The Highlander's Stolen Bride

by Melanie George

  “My, all this devotion to a houseguest. She is just a guest, isn’t she? Surely a saint like you would do no wrong.”

  “I’m giving you to the count of ten to get out of my sight. They’ll be no other warnings.”

  “You forget, your darling mother provided for a roof over my head in her will. Whether it be here or elsewhere doesn’t matter to me.”

  Ethan wiped the blood from his lip with a handkerchief. “That still bothers you, doesn’t it? The fact that your mother loved me. I bet you wondered why she cared so much. I wasn’t her son, after all. That was your job—or it was supposed to be—but you never really measured up in that regard, did you?”

  Derek forced back the urge to lunge at his brother. The bastard had always been able to find his weak spots and exploit them.

  What he said was true. Derek had wondered why his mother never seemed to hold the same affection for him that she did for Ethan. It had created a chasm between them that couldn’t be breached, even at her death.

  “Don’t delude yourself,” he told Ethan tautly. “You were simply a pawn in the war between my mother and father.”

  “He was my father, too, lad. Don’t forget that.”

  “So your mother said, but we both know she had a problem with her facts. Booze and whoring tends to do that to one’s memory.” Though Ethan didn’t flinch, Derek could tell his barb had hit the mark.

  “Your own memory is selective,” Ethan returned adroitly. “Even though you like to believe our father’s dalliance with my mother was a single unfortunate occurrence, your own mother wasn’t foolish enough to believe that. Yet you existed in this contrived world where I was the solitary evil, ruining your perfect life. What you’re afraid to admit is that our father could have very well left a litter of bastards dashing about the countryside just ready to make a claim. What will you do then, I wonder?”

  “You won’t be here to worry about it.”

  “Please, both of you,” Megan pleaded, tugging at Derek’s sleeve, trying to pull him away. But the animosity between the brothers had been seething too long, and the volcano had finally erupted.

  Ethan shook his head. “Still living in your glass house, I see. Better watch your step, or you might find yourself standing amid a pile of shards. I’ll leave you with the quagmire you’ve created. A rather intriguing dilemma, isn’t it?”

  His meaning was clear, and Derek could only wonder why Ethan didn’t tell Megan. It couldn’t be out of regard for her feelings. He was up to something, but Derek couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

  Megan laid a hand on his arm. “Derek, ye must see tae Lady Rosalyn. She looked greatly upset.”

  “Yes, brother,” Ethan mocked. “You should listen to your wife-to-be. Go console Lady Rosalyn. I did not force her to kiss me, though I’m sure you want to think otherwise. The lady was willing, and I was more than able. Can you say the same?”

  With a derisive grin, Ethan headed down the hall, leaving Derek to seethe and to wonder if what his brother had said was true. Could Rosalyn have wanted Ethan’s attention? Could she desire both of them?

  Derek ran a hand through his hair, barely aware of Megan as she came to stand in front of him.

  “Do ye want tae talk?” she asked quietly.

  Derek looked down into the guileless eyes that had always regarded him with trust. He had never misled her; she knew how he felt about a marriage between the two of them, though everyone had propelled them toward that end. His mistake was that he had never clearly dispelled the possibility.

  Megan deserved better. He just didn’t know what that was at that moment.

  “Yes,” he said. “I want to talk.”

  She nodded. “See tae Lady Rosalyn first. Send for me when you’re ready.” Her smile was wistful as she stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips across his cheek.

  Rosalyn stood out in the middle of the terrace, her arms hugged across her chest. Behind her, the French doors that led into her bedroom stood open, her gowns spread out on the bed; on the floor, her trunks were open and waiting to be packed.

  The afternoon had passed without a word from Derek. She was glad he had kept his distance; otherwise she might have done or said something foolish. Surely he had to be thinking the worst of her. First she had thrown herself at him, then it appeared she had done the same with his brother. Worse, her shame had to be witnessed by Derek’s betrothed.

