Lord of the Isles: International Billionaires VIII: The Scots

by Caro LaFever

  “Ye should go in the front door.”

  “Don’t start.” She sloshed across the river running through the castle’s inner court, tugging him behind her.

  He gave up.

  He needed her too much and after all, she was a donas. Intent on getting her way.

  The storm howled down on the moor, driving the hard rain into his face. Every one of his muscles ached from heaving the throw bags with their waterline rope across the roiling sea to the McCreery boat and the terrified lads staring into the abyss of the waves.

  His body shook and shuddered underneath his mac. Inside his head, his brain banged a staccato drill of rage and grief, making him feel dizzy. His arms and fingers tingled, and he couldn’t seem to drag in enough breath to keep moving.

  She stopped in front of him suddenly, as if she sensed what was going on with him. Twisting around, she grabbed his other hand and pulled him into her embrace.

  “Iain,” she yelled into his ear, fighting the wail of the wind. “You are okay.”

  He wasn’t.

  He’d thought he’d been getting better. During the last few days with Lilly, he thought he’d found his feet. He’d had time to think about his future outside of the military and had even become excited at a few of the ideas he’d had running around in his mind. He’d thought about his cousin and his men without wanting to retch.

  He’d thought, perhaps, he’d forgiven himself.

  But tonight—after he’d directed his chosen crew and pulled the boys to safety, his focus solely on the rescue and not what was going on inside him—tonight he’d found himself broken again at the end.

  Exhausted. Heartsick.

  Panicked.

  “Iain,” she yelled once more. “We can do this together.”

  He let her tug him into movement once more. Stumbling down the muddy path, they finally arrived on the beach. Wicked waves roared along the shore, pulling at the sand, heaving tree branches and seaweed onto the land.

  “Come on.” She marched them both right to the base of the stone stairs.

  Iain followed behind, his body feeling like the storm was inside him, battering at his soul.

  She glanced at him. He couldn’t make out her face, but he supposed there was worry in those sea-green eyes of hers.

  He didn’t want her to worry. “I’m okay,” he bellowed.

  He knew he was not, yet it seemed to assure her because she flashed him the whiteness of her teeth and surged up the first of the wet stairs.

  He climbed.

  As a child, when he’d climbed these stairs with his treasures of seashells and rocks and twisted, waterlogged wood, his da or his mum had always followed behind. Making sure he didn’t fall, protecting him. Now, he followed behind. Followed the donas who led the way, pulling him forward, making sure he didn’t fall behind or fall away.

  He supposed if she stumbled, he’d catch her. Even though his hand shook inside her clasp.

  He’d find a way. Wouldn’t he?

  He’d found a way at sea tonight. Found a way to play the hero although he wasn’t. Found a way to save those boys. Found a way to build a team in minutes. Found a way to lead again.

  The sick helplessness in his stomach swished and sloshed as he ascended.

  He’d done it this time. But what about the next?

  Somehow, without his awareness, they’d gotten to the top of the stairs in one piece. Or, he’d say, she was in one piece. He was a mishmash of scattered pieces.

  Lovely Lilly turned, her face only a white circle in the darkness. “Are you really okay?”

  Her question was easier to hear now that the sea and storm were farther away. Yet it wasn’t easier to answer.

  “Let’s go in,” he croaked.

  She sighed before turning back to the door and pushing it open, guiding him into his sanctuary.

  Standing in the foyer, he shivered. Knowing he couldn’t escape what had happened to him tonight. He brought it right into his place because it was inside him.

  The donas gazed at him for a second before her mouth tightened. As if he’d disappointed her.

  He would. At some point.

  And that was the point, wasn’t it? Tonight he’d played the hero and he’d done his duty without making a mistake. But tomorrow, he could do exactly the opposite. He could charge into a situation and lead the way straight into disaster.

  He wouldn’t recover if he did that even one more time in his benighted life.

  He wouldn’t.

