The Highlander's Bride Trouble (4 page)

“I accept yer challenge,” he informed her.

Her mouth went dry.

“I am nae challenging ye.” But her voice had turned husky with longing.

His lips lifted in an arrogant grin. “Ye are, Nareen, and I enjoy it full well.”

She shook her head, but his dark eyes flickered with determination. A moment later,
he pressed his lips against hers. She gasped, recoiling, but the wall was solid behind
her and gave her no room to escape. Saer cupped her nape, sending another shiver down
her spine at the strength in his grip. There was something primitive about the way
he controlled her, holding her in such a place.

He might snap her neck if he chose.

Instead, he kissed her.

She stiffened, rejecting him with every fiber of her being. But he didn’t smash her
lips beneath his. Saer pressed a firm kiss against her lips and then another before
he swept his tongue along her lower lip. One soft lap that made her notice how velvety
the surface of his tongue was.

It didn’t hurt.

And his fingertips weren’t digging into her nape.

Surprise flashed through her, making her gasp.

Saer took advantage of her open lips, deepening the kiss. This time she couldn’t help
but notice how pleasant his lips felt against her own. She’d never considered that
a man’s lips might be soft. Saer’s were.

He coaxed her with gentle pressure to kiss him back. He teased her with slow laps
along the sensitive surface of her lips to open her mouth farther. When she did, he
deepened the kiss and unleashed a need that twisted her insides. Heat flashed through
her, making her clothing feel constricting. Her breasts felt swollen as her nipples
slowly contracted behind her bodice. It was overwhelming, and she shoved against his
chest, struggling to slip away from him.

When he prevented her, she reached up and slapped him.

The sound was loud and echoed inside the chapel. But there was no one to hear. Even
the priest had disappeared. She was utterly abandoned.

Fear bit into her, its venom nauseating her. She shook her head, trying to stave it
off, but her eyes brightened with unshed tears. Saer’s keen gaze settled on her eyes,
infuriating her, because she was very much afraid he saw how glassy they were.

At least anger burned away the fear, so she welcomed it and cast aside any further
attempts at being civil.

“I am nae yers,” she said, but her tone lacked all strength.

He started toward her but froze at the plea in her tone. She heard him pull in a harsh
breath before he gripped the wide belt holding his kilt against his lean waist.

“A kiss is nae a claim of ownership.” His tone was gentler than she expected. The
lack of arrogance surprised her, stilling her need to move away. But she still shook
her head, unable to stop disagreeing with him.

“I did nae hurt ye. I know me strength and how to control it.”

She gave a bitter bark of laughter. “All men do. Just as they all know when they no
longer have to temper their will. I’ll nae make the mistake of putting meself at any
man’s mercy.”

She turned away, intent on leaving him through the back of the workroom.

“We’re nae finished, Nareen.”

He was so close his breath brushed her ear. Saer moved with an unnatural speed, reaching
out to encircle her waist. He bound her to him, bringing their bodies into contact
from shoulders to feet. Her skirts compressed, allowing her to feel his legs behind
her.

“I am nae a challenge,” she insisted, turning her head to make sure he heard her.

“Ye are,” Saer told her in a deep whisper.

She opened her mouth to argue, and he sealed his hand over it.

“But nae in the manner ye believe, Nareen. It is nae conquest for the sake of claiming
a prize that I seek.”

She stretched her neck, trying to dislodge his hand. Victory was hers for a short
moment, but he slid his fingers down her chin and along her neck to rest against the
spot in her throat where her pulse throbbed. Shame filled her as he found the telltale
proof of her racing heart. He made a soft sound of male approval that sent a shudder
through her. She felt surrounded by him, and part of her enjoyed it immensely, begging
her to soften and yield to his embrace.

“Ye are a challenge because ye test me control to entice ye until ye yield.”

“I do nae want ye to,” she claimed.

“Which is why I want to return to yer cousin’s house and beat her until she gives
me the names of the men who laid rough hands on ye.”

She shifted, trying to ease her way out of his hold. “I do nae recall them at all.”

