by Connie Mason
“I had a bath prepared for you,” Lara said as they climbed the staircase to their chamber.
A wicked gleam darkened Julian’s eyes. “Christy said we had an hour. What I have in mind won’t take that long.”
Lara opened the door to their chamber. “Don’t you ever think of anything else?”
She squealed in surprise when Julian swept her from her feet and carried her into the chamber, slamming the door with his foot. “How can I think of anything else when a wild Gypsy tempts me beyond endurance?”
“Julian Thornton! I do no such thing.”
“You don’t have to do anything, sweeting,” Julian rasped. “I find your scent, the way you walk, the way you look at me highly arousing.” He spied the tub sitting before the fire and let Lara slide down his body. “You can scrub my back.”
He began tearing off his clothing. From the corner of his eye he saw Lara watching him. He heard her sigh, a soft, sweet sound of longing, and he smiled. Soon he’d change that sigh into a scream of ecstasy. Driven by an urgent need of his own, Julian stepped into the tub and scrunched down into the water.
“Would you care to join me?” he asked hopefully. “I can make room for you.”
“I’ve already bathed,” Lara informed him. “Besides, I want to hear about the attack and what it means.”
“Later,” Julian hedged. He leaned forward, bringing his knees up to his chin. “Can you reach my back?”
Lara stared at his broad back a moment, then dropped to her knees behind him. She soaped a cloth and began scrubbing with more vigor than was warranted.
“Take it easy, love, I’ve grown rather fond of my hide.”
“Sorry,” Lara muttered, easing the pressure. A moment later she tossed the cloth into the bathwater and stood up. “Done. You can wash the rest yourself.”
“Pity,” Julian said, looking for all the world like a child who’d just been denied dessert.
Lara turned away while Julian completed his bath. She didn’t dare watch him. She’d become aroused just scrubbing his back. Last night and again this morning she’d been so thoroughly sated she wouldn’t have believed she could still feel desire scant hours later. The power Julian wielded over her senses was frightening. It wasn’t right that she should love him so much while his feelings for her were tepid at best.
“Hand me the drying cloth,” Julian said, rousing Lara from her silent ruminations.
Lara picked up the cloth she’d placed on the hearthstone to warm and offered it to him.
“Hold it out for me,” Julian said, splashing water on the floor as he rose from the tub.
Lara stretched out the cloth, peering over the top at him. Her breath stalled in her lungs when he lunged from the tub and shook himself like an animal, a magnificent animal. He was even more impressive nude than he was dressed. Even at rest his manhood was imposing. But it didn’t remain at rest for long. Her cheeks pinkened when it began to stir and stretch. Scant seconds later it was fully aroused. Thick and hard, it rose proud and defiant from a dark forest. Lara literally tossed the drying cloth at him and turned away. Letting him see how much she wanted him would only fuel his arrogance.
She felt his hand on her shoulder and stiffened. “Look at me, sweeting. There’s no shame to feel desire for your husband.”
Lara whirled around. “ ’Tis not shame I feel, Julian. ’Tis regret. I wish …”
He dropped the drying cloth and drew her into his arms. “What do you wish, love?” She hesitated. “The truth, Lara. I’ll give you whatever you desire, if it’s within my power to do so,” he added.
“I love you, Julian. I won’t be happy until I make you love me.”
He kissed her with such insistent fervor that her world spun with heady delight. She knew he loved her. Why couldn’t he just say it?
“Perhaps my problem is that I care about you more than I should, more than I have a right to care about another woman,” Julian whispered against her lips.
Stunned, Lara leaned back and stared at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It’s something I have to work out on my own, love.”
She whirled away from him. “Diana and your dead child will always be closer to your heart than me and the children we have together.”
“You’re wrong, Lara.”
“Prove it, Julian,” Lara challenged. “Why can’t you just say the words?”
“I’ve never made love to anyone like I make love to you. I’ve never felt the things I feel with you.”
Lara frowned. “That’s a good start. Was it so difficult?”
“Aye, for reasons you can’t even guess.”