  “Let’s get you into the shower.” She pulled on his hand, drawing him to another set of stairs. “Or maybe you’d rather use the hot tub?”

  “The shower,” he mumbled.

  He’d taken her in the hot tub. A hot, heated coupling that left him content and at ease. He’d taken her in his bed, time and time again. And each time had made him feel like a god. Yet he’d never taken her in his shower, his ultimate escape.

  He’d protected that place.

  That place in his sanctuary and that place in his heart.

  Because she scared him. He loved her with an ache so fierce he sometimes wondered if his heart could contain the emotion. But he also ached with an instinctive unease. Just like his painful realization that he wasn’t anywhere near a hero, he knew he wasn’t anywhere near what Lilly deserved.

  “Take this off.” She yanked on his mac and then his drenched T-shirt.

  He shivered once more.

  “You’re cold.” The delicate line of her blonde brows drew into a frown, like she was mad at the storm for making him cold.

  When in reality, it wasn’t the storm outside that chilled him. It was the one within.

  Grabbing his hand again, she pulled him into the bathroom. “Take your shoes off and I’ll help you with your jeans.”

  He could have said something sexual and teasing, except there was none of that inside him. Not now. Maybe not anymore. Still, he did as she asked and found himself naked in front of her.

  In so many ways, he’d become naked in front of her.

  Turning from her, his gaze landed on the mirror. The mirror that had turned into a torturous obstacle the moment he’d hung it on the wall. His naked image reflected back at him, telling him the same thing it always did.

  Not worthy to be forgiven. Not a true hero. Not a man who deserved to live.

  His hand slammed on the glass with a loud slap. The mirror shook, the silver frame with its rose and vine decorations rattled on the wall.

  “Hey, hey.” Lovely Lilly grabbed his hand and pulled it to her chest. “You could have broken the glass, you dummy.”

  “Let me,” he growled.

  Tugging him to face her, she frowned. “You don’t want to break anything.”

  Everything inside him was broken. Why shouldn’t he want to break everything around him? Yet he was too crushed to articulate anything.

  “Come on,” she said, her voice gentle. “Let’s get you in the shower and you’ll feel better.”

  He thought he might laugh at that, but again, he couldn’t summon the will to respond.

  She ran her hand up his arm, making goose bumps rise along the wake. Making him realize he was still alive and still had her for now. “Iain?”

  “Aye,” he managed to blurt.

  “Look at me.”

  With weary resignation, he raised his head to meet her gaze.

  Her gaze went soft. “You don’t see what I see when I look at you.”

  “What?”

  She stepped close, so close he caught the wisp of her scent and the heat of her body. Her hands ran down from his shoulder to his own hands and clasped them in a tight grip. “Here’s what I see,” she whispered. “I see a man with a huge heart who can easily be hurt.”

  Leaning his head on hers, he grunted.

  “I see a man who’ll always try and do the right thing, and then judge himself too harshly.”

  “Lilly,” he groaned.

  “But this isn’t the time to convince you of what I se
e.” She stepped away and turned to the shower. Opening the glass door, she turned on the water. “Here we are, love,” she crooned. “Let’s get you in here.”

  Love.

  His heavy heart shook inside him, and yet all he wanted now was the water and the heat and the comfort of his place. Stepping in, he closed his eyes and stuck his head into the waterfall and sighed. He still shook inside, but this did feel good, felt like he’d come home.

  Instead of letting him be, closing the glass doors and giving him a few minutes to find his armor or perhaps a slice of peace, the donas rustled outside the shower.

  Iain opened his eyes. “No.”

  Flinging the last of her clothes on the floor, she stepped into the shower. Naked, too.

  Had she ever been entirely naked with him before?

  Had she ever given him everything as he wanted to give to her?

  “Hey, you.” She cuddled into his side, her face lifted to stare into his. “You’re okay now. You’re safe.”

