Lord of the Isles: International Billionaires VIII: The Scots (26 page)

He’d find a way. Wouldn’t he?

He’d found a way at sea tonight. Found a way to play the hero although he wasn’t. Found a way to save those boys. Found a way to build a team in minutes. Found a way to lead again.

The sick helplessness in his stomach swished and sloshed as he ascended.

He’d done it this time. But what about the next?

Somehow, without his awareness, they’d gotten to the top of the stairs in one piece. Or, he’d say, she was in one piece. He was a mishmash of scattered pieces.

Lovely Lilly turned, her face only a white circle in the darkness. “Are you really okay?”

Her question was easier to hear now that the sea and storm were farther away. Yet it wasn’t easier to answer.

“Let’s go in,” he croaked.

She sighed before turning back to the door and pushing it open, guiding him into his sanctuary.

Standing in the foyer, he shivered. Knowing he couldn’t escape what had happened to him tonight. He brought it right into his place because it was inside him.

The
donas
gazed at him for a second before her mouth tightened. As if he’d disappointed her.

He would. At some point.

And that was the point, wasn’t it? Tonight he’d played the hero and he’d done his duty without making a mistake. But tomorrow, he could do exactly the opposite. He could charge into a situation and lead the way straight into disaster.

He wouldn’t recover if he did that even one more time in his benighted life.

He wouldn’t.

“Let’s get you into the shower.” She pulled on his hand, drawing him to another set of stairs. “Or maybe you’d rather use the hot tub?”

“The shower,” he mumbled.

He’d taken her in the hot tub. A hot, heated coupling that left him content and at ease. He’d taken her in his bed, time and time again. And each time had made him feel like a god. Yet he’d never taken her in his shower, his ultimate escape.

He’d protected that place.

That place in his sanctuary and that place in his heart.

Because she scared him. He loved her with an ache so fierce he sometimes wondered if his heart could contain the emotion. But he also ached with an instinctive unease. Just like his painful realization that he wasn’t anywhere near a hero, he knew he wasn’t anywhere near what Lilly deserved.

“Take this off.” She yanked on his mac and then his drenched T-shirt.

He shivered once more.

“You’re cold.” The delicate line of her blonde brows drew into a frown, like she was mad at the storm for making him cold.

When in reality, it wasn’t the storm outside that chilled him. It was the one within.

Grabbing his hand again, she pulled him into the bathroom. “Take your shoes off and I’ll help you with your jeans.”

He could have said something sexual and teasing, except there was none of that inside him. Not now. Maybe not anymore. Still, he did as she asked and found himself naked in front of her.

In so many ways, he’d become naked in front of her.

Turning from her, his gaze landed on the mirror. The mirror that had turned into a torturous obstacle the moment he’d hung it on the wall. His naked image reflected back at him, telling him the same thing it always did.

Not worthy to be forgiven. Not a true hero. Not a man who deserved to live.

His hand slammed on the glass with a loud slap. The mirror shook, the silver frame with its rose and vine decorations rattled on the wall.

“Hey, hey.” Lovely Lilly grabbed his hand and pulled it to her chest. “You could have broken the glass, you dummy.”

“Let me,” he growled.

Tugging him to face her, she frowned. “You don’t want to break anything.”

Everything inside him was broken. Why shouldn’t he want to break everything around him? Yet he was too crushed to articulate anything.

“Come on,” she said, her voice gentle. “Let’s get you in the shower and you’ll feel better.”

He thought he might laugh at that, but again, he couldn’t summon the will to respond.

She ran her hand up his arm, making goose bumps rise along the wake. Making him realize he was still alive and still had her for now. “Iain?”

“Aye,” he managed to blurt.

“Look at me.”

With weary resignation, he raised his head to meet her gaze.

Her gaze went soft. “You don’t see what I see when I look at you.”

“What?”

