by Amy Jarecki
“You were supposed to take them through the kitchens first.”
“I tried, but ’tis a bit difficult to tell a horse’s arse he must start in the kitchens when he turns and marches for the keep’s front door.” She drew a hand to her forehead. “Dear Lord, I might have swooned. Do ye ken how exasperating it was to tell those men my mother had died in this chamber last eve?”
Mairi stepped out from behind the curtains. “And of the sweat. Goodness, we shall need to scrub the entire castle.”
Dunn sheathed his weapon. “I reckon it was a stroke of genius. I’ll wager they couldn’t spirit away fast enough.”
“Aye?” Mrs. Struan thrust her finger into his sternum. “But if they do any searching, they’ll discover my mother met the Lord ten years past.”
“Well, I think you performed splendidly,” said Mairi.
“Perhaps we pulled the wool over their eyes this day, but sooner or later, someone will figure out you are hiding right under their noses. How much longer must we carry on with this charade?”
“Not long,” said Dunn. “My Lord Seaforth will not fail me. Soon all will be set to rights; we just need to remain another sennight.” Now that Mairi had agreed to his proposal, he could ride on the morrow and face her father. But having Seaforth’s backing would only serve to strengthen his case. For Her Ladyship’s sake, Dunn preferred to do what he must to avoid a bloody feud.
“At best,” added Mairi.
Mrs. Struan looked between Dunn and Mairi, a frown stretching her careworn features. “I ken you are both high-ranking members of the gentry and I am but a lowly servant, but I have lived to see many great men fall to their ruin. I do not want to see either of you hurt. You may not want my opinion, but as your former nursemaid, I believe it is my duty to give it.” She shook a bony finger. “Every soul in the Highlands kens the Earl of Cromartie is a shrewd and ruthless man. There had best not be anything untoward going on between you pair, lest there will be hell to pay. By my oath, I swear it.”
Chapter Nineteen
As Mairi turned the page of her book, she glanced toward the noises coming from the laird’s chamber and smiled. Dunn said he was preparing a surprise and had made her promise not to open the door until he came to fetch her.
Who knew the Chieftain of Clan MacRae could be so romantic? Who knew his brooding scowls and smoldering looks had been masking the love the braw man harbored in his heart all along?
Sighing, she hugged the book to her breast. The past fortnight had been marvelous. Though she desperately wanted to be able to venture outside or explore the castle alone, Dunn had done so much to make the isolation bearable. Since her fever broke, her days had been filled with new love, filled with the exploration of the flesh, of passion between a man and a woman she’d never dreamed possible.
The only thing she lacked was freedom. But soon Dunn would have everything set to rights. She would explain the depth of their love to her father, and they would marry in the Cathedral of the Church of Saint Andrew. Mairi had always dreamed of an enormous wedding with all the Highland lords and chieftains in attendance. There would be a feast after, and she would dance and dance into the wee hours of the night.
“M’lady.” Dunn peeked his handsome head through the door and smiled broadly. Och, how she loved his smile. “The evening meal is served.”
“In your chamber?”
He pushed the door wider and bowed. “An outdoor meal with a bonfire, brought inside.”
She took his offered hand and stepped through the threshold. The furniture had been pushed aside, and in its place were pillows of all shapes and sizes set in a half circle around the hearth. She drew a hand over her mouth. “How gloriously diverting! But…”
“What?”
“You have lit the fire in your hearth. Any dragoons who come snooping will be doubly suspicious.”
“I doubt they’ll set upon us this night.” He led her to the cushions. “The fare this eve is finely milled white bread, roast lamb, cheese, and strawberries. I hope that meets with your approval.”
“I am impressed, thank you. It all looks delicious.” He helped her slide down and recline against a pile of pillows. Mairi licked her lips at the banquet spread in front of the hearth, illuminated by two tapers burning in the center. Her gaze rested on the squat wine bottle in the center. “And to drink, sir?”
“A full-bodied Bordeaux.” He uncorked the bottle and poured two glasses.
Mairi sipped. “Mm. I do believe this is the most flavorful vintage we have tasted yet.”
