The Highlander's Bride (21 page)

Once free, he lowered himself until he covered her body with his own. He had never felt this way before. The rightness of being with her, the intensified pleasure of his naked body touching hers. She was soft, sweet and vulnerable.

He cupped her breasts, grazing his thumbs across the rosy peaks. He bent his head and kissed each one, capturing and tantalizing each nub with his lips.

Laurel’s very breath was stolen away. She moaned and trembled with need.

When Conor felt her hips move against his thighs, his already aroused body tightened even more and he could only think of one thing—making Laurel his.

Conor lowered his mouth from her breasts to her stomach, his tongue swirling around her navel causing her back to arch in response. Every kiss was executed with exquisite passion and each touch gentle but insistent.

He removed the chemise completely and shifted to kiss the fragrant heat between her legs.

Laurel instantly responded, trying to sit up. “Conor, no!” She grabbed his shoulders trying to make him stop. But Conor didn’t even raise his head. Suddenly, she felt his tongue slowly tasting her most intimate place. He found her female flesh and sucked gently. She fell back against the mattress and into oblivion.

She was spinning faster and faster, going deeper into something she could not name. He cupped her hips and his tongue started flicking in and out, driving her to madness. She was writhing underneath him on the brink of igniting into flames. He lifted her higher and tighter against his mouth, refusing to let her climax fade despite her cries and weak struggles.

Then, suddenly, she exploded.

Watching Laurel experience sexual fulfillment was the most intense encounter Conor ever had. She was his soul mate. Just being with her was enough to make him whole.

He was drinking in her large turquoise eyes when his own raging hunger broke free from the last of his defenses. A great shudder of need wracked him, and he no longer possessed the will to resist.

He parted her legs even wider, lowering himself until he covered her body with his own.

As Conor pressed his hips closer, Laurel could feel the long, hard length of his erection. She gasped and instinctively lifted herself against him. She bit his shoulder with her teeth, silently urging him to continue. She knew there was something more, and she wanted it—needed it.

Ever so slowly, Conor lightly touched Laurel until his fingers closed around her precious mound. When his fingers slid into her heat and began rubbing her nubbin, her breath caught in her throat. Laurel writhed against his hand. She felt him teasing her with fingers and thought she would go mad.

“Conor! Please!…Oh…please!” she pleaded, quivering at his touch.

Conor knew she was ready. He was so hard he hurt. He kissed her and then reached down and carefully opened her to his first thrust. He felt the initial resistance that proved he was her first and only lover, and then, in one bold stroke, he felt her close around him.

She cried out again, but this time in pain.

Conor halted deep inside of her and trapped her face between his hands. She was so tight and hot. It was near impossible to hold his need at bay.

“Shhh, love. It will pass,” he murmured while stroking her cheek. Her tears tore at his heart like nothing ever had. He kissed them away.

The pain had shocked her at first, but his voice and touch soon calmed her and the pain receded. She moved so that she could caress his back, slightly disappointed that it was over.

Conor found each move she made exquisitely painful. She was wonderfully tight and fit snugly against him. Never had anything felt so amazing and perfect. This woman who had just stumbled into his life was his, now and forever.

“The pain is gone?” he choked.

“Yes, mostly. Are we done?” Her smile was innocent and yet so intoxicating.

“Oh no, love. We have only just begun.”

As soon as he spoke the words, Conor started to move within her and suddenly, Laurel understood what he meant.

He was so big. At first she thought he was too big, that it would never work. But as he eased himself out and slowly back in, opening her, stretching her, he found a place for himself in the very heart of her.

The rhythm intensified. The sensations that coursed through her with each stroke carried her to another world.

Conor then began to massage her breasts with his tongue, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. The sensations were almost painful. She arched her back and cried out again and again. Laurel’s soft cries of sensual fulfillment were the most incredibly stirring sounds Conor had ever heard.

“Conor,” Laurel cried with building need.

“I know, love, I know.” His voice strained with his own exploding release.

Laurel trembled as she clung to him as if he were the only solid thing in her life.

She felt him retreat and then plunge back into her with deeper, quickening movements. “Oh Lord…Conor, I don’t…I can’t…oh…Conor!”

Her turquoise eyes popped open, and they were the most intense blue he had ever seen.

She felt the delicious twisting sensation building once again swiftly inside her, but this time even stronger than before. He reached down and found the point their bodies were joined, and touched the sensitive female flesh. She cried out and then felt herself shatter into a million pieces.

Conor shuddered and surged forward into her one last time. She was finally his, he thought possessively. Now and forever, she belonged to him just as he belonged to her.

