An Enemy at the Highland Court: An Enemies to Lovers Highlander Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 5)

by Celeste Barclay

  Cairren’s lips drew in tight as she nodded her head. “No wonder you want to couple with me. You don’t dare defile her, but you’re frustrated that you can only kiss her. Why not use your wife to slake your lust? I’m telling you now, like I told you the night you visited my chamber before my parents left. Leave me alone, or I will scream this keep down. Move.”

  “And where will you go?” Padraig demanded. “To Alex?”

  “Yes!” Cairren hurled at him. She didn’t know where she intended to go, but she wanted to hurt Padraig.

  “Like hell you are, Ren. You’re my wife.” Padraig pulled her against him and fisted her hair in his hand, but he would never force her. He waited for her to pull away, to push him away, but her gray eyes with the tinge of green eyes filled with tears as she nodded. He lowered his mouth to hers, careful to go slowly and not frighten her. He would only do what she wanted. Their lips brushed together, and a tingle shot through Cairren’s body. She needed to be closer to Padraig, not just skin to skin. She needed to feel safe with him again, like she had for the brief time he sneaked to her chamber each night. The kiss was tender as Padraig eased his tongue into her mouth. He refused to rush, wanting to draw out each moment, making up for the hurtful things said that night. “Ren, will you share my bed with me tonight?”

  Cairren looked at the massive bed and remembered how Padraig had been so caring and encouraging their first night together. He’d tended to her wants and her needs, and she’d trusted him. Only to have it all come crashing down. She closed her eyes as tears leaked from below her lids. Her body and her mind were at war. She hungered for the feel of him inside her, but her memory warned her she had no one to blame but herself for the inevitable misery that would come in the morning. She looked at the bed again as she struggled not to cry.

  “Cairren, you’re the only woman who has ever shared that bed with me.” Cairren look up at him, confused and disbelieving. “I’ve never had a mistress, only women I’ve visited in the village. I swear to you that I’ve never coupled with her. You’re the only one who’s been in my bed besides me.”

  “I—I—I want to believe you. I choose to believe you; otherwise, I’m the greatest fool for agreeing to staying here tonight.”

  “You’ll stay?” Padraig beamed when Cairren nodded. “I can sleep by the hearth, if you’d rather.” Padraig didn’t want to, but he would do anything to bring Cairren’s smile back. He wanted the one he’d seen directed at Alex and the Kennedys to be the one directed at him.

  “I don’t want to sleep on the floor.” At Padraig’s puzzled look, her gazed softened. “That’s where I’d end up because I want to spend the night beside you.”

  They undressed in silence before the fire. Padraig watched the light flicker off of Cairren’s bronze skin, and he traced the shadows as they danced across her breasts. He kissed along her neck until he reached the spot behind her ear where he nuzzled and licked. His hand slid between them, and he groaned when he discovered the moisture pooling between her thighs. He flicked his fingers into her entrance, and Cairren moaned as she pressed her hips forward. Padraig sank to his knees, kissing the inside of her thigh as he nudged them apart. A brief thought tapped at his brain as he recalled Cairren saying Myrna had enjoyed being pleasured by his tongue. He knew that wasn’t true, but he intended on being sure Cairren learned what he wanted his tongue to do to her. He lapped at her seam and chuckled when she gasped and grabbed a fistful of his hair. He glanced up, and his wolfish grin made Cairren’s lips part as she panted. She released his hair and watched as he pressed his mouth to her mons. It surprised him that she’d kept her mound smooth despite their unpredictable relationship. For a moment he wondered if she was doing it for someone else’s benefit.

  “I just like it better. It’s more comfortable,” Cairren whispered, reading his mind. “You’re the only mon who knows.”

  Padraig teased her body until she begged for him to bring her to release. She clutched his shoulders to keep her balance as she grew lightheaded from the sensations coursing through her. While tasting her release tempted him, he wanted to be buried inside Cairren for each of the climaxes he intended to bring her. He eased her down, so she straddled his kneeling legs. Guiding her hips, the tip of his cock slid along her seam, and by silent mutual agreement, he pulled her onto his cock as she dropped her weight onto his lap. They kissed as their bodies moved together, and just as every time in the past, Padraig marveled at how being joined with Cairren surpassed any other experience in his life.