  It was all too much. She had stepped out of one sand pit and right into another. Rosalyn closed her eyes and a tear slipped down her cheek.

  She had not allowed herself to examine her feelings too closely, but she could no longer deny how she felt. She was falling for Derek, and out of everything, that was her biggest mistake.

  Rosalyn drifted aimlessly across the terrace, stopping at the edge of the cobblestone perimeter to stare up into the night sky. A smattering of stars shined through the leafy canopy, a sliver of moon washing the trees with a silvery coating.

  The sound of a twig snapping brought her attention to the woods in front of her. “Hello?” she called out, listening for a reply, but nothing came back to her.

  Rosalyn shook her head and chided herself for her jumpiness. It was most likely a small animal finding its way through the bushy undergrowth. She had to stop thinking every strange sound or odd occurrence had to do with Calder. Her stepbrother was undoubtedly still scratching his head, wondering where she had gone.

  Even if he managed to find out where she was, the likelihood of him successfully navigating through the rough Highland terrain to find Castle Gray and then sneaking in undetected were slim.

  And yet Rosalyn could not contain the goose bumps that rose along her arms as she turned to hasten back into her bedroom—

  And into the steely grasp of a shadowy figure.

  Fifteen

  A scream rose to Rosalyn’s lips as large hands gripped her, but her terror died as her gaze collided with Derek’s. Her limbs were weak as she sagged against him.

  He swung her up into his arms and carried her through the French doors. He pushed aside the gowns scattered on the bed and gently laid her down, then sat beside her, stroking the hair from her face.

  Rosalyn felt foolish for getting jumpy over a twig snapping. “I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting to find you there.”

  “I saw you standing in the moonlight, and I couldn’t resist. I didn’t mean to frighten you. When you didn’t come to dinner, I got worried.”

  Food had been the last thing on her mind. “I wasn’t hungry.”

  He was silent for a long moment. “I’m sorry about what happened earlier.”

  “Why should you be sorry? I was the one who made a proper cake of myself.”

  “I blame my brother for what happened. He’ll be gone by the morning, and he won’t bother you again.”

  Rosalyn rose to her elbows. “I wish you wouldn’t send him away.”

  The fingers lightly caressing her jaw stopped. “So it’s true.”

  “What?”

  “Ethan said you wanted him. I didn’t believe him.”

  Rosalyn realized how her words must have sounded. “What happened between Ethan and me was a mistake. The kiss meant nothing—though I would like to be his friend.”

  A muscle worked in Derek’s jaw. “Why? He’s a snake.”

  “He’s not as bad as you think. And I just can’t bear the thought of him being banished because of me.”

  “He should count his blessings that I let him leave with his limbs intact.”

  “It would be better if I left.”

  “It appears as though you plan to do just that,” he remarked, surveying the open trunks and the dresses strewn about the room.

  “I think I should.”

  “If it makes a difference,” he said, “you have nothing to do with the trouble between Ethan and me. I wish I could say my brother has an honorable bone in his body, but he doesn’t. I suspect he’s just using you to get at me.” He stroked a length of her hair between his fingers, a
dmitting, “He’s figured out that I care about you.”

  Rosalyn glanced up. “You do?”

  He framed her face with his fingers. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all day. You bewitched me last night.”

  The reminder of what they had done in the hours after midnight made Rosalyn think of Megan Trelawny, and a lump of shame lodged in her throat.

  Sitting up, she swung her legs to the opposite side of the bed. “I don’t think your fiancée would approve of what we did. Why didn’t you tell me about her?”

  Derek rose from the bed and came around to her side, hunkering down on the floor in front of her. “The relationship between my clan and the Trelawnys has been strained for years, and my father thought that a marriage between us would create harmony. I never thought there would be any woman who would capture my heart, so I never said no. I just said nothing.

  “Megan has never shown any interest in marrying me; we’ve always been more like brother and sister. But her seven brothers have too much respect for their father to go against his wishes, even though he’s no longer living. The only person who might have persuaded them to change their minds was Megan herself, and she’s never said anything.”

