Sabrina took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm. “I tell you, sir,” she enunciated as though he could not understand the King’s English, “I will not share my bed with you.”
Niall’s gaze surveyed her white night smock, sweeping over her dark, rich hair, which hung loose and unbound. “Do you ken how sweetly virginal you look?” His mouth softened in a smile. “Yet I know better. I’ve seen the fire you hide from the rest of the world.”
Depositing the lamp on the dressing table, Niall strode across the chamber and, despite her look of outraged alarm, settled beside Sabrina on the narrow bed. His eyes lingered on her nightshift, where her nipples strained darkly against the white linen. She felt them grow taut beneath his probing gaze.
When he leaned closer, Sabrina pushed futilely at his chest. “Don’t! You can indulge your lust elsewhere. Doubtless there are countless women who would swoon with ecstasy at the chance to welcome the renowned Niall McLaren into their beds.”
Niall contemplated his defiant bride calmly. He wanted no other woman. He only wanted the flashing-eyed lass who aroused such a fierce passion in him.
His hands moved lightly over her hair, rearranging it so that her tresses fell in deep, rich ripples over her shoulders.
“I want no other woman, Sabrina. I want a wife, not countless lovers. I want you.” Niall’s smile faded, leaving only the hungry look in his eyes. “I can’t remember ever wanting like this.”
It was true, he thought, gazing into the dark, liquid depths of her eyes. He had never felt this craving to possess, to protect, this all-consuming fire in his blood that he felt with Sabrina.
His voice lowered to a murmur. “I want your love, sweet mouse. I want to be the man you need, the one you carry deep inside of you, here.”
When he touched her breast tenderly, she felt as if he had reached into her heart, and she couldn’t stand it. She tried to draw away, but he wouldn’t permit her escape.
His fingertips sculpted the high planes of her face…stroked the fullness of her hair. “You cannot deny the bond between us, love. I know you feel it…when I bury myself inside you, when I drive deep and take you with me to paradise. When you sheathe me in sweetness and welcome me home.” He bent to press his lips against hers, and every familiar gesture brought Sabrina fresh agonies of tenderness and need.
“I intend to convince you, Sabrina,” he whispered against her softness. “I mean to love you until dreams of me haunt your nights and torment your every waking hour. I will fire your blood as you do mine. I won’t relent until you wear my scent on your skin, my teeth marks on your silken thighs. Until my memory is branded on your heart and mind.”
You are already branded on my heart, she thought helplessly. She closed her eyes, shaking with love and pain that mingled into a tangled knot.
“Don’t…” she whispered as he bent and trailed velvet kisses along her throat. When he paused at the fragile hollow, tonguing the delicate pulse point, she tried to twist away. “Damn you…must you always resort to seduction to gain your ends?”
Niall suddenly went still, his caresses halting.
He drew a deep, shaky breath.
“No, you are right.” He pulled back, his eyes bright and burning. “I won’t use seduction to win you.”
Sabrina stared at him in startlement.
She watched warily as he bent to pull off his boots, then stood to remove his coat.
“What…are you doing?” she asked uneasily.
“Undressing. Don’t be alarmed, sweeting. I shan’t force my attentions on you. I simply mean to ease my weariness in sleep.” His mouth curled in a wry smile. “I’ve had little enough of it the past few days, owing to you.”
He shed his clothing but for his linen undershirt and put out the lamp, then joined Sabrina beneath the covers in the narrow bed. When he tried to gather her into his arms, though, she went rigid with resistance.
“I only want to hold you,” he murmured in the darkness.
“No,” she said unevenly.
When she turned away, giving him her back, Niall made no move to stop her. He’d made that mistake before. He had tried to bind Sabrina to him sexually, to conquer her with passion, but he needed to do it with love.
He could feel her tension as she lay there, waiting for him to resume his sensual assault on her defenses, but he crushed the temptation. He wanted to make love to her, urgently, but an enchantment of the flesh would no longer suffice for him. He wanted more than her body. He wanted her heart, freely given.