She stepped close, so close he caught the wisp of her scent and the heat of her body. Her hands ran down from his shoulder to his own hands and clasped them in a tight grip. “Here’s what I see,” she whispered. “I see a man with a huge heart who can easily be hurt.”

Leaning his head on hers, he grunted.

“I see a man who’ll always try and do the right thing, and then judge himself too harshly.”

“Lilly,” he groaned.

“But this isn’t the time to convince you of what I see.” She stepped away and turned to the shower. Opening the glass door, she turned on the water. “Here we are, love,” she crooned. “Let’s get you in here.”

Love
.

His heavy heart shook inside him, and yet all he wanted now was the water and the heat and the comfort of his place. Stepping in, he closed his eyes and stuck his head into the waterfall and sighed. He still shook inside, but this did feel good, felt like he’d come home.

Instead of letting him be, closing the glass doors and giving him a few minutes to find his armor or perhaps a slice of peace, the
donas
rustled outside the shower.

Iain opened his eyes. “No.”

Flinging the last of her clothes on the floor, she stepped into the shower. Naked, too.

Had she ever been entirely naked with him before?

Had she ever given him everything as he wanted to give to her?

“Hey, you.” She cuddled into his side, her face lifted to stare into his. “You’re okay now. You’re safe.”

That was laughable if he had the energy. He was as unsafe with Lilly as he’d ever been in any firefights as a Marine.

He merely stood. The water slid onto his shivering skin, her heat and warmth spread into his blood. He stuck his head under the water once more because he had no words for what this was doing to him. How he felt like she was tearing him apart and putting him back together again.

Piece by piece.

“Mmm.” She spread her naked palm on his naked shoulder, brushing over his shakes, trailing a streak of heat across his skin. “Mmm.”

He growled. “I’m tired.”

“I know.” Her hand moved to his chest. “I know.”

Did she know what she was doing to him? Did she know she was adding lust into the sick brew of guilt and anger and bitterness simmering inside him?

“Relax,” she murmured, as if that were a possibility with her naked body pressed to his.

Her hand kept meandering across his skin, turning the icy chill of panic into a confusing jumble of desire and fear. “
Donas
.”

She merely gave him another hum and kept touching. And touching.

And touching.

A blaze of hot, torrid fire blew through him, leaving nothing behind but chaotic need. His brain went blank and his body took over. His hands reached out to grasp her arms in a tight grip.

Her hum turned into a yelp.

Pushing her back, he held her against the wet stone wall. He pressed his body into hers, plastering her on the stone, pushing his erection into her belly.

“I thought you were tired.” Her gaze turned dark. Yet not with fear, as he’d half expected. Instead, the wicked creature she was, her eyes went dark with lust.

And love.

He was almost positive that was love he saw in the green and blue. It made him want to weep and laugh at the same time.

Could he be this lucky?

Could he be this cursed?

Before he could figure out which one, she threw her legs around his hips in a clear sign of immediate acceptance.

Of him and of his demand.

His cock slipped right into place and she hummed at him to take what he wanted and needed so desperately.

Jesus. What else could he do with a female demon in his arms?

His first thrust made her arch her head back on the stone. She felt incredible, tight and scalding hot and incredibly right. Leaning his head next to hers, he placed his forehead on the cool rock and thrust again.

She cried out, a sound of pleasure.

Closing his eyes, Iain thrust again. And again.

And again.

All his muscles loosened and yet went taut like a bowstring. His skin no longer shivered with cold fear, rather the length of him, every inch, felt like fired desire. His tingling hands grabbed on to her waist and then her hips and then her arse, pulling and tugging and twisting her to where he wanted her to be.

There. For him.

There.

He surged into her once more and she fell over into her rapture. Lifting his head, he stared at her as her face contorted in pleasure, her eyes drifting shut, her mouth going soft. The little blonde curls trailing along her hairline made her look like an angel come down to save him.

Her body tightened around him one more time and wrenched him back from heaven into his body. Into gritty, harsh urgency.