  “She loves you.”

  “She doesn’t want to hurt me, I suspect.” Derek sighed.

  “She seems very nice.”

  “She is. And she doesn’t deserve this from me.”

  “You aren’t the only one to blame. I had a part in what happened.”

  Derek took her hand in his. “Don’t ever think that you are at fault in this. I should have told you about Megan. The truth is, I was selfish. I’m sorry.”

  “So am I,” Rosalyn whispered, rising from the bed and moving around him.

  “Don’t go,” he softly pleaded.

  She knelt down to pick up the gown she had worn the first time they had met. She wasn’t sure why she had brought it with her; it wasn’t as though she’d expected to attend any balls. But the dress had too much sentimental value to leave behind. Rosalyn folded the dress and put it into the trunk.

  Derek came up behind her and laid his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him. “Whether you stay or go, I intend to talk to Megan. And since you’ve decided that you’re leaving regardless, I might as well say what’s on my mind. Will you look at me?”

  Rosalyn couldn’t look into his eyes; she had to get out while she was still able. “Please, just let me pack.”

  “I knew the moment we left London that I had made the wrong decision in bringing you here.”

  Rosalyn closed her eyes, hurt going straight through her. “I guess we both made a mistake.”

  “I didn’t say it was a mistake. Just a wrong decision on my part. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay away from you—I found you too alluring and far too fascinating. I took your misfortune and turned it into my benefit. I wanted you here with me, and had Clarisse’s missive not appeared that night, I might have been the one crawling in through your bedroom window to abduct you rather than that stepbrother of yours.”

  Slowly, Rosalyn raised her head to look at him. “I don’t believe you.”

  “I didn’t want to return home without you.” He took her hand and pulled her toward him. “Stay with me—if for no other reason than protection from Calder. I don’t want you to go. Not now.”

  In her heart, she wanted to stay with him, but she had her own secrets, things that hurt too deeply to tell him about. And even if she did stay, it wouldn’t change anything. He needed a girl like Megan.

  “Derek—”

  He silenced her with his lips, and Rosalyn was lost. He had become a weakness in her blood, and she could not think when he touched her this way.

  She clung to his shoulders as he cupped her bottom and pulled her tight, molding her body to his. She moved against him, feeling his shaft swell and thicken with each press of her hips.

  He lifted her off the floor. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his lean hips. He pushed her skirt back, his fingers grasping her thighs, kneading her flesh.

  Rosalyn was so dizzy from his touch that she hadn’t realized he’d moved until she felt the cool press of the coverlet beneath her back, the springs groaning as Derek brought his weight down over her, leaning on his elbows to keep from crushing her.

  She threw her head back as his mouth sought the sensitive curve of her neck and his hand skimmed up her side to palm her breast, his forefinger flicking back and forth over her nipple, everything inside her aching for him.

  He pulled down the shoulder of her dress. The soft cotton tightened across her chest, pushing her nipples high. Rosalyn closed her eyes and arched her back as Derek laved the tight bud, flicking and then circling, over and over again, before drawing the hard point into his mouth.

  He toyed with her other nipple, gently rolling the peak until she begged for his mouth, the slightest touch searing straight to her very core, her flesh exquisitely sensitive, heat and moisture building between her thighs.

  She leaned up and tugged his earlobe between her teeth as her hand sought out the buttons of his trousers, her palm shaping the length of his erection, her body yearning for the pleasure he could give her.

  His fingers wrapped around her wrist and pinned it above her head on the bed, then her other one, allowing her to feel but not to touch.

  He shifted between her legs, her skirt pushed up to her waist, leaving nothing but the thin layer of her pantalets to separate them.

  He slid a hand down between their bodies and found the opening in her pantalets, slipping a single long finger inside to find her hot and wet. A sizzling jolt rocked her as he eased upward to find the ripe tip of her sex, his stroke like a silken whisper across her swollen flesh.

