Shadows contorted under her door from the light in the hall. She was never going to sleep with only her misery for company. Perhaps she thought too hastily when she asked to be alone. As footsteps treaded past her door, she sprung from the bed. She cracked open the door, sticking her head out and peeking down the hall. Fagan was staring at her with a lifted brow.
“Are ye all right?”
She hid her body behind the door since she wore only her nightrail. “Yes, I was…er, seeing—”
“Waiting for Ian?” He gave her a knowing look, and she returned a sheepish grin.
“Yes.”
“He will nae be long. He was coming right behind me.” No sooner did Fagan say the last word then Ian turned into the hall. “Oidhche mhath, Elizabeth. Munro.”
“Good night, Fagan,” said Elizabeth.
As Ian stood before her, she let out a little nervous cough. She couldn’t look him in the eye and bit her bottom lip. The door partially covered her body, and she was running her hand along the edge of the door.
“Do ye want me to come in, or are ye going to leave me in the hall?”
She spoke in a broken whisper. “I want you to come in.” She donned her robe and then shut the door as Ian lit the bedside candle.
He turned and measured her for a moment. Without any words, he removed his scabbard from his belt and rested his sword against the wall. His eyes darkened with emotion, and when he extended his arms, she stepped into his warm embrace.
“I don’t want to be alone.”
He rubbed her back. “I thought as much, lass.”
“Oh, Ian. I can’t get that man out of my head. I told him to stop. I must have done something to make him think I’d toss my skirts. Was it the way I dressed? What did I do?”
He pulled back and held her face firmly with both hands. For a long moment, she looked at him. “Sguir.” Stop. “There is naught ye did, and there is nay excuse for Condell’s actions. The bastard makes the rest of us look poorly. There are men like Condell in the world, Elizabeth, men who think they can take anything and that everything belongs to them. They’re dangerous fools. For as long as I live and breathe, nay one will ever touch ye like that again. I give ye my solemn vow.”
Tears fell down her cheeks, and he wiped them away with his thumb. “I give ye my body to protect ye, my heart to love ye, and my soul for all eternity. I am yours.” He stepped over to the bed and pulled back the blankets. “Ye’ve had a long day and need to rest.”
She closed the distance between them, and her fingers rested on his chest. “But I don’t want you to go.”
“I’m nae going anywhere. Come now, lass.” Ian gestured to the bed, and as she nestled into the mattress, he covered her with the blankets. He bent over her, placing a kiss on the top of her head, and brushed the hair away from her face. When he lowered himself to the floor beside the bed, she sat up.
“What are you doing?”
“I told ye. I’m nae leaving. I’m sleeping on the floor.”
“Ian, please don’t sleep on the floor. Come lay beside me.” When his eyes became sharp and assessing, she added, “Don’t give me that look. I trust you. I desire to be in your arms and need to erase the evening from memory. I can lay with you on the floor if you’d like.”
He rose and rubbed his hand over his brow. “Ye are nae going to sleep on the floor. I will come to your bed.”
* * *
Ian held Elizabeth in his arms, realizing she was everything good and pure in this world. She made him a better man. He hadn’t realized something was missing in his life until he found her, and she captured his heart.
She rested her head on his chest as her hand moved in tiny circular motions. “You make me feel safe.” Raising herself on her elbow, she hovered over him, her long hair falling over him like a waterfall. As she ran her fingers through his hair and along his jaw, her voice became as soft as a caress. “I love you. You need to know that.”
Her mouth gently pressed against his, and the touch of her lips set him aflame. Burying her face in his neck, she breathed a kiss there, and he wondered where this lovely enchantress had come from. Just when he thought she’d pull back, the lass reclaimed his lips, each time encouraging him to kiss deeper…harder.
When he could no longer hide his body’s reaction to her, he stilled her. “I will nae deny that I am enjoying this immensely, but we must stop. I—”
His words were smothered on his mouth. When her body moved to partially cover his, he growled and rolled her onto her back. His lips recaptured hers, demanding this time, as she returned his kiss. He took her mouth with a savage intensity and couldn’t get enough.