Dunn slid down beside her and tapped his glass to hers. “May we share many more bottles of wine, each one better than the last.”
“Agreed,” said Mairi, craning her neck for a kiss. “I am looking forward to so many hours of enjoyment.”
“And I am looking forward to telling all of Scotland that you are mine.”
Warmed by the fire, together they feasted as if they were still in the cave. The fire flickered in Dunn’s eyes and gave him a mysterious look. Who but he would have thought to dine inside as if they were sitting before a campfire? All her life Mairi had sat at the dining table with her father in Castle Leod with her back ramrod straight, her shoulders tense, her stays laced so tight that she scarcely ate more than a few bites. Heavens, at Eilean Donan, Dunn removed her stays nearly as fast as she put them on.
“What were your parents like?” she asked.
Dunn drew in a long breath and looked to the relief on the ceiling. “They have been gone for so long, I fear I have forgotten times gone past.”
“What do you remember most about your father?”
He smiled reflectively. “No tougher man than my da held this fortress.”
“Was he as tall as you?”
“Aye, and I reckon he was broader in the shoulders.”
“Truly?”
“He was a man to be reckoned with, but a good father as well, mind you. He may have been a bit harsh with a switch in his hand, but his discipline was fast and finished. There were no grudges held by my da, unless you were a MacLeod, of course.”
“Of course,” Mairi agreed. The clans who feuded with the MacRaes also feuded with the MacKenzies. “And your mother?”
“A bonny highborn lady who was gracious to everyone. Did ye ken she was the youngest daughter of the Marquis of Montrose?”
“I did not.”
“Aye, and as such she was referred to as Lady Harriet, just as you will always be Lady Mairi.” He grasped her hand. “No one can take your birthright away from you.”
“It concerns me not at all to be given a courtesy. Truth be told, it hasn’t bothered me in the slightest to have it omitted by the servants since I’ve been in hiding.”
He swirled one of her curls around his finger. “I find that ironic.”
“Oh?”
“According to your father, you will marry no less than a baron.”
“Da said that?”
“You’re surprised?”
Mairi sighed. “Nay, I should not be. I ken my father. He has grand plans to expand Cromartie lands, and ’tis very difficult for him to bow to Seaforth, his grandnephew.”
“It must be a bitter tonic for him to swallow, indeed. Your father must be thirty-five years Reid’s senior.” Dunn traced his finger along the length of her neck. “But the Earl of Cromartie does not hold my interest, lass.”
Shivers coursed all the way down her arms. “I do believe you are attempting to seduce me, sir.”
“I beg to differ, m’lady,” he growled into her ear. “I am a slave to your seductive wiles, Mairi. For, simply by being, you inflame the ravenous beast within me.”
Heat pooled in her loins with a craving that had proved insatiable. She pushed her fingers into his thick, shoulder-length hair as he dipped his chin and captured her mouth in a kiss—not a sweet, slow kiss, but one filled with greedy desire that carried the promise of steamy passion to come.
“I want to play a game with you, mo leannan.”
“What kind of game?” She wiggled her shoulders with eagerness.
“One of anticipation. One that I promise will make you soar to the stars.”
“I like the sound of that, sir. What must I do?”
“Lie still. But you mustn’t touch me.”
She frowned. “That doesn’t seem fun at all.”
“It will be, because after I’m finished with you, it will be your turn to torture me.”
She grinned, liking his idea better. “Torture?”
“Delightful torture.” He grasped the front lace of her kirtle and slowly pulled open the bow. “Now lie back.”
“Is this why there are so many pillows strewn across the floor?”
“Mm-hmm.” Once her kirtle was unlaced, he tugged open the ties of her stays. As he pulled the garments away, Mairi took a deep breath, smiling, no longer nervous to disrobe in his presence. He made her lift her hips as he tugged off her petticoats.
When his fingers slipped to the bow on her chemise, she grasped his hand. “More kissing.”
Gradually, those thick eyelashes raised and he met her gaze. “You mustn’t touch me, m’lady.”
