Michele Sinclair - [McTiernays 05]

by Seducing the Highlander

  He got no more than three steps when she joined him, practically running to keep up with his long, angry strides. “You are not leaving me behind,” she told him, her tone defiant. “I’m hungry too.”

  Craig glanced sideways and sighed. The weather had finally turned chilly, and in her haste she had forgotten a covering. Tucking her hands underneath her arms, she was doing her best to keep up with him. Slowing down, he pulled her into his side to help block the wind and warm her. “I hate arguing.”

  “Me too.” She spoke in a tremulous whisper. “We never used to fight. Why do we do so now?”

  Craig chuckled softly. “You and I find it hard to make even small adjustments to our daily routines, so the idea of changing our lives, even if it is for each other, is rather difficult for both of us. But we will manage. We have one of the largest cottages in the village, and I am certain we can find room for our belongings. We only need to move things around a bit more.”

  Meriel, her face partially buried in his chest, nodded her head in agreement. “I’m sorry the place looks like I took over. I just did not want to move your things, in case you had them organized in a certain way.”

  Craig laughed out loud at the concept. “No. I have no method to where I put my stuff. I have a suggestion. Why don’t you rearrange the front room? I do not really use it much, so it can be primarily yours if we can equally share the rest of the cottage.”

  “Really?” asked Meriel as she lifted her head and looked up at him as if he had just won her the moon.

  “Aye.” Craig felt a surge of pride, his mood suddenly buoyant. “I need to go with your father to visit some of the outlying farms. I thought about waiting for another week or two, but I think I’ll suggest leaving in the morning. This will give you several days to organize things just how you want them without having to worry about me getting in the way. All I ask is that we find a place to put my things.”

  Meriel was radiating happiness at the suggestion. “I will. And I really don’t mind having your things around.”

  “Even my targe?”

  “Even your targe—of course, that is, as long as it isn’t ruining the items that I love.”

  Craig rolled his eyes as they approached the Great Hall doors. He suspected this would not be the last fight they would have about his and her items, but he was glad the worst one was finally over.

  Chapter 12

  Craig tossed the reins of his very tired horse to the stable master and waved him good-bye. He had successfully avoided his brother, made sure Callum understood that he would address his concerns in the morning, and told Rae Schellden, quite bluntly, that he was interfering with his marriage. Craig refused to allow anything more to distract him, for he had already been gone much longer than he had intended.

  He and Rae had saved their meeting with Schellden’s most notorious farmer for last. Farlon lived on the northern edge of Schellden lands and had been in a continuous feud with one of the McHenry farmers on the other side of the border. For years, they had pinched each other’s cattle, both men claiming they were only doing so in retaliation. Then last year, Farlon’s son Tevus got McHenry’s daughter pregnant.

  The two married and the families called a truce, but Ian McHenry was alleging that Farlon had resumed his thievery despite their pact. It turned out McHenry was half correct. His cattle were being stolen, but not by Farlon—by Tevus. The young man had just turned seventeen and claimed he had no other way to support his family.

  In the end, Craig had reluctantly agreed to Farlon’s suggestion that Craig take Tevus back with him so that the young man could begin training as a soldier. What Craig had not counted on was that the new husband and father would not leave his young family behind. So with Rae’s blessing, Tevus, his wife, and his baby, all made the slow and painfully loud way back to Caireoch. Before the trip, Craig was not sure about the prospect of children. Now, he was positive. He absolutely did not want them.

  Craig sauntered through the gatehouse, trying to keep his stride normal and unhurried, but it was difficult. Practically since the moment he left home, he had had visions of his return. He would open the door and find Meriel eagerly waiting for him. The aroma of the dinner she had made would fill his senses and the house would be completely in order. But before he could praise her efforts, she would run and jump into his arms. He would crush her to him and they would stumble against the door . . . or the wall. Once, he had even dreamed they crashed into the table—which, of course, was clean. Meriel would tear at his clothing and he would just as impatiently remove her gown. Their kiss would resume and soon afterward he would make it unquestionably clear he had missed her as much as she had him. And to ensure they could both realize his fantasy, he had sent word ahead to let Meriel know that he would be home that afternoon.