  The world fell away until it was just the two of them, locked in the throes of passion until Cairren’s strangled cry signaled a release that left her breathless. Padraig thrust over and over as she encouraged him to stop holding back. Their movements became frenzied as they each sought to bring the other to climax. When Padraig couldn’t withstand the need any longer, he ground Cairren against his rod.

  “You are mine, Cairren. I won’t let you go. I know what I’m saying, and I mean it.” Padraig promised as his seed filled her core. Cairren refused to read more into it, and she didn’t want to hear anything that would later crush her. She pressed her mouth to his until their tremors subsided, and Padraig carried Cairren to his bed. They slept little that night as their need was insatiable, and neither was inclined to deny the other.

  Chapter Twenty

  Cairren came awake to the feeling of Padraig feathering his fingers over her chest. She grumbled and shook her head as she burrowed closer to him. His laughter rumbled deep in his chest.

  “I know, little one. I’m tired too. I didn’t want you to wake alone and think I’d abandoned you,” Padraig whispered. Cairren’s eyes fluttered open. “Ren, I don’t want to leave this bed or leave you, but there’s only one thing I want more than that. I want Myrna to go home. I have to ride out and take her Balnagown. I plan to return before the evening meal, but it’s likely I’ll be forced to spend the night while I settle things with her family. They’re already angry that the wedding was canceled. That I’m returning her home on the day we were to wed will only make matters worse, but she cannot remain here."

  Cairren nodded but remained silent. The return to reality was jarring and disappointing. She looked around the chamber until she found her clothes from the night before. She moved to roll away, but Padraig captured her hand and brought it to his lips.

  “Ren, do you have any idea what the thought of returning here and finding you in this bed does to me?” Padraig guided her hand down to his thick rod. “I’m not leaving until I’m certain you understand I’m returning here to you. You have family visiting, so I know you won’t stay locked away all day, but I confess the thought of you being in my bed all day, naked as you are now, will keep me hard as a pike. Do you know how uncomfortable that will be on a bluidy horse?”

  Cairren giggled as she pulled Padraig over her. “Then let me ease some of that discomfort.”

  Padraig slid into Cairren and sighed. He rocked his hips over and over until Cairren begged for more. He happily obliged and thrust with as much force as he dared. Cairren never ceased to amaze him with how her body welcomed him despite their difference in size. Each time he feared being too rough, Cairren demanded more. He happily gave it to her until they were both panting and sweating.

  “You shall keep everyone waiting,” Cairren reminded Padraig. He grumbled, but rose to pull on a fresh leine. Cairren rested on her elbows as she watched the muscles ripple across Padraig’s back and chest as he moved. When he moved to pin his brooch to his shoulder, she kneeled at the end of the bed and held out her hand. As Cairren fastened the extra length of plaid, they froze and gazed at one another. It was the most wifely thing Cairren had ever done, a different type of intimacy than any they’d shared. Padraig wrapped his arm around her trim body and pulled her close for a kiss. She cupped his jaw in her hands as his free hand cupped hers. Neither was prepared for the door to burst open or for the scream that followed.

  Padraig spun around, shielding Cairren’s naked
body from the intruder as she scrambled to pull the sheet around her. She pulled the bedcovers to her chin and around body, holding them closed against her back. She peered around Padraig’s shoulder and found a snarling Myrna in the doorway. She vibrated from rage as she took in the scene of Padraig and Cairren together.

  “Why is she in my bed again?” Myrna demanded.

  “It’s never been your bed, Myrna. And Cairren is my wife. She’s where she belongs.”

  “What?” Myrna screeched as she stormed into the chamber. “It’s supposed to be our wedding day, and yet I come to share horrible news, needing your comfort, only to find you here with this—this mongrel.”

  “Get out, Myrna, before I throttle you,” Padraig warned. “You will not speak to or aboot Cairren like this anymore. Wait for me in the bailey and be ready to ride out in five minutes.”

  “We can’t,” Myrna crowed. She sounded a little too self-satisfied for Cairren’s comfort.

  “And why not? Myrna, I have no patience for you already.”