It was a lie. The boldest one she had ever told, and she was not sorry. She was going
to say it again and again until she believed it.

“I’m going to teach ye the pleasure of touch.”

His voice had deepened and softened until it was like the stroke of a feather. Just
barely there. She relaxed, sinking back against him to make sure she heard him.

She shouldn’t. It was a weakness, one that would see her suffer at his hands once
he gained what he wished.

“Once I yield, all ye will do is take. It is the nature of a man.” She tried to gently
push his arm away from her, but he held firm. “I lack a submissive nature, Saer. It
might amuse ye now, but ye will lose patience with me in time.”

“Do ye hear the difference in me tone, Nareen?” He kissed the shell of her ear. “Listen
to me and learn the difference between a man who knows pleasure should be shared,
nae just taken.”

He stroked lower, across skin she’d never realized was so sensitive. Beneath his fingertips,
her flesh was humming with appreciation. Goose bumps spread down her torso until her
nipples puckered once again.

“Ye are using words to dull me wits.” She stretched her neck away from his hand. “To
confuse.”

“Perhaps I am trying to prove me worth.” He stroked her neck again, this time all
the way up to her chin, where his hand cupped her jaw. It was a slow motion, one that
drew a gasp from her as sensation went thundering through her.

A pleasurable sensation, without a doubt.

There was no lying to herself.

He turned her face so she might see his eyes. “I prefer it this way, lass, for I have
never been a man to be taken at merely me word.” His eyes closed to mere slits. “Showing
ye is going to be me pleasure.” His lips curved, setting off a coil of excitement
in her belly. “It will be yers too.”

She jerked her face away, unable to remain still with his gaze boring into hers. He
saw too much. Noticed too many things she needed to keep hidden. She might bear it,
so long as no one witnessed the ugliness.

“I…cannae.” The words were a plea. A tear escaped as the words made it past her resolve
to remain strong. “Release me, please.”

“That would be an unkind thing.”

There was a solidness in his tone that made her heart accelerate. She battled the
wave of panic trying to crest as he leaned over and kissed the side of her neck. The
contact was jarring. She jerked, so tightly wound with anticipation. With all of her
senses heightened, the impact of that gentle touch was extreme.

Her skin hummed with approval and begged for more.

Saer didn’t disappoint her either. He trailed kisses along the column of her throat,
making a slow progress that drove her mad with longing. She found herself stretching
her neck out for him, making certain he missed none of the tender flesh where her
neck and collarbone met.

“That is the way, lass…”

His voice was merely a whisper. In the darkened hallway, with the sunlight blocked
by the walls of the doorway, she was almost sure she had fallen into some sort of
enchantment.

Except Saer was solid behind her. Everything about him was hard, but for some reason,
she found it enticing. She lowered her chin, trying to force herself to open her eyes
wide.

“Nae, lass, we are just beginning.”

He cupped her jaw and raised her chin until she was leaning her head back against
his powerful shoulder.

“And I am eager to show ye how a man honors the trust granted to him by a lass.”

“Honors?”

She didn’t realize she’d spoken until his chest rumbled behind her. But it wasn’t
amusement. It was a deep, low growl that reminded her of just how powerful a creature
he was.

“Aye,” he confirmed before tracing the surface of her lower lip with his finger. She
was suddenly trembling with the need to feel his kiss. The delicate surface of her
lips tingled. She moved against him in purely instinctual motion.

She didn’t understand it, but it felt good.

She moved again, and Saer did too. Rolling his body from side to side and pressing
against her, he slid his hand over her eyes, blocking out the daylight and leaving
her sinking into the sensation her body was experiencing.

“Feel, lass. Do naught but feel.”

She reached for his arm, eager to do as he commanded. With his shirt tied up to the
shoulders, there was nothing to separate her from his warm flesh. His forearm was
hard, the definition of the muscles clear. She stroked him, trying to absorb all of
his strength. It fanned the flames of need smoldering inside her.