  Craig approached the front door of the cottage and shouted out a hello to one of the men passing by. Then with a loud thwack he dropped his shield against the outside wall. With all the noise he had just made, he had no doubt that Meriel had heard his arrival and was waiting impatiently for him to enter. But when he opened the door, Craig knew instantly that no one was inside.

  “Meriel!” he barked despite knowing he would get no reply.

  He stepped inside, and with his heel he shoved the door shut so that he could fume in private. Not only was there no meal waiting for him, it did not look as though one would be prepared in the kitchen anytime soon. Every single thing he owned was heaped into large, seemingly unstable piles around and on everything a woman needed for cooking. Where did Meriel think she was going to prepare their meals?

  Craig unhooked his sword and tossed it onto the table, not realizing that it was the one place that had been cleared of items. He followed it with his saddlebag, which he promptly turned upside down and emptied. In doing so, he did notice the large mound of dirty clothes that he had specifically told her about before he left, infuriatingly untouched. Just what was he going to wear?

  He was about to march over and pick the pile up and carry it to the castle himself when the door opened. Meriel staggered inside, visibly exhausted and huffing loudly. She was carrying a tartan pulled up at the four corners that was both heavy and awkward. “Since you won’t help me, you could at least move all your things off the table I just cleaned!” Meriel wheezed.

  She had hoped to make it back before Craig returned, but upon seeing his shield outside the door, she knew that he had arrived before she had a chance to set up dinner and surprise him. While he was gone, she had made enormous strides in making their small home livable, and had been eager to show him all that she had accomplished. What she had not planned on was snapping at him within the first thirty seconds of welcoming him home. But her arms were screaming in pain from carrying their dinner, and the first thing she saw as she walked in the door was all his stuff cluttering the table that she had made certain was completely clean when she left. It had taken more than a day to examine and find a home for each of the items in the massive collection there, and Meriel had no intention of ever going through the painful process again.

  Craig’s nostrils flared and his blue eyes had gone dark. Raising his arm, he laid it on the table and then, keeping his gaze firmly on her, he swiped the table clean, broadsword and all. With a look just as menacing, Meriel stared back, unflinching at the clatter and the noise his action created. Her guilt about snapping instantly vanished along with her apology. With a final heave, she dropped the heavy mass onto the table.

  Breaking her gaze, Meriel began to spread out the dinner and tried to regain her calm. She had collected a significant amount of meat, bread, cheese, and many other things for a feast. But just as she was leaving, she remembered all their eating utensils were buried somewhere in the kitchen-now-storage area of their home. So she had made sure the cook included plates and cups and a jug of ale. It had all been heavy at first, but by the time she reached their home, her arms and fingers were in agony.

  Yanking out a chair, Craig plopped down, grabbed so
me bread and pulled off a chunk, making clear his continued displeasure. The warm dough tasted good and the meat looked delicious, but neither did anything to calm his anger. Another castle meal was not what he had intended to come home to after being gone a week.

  Meriel took a deep breath. She had a choice. Ignore the last few minutes or engage in a fight. Craig had certainly given her enough reasons to be mad at him, but it was just not how she wanted to spend her first evening with her husband since he had been gone. And since whomever he was mad at could not possibly be her—she decided to start all over. Leaning over his lap, she placed a soft, long kiss on his lips. “I missed you.”

  Craig puckered his lips barely enough to give her a peck, and then grumbled, “Not enough to be home so that you could greet me.”

  Meriel pulled back. Again, anger singed the corners of her control. “I wanted to be here when you arrived. I had hoped to have all this,” she said, waving at the food, “laid out and ready for you, thinking that you might be hungry.”

  Craig said nothing. He had been hungry. Hungry for her, and she had not been there.

