Her Outlaw

by Geralyn Dawson

  Dair glanced up at her and smiled. “I fear you’ll have to bear it, Texas. I haven’t drunk my fill. Now, watch how your skin flushes and your eyes glaze over when I make you come. I find the sight incredibly arousing.”

  He proved his point within seconds and when the spasms of pleasure racked her, Emma melted, her legs no longer able to support her. He made a masculine growl of satisfaction as he lowered her gently onto the floor.

  Still, he didn’t stop. With his hot mouth and busy tongue, he brought her up again, over again, until, writhing beneath him, she begged him to stop. “Please. It’s too much. Dair, it’s…oh-h-h…” She ended on a sigh as he gave her one last sweetly tender intimate kiss then rolled up onto his knees.

  “Delicious,” he repeated. “The perfect appetizer.”

  She lay exhausted against the Persian rug. It took a moment for his words to penetrate. She lifted her head. “Appetizer?”

  “I intend a full course meal. I’ve been hungry for you for a long time, Emma. It will take some time to sate my appetite.”

  “You’ll kill me,” she said as he lifted her into his arms, carried her to the bed, and gently laid her down.

  “You’re a strong woman.” Dair climbed onto the bed and stretched out beside her, propping himself up on his elbow. “You can handle me.”

  Emma wanted to handle him. She wanted to drive him wild, to create within him the same desperation, the same urgent passion that he’d stoked to life within her. So she took control of the moment by rolling him onto his back and lifting herself over him.

  She kissed his chest as he’d kissed hers, nipping at his small round nipples, sucking him, coaxing a groan from his throat. Then she licked her way down his body, savoring the salty male taste of him. Lust sizzled through her, itchy and achy and immediate. Her tongue circled his navel, then she lifted her head, allowing long strands of her hair to stroke across his sex. It twitched when she paused, her mouth mere inches away.

  “God, Emma.”

  Power roared through her, an aphrodisiac more potent than any other. Her pulse pounded in an age-old rhythm. She smiled, purred, then licked the velvet length of him. He muttered a curse. She laughed, blowing her warm breath across his swollen tip, then tasting. “Salty,” she murmured. “Musky.”

  His hands grabbed the sheets and his expression went taut with arousal bordering on pain. When she took him in her mouth he bore it but a moment before crying out and losing control.

  The jungle cat pounced. Triumph flashed through Emma as he flipped her onto her back, positioned himself, and thrust deep. He was hard and hot inside her and Emma reveled in it.

  Supporting himself by his arms, his head thrown back, the cords in his neck and the grimace on his face betrayed the intensity of his need. Dair pulled out, then pushed back in, pounding her hips into the soft mattress, stroking her own arousal back to a fevered pitch. She rose to meet him, again and again. Was that his voice or hers whispering, “Faster…harder…more?”

  Dair’s rhythm matched the words, his thrusts urgent. Savage in intensity. Emma sensed it coming. Tension building…stretching tight…tighter…

  She shattered. Waves of pleasure surged through her and she surrendered to sensation. Through the haze of her own fulfillment, she saw him look down at her, look into her eyes, into her soul. “Emma.” He thrust hard once more and emptied his hot seed inside her.

  Their gazes locked, Emma said his name. Then silently, completely, she gave him her heart.

  CHAPTER TEN

  DAIR DRIFTED TOWARD WAKEFULNESS a contented man. He’d spent the night under his own roof in a comfortable bed snuggled up to the most exciting, sensual, sensuous woman he’d ever known. How many times had he wakened her through the night? Three or was it four? She’d awakened him twice. God, it was good to be alive.

  All right, MacRae. That’s not a direction you want to take your thoughts. Not today. He frowned into his pillow, then reached for the woman with whom he shared the bed.

  He found empty space. His frown deepened and he wrenched open his eyes. The sudden hot weight in his belly eased when he spied Emma Tate back in her nightgown and down on her hands and knees beside the bed.

  He rolled and sat up. “I hesitate to ask, but…”

  Worry dotted her expression. “I can’t find my necklace.”