His body hair was thicker than hers and crisp. It delighted her in a way she couldn’t
describe, so she merely sighed with contentment.

“That’s the way, lass…”

She smiled at his praise, and he drew his hand down the side of her face. She turned
her cheek until it rested against his breast so he might stroke the other side of
her face. Her cheek was warm with a blush of excitement, and she wanted him to notice.

Saer made a soft circle with his fingertips over the hot spot before trailing his
hand down and over the corner of her lips. Just the corner, and she let out a little
sound of disappointment when he continued along the column of her neck instead of
teasing her lips.

His destination became clear.

Her eyes opened wide as he smoothed over her collarbone and onto her chest.

“Close yer eyes, Nareen…” he tempted her.

She didn’t, because the sight of his fingers traveling lower on her chest was too
erotic to miss. It shouldn’t have delighted her, but she was fascinated, unable to
look away. He teased the top of her breast where her bodice pressed it up. She drew
in a stiff breath and found herself holding it as delight drew its claws down her
body. She felt it all along her spine, a twisting, churning delight that begged for
her to arch and increase the pressure between his hand and her breast.

He pressed a kiss against her neck, this one firmer and full of hunger. One she felt
inside herself as well.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and everything intensified.

She leaned her head back, and Saer boldly stroked the swell of one breast. Her nipple
was still puckered, but it felt like it was drawing tighter. Nareen reached behind
her, seeking his thighs through the pleated fabric of his kilt. She needed more of
him, craved the feeling of his hard body.

He kissed his way up her neck and across her jawline until she was turning in his
embrace, his hands guiding her until he could cover her lips with his own. He closed
his embrace around her once more, and she purred with contentment. Every inch of her
was humming with delight, and she reached for him, sliding her hand along the side
of his face until she threaded her fingers through the strands of his hair.

He growled softly, his mouth pressing harder against hers. She opened her lips, anticipating
the touch of his tongue this time. When it came, she shuddered, her entire body responding
to the touch. She fisted her hand in his hair, holding him to her as she tried to
mimic his motions and taste him, just as he was tasting her.

Her actions sparked a response in him that was uncontrollable. For one wild moment,
he claimed her mouth like a prize. His lips played across hers with a demand that
had her clitoris throbbing between the folds of her sex and her hips straining toward
his.

Suddenly, he put her away from him, cupping her shoulders and setting her back a full
pace. He held her there as she heard him draw in a ragged breath. His eyes glittered
with hunger, and frustration needled her.

“Concede the point, Nareen.” He stepped farther back and offered her his hand, the
meaning unmistakable.

He wanted submission now that he’d proven her flesh was weak.

Of course he did. All men craved such from women. The kindness was over, and now the
claiming would begin.

She shook her head and grabbed the front of her skirt. “I shall never concede any
victory to ye.”

His eyes narrowed and glittered with a promise that made her lips tingle. It was more
than a look. She felt his determination as much as saw it flickering in his eyes.
It stole her breath and sent her heart racing. An insane urge to bare her teeth at
him surfaced, terrifying her with how intense her feelings were.

Wild…like him.

She ran.

Maybe her pride demanded she stand her ground, but there was something churning in
her insides that convinced her she had no hope of prevailing against him. It was urging
her back toward him, back into his embrace where she might be enchanted once again.

The blush stinging her cheeks had nothing to do with her running. She’d enjoyed his
kiss and wanted more. It was a dark and wild craving, rising up from some place deep
inside her, a feeling that overwhelmed logical thought, leaving her prey to her instincts.

She wouldn’t be a creature of weakness. Not like Abigail, and not like those who had
come to Ruth with gold in order to purchase something that they craved uncontrollably.
Most of them weren’t evil at their core. Lament often shone in their eyes when they
were finished, but they were slaves to their needs.

No, she would not be like that.

Ever.

***

“Me father will be at supper.”

Nareen took the pot of rouge away in response. Abigail had an affection for court
and its lavish ways. Even in the Highlands, she still painted her face every night.
Preparing for supper took the lady a full two hours.