The Highlander's Bride (18 page)

Everyone had noticed that Conor had not once asked Laurel to dance. Some inferred that it meant the rumors were true—he did not want her. Others were still not convinced.

The soldiers were debating which of them Laurel had liked the most. In light of Conor’s declarations of noncommitment, they were ready to step into the role of husband and protector. Conor fought to remain calm and unaffected, but when someone mentioned how full and ripe for kissing Laurel’s lips were, Conor lost control.

He did not remember what he had roared to clear the room so quickly. Within minutes everyone had vanished, leaving only Laurel staring at him.

“Stop glaring at me, Conor. It was you who so rudely ordered everyone out of the castle walls. What caused you to act out so? And why must I remain behind?”

“We need to talk.”

Laurel’s mouth tightened. “What about? Your attitude this evening, perchance? You didn’t dance with anyone. You just sat all night looking solemn, refusing to speak with a single person besides Finn or your brothers. I saw how you ignored poor Aileen earlier, driving her to leave early.”

Conor’s mouth twisted humourlessly. “So you noticed me this evening? I thought that near impossible through your crowd of admirers.”

Shock, then outrage overcame Laurel. “Crowd of admirers…? Conor McTiernay, if you have a point, make it quickly before I lose my temper.”

He walked up right up next to her and grasped her arms to keep her from leaving. “What were you trying to do, Laurel? How many men were you hoping to get to ask for your hand? All of them? You may have to call another event and invite the castle guards to ensure that all have seen and been enchanted by your beauty.”

Hot, furious tears burned her eyes. “Well, as long as you are not among them. You are the most insufferable man. I don’t know why I even wanted you here.”

“Why did you, Laurel? Did you want me to see the loyalty you command? Was it important to you that I know how much and by how many you are loved?”

“Loved? Loyalty? Conor, if they respect me at all it is only because of you!” She choked back a sob. “Why are you so angry? We did all of this for you!” She sniffled and whispered, “I wanted to do this for you.” Tears started flowing now.

Conor was undone and wiped the falling droplets of water away with his thumb. “Why would you want to do anything for me, Laurel? I thought you wanted revenge for making you stay at the castle instead of the cottage.”

She looked down and her long dark eyelashes rested against her cheeks. “I didn’t mean it. I just didn’t want to feel any more beholden to you.” She looked up. “But then I saw how I could help you. I could give you your back your castle. I could change it into something befitting your status and make it a place where you could proudly entertain your friends and allies.”

As he looked into her eyes, all the jealousy and resentment that had filled him so completely just moments ago vanished. Her lips were full and moist from her tears. Her eyes were wide and inquisitive, her emotions accentuating their color. The feel of her skin was smooth and cool. The overall effect was intoxicating.

“You did help. I should have done something about the halls a long time ago.”

“Then why were you so angry?”

His voice was deep and affected, husky with desire. “You are mine, Laurel, and it is time I stop pretending otherwise. I do not want other men lusting after you. I found out tonight that the idea of someone else kissing you, touching you, was unacceptable.”

Her mouth opened to respond but was stopped by his own. He kissed her slowly, lingeringly, with a deep, tender possessiveness. It was a soft kiss that told of longing and affection. The sheer emotion behind it made Laurel weak, forcing her to rely on his strength to remain standing. A moan escaped her lips followed by a groan of his own.

Her hands stole up his back and entwined themselves in his hair. She unconsciously held his head down to her own, increasing the fervor of their kiss. He flicked his tongue against her lips, and she immediately opened her mouth and welcomed him in. Capturing his tongue and drawing it into her mouth, she longed for something more. Her lower abdomen was tightening with some unknown need.

The inside of her mouth was warm and welcoming, just as before. He gave a low, frustrated groan before releasing her lips. She arched in his arms, and he started a trail of kisses along her cheek and neck. He inhaled deeply. Her elusive, womanly scent tugged at his insides, arousing a powerful need deep within him.

Never had any woman affected him like this. He lost time and self-control when she was in his arms. No other person, responsibility or care was as important. All he wanted was more of her.