As they slowly returned to earth, savoring what they had just shared, Laurel’s hands roamed aimlessly over Conor’s chest, and she sighed in wonder. Never in her life had she felt so alive, so protected, or so loved.

Conor was momentarily too stunned to do anything. Nothing in his life had ever felt this right, this perfect. He would have no other woman for as long he lived. He only wanted her. He wanted her in his bed, by his side, as his wife, and as the mother of his children.

He stirred and turned to his side, stroking her arm. His gaze was possessive, still blazing with sexual desire. He had wanted to wait until they were married before her first experience, but that had become impossible after she returned his kiss.

He looked forward to ending more arguments in the same way.

“Love?” he asked.

“Hmm?” Laurel nuzzled her chin against his chest, perfectly relaxed and happy.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

She turned toward him, her smile glowing with love. “I love you.”

She said she loved him. This time not in fear, not out of passion, but because she just did.

“And I love you, more than I thought possible.”

“Oh Conor, let us never fight again.”

“I would agree, but I think that a little unrealistic with your temper.”

She playfully jabbed him. “My temper? How about yours? I realize that I shouldn’t have reacted to your fear, Conor. I should have known that you would be anxious, and I should not have responded with anger.”

Conor rose up on his elbow, looking down at her, gaining a physical advantage. “I don’t think you understand. I was not
anxious
. I was angry.”

She twirled her finger in his chest hair, completely unfazed by his dominant position. “Mmm-hmmm. You were afraid when you couldn’t find me and then all those emotions turned into anger once you realized I was fine,” she said lightly as if the idea of him being afraid of something was an everyday event. He rolled completely on top of her and looked directly into her eyes so he had her full attention.

“Now you listen to me. I am a chieftain of a large clan. I am a highlander, and I am a McTiernay. I am never afraid, Laurel.”

Not recognizing the seriousness of his tone, she teasingly replied, “Are you telling me that because you are a laird you are incapable of feeling fear?”

“Aye.”

Laurel then detected the change in his demeanor. His eyes were distant and serious. Gone were the desire and the passion they had just shared.

She pushed against him and sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed clutching the coverlet to her chest.

The concept of never admitting fear seemed ludicrous to her. Conor was a man full of great passions, including fear, anger, and love. He was also a very complex man, sensitive to appearing in the least bit needy or weak.

Laurel took a deep breath and turned back to face him. “Oh, well, thank you for explaining it to me. Please relax, Conor. I don’t want to argue. Not now. Not after what we just shared.”

Her expression was full of hope and contentment. Her eyes were large, sea-green pools of longing. Conor didn’t want to fight with this woman, he wanted to love her. He reached up, pulled her head down and gave her a long, deep satisfying kiss that conveyed all he felt for her.

When finished, he turned on his back and cradled her next to him. Once again content, he thought about the day’s events, playing with her hair and stroking her cheek. Something that she had said a moment ago reminded him of a comment that Fallon had made earlier that day.

“I understand that you are now working on repairing the chapel for our wedding.”

“Mmm-hmm. Fallon and Glynis were arguing earlier today about the order of what should be done. Highlanders like to argue, I think.”

“Is it going to be ready? Father Lanaghly should be here within a few days.”

Laurel sighed. “Most likely it will not be with all the work on the cottages still to do. There are just not enough men to spare to complete work on the chapel.”

His hand stilled. “What work on the cottages?”

“Oh, the repairs on the clansmen’s roofs, doors, windows, and hearths. Typical repairs for winter.”

“What would you know of winter repairs? Laurel, don’t tell me that you have been talking with my men about such matters.”

Laurel felt Conor’s body still and become rigid. “Now, don’t get all prickly, Conor. Mostly I spoke with women. It has been my experience that they know more about what needs to be done anyway. Besides I had only started my rounds this morning when…”

Without warning, Conor sat up and Laurel found herself abruptly thrown aside. “This morning!” Conor bellowed, “I thought you said you were with Aileen.”

Conor’s eyes penetrated into hers. Laurel was shaken.

“I did. But I didn’t say I was there all day. In fact, you did not give me much of a chance to explain anything,” she said, finding her nerve.

“Well, I’m giving it to you now.”

Laurel did not like the tone of his voice at all and sat up, donning her chemise before she continued. The action helped her regain control of her temper. She reminded herself that he was still somewhat sensitive due to their earlier argument.

“You have been very busy with many clan duties, and I just wanted to help. I have assisted with village upkeep before when I lived with my brother and knew I could do the same here. Brighid and I went out to meet with your clansmen to see who needed assistance in preparing for the winter storms. We had only time to meet a handful before we were called to assist Aileen.”