  “That’s because you don’t love me anymore,” she wailed. Padraig was stuck once again. Most inconveniently backed into a corner. He wasn’t about to confess his love for Myrna while his naked wife kneeled in the bed they’d just shared. But neither did he want to ignore Myrna and not reassure her.

  “It’s fine,” Cairren muttered. “Tell her.”

  Padraig turned to look at Cairren, and her lack of surprise or hurt made his stomach churn. She was not only prepared for him to choose Myrna in front of her, she expected it. Of course, she is. When havenae I?

  “Myrna, wait for me, belowstairs. This is neither the time nor the place for this discussion.”

  “You’re kicking me out?” Myrna pointed at Cairren. “Aren’t you done with her yet? I’ve ignored the fact that you spent the night fornicating in here with her, but now you expect me to wait even longer. No.”

  Cairren sighed. She was fed up of being in the middle, once again blamed for Padraig’s inability to decide. She climbed off the bed and walked across the chamber naked until she reached her clothes. She listened to Myrna hiss and spit, lobbing insults about her skin color. She acted as though she heard nothing. She pulled her chemise on, then her kirtle, but she didn’t bother lacing it. She collected her shoes and stockings then looked at Padraig, who she’d felt watching her since she left the bed. When she made to walk past him, his hand shot out and took hers. He gave it a squeeze before turning his attention to Myrna.

  “What is this news you claim is so horrible that you burst into my chamber unannounced?”

  “It’s supposed to be our—” Myrna’s mouth drew into a tight pucker when Padraig cursed. “There’s a sickness going through my clan. My parents say it’s not safe for me to return.”

  Padraig felt the anger seething out of Cairren, but she didn’t move. He looked down, and her face was the image of sympathy and concern, but he could feel the barely contained rage. He darted his eyes to Myrna without moving his head, and he caught the moment of gloating before Myrna turned baleful eyes at him. She rushed forward and pressed herself against Padraig.

  “It’s so awful, Padraig. I’m so worried for my family, but my parents insist I must stay away.”

  Padraig didn’t move. He did nothing to comfort Myrna, even though his arms ached to wrap around her and sooth her worry. He’d seen the scorn in her eyes only a moment ago, but she sounded and felt like the Myrna he’d loved for so long. He looked at Cairren when she released his hand, but she wouldn’t look at him. He called out, “Ren,” as she walked through the door. But rather than look back, she slammed it shut.

  “Finally. Now you can stop pretending and hold me the way you want to,” Myrna murmured as she stroked her hand over his chest. He looked down at her, but it was like looking at a stranger. He realized he expected to see Cairren there, not another woman. Not even Myrna. It didn’t feel right, and something about the timing of a sickness was so calculatingly suspicious that he wanted to ask if she believed he was stupid or just gullible. He settled for another question.

  “When did my mother suggest this as a solution to you leaving?”

  “I don’t understand.” Myrna’s tone and expression were so confused and innocent that Padraig wondered if he’d jumped to conclusions too soon. But before either could say more, a blood-curdling scream rent the air. Padraig knew it was Cairren before he was through the door. He charged down the passageway as he watched Duncan pulling Cairren toward his chamber. She was struggling, and despite Duncan being smaller in stature than Padraig, he was still far too large for Cairren to fight against.

  “Let go,” Padraig bellowed.

  “Come now, little brother. You were always better at sharing than I was,” Duncan jeered.

  “Let go of my wife, Duncan, or I will rip you apart.”

  “The slut offered herself to me, walking around with her gown half hanging off her.”

  Padraig knew Cairren hadn’t laced the kirtle, but it had more than covered her. When he looked at her, there was a jagged tear at the shoulder seam and the sleeve dangled. The gown was pulled down low over Cairren’s breasts, but her chemise covered her skin.

  “I will kill you.” Padraig charged at his brother, knowing the man would defend himself first before worrying about Cairren. Duncan released her as he ran into his chamber and slammed the door shut. Padraig thrust his foot into the door, and the wood splintered from his kick. It swung open, and Padraig cornered Duncan. His fist lashed out, creating a loud crack as Duncan’s jaw broke. Padraig grabbed Duncan around the throat and drove him backwards until his head made a sickening thud as it struck the wall. He drove his fist into his brother’s eye and then under his chin.