Conor effortlessly spun her around and pinned her against the stone wall with his hands on her shoulders, his hips pressed to her abdomen. As his lips came down, almost touching hers, he vowed, “You are mine, Laurel. Now and forever.”

Laurel shuddered in response. Conor’s mouth closed over hers again while his hands, warm and strong, caressed her breasts. She arched her back, giving him easier access. As he felt her nipples stiffen through her gown, his manhood grew even harder with desire. She groaned his name. He picked her up, went to his chair near the hearth, and placed her stretched out on his lap all the while continuing his assault on her senses.

He removed her slippers, slipped his hand underneath her skirts and started exploring her soft bare legs. “Just let me touch you, love. I need to touch you—need to feel you.” And then his lips again covered her own.

His mouth was everywhere—in and around her ear creating pulses of desire between her legs. She was vaguely aware that she was clutching at him now, lifting herself, straining for a more intimate touch. She was in another world of his creation, and she never wanted to leave.

He wanted to explore every morsel of her body, touch every inch of her flesh, and know each sensitive spot. Skin had never felt so smooth and soft. He craved to see her in the throes of ecstasy and know that he was the one who brought her there.

He slowly moved the sleeves of her dress down her shoulder until her breasts were revealed. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that she should stop him. Never in her life had she dreamed that the physical sensations he was building within her existed. Yet, she didn’t want to stop him, couldn’t stop him.

He had freed both her breasts, but had not moved to touch them. Instead his mouth was ravaging hers, leaving her breathless and wanting more at the same time. Finally, after an eternity, his hands so very lightly touched the silky mounds, slowly caressing their rosy nipples. She gasped at his touch. His hands were rough and hard and felt so very good. Nothing could feel better than this, she thought. And then he increased his intensity.

The need was growing within him, but he held himself back. Her untutored responses were like fuel to a raging fire. He wanted so much to give her pleasure and bring her to passion’s end. She needed to know that she was his and no one else’s. When tonight was over, the thoughts of leaving him or marrying another would be forever erased.

Laurel thought nothing in the world could increase her pleasure, and then his mouth covered her breast. His tongue flickered over and over the nipple bringing it to a peak. Her hands were now grabbing and grazing his back as waves of pleasure coursed through her. His fingers went back to her leg and stroked her inner thigh, matching the rhythm of his tongue on her breast.

His hand stole up to the juncture of her thighs, and her body went rigid. “Conor, no.” But she soon went limp again as he kissed her feverishly, pushing her back into a state of pure sensation. Then his hand began stroking her, artfully easing her legs farther apart.

“You are so soft, so warm, so tight. I have never felt the like. You are truly one of a kind, Laurel, my love.”

He inhaled the scent of her, part perfume and part feminine arousal, and he knew she would be moist and welcoming. He brought his hand up her leg until he was inches from the hot, damp core of her. Then, with a low, husky groan, he found her.

When his fingers penetrated her, she caught her breath and froze. Seconds later, her eyes popped open and she went to move his hand.

“Shhh, love.” He slowly moved his fingers in and out with his thumb rubbing her sensitive nub. “Trust me. I would never hurt you, you know that. Trust me and let me show you how it will be between us.”

“I do trust you, Conor. More than I have ever trusted anyone. But…oh…Lord…” The rest was lost as he continued rubbing and moving his fingers in and out faster and faster.

Tears were flowing again, but this time of pleasure. He was teasing her. She was going mad, but pleading for more.

“Please, please don’t stop. Please…”

“I won’t, love. I promise I will never stop. Just let go and let it take you over. That’s it.”

Laurel felt the world beginning to spin. His touch, his mouth, were all building to an uncontrollable release. She gasped, arching her neck back, clutching at him, twisting his tunic in her fists. Her muscles clenched and unclenched in small spasms, her entire body trembling. She knew she was going to explode, that she couldn’t take any more. And then suddenly, the heavens opened up and spilled over her body. The sensations rippling through her were like none other. All reason left. The experience was a mysterious, beautiful gift, and it was Conor who had given it to her.