  Receiving no response, let alone gratitude, Meriel was caring less and less whether or not they had a fight immediately upon his return. She put her hands on her hips. “Well, don’t tell me you do not like it. It is the best the cook had!”

  “Let’s just say it was far from what I expected.” The low tone of his voice was inflamed and belligerent.

  Meriel took a deep breath and fought one last time to keep control. He is tired. He had a long trip and he is not intentionally trying to sound critical, she told herself. Any minute, Craig would calm down, look around, and recognize the progress she had made during the week of his absence. He would say something complimentary and then she too would unwind. “Well, you must be glad to be home,” she said, pleased she had been able to keep her tone somewhat cheerful, hiding her true emotions.

  Craig selected a piece of meat and popped it in his mouth. Between chews, he said, “I was until I walked in here and saw all my things stacked in piles where tonight’s dinner should have been.” He pointed at the stuffed kitchen and then to the mound next to him. “As well as my dirty clothes exactly where they were when I left.”

  Meriel’s face paled with growing fury. She had done her best not to escalate things, but if Craig wanted a fight, then he would have one. “I knew you to be many things, but I did not believe you to be selfish,” she said coldly. “Look around your home. You can move without tripping. You can sit. And you can eat a meal, even if it wasn’t what you expected.” Her eyes were now ablaze with smoldering ire. “I have foolishly worked late every night just to get everything ready for you, so that you would be happy. Little did I realize that some dirty clothes and a crowded kitchen would make it all meaningless!”

  She pivoted and walked to the bedroom, closing the door with a resounding thud. Leaning back against the wall, Meriel could feel her tears begin to flow. Craig was never going to be happy being married to her.

  She should have listened to him from the beginning.

  She should have left him alone and never conspired to get him to follow her to the McTiernays’ .

  But mostly, she should never have let her sister trick her into kissing him.

  Craig sat in the sitting area of the cottage and stared at the flames licking the stone walls of the fireplace. After Meriel had walked out of the front room and into their bedchamber, he considered what she had said. He even privately recognized that she had made significant strides in organizing the cottage. The small front room still looked to be a muddled mess of material, but it did look better. Maybe he should have acknowledged her efforts, but how hard was it to fulfill the two requests he had made—for her to make his dinner and clean his clothes? Both were completely ignored. The woman had made Hamish clothes in less time! She had prepared a picnic for Hamish that even from a distance had looked mouthwatering. At this rate, neither of Craig’s requests would ever be fulfilled! Aye, he was mad. He had a right to be.

  Deciding that his anger was not going to ebb without some sleep, Craig got to his feet and opened the bedroom door. He was relieved to find Meriel curled on her side facing away from him, huddled under the coverlet, asleep. He did not want to have another fight.

  Tugging off his leine and freeing himself from the rest of his clothes, he slipped under the covers.

  The weight of him getting into bed woke Meriel. “What are you doing?” she asked in surprise, her voice thick with sleep.

  “This is my bed and you are my wife. We are going to sleep together in the same bed every night until we are dead—mad or not,” he growled, rolling away from her.

  Meriel yawned and said in a husky whisper, “Oh. All right.” Her tone was soft and completely accepting. Minutes later he could hear her deep breaths and knew that she was once again asleep. He soon joined her.

  Seeking warmth, Meriel moved closer to the heat source in the bed. Finding it, she snuggled tight against Craig’s side, unaware in her unconscious state that she was doing so.

  Craig instinctively reached out and pulled her to him, moaning as her lushly curved derriere pressed against his thighs. She shifted again and the erotic sensation of her skin rubbing against him brought him fully awake. He inhaled, smiled, and then frowned. Remembering how angry they had been at each other when they went to bed that night, he had not expected her to be completely undressed under the covers.

  Carefully his hand slid down her arm, touching her smooth, warm skin. He marveled at her perfection—the softness of her body, her smell. She took his breath away. Even when annoyed, he could not get enough of her. Now that he was calmer, he recognized that much of his anger had stemmed from disappointment at her not being at home to greet him.