Lowering his hand, he unfastened her robe and was that much closer to touching her soft flesh. When she tugged on his tunic, he stilled, gazing into her eyes.
“I want to feel you, Ian. I want to be with you, only you.”
He sat up and grasped behind him, pulling off his tunic one-handed. Elizabeth ran her fingers along the defined lines of his bare chest, reaching for him as though he was her lifeline from this world into the next. When she looked up with passion-glazed eyes, he slowly removed her robe and tossed it across the room.
His body covered hers, and he placed a kiss on her lips, jaw, and throat between each word. “I would ne’er ruin a lass, especially ye.” He met her eyes. “I have ne’er known a lass quite like ye. Ye know me better than I know myself. I want naught more than to be with ye, claim ye as my own. I’ve ne’er wanted anything so badly in all my life. But if we do this, there will be nay turning back. Ye will be mine, and I will be yours. Am pòs thu mi? Tha gràdh agam ort.”
Her eyes lit up. “I’m afraid you’ll have to speak English, my laird.”
When Elizabeth addressed him as her laird, his entire being was filled with wanting and desire. “Will ye marry me? I love ye.”
She closed her eyes tightly as a single tear ran down her cheek. She lifted her hand gently to his jaw and gave him a tender smile. “I want nothing more than to be your wife.”
Their vow was sealed with a tender kiss.
It wasn’t long before Ian was on fire. He had never been more aroused in his life. Elizabeth’s innocent touches were driving him mad. His honorable intentions were forgotten, and all he could think of was tearing off her nightrail and thrusting inside her until the burning stopped.
His kisses became more demanding. He wanted her to know what she did to him. Never had he experienced this kind of urgency. She was so hot and willing. He could not get enough.
His tongue circled hers, probing in an anxious rhythm that mirrored his pulsing erection. Her soft whimpers only heated his desire. He slid his hands down to her waist and over her hips, molding every sweet curve closer to his body.
He tugged on her nightrail, enough to pull it past her shoulders, and his fingers encircled her breasts. The soft pink flesh was more than enough to fill his hands. He lifted her breast to his lips and flicked her nipple with his tongue.
“Elizabeth, ye taste so sweet,” he murmured.
He cupped her mounds with his rough hands, and she groaned as he caressed their softness. He wanted to savor her sweetness.
Easing his hand under the hem of her nightrail, he slid up the center of her silky thigh. She moaned against his ear and was so damn responsive. His finger swept her sex…so wet. She was more than ready.
He teased her with his hand, and her hips arched against him. Her tiny whimpers increased in urgency as she grabbed his arms, sculpting his muscles. God’s teeth! She was going to come apart in his hand.
When he felt her break apart, he pressed his finger against the sensitive part of her. His tongue delved into her mouth with the same rhythm as his finger pressing against her womanly heat.
She arched her back and cried out his name. He could not take his eyes off her. She was so tempting with her lips sl
ightly parted and her passion-glazed eyes. Her desire and responsiveness drove him wild.
God how he needed to be inside her.
Ian lifted her arms and pulled off her nightrail as she lay bare beneath his sultry gaze. He removed his kilt and dropped it to the floor. When she lowered her gaze and her eyes widened, he drugged her with kisses. His roughened hand slid across her silken belly down to the swell of her hips, rekindling her passion.
“Ye are so verra bonny, Elizabeth.”
He took her mouth with a savage force. Lowering his head, his tongue tantalized her hardened nipples. Instinctively, her body arched toward him. As he slipped his hands up her arms ever so slowly, she caressed the strong tendons in the back of his neck.
She gasped as he pressed his body against hers, the evidence of his desire rubbing against her belly. Moving his hands below her, he gripped her thighs, lifting her gently to straddle him. It was flesh against flesh, man against woman. He let out a tormented groan.