  Padraig was beyond the point of any rational thought. He would never forget the sound of Cairren’s scream or the sight of her looking for him as Duncan dragged her toward his chamber. He’d never liked his brother, but he discovered in that moment that he held no brotherly love for the man either. Possibly committing fratricide didn’t deter him from beating Duncan. He reached for his dirk and pulled the blade free, but before the blade entered Duncan’s belly, two small hands tugged on his arm.

  “Stop, Padraig. You can’t kill him,” Cairren begged. “He’s your brother.”

  “And you’re my wife.”

  “What is going on here?” Micheil demanded as he and Mary entered the chamber, a sobbing Myrna leaning against Mary.

  “It’s her fault,” Myrna pointed at Cairren. “She isn’t content with just stealing Padraig from me. Now she’d take Duncan from Wynda. She’s turning brother against brother.” Myrna sobbed as her hand trembled.

  “A woman interested in a dalliance doesn’t scream like she’d aboot to be murdered,” Alex Armstrong said from the doorway. “I’ve known Cairren nearly my entire life, and I’ve heard her scream like that only twice before. Once when a wolf attacked us as children, and once when her sister fell into a ravine. That was fear and naught else you heard.”

  “Take her back to my chamber, Alex, and stay with her,” Padraig spoke as he looked at Cairren. She was still gripping his arm, her eyes round with terror. He understood she no longer feared for herself so much as what he would do to Duncan. “I know what I saw with my own eyes, and I will not let my brother abuse my wife.”

  “Padraig,” Cairren whispered. “Look at him. You’ve broken his jaw on both sides, and you’re having to hold him up. He’s already passed out. Let him go. Please.”

  Padraig’s eyes lingered on Cairren before he looked at his brother. He sheathed his dirk and let Duncan go, who slid down the wall, still unconscious.

  “Go to our chamber and wait for me there, Ren,” Padraig whispered. Neither noticed he’d called it their chamber, but others did.

  "’Our chamber,’” Micheil hooted. “Finally tired of creeping around at night?”

  Myrna looked back and forth as she understood Micheil’s meaning. “You’ve been with her other nights?”

  Padraig i
gnored Micheil and Myrna and nodded to Alex. Cairren shook her head and crossed her arms.

  “Angry at him or not, disgusted with him or not, Duncan needs his jaw set. Padraig and Alex, get him on the bed. You have no healer nor midwife, so unless you ken someone other than me who can set bones, I’m the best chance he has of ever chewing again.”

  “Don’t touch my son!” Mary flew at Cairren, but Padraig stepped between them.

  “Touch my wife, and she and I leave,” Padraig glared at his mother. “She’s right. She can set his jaw, and there are few others who would do as fine a job. Duncan brought this upon himself, but even though he attacked her, she’s still willing to help him. Duncan’s alive because Cairren stopped me from gutting him. She’s a better person than any of us. Alex, give me a hand.”

  Cairren drew in a deep breath before turning to Mary. She expected the woman to insult her before doing as she asked, but she hoped her mother-by-marriage would see some reason. “Lady Mary, I need whisky and bandages before I can start. Duncan will be in dreadful pain when he wakes, and I don’t want that to be in the middle of setting his jaw. Then I need to immobilize it to keep the bones aligned. Please.” Cairren stood with her hands clasped before her, her tone as deferential as she could muster.

  “Why should I do aught for you?” Mary snapped.

  “Because you’re really doing this for Duncan,” Cairren reminded her.

  Mary glared for a moment, then turned away in a swish of skirts. Wynda eased into the chamber and came to stand beside Cairren.

  “Are you well? I heard the commotion, but I didn’t think squeezing another body in here would do any good.” Wynda asked as she took in Cairren’s torn gown and the bruise developing on Cairren’s cheek that Cairren was trying to hide from Padraig. “I’m so sorry, Cairren.”

  “I’m well, and don’t you dare apologize for him. You might feel bad for me, but don’t you for a moment feel guilty on his behalf.” Cairren and Wynda embraced as they silently consoled one another, both Duncan’s victims.