Highland Hearts 03 - Crimson Heart

by Heather McCollum

  Elena rested her forehead on her knees just above the soapy surface of the water. Only in solitude would she allow the tears to come, sliding against her wet skin to blend in with her bath. The note lay on the mantle where she’d left it. It had been on her bed when she returned to the room, along with a locket. The chain from the golden oval which held two miniature pictures dangled from the mantle, catching the flicker of firelight in the darkening room. An inscription with her given name on it was etched on the back into the hard silver.

  What am I to do? Thomas, what direction would you have me take? Whenever any political possibility had reared its ugliness while she hid at Grimsthorpe, she’d send right away to her guardian. Thomas had always come galloping to the rescue to discuss possibilities and strategies, most of which were far flung and ridiculous. You are a princess. When the time is right, you will rule England, Elena.

  Elena squeezed her eyes tight, pushing out the last of her tears. “No more.” She leaned back, letting the water hold her body, and banished the sign of weakness with a wipe across her eyes. She breathed fully, in and out, calming herself.

  The death of Thomas had been heart rending, but with it, Elena had thought herself safe from political manipulation. She but wanted to live simply without being an unwelcome responsibility to anyone. Despite Thomas’s insistence, she had no royal plans. Her father hadn’t wanted her and her mother hadn’t been strong enough to fight for her. Unfortunately her mother had written a letter to Mary Tudor telling her of Elena’s existence, a letter that had survived and was probably found in Thomas’s estate along with the locket. She glanced at the chain. The damning thing even had her name inscribed on it.

  “What to do?” she whispered into the room. The silent stone walls seemed to lean in as if waiting for her to answer. She could go to the gate and meet with Lord Randolph, letting him and Lord Arran pull the puppet strings from which Thomas had been forcibly cut away. She would sneak away so that Searc couldn’t find her. They hadn’t wed; they hadn’t even gotten around to her ruination. Lord Randolph would be exceedingly pleased about that. Certainly he would guard her virtue to sell it to a prince to rule England beside her. Or, more likely it would all come to naught, and she’d end up on the butchering block. But as he’d said in the note, either way she would be useful, no longer a burden on anyone.

  The water was cooling, yet Elena didn’t move more than to look at the wrinkled skin of her fingertips. The key turned in the door and opened. “I am almost finished,” she spoke in French and scooped up the soft bar of rose-scented soap, running it briskly along her arms. She lifted one leg and let the slippery suds wash over her with her hands. Her hair had been washed with help from the maids and was drying over the back of the tub.

  When she didn’t hear the maid leave the room, she glanced over her shoulder and stopped all movement like a deer caught in a hunter’s sights. Searc stood by the door, his gaze strong but without any emotion. He stuck the key in the inside lock and turned it, sealing them in together.

  She watched him walk into the center of the room, his movements fluid and silent despite his height and muscle. He was like a grand beast, full of barely leashed power and overwhelming strength. Her pulse quickened.

  He walked over, looking down at her. He must be able to see her body shadowed through the water, certainly her breasts breaking the surface. But she didn’t look at herself, only followed his face. His gaze moved over the tub, stopping on her hand where her fingers curled around one edge. He grasped it, pulling the hand closer.

  “Yer wrist.” He looked to the water where her other one rested on the bottom of the tub. “Yer hands were bound at Lyngfield’s.” His voice was rough, forced. Elena barely breathed. “Ye flinched when I took your arm. I hurt ye.”

  “You didn’t know,” she whispered.

  He closed his eyes for the count of two of her breaths. “Because ye didn’t tell me.” Even though the volume of his voice was softer, the tone pierced her more. He continued to hold her hand gently. She wondered if he’d let her pull it back if she tried. He waited. For an explanation? Did she have one she could give?

  “He knows things about me, Roger Lyngfield…” She swallowed. “And Lord Randolph.”

  Searc’s inhaled fully as if holding tight to his control. He seemed to grow larger there over her. “The English ambassador was there.”

  She nodded very slightly. “They know dangerous things. I couldn’t let Lyngfield be questioned. I…I’m so sorry I let the guards think…” she trailed off.