  That was laughable if he had the energy. He was as unsafe with Lilly as he’d ever been in any firefights as a Marine.

  He merely stood. The water slid onto his shivering skin, her heat and warmth spread into his blood. He stuck his head under the water once more because he had no words for what this was doing to him. How he felt like she was tearing him apart and putting him back together again.

  Piece by piece.

  “Mmm.” She spread her naked palm on his naked shoulder, brushing over his shakes, trailing a streak of heat across his skin. “Mmm.”

  He growled. “I’m tired.”

  “I know.” Her hand moved to his chest. “I know.”

  Did she know what she was doing to him? Did she know she was adding lust into the sick brew of guilt and anger and bitterness simmering inside him?

  “Relax,” she murmured, as if that were a possibility with her naked body pressed to his.

  Her hand kept meandering across his skin, turning the icy chill of panic into a confusing jumble of desire and fear. “Donas.”

  She merely gave him another hum and kept touching. And touching.

  And touching.

  A blaze of hot, torrid fire blew through him, leaving nothing behind but chaotic need. His brain went blank and his body took over. His hands reached out to grasp her arms in a tight grip.

  Her hum turned into a yelp.

  Pushing her back, he held her against the wet stone wall. He pressed his body into hers, plastering her on the stone, pushing his erection into her belly.

  “I thought you were tired.” Her gaze turned dark. Yet not with fear, as he’d half expected. Instead, the wicked creature she was, her eyes went dark with lust.

  And love.

  He was almost positive that was love he saw in the green and blue. It made him want to weep and laugh at the same time.

  Could he be this lucky?

  Could he be this cursed?

  Before he could figure out which one, she threw her legs around his hips in a clear sign of immediate acceptance.

  Of him and of his demand.

  His cock slipped right into place and she hummed at him to take what he wanted and needed so desperately.

  Jesus. What else could he do with a female demon in his arms?

  His first thrust made her arch her head back on the stone. She felt incredible, tight and scalding hot and incredibly right. Leaning his head next to hers, he placed his forehead on the cool rock and thrust again.

  She cried out, a sound of pleasure.

  Closing his eyes, Iain thrust again. And again.

  And again.

  All his muscles loosened and yet went taut like a bowstring. His skin no longer shivered with cold fear, rather the length of him, every inch, felt like fired desire. His tingling hands grabbed on to her waist and then her hips and then her arse, pulling and tugging and twisting her to where he wanted her to be.

  There. For him.

  There.

  He surged into her once more and she fell over into her rapture. Lifting his head, he stared at her as her face contorted in pleasure, her eyes drifting shut, her mouth going soft. The little blonde curls trailing along her hairline made her look like an angel come down to save him.

  Her body tightened around him one more time and wrenched him back from heaven into his body. Into gritty, harsh urgency.

  He pumped and pumped. He set a frantic pace, pushing her into the stone, numb to anything but being a male and needing his woman. Panting, almost blind with desire, he turned his head to the wall, not wanting to show everything to her.

  Not yet. Not now.

  “Iain,” she whispered into his ear and into his soul. “Let me.”

  Her lovely hands came to his neck and then smoothed into his hair. Before he could stop her, she pulled his mouth to hers.

  She took everything.

  His aching cock plunging into her core. His groans into her open mouth. His past and pain and anger and fear.

  She took him all.

  Gasping, he poured himself into her, delirious with joy and unspeakably frightened, too.

  His body went slack against her, pillowed by her breasts and hips. Her mouth moved along his jaw, murmuring somethings he couldn’t make out.

  His harsh breathing filled the quiet as the soft spill of water fell on them both.

  Chapter 26

  His big body slumped on her, the heat of his desire still steaming through her bloodstream, the power of his maleness still pinning her to the stone wall.

  Lilly nuzzled into his neck, taking in his scent, taking in his relaxation with a pleased smile. He’d been wound tight, like a too-taut drum ready to crack. But now, all his muscles were loose and lax, and his breathing had slowed into a somnolent drift.