“Tell me.”
“I don’t know how to explain this, love. It’s difficult. Diana would be alive today if not for my involvement with the government. She was an innocent victim and now she’s gone. The guilt I feel over her death is a tremendous burden.”
“Why can’t you move past Diana’s death?”
“Because her death isn’t the only guilt I carry. I didn’t love her enough, Lara. I realize that now. I’ve known it for a very long time but didn’t want to acknowledge it. My feelings for you are stronger than those tepid emotions I felt for Diana, and the knowledge eats at my soul. I caused an innocent woman’s death, a woman I didn’t love as much as she loved me. I can’t put that behind me, not yet. Do you understand now what I’m trying to say?”
“Not really, Julian, tell me more.”
He glanced over at the clock sitting on the mantle. “Not now. ’Tis late. We’ve barely time …” He bore her backward, toward the bed. Her knees hit the edge and he lifted her onto the mattress. “I’ve thought of nothing but this all day.”
His expression was taut, his emotions concealed in the shadows created by the thick fringe of his lashes. A lock of hair fell over his forehead. Sweat gleamed on his bunched shoulder muscles and straining biceps as he leaned over her.
He undressed her slowly, arousing her with great passion and admirable restraint, making her body sing and her blood thicken. She was sobbing incoherently when he finally parted her thighs and rocked into her. She clung to him, riding the increasing tempo of his thrusts, gyrating her hips against the torrent of sensation buffeting her.
She tried to make it last, tried to will away the exquisite, wrenching pleasure that beat through her, in her, over her. But it was no use. She sobbed his name and let go, splintering, careening, spinning as pulse after pulse of intense sensations battered her.
She was floating in a sea of raw pleasure as Julian drove into her one last time, then stiffened. His head snapped back and his hips ground against hers. A deep, body-wrenching convulsion set him free. He climaxed violently, then collapsed.
He was heavy, but Lara relished his heat and hardness. Her arms came around him, holding him tightly. After a few minutes, he raised up and pushed himself away.
“I always get a little wild when I make love to you,” he rasped. “I didn’t mean for it to go so fast.”
“It’s a good thing it did,” Lara said, smiling. “We’re already late for supper.”
Julian gave an exhausted moan. “If I weren’t so hungry I’d be tempted to skip the evening meal.”
“You might be willing to go hungry but I’m not,” Lara said, pushing herself out of bed. “Get up, lazybones.”
They washed and dressed quickly and hurried downstairs. The buzz of conversation came to a halt and everyone stared at them when they entered the hall. Moments later the hall erupted in a cacophony of laughter and clapping. Blushing, Lara slipped into her chair and pulled Julian down beside her.
“Julian,” she hissed into his ear. “Do you think they know why we’re late?”
Julian spared her an indulgent grin. “They know exactly what kept us, love. Don’t fret, it’s expected of newlyweds.”
Sinjun confirmed Julian’s words.
“We started our meal without you and Lara,” he said with a twinkle. “Actually, I’m surprised to see you
made it at all.”
“What? And miss Mary’s surprise?” Julian scoffed.
“Ah, there ye be, me fine lord,” Mary said, bustling into the hall bearing something on a plate that didn’t look edible. “I made this specially for yer pleasure.” She set the plate before Julian with a flourish. “Enjoy, Yer Lordship.”
Julian glanced down at the grayish blob quivering on the plate and wrinkled his nose. It looked and smelled like a bloated piece of offal. “What in bloody hell is that? Is this a joke, Sinjun?”
Sinjun nearly choked on his laughter. “ ’Tis no joke, brother. Have you never heard of haggis? ’Tis a delicacy in these parts.”
Julian glanced at Lara. She was trying not to laugh and losing the battle. “What in bloody hell is haggis? Is it edible?”
Mary glared at him. “I wouldna be serving it to ye if it wasna edible,” she huffed. “I thought to honor ye by making ye a dish relished by all Highlanders.”
“Do you know what’s in this?” Julian asked in an aside to Lara. “Am I expected to eat it?”