“You had no right, Laurel.” His voice had taken that low ominous sound again, telling of his growing ire.

“No right? Whatever do you mean? I’m to be lady of this clan. Granted I am not yet, but I will certainly be performing these duties after our vows.”

“You are a woman, and no wife of mine is going to do the work of a man.”

Her jaw became temporarily slack. “You mean
Finn
or
Fallon
could do such duties, but not I?”

“Aye. They’re men.”

She was off the bed now, fuming. “So what am I to you? What is the lady of this castle supposed to do? Weave?”

“You are to do what all ladies do. Sew, clean, and prepare the meals. You are to see me go and receive me when I return. When guests arrive, you should see to their comforts. You know what a lady does and does not do, Laurel. Do not pretend otherwise.”

“I have
never
pretended who I am, Conor. And I am not likely to start
pretending
that I like to be confined to only domestic responsibilities. I like to ride, to hunt, and to help manage the village or the clan estates. I’m good at it, and you know it!” She was yelling now. Somewhere deep inside her she knew that he would never see her point of view so long as she employed this tactic.

“Not any more!” he roared back.

She threw a pillow at him. “I will not be married to a
toll-toine
of a man who will not see the wisdom of having help where warranted and needed.”

“Your help is not warranted nor is it needed.”

“Just because I’m a woman.”

“My woman.”

“Oh, no, I am not. Not yet. And, after this conversation, I am thinking not ever!” She grabbed the rest of her clothes and proceeded towards the door. He made no effort to stop her.

“You will be married to me, Laurel Cordell. And it will be as soon as the priest arrives. Do you not realize what happened tonight? You have been bedded. By me. You are mine by all rights except God’s, and I will have his approval before this week’s out.”

She stared at him, cold anger flaring to life. The arrogant man. He really thought she would marry him now. She opened the door and paused just before leaving. “Hear me now, Conor McTiernay. I never plan on changing,
ever
. Not for you or any man. If you want
all
the clan responsibilities, you can have them. I love you, but if you cannot accept me and what little I bring in the areas of experience, skill, and order, then I will not marry you. Regardless of whether or not I have lost my virginity,
I will not marry you
.” And she left.

The next day, Laurel woke up early and went to go bathe in the river but was stopped at the guard gate.

“I’m sorry, milady. The laird requested that you remain inside the keep.” The guard felt very guilty about repeating the order, especially when he saw her eyes change to a cloudy blue-green. He hoped that he never had to be the bearer of bad news to her again.

Not wanting to punish the young man for simply being an unlucky messenger, Laurel bade him good-bye and walked towards the Star Tower as if she were returning to her room. Instead, she snuck into the stables and quietly led Borrail out of the stall past the sleeping stable boy. She jumped on him bareback, and then flew by the guard towers before they had a chance to realize her intention and react.

Ha! Keep me prisoner! I will show you, Conor McTiernay. If you think that you can control me—think again
, she thought, as she made her way to the river. It was quite chilly for what she was about to do. The weather was getting colder each day, and soon it would snow. The river would ice over in many areas before too long. She peeled off her leggings, exposing her toes to the biting cold of the rocks.

Laurel knew she was insane, but also knew that she needed time away from people and the castle. And she needed a bath. Just thinking about Conor’s high-handed command that she remain within the keep’s walls fueled her anger anew. She quickly stripped the rest of her clothes and ran into the freezing water, hoping that it would diminish her vexation with Conor. She scrubbed her hair and her body with the lilac soap she had brought, and was rising to return to shore when Conor appeared.

He didn’t stop at the river’s edge but rode straight into the icy water and hauled her up on his lap. Returning to shore, he wrapped a plaid around her and told her to get dressed.

Laurel knew he was angry with her. By leaving in such an obvious and defiant way, she had expected to get his attention. Just not so soon. But what Conor didn’t understand yet was that she was just as furious with his autocratic decisions made earlier that day.

After the morning meal, Conor had been sitting by the fire mentally reviewing the previous night. Once again, he grew hard just thinking about it. It had been an incredible experience—unlike anything he had ever known. She had made him feel so alive.

Conor swore under his breath. She had made him feel needed, important, loved in a way he never had before. Until she dropped her bombshell. After they exchanged those harsh parting words, she had been on his mind all night—hovering, taunting. And, at the edge of every dream, he lost her to a dark and dangerous void. Each time he awoke, he was alone and full of fear that she was gone. After one of those many dreams, he arose and ordered the entry guards to prevent her from leaving the keep without him.

When he was first told of her escapade, he was shocked. No one had ever disobeyed a direct order of his before. He was still working out why she would defy him so publicly when he discovered her bathing by herself in the freezing river water.