He pumped and pumped. He set a frantic pace, pushing her into the stone, numb to anything but being a male and needing his woman. Panting, almost blind with desire, he turned his head to the wall, not wanting to show everything to her.

Not yet. Not now.

“Iain,” she whispered into his ear and into his soul. “Let me.”

Her lovely hands came to his neck and then smoothed into his hair. Before he could stop her, she pulled his mouth to hers.

She took everything.

His aching cock plunging into her core. His groans into her open mouth. His past and pain and anger and fear.

She took him all.

Gasping, he poured himself into her, delirious with joy and unspeakably frightened, too.

His body went slack against her, pillowed by her breasts and hips. Her mouth moved along his jaw, murmuring somethings he couldn’t make out.

His harsh breathing filled the quiet as the soft spill of water fell on them both.

H
is big body
slumped on her, the heat of his desire still steaming through her bloodstream, the power of his maleness still pinning her to the stone wall.

Lilly nuzzled into his neck, taking in his scent, taking in his relaxation with a pleased smile. He’d been wound tight, like a too-taut drum ready to crack. But now, all his muscles were loose and lax, and his breathing had slowed into a somnolent drift.

She’d done this for him.

Given this to him.

“We did it again,” he rumbled into her ear, cutting through the sound of the water slicing down upon them.

“We’ve done it plenty of times before,” she teased.

The reality of it was, though, she didn’t think they’d ever done it quite like this time. This time had been special. A bonding beyond anything she’d ever imagined. The fact it had also brought him out of his panic and pain made it that much better.

He lifted his head and she opened her eyes to meet his. The blue of his irises was clear, a sky free of storms. “No condoms,” he said, his mouth going wry. “But ye got that handled, I reckon.”

“You reckon right.” Her period should come in the next day or two and then everything would be fine. She didn’t want to ruin this amazing moment with him by introducing any doubt. The man had been through a rough night, he didn’t need any further disturbances.

Which reminded her. What had happened out there in the sea to make him so agitated?

“Do you want to talk?” She peered at him.

He laughed, a hoarse, choking sound that echoed in the shower. His body tensed against hers. “Naw. Not now.”

Big hands smoothed over her butt and thighs, before he eased off her and out of her. It was a withdrawal, but not the kind he’d done before. This was a gentle pulling away, not a retreat behind a wall of rejection. Her hands slipped across his brawny shoulders and she gave him a soft smile filled with acceptance.

He stepped back, his hands fisting. A frown crossed his straight brows. “
Shite
.”

“What?” Her smile dropped. “What’s wrong?”

“I pummeled ye against the hard stone.” His voice dripped with self-disgust.

Dropping her legs from around his waist to the wet floor, Lilly gave him another smile, this time a reassuring one. “I loved every single second.”

He took another step back, his frown turning into a scowl, a sign he wasn’t convinced. “Ye likely will be bruised. Goddammit.”

A sigh went through her. For the rest of her life with this man, she was going to have to spend quite a bit of time easing his
responsibility
boulder off his shoulders. The realization coursed through her, along with the sure knowledge she was more than up to the task and more than willing to take on the challenge.

If he wanted her to.

The memory of her pain at dinner tonight, her pain that he hadn’t confided, hadn’t let her in, threatened to rush back and overwhelm this moment. But she wanted to give to this man. She wanted to give to him until he was well and whole and right. Even if, at some point, he didn’t want her gifts anymore.

He didn’t want to talk, as usual.

Okay.

She’d have to find some other kind of distraction.

The water was still hot, and the steam coated his muscles with a sweet, misty gleam. He stood in front of her, his shoulders wide, his chest hair damp and curly, his abdomen taut and defined. His strong thighs were hairy, too, and his calves curved down into a pair of sturdy feet.

“Like what ye see, lovely Lilly?” His voice went from surly to sultry, and she rejoiced that with one comprehensive glance, she’d accomplished her goal.

She pulled her gaze from his big feet to his big cock.

Yep. He was definitely distracted.