  “I don’t give a damn what Marie’s guards thought,” he nearly yelled, but then seemed to tighten his control. He looked closer at her wrist where the skin had been rubbed raw by the tight rope. “Except that it will be harder to rally them in the future if needed.”

  “Oh,” came out of her on a breath as he ran his thumb softly over the chaffed skin.

  “The other one,” he ordered and she raised her left arm from the cool water for him to inspect. Her breasts sat above the surface now, pert with the chill of the room. Yet Searc’s gaze remained on the rope burns as he turned her wrists this way and that. She barely breathed and her stomach flipped. Never before had she been naked with a man. Yet she didn’t want to hide. For once in her life she yearned to reveal herself.

  His shoulders became very still. “Which one bound you?”

  “Lyngfield.”

  He looked to her mouth, his eyes hard like blue stones set in granite. “Ye have a cut at the corner of yer lips.” His eyes shifted as she touched her mouth with a finger. Tender. “He…gagged ye.” Searc’s words were barely whispers, so cold that she shivered. His jaw worked as if he ground his teeth.

  “Only because I wouldn’t stop screaming,” she whispered and then wished she hadn’t. Searc dropped her hand and rose as quickly as a sword being drawn.

  “I’ll kill him!” His roar swelled with such passion she could easily imagine his teeth sharpening into the lethal maw of a wolf. He turned to the door, his sword drawn as if the blade was famished and gleeful for blood.

  Elena jumped up, sloshing water over the edge, and hopped out of the tub. She grabbed the bathing sheet the maids had left. “I screamed only because he was taking me inside his house against my will!” She ran, blocking the door. “He didn’t touch me otherwise.” She met his ruthless gaze. Sparks of red jumped in the backs of his blue eyes. “Lord Randolph had him untie me when he came in.”

  She reached a hand up to his chest.

  “Do not touch me, Elena.” A warning. What would happen to her if she touched him while he was so enraged? While his eyes held an ember of fury?

  She leaned back against the door, her bare, wet toes curling against the stone floor. She didn’t want him to go. She didn’t want to be alone. Not anymore.

  “Step aside,” he ordered.

  “I’d rather you stayed.” Elena traced the hard angles of Searc’s face with her gaze. She’d come to know those lines over the days since he’d rescued her in the forest, come to trust the man behind them. For the first time in her life she didn’t want to hide herself anymore. She had today, and it had cost her so much, too much. “Don’t leave me.” One by one Elena opened her fingers that clutched the bath sheet. The damp linen dropped to her feet.

  “Elena—”

  “I am unhurt,” she interrupted. “But—” she raised her hand timidly toward his face. He didn’t move away. “I don’t want to be alone.” He still hadn’t looked down at her body, but held her gaze locked to his. Her hand crept closer. “I don’t want to hide anymore.” The pads of her fingers hovered near his jaw, the stubble giving him a roguish look. She held her breath and touched him.

  He closed his eyes and inhaled as she lay her palm along his face. When he opened them again Elena’s breath caught at the intensity there. The red spark was gone, but another spark made her heart beat inside her like a bird within a cage. She left his jaw and took his hand, placing it on her exposed collarbone where her heart beat i
nsistently. “I will do everything I can not to have you look at me again like you did today in that filthy cottage.” She slid his hand down her chest to her breast.

  “Nay.” He shook his head, pulling his hand away. “Ye will not make amends this way, Elena.”

  She stepped closer to his warmth, her naked back cold in the chilled room, completely vulnerable. “No, I mean…I’m done hiding from you, Searc.” She shook her head. “It is too painful to keep secrets. I’d rather… After today, your look. It would be less painful to die then keep them from you.” She felt her eyes watering up but blinked the tears away. “I want you to know me, everything about me.” She pressed close against him to wrap her hands around the back of his neck. “Starting with this.” She kissed him.

  His exhale was half groan, half growl, yet still he resisted. “Lass, ye don’t need to do this.”

  She frowned at him. “Damn it, Searc, stop being so noble.” His eyes widened slightly. “I want this. I want you, and if you turn me away after I’ve thrown myself literally in your hands naked—”

  Searc cut her off, grasping her face, angling it to press tightly against his lips. His one hand wrapped around her back, running down the chilled skin covering her spine, pressing her to him. The feel of him, so completely aroused, melted her worry away. He did want her. A hot ache shot down through her body.