Niall shut his eyes, bedeviled by unaccustomed sensations of helplessness and inadequacy. He’d proven countless times that he could seduce a woman’s body, but her heart? He might find it impossible.
He didn’t know how to love a lass. He could make love in countless ways, but this heartrending, breathtaking, relentless emotion was completely foreign to him.
One thing was certain, however. He was determined to woo and win her. As his wife, Sabrina belonged to him by law, but he vowed to make her his own, in love as well as in name.
He wanted, needed, her heart. And he was willing to settle for nothing less.
Chapter
Seventeen
He woke to an empty bed. In the chill of dawn, Niall reached out to draw Sabrina to him—and encountered only rumpled sheets.
In moments he had risen and dressed and was startling sleepy-eyed maids and footmen as he searched the house from bottom to top.
He found her in the attic, in a small cubbyhole that served as a maid’s quarters, curled up on a pallet, fast asleep. A wealth of tenderness engulfed him as he gazed down at Sabrina’s pale face. There were shadows beneath her eyes, shadows he suspected he had put there.
Just then she stirred awake and caught sight of him. With a groan, she buried her face in the pillow. “Sweet heaven, can I have no peace?”
Niall sank down to sit beside her on the plank floor, which only made her stiffen.
“Would you care to explain why I find you in the servants’ quarters, love?”
“You are clever enough to venture a guess. I am attempting to avoid you. I pray you, go away.”
He shook his head, unwilling to leave her like this. Smoothing her tresses from her neck, he massaged the satin skin of her nape. “Not until we reach an understanding.”
“Devil take you,” Sabrina muttered. “There is nothing more to be said.”
His voice dropped to a quiet murmur. “Do you truly want me out of your life, mouse?”
The sudden ache in her throat prevented her from replying. She could feel the warmth of his hand on her nape, gentle yet infinitely compelling.
“I’ve missed you, Sabrina. I’ve missed your fire, your courage, your passion, your clever tongue. Have you not missed me as well?”
Of course she had missed him, damn his eyes. Since leaving the Highlands, she’d done nothing but struggle against tormenting memories of Niall. “’Tis only a temporary obsession. It will pass, I’m certain.”
“No. There is obsession as well, but I think I’ve enough experience to recognize the uniqueness of my feelings. I’ve never felt this yearning of the heart, this need to fill the loneliness. I’m empty inside without you, Sabrina. You’re in my blood. I’ll never be free of you…I don’t want to be free.”
She lifted her head to gaze at him searchingly.
“I love you, Sabrina. Can you not feel it every time I take you in my arms?”
Sabrina squeezed her eyes shut, haunted by the memory of his male body saying so openly and truthfully that he wanted her. But lust was not love. “Whatever you feel for me, it isn’t love.”
“If so, then how do you explain this appalling misery I feel when you spurn me?”
“’Tis simple. You’re like a spoiled bairn denied sweetmeats for the first time in his life.”
Niall shook his head. “I’ve never loved any woman before, Sabrina. It’s the most bewildering, joyous feeling I’ve ever known. Look at me, sweeting.”
; She didn’t want to look at him, yet she couldn’t stop herself. She obeyed, and her heart ached to see those astonishingly warm eyes gazing so tenderly at her.
“You’re the only lass who has ever captured my heart.”
Sabrina swallowed hard, her face showing too much of the hope that fluttered in her heart. She wanted to believe him so badly that the depth of it terrified her.
“I intend to remain constant to you,” Niall replied quietly. “Upon my honor, Sabrina, I swear it.”
A shadow passed over her eyes. “It is not your honor I doubt. It is your making pledges you cannot keep.”
A breathtaking, whimsical smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Oh, I most assuredly will keep this one. Never again will I endure such torment as I have of late. My life has been a misery without you.”
“Your life was a misery with me, as I recall. We did nothing but fight.”
“And make love.”
