The men mounted their horses, clomping hoofbeats storming through the gate. Alex led John and Ian to the same area where he and Sybella had tethered their mounts. The men dismounted and Alex nodded over his shoulder.
“We only walked but a few yards into the trees.”
John and Ian followed him into the brush, and then Ian stopped. “Did ye walk away from Lady MacDonell here and walk that way?” asked Ian, pointing to Alex’s right.
“Aye, that is my trail and the lass walked this way,” said Alex, gesturing to the left.
Ian continued to survey the path along which Sybella had walked. “Lady MacDonell stopped here.” He searched the small area and rubbed his fingers over the bark of the tree, discovering where Sybella had pulled the arrow out. “From the placement of the arrow, the shot was taken from over there. In order to nae compromise the signs, it would be best if ye remained here, my laird. I will encircle this section and try to pick up on the man’s trail.”
Alex nodded and watched Ian study the ground for clues to guide them.
“Who do ye think would want to take a shot at your new wife’s head?” asked John, leaning his sword against the tree.
“I donna know. Our known enemy is the MacKenzie, but God’s teeth, I wed the man’s daughter. If it was the MacKenzie, surely the daft fool would take aim for my head and nae that of his own daughter. I donna like it.”
“Alex, I donna know what ye are thinking, but our clan would ne’er plot something against a lass—even if she was a MacKenzie.”
Alex ran his hand through his hair. “And I know as much. That is what troubles me. If nae the MacKenzies or the MacDonells, then who?”
“My laird,” said Ian, returning with a disgusted look upon his face. “There is nay trail.”
Alex raised his brow in surprise. “What do ye mean?”
“There are nay signs of another man.”
***
Sybella sat confined in her bedchamber for hours. She paced, sat, slept, and paced some more. How much longer would she be made to suffer? She couldn’t for the life of her discern who would intentionally try to injure her—or worse. Granted, she wasn’t sure of the number of enemies her father had managed to gather over the years, but it couldn’t be that many. A sudden thought popped into her mind and she stilled.
Praise the saints.
She was under the roof of her father’s enemy. Could a MacDonell have enough hatred for her that he would want to kill her? That made no sense. Alex’s clan had already benefited from her dowry. Her death would serve no purpose—unless, of course, her husband found her out and wanted her removed as his wife, permanently. Sybella heard herself swallow.
What was she going to do? She was trapped here. She closed her eyes and silently prayed that Colin would hear her thoughts. Perhaps even come for her. She couldn’t imagine sleeping another night in this bed. She’d have to sleep with one eye open.
When there was a knock at her door, she stiffened.
“Ella, ’tis me,” said Alex.
Sybella slowly opened the door and let him in. He had a strange look on his face that she couldn’t quite figure out. If he’d discovered her purpose, he did not say. When she closed the door, he turned and hesitated. In her nervousness, she blurted out the first words that came to mind.
“What did ye find out?”
He ran his hand through his hair. “Naught.”
“What do ye mean?”
“I donna understand it. Ian is my best tracker. He found my trail when I broke off from ye, and he found your trail where ye stopped by the tree, but there is nay evidence of another man. It was as if he wasnae there.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “I didnae shoot the arrow at myself, Alex.”
He reached out to touch her, and she gently pulled away from him. “I am nae saying ye did. I am saying there are nay signs of another. Do ye know of anyone who would want to see ye harmed, lass?”
“Besides ye?” Sybella couldn’t help herself. The words were out of her mouth before she had a chance to stay them.
Alex’s eyes narrowed. “Me?”
“If ye donna want me as your wife, I—”
He quickly closed the distance between them, and her last words were smothered by his lips. He forced her mouth open with his trusting tongue, and she succumbed to the domination of her husband’s kiss. Blood pounded in her brain, leapt from her heart, and made her knees tremble. If not for his hands supporting her, she would have fallen.
