His Conquest

by Diana Cosby

  “Here.” Linet handed him a cup with water.

  Seathan drank slowly, the cool water heaven against his parched throat. He drained the wooden cup then handed it to her; their fingers brushed. Awareness poured through him in a lethal sweep.

  “My thanks,” he said.

  Linet’s eyes dilated as if she, too, had felt the heat. She nodded, turned away. “Go to sleep.”

  The foolish woman. Even in his condition, he could see her weariness. “I—I said you will rest as well.”

  She stiffened. “I will, eventually. For now I will keep watch.”

  He shifted, winced at the pain. “Nay. You wi-will lie now or I will drag you down here if necessary.”

  “I…” She again checked his wounds as if they were her only concern, but he saw through her guise.

  He shot her a warning look.

  With a nervous glance, she slipped between the covers beside him.

  Exhausted, satisfied that she’d stay, and ignoring the brush of their bodies, Seathan closed his eyes and succumbed to the inviting bliss of sleep.

  Silence.

  Long seconds passed.

  The slow rise and fall of his chest assured Linet the rebel was asleep. She allowed herself to relax. It was amazing he’d held out this long.

  Seathan shifted onto his back. Sunlight caressed the hard planes of his face, and the shadow of a full beard over his square jaw. In rest, his expression softened, hinted at lines carved by laughter. Intriguing. Lord Grey did not strike her as a man who would relax enough to give way to humor.

  He mumbled in his sleep.

  Drawn, she watched him. Her mouth tingled with remembrance of his lips covering hers. A mere kiss and he’d almost destroyed her. What would it be like if they made love?

  Heat stroked her face at her untoward thoughts. She dismissed them. They were but musings. Without his awareness of them, they hurt no one.

  Curious, Linet leaned closer, drawn to the man who was as great a mystery as a threat. His warmth curled around her, his inner strength as inherent as his domineering force.

  Tiredness washed over her, but a sense of peace as well.

  Peace?

  Odd when her life at this moment held naught but chaos.

  His steady breaths lulled her, as did the safety she felt by his side. She yawned, slid a hand’s breath toward him, and for the first time in many days, slipped into an undisturbed sleep.

  Seathan opened his eyes, his senses alert. The aches of his body provided an immediate reminder of his escape from the dungeon, and the morning sun streaming into the cave was an indicator that a day had passed. He glanced down at the lass.

  Not any lass. Linet.

  With his mind clear, he studied her as she slept, noting how her slender body curled against his with innocent trust. Her cheek lay flush upon his chest, her lashes crafting perfect half-moons against her ivory skin, and her long amber-gold hair loosened from its braid now framing her face.

  His gaze drifted to the curve of her mouth. Memories ignited of their heated kiss within the cell, of the passion, the unexpected rightness of it that had scorched his soul.

  Nay, ’twas only his mind’s haze from the torture he’d endured that invited such randy thoughts. Regardless of a woman’s passion in bed, well he understood their capacity for treachery. Though an innocent, Linet was still a stranger, a woman with secrets, far from a person he could care for, much less trust.

  What had driven her to give him his freedom? The reason involved Tearlach, of that he was sure.

  Throat dry, he again took in the inviting lines of her mouth. If he kissed her again, would her taste be different? He lowered his mouth a degree, her soft breaths tumbling over his cheek, her warmth inviting him closer. His body hardened, trembled with anticipation.

  Bedamned he would know.

  He claimed her mouth. A soft moan escaped her as he guided her, teased her, savored the supple lips that slowly responded.

  Thick lashes flew open. Startled lavender eyes cleared, darkened with pleasure. On a shudder, her body softened, molded against his own.

  Then she was kissing him back.

  Heat.

  It burned through him as if a torch thrown. He drowned in the scorching blaze, pressing her back to lay his full length against her soft curves. He had to have her, taste her every inch.

  Ignoring the lancing pain of the injury along his side, he cupped her mouth, took the kiss deeper, until she whimpered in his arms and arched against him as does a woman in need.