Gooseflesh pebbled her skin, even as she began to smolder within. “I am your servant.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” With just a few flicks of his fingers, Mairi was completely naked, excepting her hose and slippers. Dunn stood, stepped around her, and allowed his gaze to linger. “You are exquisite.”
She smiled, unashamed to pose nude for his eyes alone. “When will I have a turn?”
“Only after you have been unequivocally satisfied.”
A thrill made her heart flutter. “I am yours. Do what you will with me.”
Dunn dropped to one knee and removed her slippers. His fingers tickled as he untied her ribbons and languidly slid her hose down each leg. By the time he pulled the last one from her toes, Mairi’s inner thighs were already quavering. Her gaze dipped to his kilt, catching the outline of his thick manhood. Tapping her tongue to her lip, she yearned to sit up, unbuckle his belt, and draw him atop her.
Exposed and completely naked, she held very still, planning her attack.
He moved to her side and kissed her forehead. Though he did not touch her with his hands, his lips caressed her cheeks and found her mouth. Mairi opened for him, and when he swirled his tongue with hers, she arched up and met his fervor. Still, only their mouths joined. Nothing else.
Dunn continued to tantalize her with feathery kisses moving down her neck and each arm, licking each finger as his dark, sultry eyes watched her. The need simmering in Mairi ratcheted up with the warmth of his mouth, the tiny little sucks, and his warm breath as it tantalized her skin—her breasts aching for his touch, her desire growing hotter as he slowly issued his torture. She inhaled sharply when he finally arrived at her breasts. His swirling mouth lingered, teasing her nipples, suckling them until she cried out.
He issued a low rumble of laughter as he kissed down to her navel and swirled inside it with his tongue, giving her an erotic preview of his cock entering her core. Mairi prayed he would part her legs and lick her there, but he slid his kisses down and up each leg. When he kissed her arches, she slid her fingers between her legs and pressed to ease the longing.
“I cannot take much more.”
His eyes grew even darker with his wicked smile. Sliding down to his stomach, he shouldered open her legs. Panting, Mairi lay completely prone, on the edge of soaring into oblivion, while he gaped at her womanhood and inhaled. “Good God, you are divine.”
He moaned as he licked her.
“Again!” she demanded, so close to release she bucked.
Dunn lapped her again. “Like this?”
“Please!”
“Or like this?” He sealed his mouth over her and suckled.
Blinded by the intensity of the flame coiled at her apex, Mairi cried out, thrusting her hips, circling them around his merciless mouth.
Stars darted through her vision as her body exploded with shuddering ecstasy. When, finally, her breathing returned to normal, she rose to her elbows and grinned. “May I touch you now?”
“Are you satisfied, or do you want more?”
“I believe it is my turn to be the executioner.” She pulled him into her arms. “Where did you learn such wicked wiles?”
“Hmm. I believe it is a prerequisite for a Highland chieftain to ken how to pleasure his woman.” He rested his head on the pillow beside her. “I love you.”
She looked deep into those pools of midnight blue and saw honesty, trust, sincerity, and most of all, love. And by her oath, Mairi returned Dunn’s love with every fiber of her being. “And I you,” she said from the depths of her soul.
And the best part? It was his turn.
* * *
Never in all her days would Mairi grow tired of gazing upon the man’s magnificence. Removing his clothing was like unwrapping a precious jewel or opening a treasure chest. Except the experience was more thrilling.
She took her time drinking him in with her eyes before she touched him. Even in repose, his chiseled muscles made him look like an Adonis. A quite hard and virile Adonis. “You are fine to me, MacRae.”
Grinning, he waggled his eyebrows. “How fine, m’lady?”
“Would you like me to show ye?”
“Aye.” He shifted his shoulders against the cushions while he raised his arms.
Mairi shook her finger. “No, sir. I am in charge of this seduction.”
“So, you aim to seduce me now?”
“I do.”
He spread his arms to his sides. “Then let us see if you can turn me into sweet cream butter.”
“Hmm.” She kneeled beside him and kissed his lips. “Cream?”
He stretched his neck as she kissed him there, inching up until she nibbled his earlobe. “I rather think you become a wild man.”