  The hot weight settled back into his belly. “Emma, I didn’t steal it. I didn’t leave the bed all night. I wouldn’t do that to you again. Not even before last night, but especially—”

  “I know, Dair. I know you didn’t take it.”

  “You do?” He rubbed his hands over his face. “I’m confused.”

  “I know you wouldn’t steal the necklace from me again.” She rose to her feet, then added, “Nevertheless, it’s missing.”

  Thinking aloud, he said, “You wore it with the nightgown. When did you take it off? Did I take it off?”

  “I did.” She took one more survey of the floor beneath the bed, then stood. “I took it off after the first time we made love. You collapsed on top of me when you were done and it was pressing into my chest.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” he said, remembering.

  “I set it on the bedside table. I know I did. It’s disappeared, just like Kat’s did.” She frowned, her eyes narrowing. “Jake Kimball hasn’t come to visit, has he?”

  Dair shot her a scowl, then rolled out of bed and grabbed his pants from the chair where he’d left them. As he pulled them on, he made a quick scan of the room. Silver candlesticks remained on the mantel. An ivory trinket box sat on the desk. A Flemish landscape hung on the wall. Nothing but the necklace was missing. A Highland Riever type hadn’t paid a call.

  “This makes no sense,” he said. “Someone would have had to get into this room while we were asleep. Through a door that squeaks every time it’s opened. That simply couldn’t have happened. I sleep lightly. I would have awakened. It has to be here, Emma. You’re just not looking in the right place.”

  “Then you find it,” she snapped. She flounced to her wardrobe and removed a clean set of clothing, then paraded into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.

  He winced at the noise, then muttered a foul word and made a quick, but thorough search of the room. When that failed to turn up the missing piece of jewelry, he did it again. The hot weight of dread settled into his stomach like an extended-stay guest.

  He tested the door. The hinges squeaked each time he opened it. He repeated the action with the French doors leading out onto the balcony. Their hinges were even noisier. Dair might not like this home he owned, but he valued his possessions. Squeaky hinges served a purpose—one of the little lessons the Highland Riever had learned long ago.

  What happened to the damned necklace? Was it in any way possible for a thief to have sneaked into the room without waking him? To have found the necklace in the dark, then made off with it and only it without detection? Who in the city’s underworld but himself had the ability to pull off such a feat? No one.

  Had someone been in there the whole time he and Emma had been making love? How did he get in? And out? Anger pumped through Dair’s veins. He’d kill the son of a bitch when he found him. Standing in the middle of the room, his hands braced on his hips, he murmured, “This is damned strange.”

  The bathroom door opened and a freshened, fully dressed Emma stepped out. He could all but see the words I told you so hovering on her tongue, but she wisely held them back. “Are you confident in the characters of your household staff, Dair?”

  “They weren’t in residence last night. I gave instructions for everyone to be dismissed after our supper was served.” He rubbed the back of his neck, then shot her a puzzled look. “This is in no way a criticism, Emma, but it occurs to me that you’re taking this rather well. Considering everything that’s happened, I’d expect you to be…well…you’re not ordinarily a ranter, but I find this calmness of yours curious.”

  “I’m not exactly calm,” she told him. “I’m ente
rtaining explanations other than the obvious.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “It occurs to me that three possible explanations for the necklace’s disappearance exist.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “One, a thief sneaked in while we were asleep and stole it. You’ve assured me that’s not possible, which brings us to two. A thief might have stolen it while we were making love.”

  Dair muttered an expletive beneath his breath.

  “I think that’s a legitimate possibility. I suspect that at various times during last night a bomb could have gone off at our feet and we wouldn’t have noticed. We were quite involved.”

  Dair couldn’t argue, but he didn’t have to like it. “What’s the third explanation?”

  “Magic.”

  His mouth gaped. “Magic?”

  “I’ve never really believed, but after reading Ariel’s story yesterday…well…Roslin of Strathardle called us the Chosen, a circle of three in the thirty-third generation. She said we have the chance to end the curse.”