  On a groan, he inched down to taste the silken curve of her jaw, then grazed his teeth along the slender column of her neck, her gasps of pleasure threatening to break his hard-won control.

  With every sense steeped in her, he shoved her linen gown away to expose her breasts. God in heaven, they were a wondrous sight.

  Linet stilled. Her hand caught his fingers hovering over her breast. “No!”

  Seathan met her gaze, the desire in her eyes in direct contrast to her request.

  A distant shout echoed nearby.

  He turned toward the entry, blinked. God’s teeth! He’d been so caught up in the woman, he’d ignored the noise that had obviously pulled him from his slumber.

  Seathan withdrew his dagger. His arm ached from the quick movement. He ignored the pain. At least the dizziness of last night had passed.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Her wild, sensual look had him gritting his teeth. He placed a finger over her lips, silently groaned at their softness. “There are men outside.”

  Eyes dark with passion clouded to fear. Linet nodded.

  He removed his finger, then shoved to his feet, the blade curled within his hand. “Stay here. They should not find us.” With quiet steps, he crept to the entry.

  A rustle of clothes sounded as she repaired her gown. Soft footsteps sounded in his wake, then paused. “Can you see them?” she whispered.

  “Nay, but they are close.” Her scent teased him, as did the memories of her full breasts. Bedamned, what had he been doing kissing her, much less entertaining notions of making love to her?

  He peered out an open sliver between the moss cover.

  Shadows flickered in the trees.

  “They are coming,” he whispered.

  Sticks cracked, hooves clopped as the men rode into view.

  “Lord Tearlach has deployed a large contingent,” Seathan said, impressed by the number of knights.

  “You are a valuable prisoner.”

  Nerves rode her voice, which he expected, so why did her reply leave him on edge? He glanced at her; she hesitated, then looked away.

  “What?” he whispered, his anger finding a foothold.

  “I—”

  “We have seen no sign of them since yesterday,” a nearby guard stated.

  Seathan turned toward the approaching band of men.

  “Lord Tearlach is in a rage,” said a knight but paces away from their hideout.

  “As expected,” another knight replied. “Though, I am unsure if his anger is with the Scot or her for aiding in his escape.”

  A knight nodded. “She is a fool.”

  Linet gasped behind him.

  “Yes,” the closest man agreed, “since the viscount’s return, he has allowed her far too much rein. A beating would do her good.”

  The other knight grunted. “Lord Tearlach will find her. When he does, she will regret her treachery. Before this is done, he will bend her to his will.”

  “Onward,” a lead knight called. Soft earth flew from beneath the horses’ hooves. The slap of leather and jingle of spurs faded as the knights disappeared into the forest.

  Seathan turned. Linet’s face had paled. Her nerves now made sense. Anger built as each subtle clue, each fragmented remark of yesterday, fell into place.

  Eyes wide, she stepped back as if realizing his fury.

  “Aye, Lord Tearlach may want me, but it would seem in this quest, you are the true prize.” He stalked toward h
er. “Bend you to his will? The question, my lady, is why?”

  Chapter 4

  At Seathan’s approach, Linet held her ground. He was furious at learning the men hunted her with equal determination. So much for believing his exhaustion and battered state would save her.

  A pace away, he halted. Menace carved harsh lines across his face. “Why do the men want you?” he demanded.

  The force of his determination engulfed her, but she refused to look away. “We both have secrets.”

  Green eyes darkened to a hard edge. “Secrets, aye, but you purposely hid that yours were of a personal nature and involved the Viscount of Tearlach.”

  Sweet Mary. Did he suspect her blood tie with Fulke? No, she’d said nothing to expose a link to her brother. “The reason for the viscount’s anger, his desire to have me back, is my affair.”

  “Ours.” A muscle worked in his jaw. “I have agreed to escort you to the Highlands. A vow I will not break. Until you are delivered, whatever provokes the viscount’s anger toward you affects us both.” He leaned closer, his face dark. “Do you not think I should know the reason?”