“I sure do,” she cooed. “Come here, Your Majesty.”

With one step, he pressed her whole body on the shower wall. He stilled, his brows furrowing again.

She wanted none of that.

Grabbing his biceps, she twirled them both around until his back was to the stone. “This time, I’m going to pummel you.”

His eyes lit with immediate interest. “Are ye, then?”

“Yes, I am,” she promised. “You just stand there.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Lounging on the shower wall, he gave her a smirk.

The smirk made her even more determined to distract this man right into oblivion.

He’d never forget this night. Not because of what had happened at sea, but because she was going to blow his mind.

And something else.

They’d played with different positions. He’d taken her from behind and had her on his lap. Yet for some reason, neither of them had gone down on the other. Maybe he didn’t do that, and she hadn’t felt confident enough with him to initiate. Now, though, after the lovemaking of a few minutes ago, confidence zoomed through her system.

She grabbed the brown bar of soap and held it in front of him. “See this?”

“Aye.” His smirk grew sly. “It’s my soap.”

“What did you say about it?” She tapped the bar on her chin, letting the tease settle around them. “Something about oil and moisturizing?”

“Aye.” This time the word was husky.

Lilly glanced at him and decided to risk a question. If he got all uptight, she’d merely switch back to her sexual teasing. “Why is this soap important to you, Iain?”

His mouth puckered and his eyes went dark.

Crap. “Never mind—”

“Naw.” He shifted under the water, the muscles of his arms and chest growing rigid. “I’ll tell ye.”

She teeter-tottered in indecision. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” He reached out and grabbed the bar from her hands. “This was the soap my team used.”

“Team?”

“My men.” Staring at the soap, his nostrils flared as if he found the scent too hard to take in. “We all used it as a sign of unity.”

“So you still use it to remember them.”

He glanced up and the tortured look in his eyes told her he’d had enough of this topic. She needed to lighten the mood. And yet, she was glad she’d asked the question. Because Iain had been willing and able to tell her something about his past that was obviously a painful memory.

Trust. That was a sure sign of trust.

“Hey.” She snatched the bar from his hands and gave him a sexy grin. “I think I was about to use this on you.”

“Use the soap on me?” His eyes lightened and his mouth turned sly again, much to her relief. “What do ye mean by that, lass?”

“Let’s see.” She lathered the soap in her hands while running her gaze over his big body. “There are so many places I could start.”

His smirk flashed. “Go wherever ye want. I’m not complaining.”

Chuckling, she slipped her soapy hands across his wet shoulders, before letting them drift across his chest, tweaking his nipples.

He grunted, keeping his gaze pinned on her face, the smirk sliding off his own.

Lilly curled her lips. “Let’s wash this off now, so I can do other things.”

“Other things?”

She sliced the water over his body and leaned in to nibble.

His grunt turned into a groan.

The nipples went tight under her mouth, and his chest heaved under her hands, before going still in a breathless hold.

“Lilly,” he whispered above her.

In response to his unspoken plea, she bit one nipple and twisted the other.

He arched in surprise, gasping out his pleasure at her aggression. He moaned a mumbled curse. Before he could find his brain again, she smoothed her hands down his sides to his waist and then around to his pelvis.

His cock surged into her hands, his hips pumping off the stone wall in an instinctive entreaty.

She kneeled in front of him.

“
Donas
,” he croaked in surprise.

Looking up, she met his dazed stare.

She smiled.

“
Shite.
” His mouth went slack. “You’re determined to destroy me, aren’t ye?”

Destroy his agony, decimate his regrets, drive away his ghosts.

Leaning into him, she placed a string of kisses from his hip, over the front of his thigh, down to his scars.

“Ah, Jesus,” he sighed above her.

Her lips and tongue traced each ridge of pain. She let her fingers run across the coarse hair of his calves, past the sharp cut of his knees, up to where her mouth touched his torn skin.

His hand came to cup her head. “I need ye. So much.”