  “That fairy tale?” he scoffed. “You’ve decided you believe in magic because of some silly story you read in a book?”

  Her chin came up. “You believe in fate.”

  “Yes, but it’s a big step from fate to fairies.”

  “I thought so, too, until yesterday, and honestly, I’m still not entirely certain about the fairies. It could be that’s just a way to explain a concept…well…that’s beside the point. Dair, I’d heard that story before. That night when Roslin gave my sisters and me our necklaces? She told us the same tale.”

  He gave an exasperated shrug. “So what? It’s a MacRae legend told by some rogue clan member who robbed from the Sisters’ Prize. It doesn’t have anything to do with your necklace disappearing. Or with a goddamned voyeur possibly creeping about while we were naked and…occupied.”

  “We don’t know that.” Emma folded her arms. “Look, MacRae, you obviously believe in the treasure. What makes your legend any more legitimate than mine?”

  “It’s a treasure. Treasures exist. Besides, why are you laying claim to a MacRae legend? If you think I might challenge your right to the necklace since it’s part of the Prize, then—”

  “No, Dair. That’s not it at all. Remember the part of the story that talked about Ariel’s children and her children’s children having to prove the strength of their love? That’s the Curse of Clan McBride. You’re missing a detail. A rather important one. The mortal man who Ariel chose over the fairy prince? Well, listen to this. He was a McBride.”

  He went still. “That wasn’t in the story.”

  “It was in the version Roslin told us in Fort Worth. You said you investigated us. Didn’t you learn about the bad luck curse? My family has seen it played out over and over. My father, my Uncle Tye. They were forced to overcome great trials before they achieved luck in love. Even my own love for Casey—”

  “No.” Dair waved a hand, dismissing the entire idea.

  She drew a deep breath as if summoning patience. “Nevertheless, Dair, the reality before us is that my necklace has gone missing under a peculiar circumstance.”

  “So you’re ready to believe in magic? Good Lord. Maybe you really should have competed for Jake Kimball’s hand in marriage. You two would make a pair. He thinks Kat’s necklace will lead him to his brother who disappeared in a Tibetan storm years ago.”

  “Does he really? Why?”

  “Apparently, he’s dreamed about her necklace ever since his brother disappeared.”

  “Oh, my.” Her eyes widened. She fell back a couple of steps until she sank down onto a chair. “It’s true, then. See, this further proves my point. Call it fate or destiny or magic, or voodoo, for that matter, some force is at work here. And my necklace has disappeared.”

  “Look. As distasteful as I find the idea, someone managed to steal it from beneath our noses while we were otherwise involved. I knew you were dangerous, Texas. I didn’t realize being with you would wipe a man’s senses from his head. I’ll have to remember that in the future.”

  “You’re not ready to believe, are you?”

  “Believe what?”

  “Believe in destiny. In a love that is powerful, vigilant and true, and in a task of great personal import. Dair, my sisters and I are the circle of three. We’re the Chosen. We have a chance. It began with a McBride and MacRae. It’s logical that it should end in similar fashion.”

  In that moment, the blinders lifted from Dair’s eyes. This morning, her calm reaction to the ruby’s disappearance. Last night, the vixen in his bed. Her response when he told her point blank they didn’t have a future. She didn’t believe him. She flat out didn’t believe him! She believed in fairy tales instead.

  I knew it was too good to be true.

  Anger roared through him. Hardheaded, stubborn woman. What was he supposed to do? He’d tried, hadn’t he? He’d told her the truth. Most of it, anyway. This wasn’t right. She had no right to drag him along into her fantasies. Not her fairy-tale fantasies, anyway. She’d given herself to him last night under false pretenses. Well, that was her responsibility. Not his. He was by God not responsible for her silliness.

  Dair dragged his fingers through his hair in frustration as he realized that now he’d inevitably hurt her. Wonderful. Just wonderful. He didn’t want to hurt Emma. She deserved better.