  Propping his body up on his elbow, he studied his sleeping wife and at once felt a sharp pang of desire. He had been gone too long, and he ached to see the fiery passion kindle in her beautiful green-gold eyes. He inhaled her womanly scent and moaned softly. Her mere presence had him fully aroused.

  Cupping her buttocks, he pulled her up against his hardness; the result was an odd mixture of relief and anguish at the teasing torture. He edged aside the coverlet to expose the curve of her shoulders and nuzzled his face in her soft wavy hair. Moving the heavy tresses aside, he feathered kisses over the arch of her neck as his hand began a slow exploration, reacquainting himself with her body. God help him, he could not stop touching her, kissing her.

  He buried his face against her throat with a soft groan of desire. His only thought was his overpowering need to make love to his wife in every way. Turning onto his side, Craig eased Meriel onto her back and covered her body with his own. Slowly he drew his thumb across her bottom lip before gently tugging it with his teeth. Without any hesitation, Meriel lifted her face. Craig kissed her, exploring her mouth like it was their first time. As her lips parted under the pressure, he retraced the path of his thumb with his tongue, glorying in the knowledge that his touch could make her react to him, even in her sleep.

  She wrapped her arms around his back as his kisses became more demanding. Pulling her tightly to him, he pressed his hips firmly against hers, letting his unmistakable need for her be known. Meriel gasped, becoming fully conscious as his tongue caressed every corner of her mouth, kissing her with an urgency built up over a week of separation.

  Craig edged to his side so that he could tenderly draw his fingertips down between her breasts and over the small curve of her stomach. Meriel shivered. Her whole body was responding to his sensual assault, but she needed to know he was no longer angry with her. Likewise, Craig had to understand that while she too might have seemed mad, she had only been hurt. That she had missed him terribly. That every night she had dreamed and longed for him. “Craig, I—”

  Craig put a finger on her lips, stilling what she had been about to say before placing a soft kiss where his finger had been. “No,” he said, his voice a whisper of rough velvet. “There’s no need to
talk. Not now.”

  His hands were caressing her entire body, disabling Meriel’s ability to speak. She could only feel. His touch seared her skin and she wanted more. Slowly she slid her fingertips from around his back to his chest and then down until her fingers cradled his warm, hard, soft flesh.

  Craig sucked in his breath. Lightly, her hands began again to touch him, then with growing purpose. Incredibly, his manhood thickened even more. Helplessly, he thrust himself against her palm, attempting to increase the delicious pressure. His one thought was that he must have more.

  Grasping both her hands in his, he lifted them above her head and said, “I need you. I’ve never needed you as much as I do now.”

  Tracing the contours of her neck with his kisses, he stroked Meriel from breast to thigh, reveling in the incredible softness of her skin. He reacquainted himself with every inch of her body, refusing to let her bring down her hands and touch him in return.

  “Look at me,” he instructed, and with his fingers stroked her breasts, teasing her nipples.

  Meriel jerked. Her body ached for his touch. She arched her back, thrusting her breasts upward, begging him to take her into his mouth. Craig obliged. He sucked on her nipple, nibbled, bit, and felt her quiver against his mouth. Relishing the sounds of pleasure and pain he elicited from her, his mouth continued to devour her, his tongue lapping the rough structure of one peak and then the other.

  Craig was so hard he hurt, but he wanted to take his time and do some of the things he had fantasized about while he was away. He edged his knee upward and lodged it between her thighs. Then he pressed his hips closer, letting her feel the long, hard length of his erection.

  “Please,” Meriel groaned, as he splayed his fingers over her belly. She knew what was to come.

  Craig responded by lightly moving his hand down over her soft stomach straight to the heart of her fire. He cupped her gently and eased one finger into her damp heat. Meriel heard herself cry out and tried to reach for him, but he held her hands firmly above her head. She squeezed her eyes closed. It was blissful agony not to be able to show him how much she was burning for him.