  He kissed a sizzling trail to her ear where he rasped. “The letter said to guard—”

  “I don’t care what it said.” She clung to him. “I want nothing unknown between us, Searc Munro. I want you to know me, every inch of me, outside and within.”

  His gaze devoured her but still he held back. “Searc.” She must convince him. “Of this I am absolutely certain. By claiming my maidenhood, you are protecting me. I am much more valuable to those who seek to use me if I remain a virgin.” At the words she glanced down at his squared chin instead of meeting his eyes. Would he think she was merely using him?

  Searc moved his hands to the sides of her head, gently cradling it, tilting it so that she must meet his gaze. “Who are ye, lass?”

  She felt herself trembling yet still met his stare. Drawing in a deep breath, she swallowed, blinking back tears. “I am…” It was there on the tip of her tongue, her secret she had held all her life. She could say them. Surely he wouldn’t cast her away, throw her to the English who sought her for their own purposes. Her eyes watered up. “Searc, I am—”

  He stopped her with a kiss, hard and hot. “My wife.” He pressed the words against her mouth, engulfing her, drawing her into his warmth. Large arms encircled her shoulders, hands flat along her bare back.

  “But Searc, I must tell you.”

  “You are trembling. Nay.” He shook his head and kissed her again. He held back enough to look into her eyes. “Right now it is just Searc and Elena, a man and his lass.”

  In an instant, Searc shrugged out of his linen shirt and hugged her to him. His skin was hot compared to hers. Like a moth drawn to a flame, Elena wondered briefly how much it hurt to be scorched. The worry washed from her mind as Searc’s lips descended, teasing hers open. His heat infused her and flooded down through her trembling body. His large hands spanned her back, stroking downward to rub along her flared hips, molding her to his strength.

  Elena clung to his neck, and he lifted her off her toes. She buried her face in the hollow of his throat. It was as if she were flying as he carried her across the room to the bed. He lowered her, grabbing a fur throw and wrapping her up in it, soft side inward. He stood back, unbuckling the belt that held the pleated kilt in its place slung low on his hips. Her eyes feasted on his sculpted stomach and chest, covered by a sprinkling of hair. His bronzed skin showed he’d spent time without his shirt. Nothing short of hours of daily sword practice could have created such obvious strength. The thought of him swinging his sword, bare-chested in the sun made Elena’s stomach flip and heat rush below. Her eyes roamed upward to his massive shoulders and down his powerful arms. Never had she seen such a man, such a warrior.

  Searc paused, his loose belt in his hand. “Yer eyes are very round, lass.”

  Elena blinked and looked up at his familiar face. “You are so large.”

  His lips quirked into a half grin. “And I haven’t even dropped my kilt yet.” He moved to the side of the bed and sat, his kilt still around him. “Ye are sure?” His grin disappeared.

  Elena met his gaze and nodded. “Of course. Yet…you are larger than most men?”

  The fur around her tickled her sensitive skin. “Aye,” he whispered against her mouth, kissing her. “But I am at yer command, Elena.” He pulled back to look in her eyes. “I will do as ye ask. Ye are in control.”

  “I am?” He nodded. “But I’m a maid.”

  “I’ll give ye some hints.” His hand snaked around behind her head to tangle in her hair. His mouth opened against hers and she felt her own lips give way, tasting him back. A groan rumbled up from his throat as he tilted her face, deepening the kiss. Elena held his shoulders to stop from falling backwards and felt the coolness of the air as the fur slipped from her.

  “Where should I touch ye?” Searc kissed the side of her mouth, softly and slow like he was tasting her.

  Elena breathed quickly, her head spinning. “I…I don’t know.”

  His hands on her cheeks, he pulled back. “Talk to me, Elena.” She blinked open to find him studying her eyes. His were dark, the blue like that of a midnight ocean. “Tell me where to touch ye.”

  “My skin,” she breathed. He ran his hands from her face, to her shoulders, his palms covering them completely.

  He slid his hands down her arms and back up. Elena’s breath caught. With a shiver, she wet her lips and noticed his gaze slipping to them.