She slowly regained awareness of her surroundings. She was in the great hall sitting in Conor’s lap sprawled over him in the most immodest way. Her face was buried in his chest with her arms encircling him, holding him as close as possible. Her breathing was still heavy and her heart pounded so loudly she thought she could hear its echo in the hall. His hand was still under her dress supporting her while she tried to understand what had just happened.

Her scent was intoxicating, he thought, inhaling the mixture of flowers and Laurel’s essence. He could feel her heart racing in unison with his. So much of what they just shared he couldn’t explain. He had only wanted one thing—for her to receive satisfaction from him. When had he ever placed a woman’s pleasure above his? Although he hadn’t come to full release, he’d been close. Nonetheless, nothing he had ever experienced, not even with women most skilled in sexual pleasures, had ever been this good.

He had never imagined that giving pleasure to someone as innocent as Laurel would be so much better than receiving it from anyone else. He hugged her close and righted her sleeves. She still held on to him as if he were a safety line in the deepest of blizzards. She needed him, he thought to himself, completely satisfied.

“Conor, what just happened? I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t want to stop myself. It is all so strange. I don’t know what to do.”

Her soft cry for understanding tore at his heart. He raised her head from his chest and kissed her softly, reassuringly.

“You don’t have to do anything. You were just loved, by me. And you don’t ever have to stop yourself with me, Laurel. We will have plenty of chances to do this again and again.” Especially when the winter nights get cold, he mused. His fear of marriage and commitment had totally disappeared, leaving only a desire to possess her every night for the rest of his days.

“We will? I don’t understand, Conor. This wasn’t proper. We should never do this again. Since we cannot seem to restrain ourselves, we should just stay away from each other.”

The words she sputtered were incredibly naïve, he thought, as he picked her up and began to carry her towards the Star Tower. Still in a dreamlike state, she laid her head on his shoulder and asked, “Why is it when you are around me I can no longer think or behave properly? I’m either a raving shrew or some wanton woman unable to keep her hands off of you.” Even at that moment her hands were stroking his back as he carried her up the stairs to her chambers.

“It’s because you’re a Scot, Laurel,” he said softly, as he entered her chambers and placed her on the bed.

But no other words could have brought her out of her reverie faster than those. How did he find out? Did he know her grandfather? Had she inadvertently let it slip?

He saw her grow tense, but was puzzled by it.

“I…I…I am not a Scot, Conor,” she said, trying to sound convincing. She got off the bed and stared directly at him.

“Aye, but you are, Laurel. Or at least you will be once Father Lanaghly arrives.” He smiled, trying to make her feel more at ease. However, Laurel’s thoughts were now focused on what he knew of her grandfather and whether she had placed the MacInnes clan in greater jeopardy.

“Father Lanaghly cannot change the facts,” she said, walking over to the window to gaze out into the night’s sky. It was clear and cold. Soon winter’s snows would be upon them.

Conor watched Laurel as she struggled with some internal battle. “Oh, but he can and will, love. And not a moment too soon.”

She whirled around. “But how? I mean, what does a priest have to do with anything?”

His gaze was warm and possessive. “Much, if we are to be married.”

“Married!” she exclaimed. “But I cannot marry you! I must leave. I cannot stay. I cannot,” she cried out in desperation.

Reacting to the plea in her voice, he advanced and demanded, “Why, Laurel? Why not? Why can’t you marry me?” He sensed her reason was related to the missing piece of her story. She was afraid of something, someone. He deeply wanted to be the one she ran to for protection. It was painful watching her mentally retreat—to know that she would turn elsewhere for assistance.

“Is there someone else? Is that it?” She could hear the fear in his voice and had to end his pain. She reached out to grab his arms.

“No, no! Conor, how could you think that? There will never be anyone but you—like that.” She was panicking now. She framed his face in her hands. “But please, don’t ask me to marry you. I thought you didn’t want marriage, commitment, or anyone who tied you down.” Her blue-green eyes held his silver ones, urging him to understand and accept.

He pulled her hands down and began to unconsciously massage her fingers. “Laurel, love, I do not know what has you so upset, but I do know this. I will never let anyone hurt you.” His words brought momentary relief, and then just as quickly, the hope in her eyes died a quick death.