“ ’Tis a mixture of liver, oats, and spices cooked in a sheep’s stomach,” she replied. “ ’Tisn’t so bad once you get used to it.”
“Cut into it, Julian,” Sinjun urged. “Mary is a wonderful cook.”
Julian didn’t want to offend Mary, and rather than suffer her disappointment, he cut into the haggis. The revolting filling oozed from the stomach, assaulting Julian’s senses with its odious scent. His gut clenched and he swallowed convulsively.
“Dig in, Yer Lordship,” Mary said gleefully. “I’ve made enough for everyone.”
As if on cue, the kitchen help brought out steaming platters of haggis, which they passed around the various tables. Julian’s face paled as he watched the Highlanders cut into their haggis and stuff it into their mouths with obvious relish.
“Go on,” Sinjun urged. “It won’t kill you, Julian.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Julian muttered. Still and all, how bad could it be when everyone seemed to be enjoying it. Even Sinjun, who had eaten food prepared by the finest chefs in England, seemed to have acquired a taste for haggis.
Julian knew everyone, including Mary, was watching him. Girding himself for the worst, he placed a small portion in his mouth and chewed. Taste burst in his mouth, and it wasn’t pleasant. He started to gag, thought better of it, and chewed slowly, aware that this was the greatest trial he had ever faced. If he spat out the haggis, everyone would laugh at him. If he swallowed, he wasn’t sure he could keep it down.
“How is it?” Sinjun asked in a teasing tone. “Does it suit your palate?”
Unable to swallow, Julian spoke around the haggis that seemed to grow in his throat. “ ’Tis … tolerable.”
“Ye have to swallow it to enjoy it,” Mary encouraged.
Julian forced the haggis down his throat, felt the mess hit his stomach, and turned visibly green. After a few deep breaths and a long swallow of ale, he was able to speak normally. “ ’Tis not something I’d care to eat every day.”
“Nor once a year. Nor again in your lifetime,” Sinjun guffawed.
“Pass it down the table, someone will gladly eat your share,” Christy said. Julian eagerly obliged. Mary appeared satisfied that Julian had at least tried it and retreated into the kitchen with a pleased smile curving her lips. He was relieved when the main course arrived moments later.
“That woman is diabolical,” Julian muttered in Mary’s wake. That only brought on more good-natured laughter.
As the meal progressed, Julian couldn’t help thinking about the men who had been sent to kill him. Protecting Lara and his family came before any consideration for himself. He knew what he had to do.
After the prolonged meal, Julian saw Lara stifle a yawn. He promptly excused them and took her off to bed. The moment the door closed behind him, Lara turned on him, all signs of exhaustion vanished.
“You’re not getting off that easily, Julian. You never did tell me what you intended to do about the attack. They won’t go away, you know. They’re just waiting for you to leave the castle again. I can’t bear to see you killed.”
Julian plowed his fingers through his hair in a distracted manner. “Remaining at Glenmoor could endanger you and my family. Those men would have killed Sinjun today and thought nothing of it. I refuse to become a virtual prisoner within the walls of Glenmoor. I have to leave. Sinjun offered his Highlanders as escort should I decide to return to London.”
“When would we leave?”
“You mean when would I leave,” Julian corrected. “You’re not going anywhere until the Jackal and his cohorts are in prison. They’re not above using you to get to me.”
“You’re not going anywhere without me,” Lara said, giving her head a stubborn shake.
“Don’t make this any harder than it is, love. Your life is precious to me. You’ll stay here with Sinjun and Christy until I say ’tis safe to leave.”
“We’ll see,” Lara muttered as she began to undress. A few minutes later she slid naked beneath the sheets.
Julian undressed and joined her. His arms went around her and he pulled her close. “Sleep, love. You look exhausted. We’ll decide what’s to be done later.”
A week passed with no further attempts on Julian’s life. Whenever he left the protection of Glenmoor, enough Highlanders accompanied him to discourage even the bravest of men. At the end of the week the consensus was that danger no longer existed, that the Jackal’s men, fearing the Highlanders, had left. Neither hide nor hair had been seen of them since that initial attack.