His chuckle aroused another bout of stirring in her center. But she would ignore her pleasure. Seeing Dunn squirm was far too much fun. He moaned and shifted as she tasted him. She dared to take his nipples into her mouth and suckle them as he had done to her. She swirled her lips down the ripples in his abdomen until she neared his manhood. So tempting, the base of the shaft rested on his belly, but the tip arced up as if he was ready to burst.
Careful to draw out the torture, Mairi kissed his arms and legs, paying particular attention to his hands and feet. Dunn jolted when she kissed him between his toes. “Now you’re not playing fair.”
“No?” Grinning, she kissed him again, only to make him squirm all the more. She laughed aloud. “Have I found a wee ticklish spot?”
“I am not ticklish.”
“Oh, but I think ye are.” She kissed him again and again.
He yanked his foot away. “Stop.”
She pulled it back. “Not until you admit you might have one solitary weak spot on your body.”
“All right. I admit it.” He grasped her shoulders and pulled her up. “You are far better at this game than I imagined.”
“But I’m not finished.” She rolled off him and looked downward. “There is one spot yet to be tortured.”
A low growl rumbled from his chest, reverberating all the way to Mairi’s toes.
Smiling with wickedness, she scooted lower. Dunn gasped and arched his back with her first lick. She used her fingers to grip and massage him while she tasted and gradually grew bolder. A quick glance up showed his pure desire. Then suddenly, as if possessed, he slammed his fists into the floor, and released a feral bellow.
“My word,” Mairi marveled. “I never kent I could wield such power with mouth and hand.”
Taking in a calming breath, he coaxed her atop him and kissed her. “Only you can control me mind, body, and soul.”
She rested her head on his chest and swirled her fingers through his downy soft curls. “I feel as if we are living in a dream. One I never want to end.”
Chapter Twenty
Shaken awake, Du
nn snatched his dirk from beneath his pillow and sprang to his feet. Crouching, he readied his body to fight.
Eyes wide, Ram took a step back, holding up his hands. “’Tis just me, ye boarheaded bull.”
Releasing a deep breath, Dunn rubbed his neck and glanced to the bed. Thank God he’d insisted Lady Mairi return to her chamber lest Mrs. Struan string him up by his cods—not that he’d allow it, but the matron had been right. By allowing his heart to take over his judgment, he was playing with fire. It was best to be discreet until things settled. “It is about time you returned. What the blazes took you so long?”
“I beg your pardon, sir, but I believe nary a soul would make it all the way to Coxhoe and back as fast. I even took a ship from Newcastle to Inverness, mind you.”
Coming awake, Dunn looked past his lieutenant and knit his brows. “Where’s Seaforth?”
“On his way to London, I’d reckon.”
“What say you?” Dunn’s fingers twitched, ready to strangle the numbskull. “I gave you explicit orders to return with His Lordship and—”
“He was summoned by the bloody queen.” Ram reached inside his doublet. “But he was very troubled about your news, very. Seaforth told me that after Cromartie announced the purse of fifty guineas, he pulled his uncle aside and reasoned with him until Cromartie admitted you acted heroically. He was aghast to hear Cromartie had gone back on his word and taken things so far as to up the bounty.”
Dunn tossed his dirk onto the bed. “Och, that helps like a blow to the head with an iron hammer.”
“To aid in clearing your name, His Lordship penned two missives.” The lieutenant pulled out a pair of sealed letters and gave Dunn the first. “This one’s for you and the other is for Cromartie—Seaforth advised you should deliver it yourself, sir.”
Dunn snatched the first. “Before or after the lying bastard puts my head in a noose?”
“The MacRae would never allow that to happen.”
Growling, he opened the missive and read. It was written in Seaforth’s hand, all right. The contents explained what Ram had just relayed, and expressed the earl’s sincerest apologies. It profusely held forth that had anyone aside from Her Majesty the Queen summoned him, Reid would have hastened to Eilean Donan forthwith. Since he was unable to ride beside Dunn and confront his great-uncle, he was providing a missive for Cromartie, ordering him to drop the bounty on MacRae’s head and explaining that MacRae had acted with heroism, protecting Lady Mairi from assured ruination by three uncouth dragoons.