickled down her body to settle in the center of

her being. His fingers took the place of his mouth as he raised his head to

look down at her, his tawny gaze gold with heat.

“I can not touch you enough, nor ease my hunger for the taste of you,

nor ease my need to be inside you, Mary.”

His words sparked feelings within her making her hot and wet with

wanting him. She ran her palms over his broad chest and slipped her arms

around his neck to draw him down to her. “Come break the fast and we will

find our ease together, Alexander,” she invited.

His lips captured hers with a tempting sensuality that danced down

her body, leaving a delicious lassitude in its wake. She captured the hungry

thrust of his tongue within her mouth and sucked on it. He eased closer and

his erect manhood brushed her thigh.

Alexander’s hand settled on the lightly furred curve of her Mons,

tempting but not touching. Her thighs fell apart and her body rose toward the

pressure of his hand, seeking his caresses. The feather light touch of his

fingertips found the sensitive jewel, sparking a sensation that made her

hungry for the thrust of his body.

He turned bringing her atop him. His palms rubbed, restless and

eager, up and down her back. She smoothed the rumpled thickness of his

hair back from his forehead as she looked down into his face. She traced

each rugged feature and gazed into the pale gold of his eyes searching his

expression for more than the desire that awakened his body. The tender

smile playing about his lips reassured her.

Her thighs hugged his hips, the most vulnerable heart of her poised

above him. She touched her lips to his briefly, drew back, and then returned

to trace the parting of his lips with her tongue. His lips parted and her

tongue delved forward to meet his.

His hands gently cupped and squeezed her buttocks as his tongue

slithered and danced with hers for endless moments. Mary’s hand moved

between them to grasp the tempting length of his manhood. She ran her

fingers up and down as her lips found his earlobe and she sucked on it.

“Mary—”, Alexander whispered her name, a tremor racing through his

body.

She eased downward, guiding him to nest deep inside her. The

closeness she felt to him in those moments, when their bodies met and

became one, was like nothing else she had ever known. It happened every

time they made love. The joining of their flesh and the giving of her heart

were the same. She hoped it was so for him.

Her lips sought the strong pulse in his throat. She began to move up

and down in a slow steady rhythm. Thrusting upward beneath her,

Alexander deepened the contact and her pleasure. The titillating torment

began to build. She felt him in and around her. The brush of his skin, the

taste of his lips, the musky male scent of his body, fed her desire. The

feverish need for fulfillment drove her to quicken her pace. The ragged

sound of their breathing remained the only sound in the room as they

labored toward completion.

Mary tilted her hips forward deepening the contact, pressing down on

him. The sweet pleasure of her release taunted her, making her catch her

breath as she hung on the edge for countless moments. The wave of

sensation overtook her, rising to a peak, rushing like wildfire through her

body. The answering throb of Alexander’s response heightened the feeling

of completion.

After a time, she moved to lie beside him. She rested her head on his

shoulder and pressed close against his side. The longing to hear him

speak some word of affection in the moments following their lovemaking,

lay like a knot of tears in her chest.

“Do you know if you have sired any other children, Alexander?” she

asked, the question springing from her feelings of insecurity.

“Nay, lass. There are no others.”

“With all the lasses you have known, how can you be certes?”

“Would they not have bid me claim them if I had?” he reasoned.

“‘Tis a wonder that you gave me a bairn so easily then.”

He turned to look down at her, his brows drawn together in a frown.

“‘Twas conceived because ‘twas meant to be,” he said.

Her gaze rose to his face. “In truth you believe that?”

“Aye, I do, Mary.” He nodded. His tawny eyes swept her face with a look

of possessive pride.

She fell silent for a moment, her thoughts returning to the first time

they met. He had ridden through the gates with his men during the start of a

hunt. Amid the noise and confusion of the event, she had felt the strange

prickling sensation of being watched. She had turned to look into the face of

a man on horseback only a short distance from the steps. The hard

masculinity of his features had been almost beautiful to her. She had felt

both excited and frightened by the way he had looked at her. Just the way he

was now. His body, large and muscular, had moved with the easy grace of

a warrior as he had dismounted and climbed the steps of the hall to join

her.

Mary drew her attention back to the present for she found a certain

sadness in looking back at a past that could never be recaptured. “‘Tis

seldom a lass may claim ownership of her guidesman in the way men

claim your wives, Alexander. You may only be owned if you wish to be, and

rarely as completely as are we.”

He raised one brow and shrugged his broad shoulders. “‘Tis the way

of it, lass.”

Her gaze narrowed. “One would wonder if you would feel so

complacent if the tide was turned, my lord.”

A wicked grin split his face with the gleam of teeth, even and strong.

“‘Twould not be such a hardship, I’d wager, my lady. I would still find great

pleasure in serving you. “ He drew her close against him, his hand trailing

with slow attention down her spine to her buttocks.

“‘Twould seem you are destined to have what you will, one way or

another,” she complained though she leaned into him of her own accord as

tendrils of desire nipped at her.

“Aye.” He nodded with exaggerated satisfaction. “‘Tis grand, indeed.”

****

guided her down the front stairs from the great hall. “Do not open your eyes

yet.” He grasped her hands and held them firmly lest she trip.

A smile worked its way across her lips tempting him to stop and

sample the taste and feel of her lush mouth.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked, her eyes remaining closed.

“‘Twill only be a league or two we must travel,” he teased.

“Would we not be able to cover the distance more quickly if I opened

my eyes?”

“Nay, lass. ‘Tis not necessary.” He settled his hands on her

shoulders. “You must stand very still.”

She nodded. He marveled at the trust she showed him now, when

before she would hardly turn her back on him. He motioned for Cory to bring

forward the gift from the stables.

“Open your eyes, lass,” he murmured close to her ear.

“Oh–” With surprise and confusion evident in her expression, she

extended her hand to the black mare before her and allowed her to nuzzle

her glove. Though nearly as tall as his own gelding, the horse had a lighter

build. She stood proud and still as Mary stroked her forehead.

“We shall ride slowly about the village and outlying areas of the glen.

‘Twill give you ample time to get acquainted with your new mount.”

Her brows rose and her lips once again shaped a surprised oh as

she eyed the horse with greater interest. She ran a hand down the animal’s

glossy black neck. The mare nuzzled the edge of her cloak and nibbled at it.

Mary laughed and drew the fabric away from her. She spoke softly to

her as she circled the animal.

“She be a bonnie, lass, eh, Lady Mary?” Cory said, smiling as he

watched her.

“Aye, Cory, she is,” she agreed as she stoked the diamond shaped

white spot on the mare’s wide brow.

“The Laird himself has been training her for you.”

Mary’s gaze returned to Alexander.

“‘Tis important she be well behaved if you are to be riding her,” he

said. Would he soon grow used to the smiles she gave him each time he

did something that pleased her? He hoped not.

“Will you give me your hand, so I might mount, Alexander?” she asked.

He cupped his hands and gave her a boost into the saddle. Watchful

of the mares every move, he stepped back as Mary accepted the reins Cory

handed her and set her foot in the side saddle’s stirrup.

“Take a turn about the stable yard for a wee time, Mary. I would see

how she rides beneath your touch instead of mine,” he instructed.

She nodded and kicked the animal lightly sending her forward. He

watched the horse’s response to her every move.

“She be a good rider, for a woman, eh m’lord?” Cory said from beside

him.

“Better than you know. Put her astride a horse in a man’s saddle, and

she’ll best even some of the men,” he said, remembering the mad race to

Lorne Castle.

One of the stable lads brought forth his horse saddled and ready.

Mounting the gelding, he rode forward and joined Mary. “We will stay close