His hands skimmed her body, and she trailed tickling fingers up and down his arms. Passion pounded his blood, and he could sense the barely controlled power that coiled in his body.
With a single thrust, he made her his. She gasped in sweet agony and took him fully, her innocent touch sending him to even higher levels of ecstasy. He stilled, giving her body time to adjust, but it wasn’t long before they found a gentle rhythm that bound their bodies as one.
The feel of her soft skin against his was exalting. He reached down between them and rubbed her sensitive spot. When she let out a cry of delight, he threw back his head and sought his own release.
For once in his life, he was filled with an amazing sense of completeness. They were as one and would be man and wife—forever bonded. As far as he was concerned, they already were.
* * *
“Are ye all right? I tried to be careful.”
Elizabeth nestled her bottom into his groin as he wrapped his arms around her. “Mmm… I am more than all right, Laird Munro.”
She stroked her fingernails over the soft hairs on Ian’s arm for quite some time. His breathing slowed, and when a little snort escaped him, she smiled. The man could fall asleep anywhere.
Ian had a pleasant way of distracting her from the evening’s events. In fact, she wondered if he could distract her more often. Although her first time being with a man was uncomfortable, Ian was a tender lover. Speaking their vows was only a formality—there was nothing that would tear them apart. Who would’ve thought the young girl who adored this man would have her dreams come true? She was filled with a great sense of peace.
Elizabeth opened her eyes in the morning to Ian’s bare, firm buttocks beside the bed. He donned his tunic and then wrapped his kilt around him. When he bent to pick up his boots, his eyes met hers, and she smiled.
“Madainn mhath.”
“Good morning to you, too. Isn’t it still too early to rise?”
He sat on the edge of the bed and donned his boots. “Aye, but I’ll take my leave before anyone wakes up. Can ye grant me a boon?”
“After last night, I’d grant you anything.” She grinned when his face reddened.
“Can ye nae mention to Ruairi or Fagan that I asked for your hand?” When a worried expression crossed her face, he brushed his fingers across her cheek. “’Tis naught like that, lass. I have nae changed my mind. Ruairi knows that I’ve been trying to woo ye. I want to ask him properly for your hand.”
“Of course.” When he stood, she asked, “Could you please hand me my nightrail?”
He walked over and searched near the table, retrieving the cloth from under the chair. As he turned, he gave her a roguish grin as her nightrail hung between his fingers. “It seems to have made it across the room. Mayhap ye should come and get it, eh?”
Ian’s eyes widened when she threw the blankets from the bed and stood before him as bare as the day she was born. His stare was bold and assessed her frankly. The way he looked at her…the meaning of his gaze was obvious. His nearness made her senses spin.
“Lift your arms, lass.” He slowly lowered her nightrail over her arms until she was fully covered. “There is naught I would like more than to stay with ye all day abed, but I must take my leave.”
He lowered his head to kiss her, and once again his expert touch sent shivers of desire racing through her. She pulled him close, feeling his hardness press against her. His mouth seared a path down her neck, her shoulders, and then he pulled back and brushed a gentle kiss across her forehead.
“I must go.”
She walked him to the door, and he grabbed his sword that still rested against the wall. He lifted the latch on the door, and looking over his shoulder, he whispered, “Tha gaol agam ort.”
“And I love you.”
She gently closed the door behind him. When she heard men out in the hall, she paused, recognizing one of the voices all too well.
“Munro, what the hell did ye do?” asked Fagan.
Twenty
Ian opened Fagan’s door and shoved him back into his room. “Shut the hell up. Ye’ll wake up Ruairi. Should ye nae still be abed? What are ye doing awake now anyway?”
“I could nae go back to sleep. Munro, what am I going to do with ye, eh?” Fagan sighed in exasperation. “I was hoping ye had enough sense to leave Elizabeth’s chambers last eve, but clearly I was wr—”
“Donna even attempt to lecture me on taking my wife’s virtue before we were wed,” said Ian, interrupting vehemently. “As I recall, ye did the same with yours.”