“What in the hell did you think you were doing?” he demanded as he watched her dress. His body was rigid and tense with a mixture of fury and primal desire at seeing her wet and naked.

She pulled on her bliaut and looked up at him defiantly. She couldn’t believe that he could stand there scowling at her with patronizing masculine outrage. “Be more specific, laird. Do you want me to explain the phases of a bath or were you referring to my ride outside the keep on Borrail?” Despite trying not to, she began shivering, making it difficult to argue and, at the same time, put on her leggings with numb fingers.

Conor saw Borrail tethered to tree branch a few feet away and moved to stand between her and her horse. “Did you ride that huge animal bareback? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“Oh, good grief. You and your superior attitude. It’s not only men who can ride bareback.” She was dressed now and feeling a little more confident. She lifted her chin, her eyes glittering with anger, and continued, “I’ll have you know that I have seen your men ride and hunt, and I can outperform most of them. So, stuff your ridiculous ideas and let me pass.” She straightened her shoulders and picked up her dress to go around him.

As Laurel tried to walk by, he caught her by the arm and whirled her around to face him. “You will not bathe in the river, Laurel. It is too cold for your blood. You have yet to become accustomed to highland weather.”

“I was just fine until you barged in riding like a madman.” She tried to shrug off his hands. They remained firm.

“I was protecting you.”

She brought her hands up the middle and forced them out, breaking Conor’s hold. “Bah! You were furious that I left the keep. It has nothing to do with where I chose to bathe. Only that I chose to do it despite your wishes.”

Conor ran his fingers through his hair, trying to get his temper under control. He really had not intended to start the day like this with her. Last night had been exquisite pleasure followed by the acute pain of her departure. He had convinced himself that her refusal to marry him was just bluster to save her pride. But, still, he wished they had not ended last night with so much anger between them.

They stood glowering at each other for several moments before he decided he could no longer stand there and watch her shiver. Her wet hair was dripping and had caused her gown to become saturated along the shoulders. Without warning, he lifted her in his arms and mounted his horse. Her teeth chattering too much to argue, she let Conor wring out her wet strands and bundle her in his plaid. He then grabbed Borrail’s reins and walked the horses back up the hill to the dirt road leading into the castle walls.

“Despite what you believe, I don’t want you hurt. These rivers are deceptive this time of year. It’s only their strong currents that keep them from freezing over. Many a person has entered and became too cold to return to the shore. That is why you should bathe in the keep.”

The answer was logical, which didn’t help. “But I like to bathe in the river sometimes. It helps free my thoughts,”
and cool me down
, she added to herself.

“Then, when you want to bathe in the river, I will join you,” he said, thinking it an excellent compromise. He could conjure up many ways to keep them warm despite the frigid water temperatures.

“No, thank you. If it is just the idea of my bathing by myself, perhaps one of the other women could join me.” Warmer now, she could feel her spirited nature return.

“They could not pull you out should you need assistance. And no other man would dare to accompany you.”

She didn’t want another man, but she certainly was not going to admit as much to him. “Am I a prisoner, laird?”

He didn’t like the way she was referring to him as “laird” all of a sudden. It was as if she was intentionally trying to imply that there was nothing between them with that single word. “No. Why would you think such a thing? Who told you that you were a prisoner?”

“A guard told me that I was not
allowed
to leave the curtain walls. Is that true? Am I not
allowed
outside the castle? Am I a prisoner or a child to you?”

Conor swore underneath his breath. “Stop it, Laurel. You are neither, and you know that. I just cannot escort you all the time, and I need to know that you are safe.” Again, the nightmares of her disappearing into a nameless void flitted through his memory, causing him to tighten his grip.

Feeling the restriction, Laurel assumed the worst. “You mean that you need to control every movement I make. I won’t live like this, and if you force me, I will find a way to leave.”

“And I will drag you back,” he growled, not liking the direction of their exchange.

“I will just try again and again until I succeed. You may be laird and can control the activities of the clan, but you do not control me.”

Conor felt his temper start to slip again. “I don’t want to control you! I want to keep you safe! Not knowing where you were last night shut down the entire castle. We are vulnerable when that happens, Laurel. Do you understand? I had all my men scouring the countryside for your body when we couldn’t find you! The castle was open to attack. I cannot have that, and if that means you have to stay behind the castle walls, then I will see that it happens.”

Laurel had not realized that so much effort had gone into looking for her. So many men and women—searching for her. Conor must truly have been afraid for her welfare, and that was what was driving him now. She was instantly mollified and remorseful.

“I had not realized but, even so, you cannot expect me to never to leave! Please do not ask that of me. What if I promise always to let someone know where I am at all times?”