“It isn’t enough, Niall. Marriage is more than lovemaking or physical pleasure. More than games or dalliance or flirtation. What we had was no true marriage.”
“No,” he said gravely, “it was not. But it will be.”
Gazing into his eyes, Sabrina felt a most disastrous weakening of the heart she was trying to steel against him. But it was foolish to succumb to his blandishments. “What I want from a union is not what you want.”
“And what do you want?”
“Love and loyalty and honesty…sharing thoughts and dreams, working together, building a future, a family.”
“You are wrong, Sabrina. I want those things as well. With you.”
When he reached for her, she was too dazed to resist.
His eyes darkening to a midnight shade, he framed her face in the gentle vise of his palms. “You are my wife, Sabrina. My only love. You belong to me. But I know I must convince you.”
My love. She shivered. The golden-throated words seemed so natural somehow, and they warmed her as little else ever had.
To her utter dismay then, Niall bent and kissed her, a soft, mind-numbing, devastating kiss that reached inside her and tore at her heart.
When Sabrina made a despairing sound of protest, he drew back, exhaling a shuddering breath. “I swore I would not take unfair advantage of you…Very well, sweeting. You win. You may have your bed back. I shall stay out of it till you issue me a personal invitation to return.” He straightened his shoulders, as if girding his resolve. “If you wish me to make love to you, you must ask.”
“You will have a long wait.”
“Then it shall be a bleak season for me, alas.” He gave a sigh. “If you won’t have me, then I shall have no one. You see, I intend to take a vow of celibacy.”
“A vow of what?”
Teasingly, Niall touched a gentle finger to her mouth, which was gaping open. “Never say I’ve rendered you speechless, mouse. Celibacy. Have you not heard of the term?”
“Certainly I have. But I doubt you have more than a passing acquaintance with it.”
“Fortuitously, no. But I can suffer great hardships if I must. I’m a Highlander, after all.”
Her bewilderment turned to suspicion. “I cannot credit you would give up so easily.”
“Oh, I am not giving up. I’ll not abandon the war, merely alter tactics.”
He rose and turned toward the door. “Sweet dreams, my own. Mine will be unquestionably desolate. I have sworn off all carnal pursuits until you can return my love.”
She had not seen the last of him, Sabrina knew. Niall was not a man to concede failure. And he had recruited allies.
Dismayingly, her stepfather earnestly championed his cause.
“I ken the lad’s sincere,” Charles said to her at breakfast that morning. “Can you not bring yourself to return home with him where you belong?”
“I don’t belong with Niall.”
“I’m not so certain. I’ve watched you, lass. You’ve changed since you wedded him. For the better. There’s a light in your eyes that was missing before…a flush on your cheeks. You come alive when he’s near. And now that you’ve had a taste of adventure, I’ll warrant you’ll find your existence here much too tame.”
That much was true. She missed the enchantment of the Highlands, the raw beauty, the stunning vibrancy. She missed the sense of newness and adventure she’d awakened to each day as Niall’s wife and mistress of Clan McLaren. She didn’t miss the pain.
Sabrina looked down at her plate. “I never expected to find a grand passion. I only desired a quiet union, based on mutual affection and respect. A husband who could care for me…children. Niall has no desire for those things.”
“He claims to love you.”
She nodded unwillingly, torn by conflicting emotions of hope and doubt. She wanted desperately to believe Niall meant his professions of love.
“Do you love him, lass?”
She couldn’t deny it, not without lying. She did love Niall, deeply and irrevocably. She hadn’t realized how much sheer joy he added to her previously humdrum existence. When he was away, she felt empty, abandoned, bereft of his spirit. When he was near, she wanted to burrow into his embrace and become part of him, the rest of the world be damned.
What had made her think she could walk out of his life?
“Well,” Charles said solemnly as he rose from the table, “one thing is clear. He seems determined to have you. And I, for one, would not care to stand in his way.”
Her stepfather quit the room, leaving Sabrina alone with her troubled thoughts. Her stepfather was right. Niall was a dangerous, ruthless rogue determined to pursue her. He knew how to bend a woman to his every whim, and he intended to give no quarter.