The caress of his lips on her mouth set her aflame. He was so warm. Hot. She couldn’t miss the musky smell of him as he pressed her closer.
She tried to deny the pulsing knot that had formed in her stomach and her wildly beating heart, which was the only sound audible.
His shoulders heaved as he breathed, and his closeness was so male, so bracing. Her mind told her to resist, but her body refused to listen.
He swept her, weightless, into his arms and carried her silently to the bed. Her head fit perfectly in the hollow between his shoulder and neck.
He eased her down onto the bed and reclaimed her lips, pressing himself on top of her. She was made to endure the cruel ravishment of his mouth. His kiss became punishing, as if he scolded her for the words she had attempted to speak.
When he pulled back, Sybella tried to swallow the lump that lingered in her throat. His eyes searched her face, reaching into her thoughts.
“I would ne’er cause ye harm, Sybella.” He brushed back the hair from her face. “I am proud to have ye as my wife.”
Before she could respond, Alex reclaimed her mouth with savage intensity. She’d never dreamt that she could crave one man’s touch with so much eagerness. The wicked sensations left her burning with fire. For someone who had wanted to kill her, he certainly went out of his way to give her pleasure.
He pulled down her dress over her shoulders. She could barely sustain the gasp that escaped her as his thumb began stroking small circles over the sensitive tip of her breast. She closed her eyes, allowing the pleasure to crash down upon her. If she was going to die, praise the saints, this was the way she wanted to meet her maker—in the arms of her enemy.
His lips trailed a path down her neck, and her body turned to liquid fire, heavy warmth pooling between her legs.
“Ye are so beautiful.” Alex’s voice was tight with strain.
When his hand slid under the edge of her skirts, Sybella’s breath caught as his fingers trailed their way up along her thigh, then higher still.
She froze and could no longer return her husband’s kiss. She couldn’t think about anything other than his hand and where it was going to touch her.
“’Tis all right, Ella,” he whispered against her ear.
Nothing could have prepared her for the sweet rapture of his finger brushing against her tingling flesh. Over and over, he swept against her. She knew she should be shocked. This had to be a sin to feel so wonderful.
“God, ye are so wet for me.”
She writhed in sweet agony. Instinctively, she lifted her hips against his hand, wanting more. As if he sensed her impending need, he finally slid his finger inside her. God’s teeth! What was happening to her?
Her breathing was coming hard and fast, and she squeezed her thighs against her husband’s hand.
“Alexander…”
“Just come for me, sweet Ella.”
“Alex…”
She tensed as the force of her release hit her and Alex continued to rub her most sensitive spot. Her body ached for his touch. She could no longer control the outcry of delight as she shattered into a million pieces.
She called out his name again and he let out a guttural moan. He hastily released his kilt and moved his hard body atop hers as she caressed the length of his back. His lips brushed her nipples, and when he suckled her breast, she thought she
’d died in bittersweet rapture.
Sybella snuggled against him as their legs intertwined. Sweat beaded upon his brow. Everything was so hot. So wet. And with one quick thrust, they were as one.
He slowly moved inside her and she waited for the pain to come. To her surprise, a spurt of hungry desire spiraled through her instead. She could feel the heat of his body course down the entire length of hers.
His hardness caused her whole being to flood with passion, and she was again roused to the peak of desire. She’d never dreamt she could feel so warm and secure in her husband’s embrace.
“I beg ye nae to count sheep,” he said through gritted teeth.
She spoke in between breaths. “I have nay intention…of counting…sheep.”
As if he sensed the awakened response within her, he moved faster and she completely surrendered to his masterful seduction. She wanted to yield to the burning sweetness that seemed captive within her.
Passion rose within her like the hottest of fires, clouding her brain. They both came together, exploding in a downpour of fiery sensations.
And she gasped in sweet agony—again.
***
As Alex lay next to Sybella, both of them spent, he briefly contemplated at what point he had lost all self-control. When Ian had assured him there was no trail, many thoughts had raced through Alex’s mind. Frankly, bedding his wife was not one of them.