“If you wish to go somewhere, I will take you,” he said, believing this to be an adequate solution.

Laurel did not think so at all. She did not want to be near him. His unbending stance on her contribution in clan affairs was intolerable. There was no way she could marry him if he expected her to be a meek, uninvolved wife. The thought of being near him and not having him for her own would tear her apart.

“But, what about when I want to stay all day at Aileen’s to help with the baby?”

Conor had not considered that. He certainly did not want to spend large amounts of time with two jabbering women and a baby. “You may have another for an escort. But you must inform someone of where you are going at all times.”

No one knowing Conor well would believe him capable of compromise. But ever since he had met this woman, he had found himself adjusting, even changing some of his long lived-by principles. But when he was the source of her engaging smile and the sparkle in her dazzling blue-green eyes, it made it all worth while.

“Thank you, Conor, and I promise to always have an escort and notify someone of where I am going.”

Her voice was cheerful. She was again happy. She called him “Conor.” Finally, he thought, things will return to normal.

If Conor thought that the truce about her comings and goings around the castle had resolved other issues, he was mistaken. Him yielding to the idea of an escort had not at all addressed the issue of her role—or lack thereof—in clan affairs, as he discovered with Fallon later that afternoon.

“What do you mean, she told you to see me?!” he bellowed at Fallon in the chapel hall.

“Precisely what I said, laird. Lady Laurel said that, from now on, all clan issues were to be discussed and overseen only by you.”

“Exactly! But what does that have to do about whether windows should be cleaned or which material should be used on some benches?” He was totally perplexed as to why he had been called in on such domestic matters. These were exactly the type of affairs he had outlined as her responsibility.

“When I asked for an explanation, she told me that you had directed all labor to be determined and conducted under your discretion. Since additional men will be required to…”

“She what? If she expects me to submit to her demands this way, she will have to think again!” he yelled, stomping out of the chapel.

“But, laird? Windows or benches?” Fallon cried out.

“Hell, I don’t know. Windows!” He would be damned if he gave in to her again. She was not going to manipulate him as if he were an inexperienced chieftain new to the role. He was in charge and, by God, she was going to accept that!

“Glynis!” he shouted across the courtyard as he saw her leaving the kitchen and heading toward the Star Tower. She immediately changed her direction and came scurrying towards him.

“Aye, laird?”

“Tell Laurel that she is to dine with me this evening in the great hall.”
Tonight, my love, we will have this out,
he said to himself. He started to leave.

“Laird? My lady told me to tell you, in case you inquired, that she would be dining at the commander’s house, visiting with their new babe.” Damn, Conor thought. But if she thought to avoid him forever she was mistaken.

Actually, it was he who was wrong. Laurel was able to successfully steer clear of him for the next several days. She was always visiting some ill person or dining with Finn and his wife in the evenings. But she kept her promise. She always had Brighid with her, and someone at the keep was always informed of her whereabouts.

Unfortunately, she had also made good on her threat to abandon all keep responsibilities to him. Added to that, he could never confront her because he could never find her inside the castle walls. Now that the castle was up and running again, there were several things that needed to be dealt with every day. He didn’t want the keep to return to its previous state, but the time required to see to its maintenance was more than aggravating. He knew Laurel was testing him, driving him to surrender. But, he, too, could hold firm. And, unlike her threat to never marry him, when he said never, he meant never. And he would never yield when it came to her role in clan affairs.

Every night, he waited until she returned from Finn’s to confront her. But, each time, she somehow got past him and was in her chambers asleep when he finally retired for the evening.

“You cannot keep this up, Laurel,” Aileen said the fifth night Laurel had come over. Brighid was cradling the sleeping baby by the hearth.

“I know. But I just cannot face him.”

“What are you going to do when the priest arrives? Finn says that the laird is still convinced that you and he are going to be married.” Aileen retrieved her bairn from Brighid. He was a wee boy and very sweet natured.

Laurel inhaled deeply and let out a forlorn sigh. “Well, he will have to be unconvinced, won’t he? I will not be married to a man who is going to try to change me into something I am not.”

Aileen laid her sleeping little boy in the middle of the bed and rejoined her friend by the hearth. “I agree that he should not change you, but I think you are going to have to marry him.” Aileen leaned over to whisper, “You’re living with him, Laurel. You have no choice.”

“Normally, I would agree. I really would. But where Conor and I sleep shouldn’t have anything to do with us getting married. He refuses to let me do the things that make me happy. He wants me to become some boring, dull version of myself. If he loved me, he wouldn’t ask this. He would be glad of my assistance and what I can do. Not ashamed.”