With one last kiss to make him better, she switched her attention to his straining cock. One of her hands cupped him, too—rolling his balls in her grasp as her lips puckered around the head.

“Ah!” He tensed and his hips bucked.

The taste of him, salty and thick, coated her tongue. Lilly moved her mouth on the head and then down the length of him. Over and over. More and more. Pummeling him with pleasure.

He went incoherent.

He gasped and groaned. He muttered incomprehensible syllables while his hands fisted her curls in a hard grip. His body went as stiff as his cock before arching in a mindless rhythm into her.

“I can’t,” he panted. “I can’t stop—”

She didn’t want him to stop. She didn’t want him to hold back anything. She wanted everything of him.

Pulling him deep into her mouth and throat, she sucked hard.

His cry of complete release filled the stone and glass sanctuary. A cry of helpless need and fiery desire.

The cry of a man who’d fallen apart and been put back together by a woman.

By her.

* * *

L
illy slept so intensely
, in a curled bundle, her blonde curls fluffed around her face, her delicate hands fisted by her pretty mouth.

Iain brushed one curl from her cheek, letting his fingers linger in the softness. In the quiet light of early morning, her hair shone, a mix of cream and sunshine, a fusion of soothing warmth and exuberant joy.

The exact combination she gave to him when he most needed her.

He’d fallen apart last night, torpedoed by expectations, both his and his people’s. He’d taken on the role he’d left behind in the sands of Arabia out of necessity. A role he’d thought he’d never go near again. But there’d been no one with his skills and no one who could do the job as he could. He’d known that in one quick instant, with only a few short questions. So he’d done it.

Been a hero.

Iain, you did it. You saved them.

Tracing a rough finger along her tender mouth, he remembered her words, the punch of them straight to his gut. He remembered the shock of entering the hall to find a cheering crowd. The immediate claustrophobia clawing at his control. The present had merged with the past, bringing back the memories of how his men had cheered when they’d accomplished a hard-won victory. The memories of their dead bodies surrounding him. The memories of the horrific meetings with their grieving parents when he’d been released from the hospital and had dragged himself across England and Scotland to do his duty to his men’s families.

The past and present and future had robbed him of breath, stolen his mind, flung him around, and overwhelmed him with grief and stricken realization.

He’d been a hero once more.

He’d also remembered it could go wrong, did go wrong.

She shifted, murmuring low. The line of her brows furrowed like some slight ghost had whispered through her dreams.

Leaning down, he kissed her forehead.

She’d saved him last night just as surely as he and the team of men he’d picked had saved those lads. If she hadn’t taken him by the hand and led him to his castle and his sanctuary and immeasurable pleasure, he’d have slid down the mountain of despair and straight back into the whiskey and his own personal hell.

He had no interest in whiskey. No interest in despair.

Because of Lilly. And also because of himself.

He needed to get well for her, but also, for himself.

Throwing off the covers, he jumped from the bed and padded into his den. He switched on his laptop and sat on the rough oak chair, not caring about the cool wood on his naked arse.

He needed to make some changes.

He needed to find a way to get well.

Last night proved to him he had a long way to go before he’d conquered all his nightmares. And he needed to conquer them before he could offer himself to her.

Skimming through various websites, he hit on one connection after another until he found what he thought he’d need. In-house treatment for six weeks, then twice-weekly counseling sessions he could easily fit in between the plans he had for his islands.

He needed to show her he was worth saving. Worth sticking with for the future.

“You’re up early.” Her voice came quietly from the arch of the bedroom.

Flipping the laptop shut in an instinctive move, he twisted around.

Her curls were squashed on one side of her face and in a whirl on the other side. She’d thrown on one of his many T-shirts and it covered her down to her elbows and almost her knees. Her sea-green eyes were still blurry with sleep.

A fervent, intense reverence for her washed through him, so strong he nearly cried out. The feeling swept into him, making his heart buzz with love.

She deserved the best.