  Rosalyn nipped at his chin and clutched his lean hips with her legs as he took her toward that pinnacle he had so skillfully brought her to three times the night before.

  She writhed beneath him like a wanton as his lips moved down her body, suckling her breasts, nipping at her stomach, and she gasped as his mouth brushed her mound and his tongue dipped into the cleft to stroke her clitoris.

  She never wanted it to end. Her need for Derek was beyond her power to control as he toyed with the sensitive pearl between her thighs, the little nub swelling and stiffening.

  As she was on the verge of falling over that bright precipice, he stopped. He silenced her moan of protest with his mouth while he undid the buttons of his trousers, then slid into her.

  “Yes,” Rosalyn moaned, loving the feel of him inside her, pumping slowly as he played with her nipples and kissed her softly.

  He wrapped his hands beneath her knees and positioned her legs around his waist. “Hold me tight,” he murmured, feathering kisses along her throat, his thrusts penetrating deeper.

  She threw her head back and grasped the coverlet, fisting the material in her hands. She strained toward Derek as he pushed. He was in her to the hilt, his cock working up and down, pleasuring her unmercifully.

  He shifted her legs over his shoulders, going even deeper. She raised her hips to receive every divine inch of his shaft. It was heaven, ecstasy like she had never imagined.

  She moaned and his lips slanted over hers in a heated kiss that should have sent the bed up in flames. He was lust and desire and sensuality incarnate, and Rosalyn couldn’t get enough of him.

  The pleasure was so intense it was nearly unbearable; the heavy brass headboard trembled with his thrusts.

  Her fingernails dug into Derek’s shoulders as he rocked back and forth inside her, but they were both oblivious. The only sounds in the room were her whimpers and his low groan.

  He suddenly lifted off her, sitting up and pulling her hips against his thighs so they could both watch as he moved in and out of her.

  He grasped the front of her thighs, his thumb dipping into her heat, skimming over the tight, engorged bud that was so exquisitely sensitive.

  Seeing what he was doing do her and feeling his rod inside
her, his body muscular and beautiful, pushed Rosalyn over the edge.

  She threw her head back as an intense climax made her entire body shudder, the deep pulses pushing against him and around him as he thrust once, twice more…and then pulled out, his hot seed spilling on her stomach.

  Rosalyn closed her eyes, sated and exhausted. Derek reached for the cloth on the bedside table, dipped it into the small bowl of water next to it, and tenderly cleaned her. Then his arms circled her shoulders and hugged her close.

  She wanted to say so much, but no words would come.

  “Do you hate me?” he asked softly.

  Rosalyn blinked open her eyes and found Derek staring down at her. “No, I don’t hate you.”

  He looked so serious that she wanted to soothe him, but she could not. He had ignited something she had never wanted to feel. She had to keep him at a distance.

  “I need some time alone to think,” she told him. Derek kissed her lightly on the forehead, then dressed. A moment later, the door shut quietly behind him.

  Sixteen

  D erek stood outside Rosalyn’s door, struggling against the urge to go back into her room. When exactly had he lost control of the situation? Had he ever really been in control in the first place?

  Forces had propelled him to this end, but whatever those forces were, he was damn fortunate. He wanted Rosalyn more than he could remember wanting any woman, and not just physically.

  He didn’t want to hurt Megan, but he could not avoid the inevitable any longer.

  “Christ,” he muttered as he headed down the darkened corridor separating the east and west wings, his thoughts consumed with how best to proceed.

  “Bastard,” a voice hissed, then something came down on the back of the head, laying him out cold.

  The next morning Rosalyn found herself up with the dawn, staring out the window very much as she had done most of the night before.

  Enough shilly-shallying; she needed to talk to Derek. She headed out of her room, and at a long, bisecting corridor she hesitated before turning left. She frowned as she spotted something odd on the corner of a marble statue, and bent down to get a closer look at it.