  One more time. He’d try one more time to get her to listen to reason. “Emma, I’ll admit there are some curious things happening here. I agree that fate has brought you and me together. But you need to put your feet back on the ground here. What we’re dealing with isn’t some supernatural phenomenon.”

  “But what if…?”

  “Honey, reality is that someone, at some time, robbed the Sisters’ Prize of the three necklaces. We know that for some unknown reason a decade ago, a woman who likely had ties to Clan MacRae gave those necklaces to you and your sisters. I suspect your Roslin was somehow connected to mine because I had such a strong reaction to the engravings on the stone. Maybe my mother was the one who took the necklaces.”

  “Would she have done that?”

  “Who knows? Maybe your Roslin was a friend or even a cousin of my mother’s. Hell, maybe she believed the fairy tale too and when she ran across three McBride daughters, she decided you should have the treasure. That’s all guesswork, though. Who knows what the truth is? But it doesn’t really matter. The fact is that your necklaces prove the treasure exists. That’s what’s real in this whole thing, Emma. The treasure. It’s out there and I intend to find it.”

  “I want to find the treasure, too,” she agreed, nodding.

  “Why? Because you think it’s your ‘task’? Because you think your fairy godmother has declared us a couple? Emma, you need to listen to me this time. Happy-ever-after isn’t going to happen for us. I cannot be your strong, vigilant, true love. Last night was wonderful. Making love with you was special. More special than it’s ever been for me. But there are things you don’t know about me. Private things I’m not inclined to share.”

  Her spine snapped straight. “Oh, my God. You’re married.”

  “No I’m not married! I may be a thief, but I’m not a cad. Neither am I your destiny, Emma. You have to accept that. And you should recognize that it’s a good thing. I’m not much of a prize, Emma Tate. You deserve a whole lot better than me.

  “Now. I think you must be correct in your assumption that somebody spied on our lovemaking last night and took advantage of our distraction to steal your necklace. Whoever took it might well try to sell it today, so it’s best we move quickly. I’ll quiz the staff. Also, I know every fence in Edinburgh so I’ll check with them, too. While I’m doing that, would you check with Robbie and see if he’s discovered any more information for us? We’ll meet back here at noon. With any luck, we’ll have the necklace back, and we can still leave for Strathardle today.”

  He strode toward the door headed for his own rooms and a change of clothes. Her voice stopped hi
m as he reached for the doorknob. “Alasdair MacRae? I think under the circumstances it’s important I tell you something I’ve recently discovered.”

  Something in her voice warned him. Warily, he asked, “What’s that?”

  “I’ve fallen in love with you.”

  He jerked. She might as well have thrown a knife in his back. He wrenched open the door and stalked into the hallway. “Stubborn, hardheaded female.”

  If deep within him, happiness warmed his heart, he did his best to ignore it. He almost succeeded.

  But not quite.

  EMMA DAWDLED OVER HER breakfast, leaving the way clear for Dair to interrogate his staff before departing for his dealings with the Edinburgh criminal element. She’d finished her bacon, eggs and toast and was savoring a second cup of coffee when the pounding on the front door began.

  “Open up! Open the door immediately!”

  Apparently, “immediately” didn’t happen soon enough. Emma dotted her lips with her napkin and prepared to stand as the door opened and what appeared to be a dozen men in blue uniforms and badges rushed inside. Policemen? This couldn’t be good.

  “Stop,” called Dair’s man, Harvey, as the policemen trailed past him like ants in search of food.

  “Where is he?” demanded the lead official, a barrel-bellied man with thick red brows and a handlebar mustache.

  “Where is who?” Harvey asked.

  “The damned Riever!”

  “I think there has been a misunderstanding, sir,” Emma interrupted in a placating tone. “The robber isn’t here. The robbery was here. My necklace was stolen.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m Emma Tate. I’m a friend of Mr. MacRae.”

  “Oh? Then perhaps I should arrest you, too.”

  Her smile died. “What?”

  “Have ye been helping him, lass?” Captain Ketchen demanded. He braced his hands on his wide hips and scowled at her fiercely. “Have ye assisted the Highland Riever with his nefarious deeds?”