Christy decided it was safe to travel to Inverness for winter supplies and consulted with Sinjun. Sinjun agreed and recruited several burly clansmen to accompany them.
Lara was looking forward to visiting Inverness. It was a fairly large city with many shops, and she was in need of warm clothing.
They started out early in the morning. Julian, Sinjun and the women rode beside the Highlanders. A wagon to carry supplies back to Glenmoor followed.
They reached the bustling city shortly before the noon hour. Lara’s stomach was grumbling so loudly that when she saw a pie seller hawking his wares, she asked Julian to buy her a meat pie. Julian complied, buying pies for everyone. He laughed as she gobbled down the savory pastry and licked her fingers afterward.
“Hungry were you?” he teased.
“Famished.” She and Christy exchanged meaningful looks, then joined in the laughter. Soon she’d have to tell Julian about the baby, but not yet. She wanted to give him every opportunity to declare his love first.
“Oh look,” Lara said, pointing to the shop bearing the sign of a mantua maker. “What a lovely fur-lined cloak in the window. Can we stop there?”
“It’s right next to the weaver’s shop where I buy woolen material,” Christy said. She looked at Julian. “Is it all right if Lara and I shop while you and Sinjun go about your business?”
“Only if guards accompany you,” Julian replied, looking to Sinjun for confirmation.
“Aye,” Sinjun agreed. “Normally the women would be safe in Inverness, but no sense taking chances. We’ve seen no sign of the Jackal’s men, but that doesn’t mean they’re not still around. Gavin and three other men will accompany them while they shop.”
The party split up then, four men tagging along with the women and the rest forming a protective ring around Julian.
“I knew if we bided our time we’d find the opportunity we’ve been waiting for,” Crockett said gleefully.
Crockett and Dorks were disguised in plaids and bonnets, making them difficult to differentiate from the townspeople going about their business on this fine market day. “They didn’t even know they were being followed,” Crockett continued. “Had we been stupid and brought all our men to town, we would have been conspicuous, but just the two of us raised no suspicion.”
“What now?” Dorks asked. “What can two men accomplish with those savage Highlanders protecting Scorpion?�
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“ ’Twould be foolhardy to attack Scorpion with the odds against us, but we might fare better with his woman. Once we have her, Scorpion will follow.”
“Look!” Crockett crowed, “the group is splitting up. Come on, keep the wench in your sights.”
They turned the corner and dogged the women’s trail. With their bonnets pulled low over their foreheads, they followed on foot, garnering scant attention.
“The Gypsy wench is entering the mantua maker shop, and the Macdonald laird is going into the weaver’s shop,” Dorks hissed.
Crockett grinned delightedly. “Everything is working in our favor. Hie yerself to the livery and rent a closed coach. Bring it around to the alley behind the shops. Leave the rest to me.”
Dorks didn’t question his superior as he sprinted off down the street to do Crockett’s bidding.
The cloak in the shop window was exactly what Lara wanted. “Are you coming in with me?” she asked Christy.
“Why don’t you buy your cloak and browse around a bit while I duck into the weaver’s shop and purchase the woolen material I need. I’ll join you when I’m finished.”
She turned to Gavin. “Is that all right, Gavin?”
Gavin thought a moment, then nodded. “The shops are side by side, two men can wait for ye outside the weaver’s shop and the other two can wait for Lara outside the mantua maker’s.”
“I won’t be long, Lara,” Christy promised. “Take all the time you need. Our husbands will spend hours examining the weapons Sinjun intends to purchase as replacements for the old and obsolete ones in our armory.”
Lara entered the shop and looked around, delighted with the array of ready-made clothing. A small, birdlike woman came from behind a curtain and flitted around her.
“How may I help ye, my lady?”
“That cloak in the window. I’d like to purchase it.”
“ ’Tis of the finest quality, and feel the fur. ’Twill be warm and soft against yer tender skin.”
“How much?”
They haggled over the price a few moments before reaching a mutually satisfying conclusion.