The lass had stood defensively before him, blatantly accusing him of wanting to harm her. She had made him angry, and Alex wanted to do nothing more than teach her a lesson. He had meant every word when he spoke his marriage vows, so he was bound by duty to protect her. How could the daft female think he would deliberately cause her harm? For the first time, he had wanted to be with her—and not because it was his duty. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was starting to care for her, and he hoped his actions showed her that.
Sybella nestled her bottom against his groin, and he wrapped his arm around her waist. “Are ye all right?” he asked softly.
“I donna know. Mayhap ye should pinch me to make certain I am nae dead.”
He chuckled in response.
She turned over, facing him. Lifting her hand, she brushed the hair from his cheek. “Ye told me before that ye want honesty between us.” Sybella looked him directly in the eye and paused. “Did ye really want me as your wife?”
Praise the saints. The question was like a double-edged sword. No matter what he answered, he was doomed to suffer a most unpleasant fate. Granted, he was the one who had lectured the lass and demanded she spoke the truth. And he couldn’t very well expect her to speak openly with him if he didn’t follow his own advice.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
Alex swallowed his pride and shifted his manhood away from her. “Nay. Howbeit it was naught against ye, lass. I didnae want to settle myself with any wife.” He silently reflected a moment. “After my father’s passing, Aunt Iseabail made me realize I needed to continue the MacDonell line. In order to accomplish that, I needed a wife. Your father offered your hand and I think the fates stepped in. MacKenzie or nae, ye are my wife, Ella. I am glad ’tis ye.”
For a moment, he sensed an odd twinge of disappointment and then she quickly masked her expression. “I donna know of anyone who would want to cause me harm. Ian didnae find anything?”
“He found the tree where the arrow struck, but there were nay signs of anyone besides the two of us. I donna know of any man who can cover his tracks without leaving a trace of something. It troubles me. Ye are well protected within the walls of Glengarry, lass. There is nay sense worrying upon it. And if ye take your leave from the castle, ye will have an escort.”
Sybella sighed. “Aye, but I donna like the idea of the stone walls closing in on me like a prisoner, trapped within my own home.”
“Until we find who is responsible for—”
“Taking aim at my head?”
“Cease your worried thoughts. ’Tis my responsibility to see ye safe. I will protect ye, Ella, and ye have naught to worry upon.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Aye?”
“My laird, there is a messenger at the gates.”
“I will be there in a moment,” said Alex.
He rose from the bed. As he grabbed his kilt from the floor, Sybella stood and straightened her dress. Her bonny locks were tousled and she looked…enchanting. They looked at each other and smiled in earnest.
Alex placed his hand on her shoulder in a possessive gesture. “I hope this time was much more pleasant for ye.”
Sybella flushed miserably. “It wasnae…unpleasant.”
He lifted her chin with his finger and his eyes narrowed. “It will only get better.” When she licked her lips, he gave her a kiss she would surely remember. “Ye donna have to stay within the walls, but donna leave the gates.”
As he walked toward the door, she called after him. “Alex, thank ye.” She wrung her hands. “I truly didnae think ye would want to kill me. At least, I hoped ye didnae.”
“Ella, we have only been wed a few days. Give me time.” A smile played on his lips and he closed the door behind him.
He walked into the bailey and approached the messenger.
“My laird, a message from Laird Ciaran MacGregor of Glenorchy,” the man said, holding out the missive.
Alex read the penned note and smiled. Aunt Iseabail would be pleased. Dismissing the messenger, Alex tapped the letter in his hand and went in search of his aunt. The last place he looked should’ve been the first. As he approached the garden, the sight before him was most definitely not what he had expected to see.
He stopped and watched his lady wife, who was down on all fours. She dug around the bottom of a bush and then rose to her feet, pulling at the dense branches. When the bush didn’t budge, Sybella squatted low to the ground and her legs encircled the unruly shrub. She tugged several additional times, and on the last attempt, she let out a loud moan and fell flat on her arse with the bush splayed in her lap.