But she would prove herself a match for him.
Sabrina’s chin rose stubbornly. She refused to surrender so fecklessly. Niall thought he had only to waltz back into her life and she would fall at his feet. But he was taking a great deal for granted. She was no longer the passive mouse he had wed.
He would have to earn the right to her hand.
If he sincerely wanted to resume his place as her husband, if he truly meant to give her his love and loyalty, then he would have to prove it.
Only later that morning did Sabrina begin to comprehend precisely what her renowned rake of a husband meant when he vowed to change tactics. She had been relieved when Niall left the house before breakfast, but to her dismay, he awaited her when she stepped outside accompanied by a maidservant.
“May I be of service, milady?” he queried, sweeping her the exquisite bow of a cavalier.
Sabrina shook her head, resolved to be patient. “I require no assistance, thank you, sir.”
“Where are you bound?”
“To market, if you must know.”
To her surprise, Niall dismissed the maid. The meek lass was so awestruck by the handsome Highland laird, she could only bob a curtsy and, with a pleading look at her mistress, flee back inside the house.
“I shall carry your parcels, pet,” Niall asserted innocently, anticipating Sabrina’s disapproval.
“You cannot possibly be interested in shopping for dinner.”
“In truth, my soul shrivels at the prospect, but I have a keen interest in sharing your delightful company. If this is my only avenue, then I accept with magnanimity and grace.”
Determined to repress her amusement and resist his charm, Sabrina turned and started down the narrow street. Following, Niall captured her arm, tucking her hand within the crook of his elbow. “Can you fault me for desiring a liaison with my own wife?”
She smiled sweetly. “I fault you for making a wretched nuisance of yourself.”
“’Tis not my intention, pet.”
“No? Then what is your intention?”
“To show you how greatly I’ve reformed. That I’ve come to my senses.”
“On the contrary, your senses have gone begging.”
“I can fully understand your skepticism. But I’ve changed my wicked ways. It remains for me
to convince you of my devotion.”
“It will require an extraordinary degree of convincing.”
“I am up to the task. If you wish to be wooed, so be it.”
Sabrina halted in her tracks, gazing up at him. “I don’t wish to be wooed.”
“You deserve it, nonetheless. I made a grave mistake neglecting to shower you with the proper attention before our union. A mistake I intend to rectify forthwith.”
Sabrina took a deep breath, realizing he would insist on escorting her, whether she wished it or not. Niall McLaren was a bold, daring devil accustomed to gaining his way in all things.
“There is absolutely no need for this charade,” she replied as she resumed her pace toward the market square of old Edinburgh.
“’Tis no charade. I want the world to see how enamored I am of my wife.”
Sabrina’s only reply was a shrug.
The market was crowded and noisy, filled with the cries of fishmongers and butchers, bakers and flower merchants, all vociferously urging customers to sample their wares.
It came as no surprise to Sabrina when Niall appeared as much at ease here as he would in the most lavish ballroom or bedchamber. What took her aback was his deliberate display of affection. He was obviously intent on courting her, staking a public claim—and calling attention to his devotion in a highly visible manner.
His solicitation proved highly embarrassing when they came to a puddle of mud on a street corner. Before she knew what he was about, Niall had swept her up in his arms and carried her safely across. And then he had the audacity to chuckle at her flushed cheeks and snapping eyes.
She had scarcely recovered from that incident when they stopped at a butcher’s booth. When Niall held up a leg of lamb for her inspection, Sabrina couldn’t repress a laugh.
His eyebrow rose in mock query. “Something amuses you, sweeting?”
“I confess it diverting to see the greatest lover of all Europe stooping to forage for mutton.”
Niall grinned in response, an effect that was dazzling. “Indeed. How my friends would howl to see me dancing attendance on my wife. But there is no limit to what a man may do once struck by cupid’s arrow.”
The Lover Page 31