“And Ruairi knocked me on my arse for it. Fuirich mionaid.” Wait a moment. “Did ye say your wife?” A flash of humor crossed Fagan’s face, and then he laughed in a deep, jovial way.
Ian only realized his slip of the tongue when the words had already escaped him. “Why am I plagued by friends who are such arses?”
“All I have to say is…’tis about damn time, Munro!” Fagan shook Ian’s hand and slapped him on the back.
“Aye, well, keep your mouth shut. Elizabeth has agreed to be mine and promised nae to say anything until I have a chance to ask Ruairi for her hand properly.” His eyes narrowed. “Heed my words, Fagan. I know ye gossip more than the lasses. I donna want ye to breathe a word about this to anyone.”
“Ye donna have to worry. ’Tis nay great secret I’ve been hoping ye’d find your way into each other’s arms.” A concerned look crossed his face. “How is the lass after last eve with Condell?”
“She’ll be all right in time. Although, she asked me what she did wrong that made Condell think she’d toss her skirts. I donna understand why that’s the first thing women think of when men misbehave. But I am thankful the lass knew enough to grasp the man by the bollocks to bring him to his knees before any more harm was done.”
“Och, aye. Well, we can all thank Ravenna for that.”
“In truth, it pains me to think about what would’ve happened to Elizabeth otherwise.”
Fagan’s eyes darkened with emotion. “I ne’er told ye this, but something similar happened to Grace many years ago.”
Ian lifted a brow, and there was an uncomfortable silence. “Was she rap—”
“Nay. Even though it took her some time to erase the man from memory, she finally managed. I think men like us are put on this earth to protect those we love, and now that Elizabeth will be your wife, she’ll have ye to shelter her from bastards like Condell.”
“I could nae have said the words better myself. I’m weary. I’ll meet ye below stairs in an hour.”
“I imagine the lass is feeling much the same.” When Fagan gave him a knowing look, Ian punched him in the arm.
“Arse.” Ian reached for the latch on the door.
“Aye. Munro…”
Ian glanced over his shoulder.
“I’m happy for ye both. I’m glad ye let Elizabeth into your he
art.” Fagan paused. “She wanted to be there for a long time.”
* * *
“Lady Elizabeth, the men are bringing up a tub for you to bathe,” said Mistress Betts through the door.
Elizabeth sat up, trying to clear the haze. “Just a moment.”
As she lifted the blankets and placed her feet on the floor, she noticed a spot of blood on the bed. She felt a rush of panic, knowing she wasn’t due for her monthly courses. But she didn’t have time to think about that now. Hastily, she donned her robe and flipped back the blankets into their rightful position. With one last look around her room to make certain everything was in order, she smoothed her unruly tresses and opened the door.
“Laird Munro said you wanted a bath this morn, my lady,” said Mistress Betts.
“Umm…yes. I’m sorry. I overslept.”
“That’s quite all right. The men are bringing up a tub, and the hot water will be ready soon.” Mistress Betts walked over to the table. “Let me push this and the chairs against the wall, and I’ll make room for you.”
“Don’t trouble yourself. Here. Let me help you with that.” Elizabeth lifted the other end of the table, and then they moved the two chairs flush against the wall.
Two men brought the tub through the door, and even though it was smaller than most, it was a tight fit, especially because there wasn’t a lot of open space to walk around in her room anyway. As soon as the men departed, three young boys dumped buckets of steaming water into the tub.
Mistress Betts smiled. “Do you need me to assist you?”
“I’m able to manage. Thank you.”
“I’m sorry. I forgot something.” Mistress Betts walked out into the hall and returned with towels, placing them on the table beside the tub. “There’s a rag to wash and a couple drying cloths. There’s also a small piece of soap. I’m sorry that I don’t have anything to offer you, my lady.”
“This is more than enough.”
Kill or Be Kilt Page 21