  Linet held her ground. “In the dungeon you agreed not to question why I had freed you.” At his ominous silence, panic stirred in her soul. Why was she debating with a man who would always view her as his enemy, a dangerous rebel whom she was foolishly beginning to care for? She stepped back. “I need not your help. I can make it to the Highlands alone.”

  He arched a skeptical brow. “After you risked your life to free me from the dungeon to be your escort, now you decide you will journey across the rugged terrain alone? Tell me, my lady, what has changed?” A cold smile edged his mouth. “Or should I ask, who has swayed your decision?”

  With her nerves fraying like spun yarn unraveling, Linet struggled for calm.

  At her silence, Lord Grey studied her with predatory intrigue. His nostrils flared. “Is Lord Tearlach your lover?”

  “As I told you in the stables, he is a man I despise.” The truth. Her brother would manipulate anyone if it meant his own personal gain, including those related by blood.

  “Perhaps,” Seathan agreed, “but more than dislike lingers between you and the viscount for him to search you out with such furious intent.”

  She shrugged. “He does not like to be crossed.”

  Despite the storm of emotions brewing within him, Seathan stepped back. With her beauty and sharp mind, it was easy to see why the viscount would want her. And with the memories of Linet’s passionate kiss burning through his mind, easy to understand why Tearlach would order his men to scour the lands for her.

  But in this, Tearlach would fail. The bastard would never find her. On that, Seathan gave his solemn vow.

  The strength of his possessiveness toward Linet stunned him. He wanted the lass in his bed. What man would not want a woman whose passion rivaled that of a well-paid courtesan? Except, from her innocent reaction to his kisses, he suspected few if any men had ever touched her. An intriguing blend that made him want her all the more.

  A whisper inside his mind hinted his feelings for her went deeper. More than those of a night’s bedding.

  Nay. She meant naught to him. The lass was but a means of freedom. And if he took her to his bed, it would be only for shared pleasure. His previous lover, Iuliana, had used him, etched in his soul the high price of giving a woman his trust, and of the hurt and shame that followed.

  Seathan banked his temper, his impatience. Aye, he’d given his word that he’d not press Linet for why she’d released him. But during the time they would spend together, she would lower her guard and he would learn the truth. He was a man who achieved his goals.

  A fact Linet would soon learn.

  With his moving about, his right side had begun to throb. He sheathed his sword, rolled his shoulders in an effort to loosen the tension thrumming through his body.

  “You need to sit,” Linet said, her words guarded as she watched him as if assessing his shifting moods.

  “Why do you care whether I rest or not since you can make it to the Highlands without me?” He nodded. “Your words, my lady.”

  “I…” She looked away, but not before he caught her shimmer of true concern. “I was raised to do what is right. Unlike Lord Tearlach, whose decisions are based on greed.” She turned to face him, her expression fierce with belief. “He is a man who cares not that his self-serving desire devastates the innocent.”

  Her claim intrigued him. “I am far from innocent.”

  “True. The viscount’s interest in you is purely for the gain of power, to earn King Edward’s praise. He has no thought to aid his people or his kingdom.”

  “It is rare for an Englishwoman to hold such views.”

  “You forget, I am half Scottish.”

  “I assure you, your heritage is a fact I well remember.” A fact that made him curious to learn more about this complex lass. With her in-depth knowledge of the viscount along with the confidence with which she spoke, any doubts as to her being a lady, a noblewoman high within the ranks of Breac Castle, fell away. For Tearlach to be interested in Linet, her father must have been a powerful lord. Which noble was he?

  “Regardless,” she continued, “my heritage is not what guides my life, but the teachings of my father: humbleness, fairness, and respect.”

  Seathan grunted. “If only Lord Tearlach were guided by the same hand.”

  At his words, she stilled. “Forgive me. I prattle on about a man who is worthy of naught but scorn while you stand before me shaking. Please, sit.”