Alex couldn’t control the rumble of laughter that escaped him. “I am betting the bush won,” he said as he approached her. He reached out and lifted the shrub, which had her pinned to the ground. He tossed the unruly plant to the side and then extended his hand to pull her up.
Of course when the lass fell to the ground, he couldn’t help but come to her rescue. Her tresses were tousled, and she had a smudge of dirt on her nose, cheeks, and forehead. About the only spots not covered in soil were her rosy lips. When her hazel eyes stared back at him, his heart hammered in his ears. He could’ve just stood there watching her—that was until Aunt Iseabail spotted him.
“Alexander, come and look what happened to my roses.” Aunt Iseabail pointed to the empty spot in the garden.
He carefully guarded his expression as he studied the dirt. “I am sure ye will find something else to plant there, Aunt.”
“I suppose, but I cannae believe my roses were destroyed by an idiot.”
A giggle escaped his wife, and she promptly turned her head away from him when he gazed in her direction. He needed to change the subject, fast.
“A messenger arrived from Glenorchy.”
Aunt Iseabail’s eyes lit up in surprise. “Glenorchy? And how are Rosalia and her bairn?”
“I donna know. Ye can ask her when she arrives within a sennight.”
His aunt clapped her hands and then embraced him. “Nephew, that is wonderful news. We must prepare for a bairn under our roof.”
Praise the saints. He knew it was coming. It should only take a moment.
“Speaking of which…”
And there it was.
To his surprise and gratefulness, his wife interjected. “Who is Rosalia?”
“My apologies. I should have explained,” said Alex. He walked over to Sybella and sat down beside her. �
�Rosalia is my cousin from Glenorchy. ’Tis a rather long tale. Are ye sure ye wish to hear it?”
“Aye, please continue.”
“A long time ago, Aunt Iseabail’s son left the Highlands and wed an English woman. This woman refused to wed him unless he agreed to live in England. At the time, he thought he truly loved the lass and gave up everything—his clan and wealth—and moved to Liddesdale, which is between the English and Scottish borders.
“They had one daughter, Rosalia. Lady Caroline Armstrong, Rosalia’s mother, had a taste for treasures that were beyond her means. So much, in fact, that the clan coffers were emptied by her lavish spending. In order to replenish the coin, Rosalia’s parents arranged for her to wed an unsavory English lord. My cousin simply refused and they beat her horribly for her insolence.”
Intense astonishment touched Sybella’s pale face. “That is terrible.”
“Rosalia took matters into her own hands and fled Liddesdale. With only her mount, she was trying to reach Aunt Iseabail here in Glengarry.”
“Alone? Through the Highlands?”
“Aye. Laird Ciaran MacGregor of Glenorchy found her and offered her protection. The MacGregor was to escort Rosalia to Glengarry and he did—only to be wed. The two of them were clearly a love match, and my cousin’s bairn is almost a year old now.”
“Alexander, is that all ye’re going to tell the lass? What about your daring rescue?” asked Aunt Iseabail.
Apparently, out of all Aunt Iseabail’s ailments, her hearing was unaffected. “Sybella doesnae need to hear it.”
His wife winked at Aunt Iseabail and smiled. “Come now, Husband. I would love to hear of your daring rescue.” Her eyes twinkled with amusement.
He rolled his eyes. “It wasnae that daring.” Alex turned his head over his shoulder at the sound of approaching footsteps.
“Pardon the intrusion, my laird. There is a MacKenzie at the gates.”
Ten
Sybella followed her husband into the bailey. Her bond with Colin was strong. Perhaps her brother had sensed her initial unease and come to her rescue after all. She would be sure to tell him his concern was unwarranted. But as she approached the man standing in the bailey, her mind spun.
Victoria Roberts - [Bad Boys of the Highlands 03] Page 10