  She’d done this for him.

  Given this to him.

  “We did it again,” he rumbled into her ear, cutting through the sound of the water slicing down upon them.

  “We’ve done it plenty of times before,” she teased.

  The reality of it was, though, she didn’t think they’d ever done it quite like this time. This time had been special. A bonding beyond anything she’d ever imagined. The fact it had also brought him out of his panic and pain made it that much better.

  He lifted his head and she opened her eyes to meet his. The blue of his irises was clear, a sky free of storms. “No condoms,” he said, his mouth going wry. “But ye got that handled, I reckon.”

  “You reckon right.” Her period should come in the next day or two and then everything would be fine. She didn’t want to ruin this amazing moment with him by introducing any doubt. The man had been through a rough night, he didn’t need any further disturbances.

  Which reminded her. What had happened out there in the sea to make him so agitated?

  “Do you want to talk?” She peered at him.

  He laughed, a hoarse, choking sound that echoed in the shower. His body tensed against hers. “Naw. Not now.”

  Big hands smoothed over her butt and thighs, before he eased off her and out of her. It was a withdrawal, but not the kind he’d done before. This was a gentle pulling away, not a retreat behind a wall of rejection. Her hands slipped across his brawny shoulders and she gave him a soft smile filled with acceptance.

  He stepped back, his hands fisting. A frown crossed his straight brows. “Shite.”

  “What?” Her smile dropped. “What’s wrong?”

  “I pummeled ye against the hard stone.” His voice dripped with self-disgust.

  Dropping her legs from around his waist to the wet floor, Lilly gave him another smile, this time a reassuring one. “I loved every single second.”

  He took another step back, his frown turning into a scowl, a sign he wasn’t convinced. “Ye likely will be bruised. Goddammit.”

  A sigh went through her. For the rest of her life with this man, she was going to have to spend quite a bit of time easing his responsibility boulder off his shoulders. The realization coursed thro
ugh her, along with the sure knowledge she was more than up to the task and more than willing to take on the challenge.

  If he wanted her to.

  The memory of her pain at dinner tonight, her pain that he hadn’t confided, hadn’t let her in, threatened to rush back and overwhelm this moment. But she wanted to give to this man. She wanted to give to him until he was well and whole and right. Even if, at some point, he didn’t want her gifts anymore.

  He didn’t want to talk, as usual.

  Okay.

  She’d have to find some other kind of distraction.

  The water was still hot, and the steam coated his muscles with a sweet, misty gleam. He stood in front of her, his shoulders wide, his chest hair damp and curly, his abdomen taut and defined. His strong thighs were hairy, too, and his calves curved down into a pair of sturdy feet.

  “Like what ye see, lovely Lilly?” His voice went from surly to sultry, and she rejoiced that with one comprehensive glance, she’d accomplished her goal.

  She pulled her gaze from his big feet to his big cock.

  Yep. He was definitely distracted.

  “I sure do,” she cooed. “Come here, Your Majesty.”

  With one step, he pressed her whole body on the shower wall. He stilled, his brows furrowing again.

  She wanted none of that.

  Grabbing his biceps, she twirled them both around until his back was to the stone. “This time, I’m going to pummel you.”

  His eyes lit with immediate interest. “Are ye, then?”

  “Yes, I am,” she promised. “You just stand there.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Lounging on the shower wall, he gave her a smirk.

  The smirk made her even more determined to distract this man right into oblivion.

  He’d never forget this night. Not because of what had happened at sea, but because she was going to blow his mind.

  And something else.

  They’d played with different positions. He’d taken her from behind and had her on his lap. Yet for some reason, neither of them had gone down on the other. Maybe he didn’t do that, and she hadn’t felt confident enough with him to initiate. Now, though, after the lovemaking of a few minutes ago, confidence zoomed through her system.