  Seathan glanced down, surprised to find that indeed his body was trembling. Bedamned. No time for delays. It would take a day, mayhap two, before he was strong enough to travel at a solid pace.

  He must intercept Alexander and Duncan before Tearlach’s men set up an ambush and stumbled across his brothers as the soldiers scoured the viscount’s lands for him and Linet.

  Weariness flooded him as he strode toward the back of the cave, where weathered rock fell away to expose the vast gorge below.

  As he neared the cave’s opening, the distant roar of water from the falls grew. He glanced at the pallet where they’d lain. Desire seared him at the memory of waking to find Linet curled against him with innocent trust.

  The soft pad of her footsteps within the cave heightened his awareness. He wanted her, aye, but mired in secrets, she was a woman wisdom bade he avoid.

  With his mind steeped in emotions he’d rather not feel, instead of returning to lie upon the pallet, he pressed his back to the cool stone wall and slid to sit on the floor. With his forehead resting on his raised knees, for a moment he closed his eyes, appreciating the roar of the water below, the warmth of the sun upon his skin, and the rich scent of the earth and mist-laden air.

  He opened his eyes, inhaled deeply, and scanned the gorge. To his right, water surged over the jagged ledge carved by thousands of years of wear. Boulders, some sun bleached, others covered by vines thick with newborn leaves, framed the rush of water, which plunged into an angry pool swirling far below.

  Mist rose above the dark churning pool, a mesmerizing shroud of white that transformed glints of sunlight into fragile rainbows. Magical arcs of color as if cast by the fairies.

  The fey?

  He blew out a rough breath. Aye, he was weary indeed to be thinking such fanciful thoughts. Such musings were typical of his younger brother, Duncan. Never did he allow his imagination to stray to ponderings of no consequence. Or he hadn’t since his youth, a time when he’d also believed in true love.

  He ignored the impulse to glance at Linet. He’d learned that faithful women didn’t exist. Only those who played cruel games, used lovers to invite jealousy, then cast them aside.

  “Seathan?”

  Linet’s soft voice caressed his name. His gaze remained riveted upon the falls. “What?”

  The soft scuff of her slippers echoed as she stepped beside him. A breeze fluttering her gown against her slender calves lure
d him to look.

  “With the knights gone,” she said, “it is safe for me to search for plantain. Rest while I am away. I will return before sunset.”

  He bristled. “You will remain here.”

  Lavender eyes widened with surprise, then narrowed, a stubborn sign he was becoming all too familiar with. “The herb will speed the healing of your wounds.”

  “No lass issues me orders.”

  “But I shall.” She paused, arched a slender brow. “It is said plantain also aids in curing the madness of dogs.”

  Her bravado intrigued him. Who was this woman who feared not her enemy? Irritated that he wanted her, Seathan shoved to his feet, ignoring the burst of dizziness.

  He shot her a hard look. “I will accompany you.”

  She angled her jaw. “Your arrogance amazes me. But I wonder, is it your arrogance or your distrust that I shall not return?”

  “Had you wanted to leave, you could have done so numerous times. Yet you stayed, which again raises the question why.”

  Red swept across her cheeks. “Waste your time wondering about my intent if you will. I, for one, have more important things to do. I must find herbs to help your wounds heal.” She paused, shot him a withering glare. “If I was of sane mind, I would leave them to fester to match your charming attitude.” Linet turned away.

  Seathan caught her arm, whirled her to face him.

  Outrage splashed across her cheeks. “Release me.”

  Instead, he stared at her face, wanting to see her eyes, to find a truth he could believe in. “Why do you care about me?”

  A look of uncertainty flickered in her eyes, her gaze as defiant as shaken. “I…I do not know.”

  The honesty in her voice had him mentally backtracking, reevaluating. Christ’s blade. Did he believe in her innocence? He released her.

  “Come.” Shoving aside his lingering weakness, Seathan strode toward the cave’s exit, his mind wrapped in her, of the vow he’d made. Aye, he’d agreed to guide her to the Highlands, but when would the lass realize he’d omitted to specify the time frame?