  He took her long arm, opening it and kissing the tender flesh inside her elbow. It tickled but sent another rush of sizzling heat through her. He kissed a hot trail up her arm and shoulder. “Ye are in control, lass. Would ye like me to kiss yer lovely neck?”

  Elena felt flushed yet chilled with goose bumps at the same time. What was happening to her? She’d never felt this way before. “Yes,” she whispered.

  Searc leaned further in to kiss the flesh. She shivered as the heat of his kiss mixed with the tickle of his stubbled jaw. He rained a hot trail down the side of her neck, slowly tasting her, inhaling against her skin.

  His large hands stroked her back while his lips sought the hollow of her throat. Could he feel her wild heart beating there, fluttering against the new ache building in her?

  Elena’s legs slid back and forth on top of the fur that now lay unfolded under her. Restless, they stroked along Searc’s large calves as he kneeled next to her on the bed. He laid her back and ran his hands down, brushing his thumbs against the sides of her full breasts. Puckered, they ached to be touched. His gaze lowered to see them and she felt her back arch. Watching him gaze at her did dizzying things to her stomach and her breath came shallow.

  Searc moved over her, kissing her fully on the mouth again as his hands stroked her arms, brushing, teasing but not touching her breasts. She groaned and felt an impatient throbbing in her abdomen. In her kiss she tasted his restrained hunger, the intensity in which he held himself above her as if he waited for more words.

  “There,” she whispered.

  Elena rolled slightly to one side as his hand came down, making him catch her nipple. She pushed into his palm and he cupped her breast. She kissed him harder and moved against his legs, pressing her body upward.

  “Elena.” His lips moved against hers mouth. “Let go. Don’t think. Just feel.”

  God’s teeth! She wanted to let go. She ached, wishing it to build even more inside her, but she might come apart if it did. If she let go, who would she be? Her whole life, she’d held tightly to one role or another, playing her parts to perfection. And yet Searc just wanted her to let go of all that, become herself. She wanted to, ached to. Searc’s strength and heat surrounded her. He protected her, res
pected her. Yet she wanted more.

  “Touch all of me,” she begged and pulled on his bottom lip with her kiss.

  She placed her palm on his chest and felt the deep thudding of his heart. Could he possibly be as affected as she? The thought gave her courage.

  His large hand cupped her breast fully, taking its weight as he kissed her neck. “So soft, so beautiful,” he murmured and then something more in his wild Scot’s language. The sound of it trilled through her and the ache pulsed even more, breaking from her in a moan.

  Searc’s fingers found her nipple, pinching gently, too gently. “More,” she whispered and he increased the pressure, finding the other breast as well. He knelt over her now, loving her with his hands, kissing his way down her throat onto the plane of her collarbone. Hot kisses and stroking drove every thought from her mind. Elena felt feverish as his mouth moved lower. Her fingers tangled through his dark hair. She reveled in the feel of sheer power under her fingertips and inhaled the smell of him—heat with an undercurrent of pine and leather.

  As his mouth closed around her nipple she gasped at the shot of pure fire racing from the source down through her body. Elena arched off the fur, thrusting her chest upward toward him as he sucked and teased with his tongue and teeth. He loved the other breast, strumming, preparing it before moving his mouth to taste it too.

  Elena’s toes curled in the coverlet as she bent her knees, her lower half scooting toward Searc’s heat. As she raised her bare leg to feel his hip, she realized his kilt was no longer around his waist. Her calf hooked up on him and rubbed down his hip to his bare thigh. He groaned against her and she repeated the stroke. He shifted, leaning over her on an elbow to look up at her.

  He was marvelous. Dark hair and stormy blue eyes, strong jaw and perfect lips, lips that had just been teasing her flesh. Another ache pulsed below. He kissed the valley between her breasts, watching her face the whole time. She breathed. He waited.

  “More,” she instructed. He nuzzled against her breasts, the prickle of his stubble against her sensitive skin shot off tingles of sensation. “Yes,” she breathed. “Lower.” She reveled in the power he’d given her to command him. She turned further into him to run her foot from his hip down his long, muscular leg again.