The Campbell Trilogy

by Monica McCarty

  Chapter 22

  Caitrina’s pulse raced with a sudden burst of panic. He was going to leave her. Desperation rose up inside her. She needed to do something to stop him.

  “Jamie!”

  He stopped before the door but did not turn around, his back stiff with resolve.

  Feeling suddenly helpless, Caitrina twisted her hands in her skirts before she caught herself. She wasn’t helpless. She hadn’t survived the past few months to let everything fall apart now. She wouldn’t let it come to this. She didn’t want to lose Jamie any more than she wanted to lose her brothers. Surely they could find some common ground?

  “Please,” she said. “Don’t go. Not like this.”

  Slowly he turned around to face her. “I’m tired of fighting with you, Caitrina. Leave it be, before we both say something we wish we hadn’t.”

  She walked toward him, coming to a stop only when she stood right before him—close enough to feel the heat blasting from him like a firestorm waiting to envelop her in his sensual hold. Her body crackled with awareness as it always did when she stood this close to him, craving the balm of his touch. She wanted to run her hands all over his broad chest, to feel the warm velvet of his skin over the hard, chiseled muscle.

  He was imprinted on her mind and body, and every instinct clamored to reclaim the intimacy, to seek refuge in the deep connection that could not be denied.

  “I don’t want to argue with you either.” I want you to hold me. I want you to tell me everything is going to be all right. She leaned closer to him, drowning her senses in his sultry masculine scent. Lifting up on her toes, she slid her arms around his neck. “It doesn’t have to be like this.”

  He stood stiffly before her, but she could feel his body react to her touch. Passion, restraint, and smoldering anger sizzled between them.

  “It doesn’t?”

  She shook her head. “I love you, and if you love me—”

  “I do, God damn it,” he growled. “If only you knew how much.”

  Every muscle in his powerful body tensed with restraint, and she could tell that he was holding himself by a very thin thread. His nostrils flared when her mouth moved to inches below his. She hated when he was like this: the cold, ruthless warrior. The man who didn’t need anyone.

  She wanted him to need her as desperately as she needed him.

  She wanted to slide her mouth along the hard flex of his stubbled jaw until it softened with desire. To drag her hand over the rigid bands of muscle on his stomach until she reached the thick column of his manhood and make him groan with need of her. Instead, she smoothed her hand over the soft wool of his breacan feile at his shoulder, noticing how the muted blues and grays of the plaid complemented his eyes. Her gaze was drawn once again to the Campbell chieftain pin he used to secure it—the boar’s head a sharp reminder of all that stood between them.

  Why did it have to be so complicated?

  Maybe it didn’t. Maybe in his arms everything would become clear—he would see that nothing should come between them. Maybe if he knew how much she loved him …

  Sometimes words weren’t enough.

  “Then show me,” she whispered. “Please.”

  She melted against him, her breasts crushed to his chest, and he groaned. His mouth sank over hers, and passion exploded between them as hot and swift as lightning. It had been too long. There was a desperate, raw urgency to their movements, as if they were both fighting to hold on to something that was in danger of slipping away.

  She returned his kiss with equal fervor, opening to take him deep into her mouth. The warm, delicious taste of him drenched her with heat—and hunger. The anguish and anger of a few moments ago slid away as the hard pull of desire drove everything else from her mind.

  His hand slid down her back and gently cupped her bottom, lifting her hard against him as he sank deeper and deeper in her mouth. Heat rushed between her legs as she felt the thick steely column wedged against her.

  Her legs grew weak, and she clutched his shoulders, sensing the passion straining under her fingertips.

  His kiss was wild as his hands possessed her. He cupped her breast, her nipple hardening against the warm pressure of his palm. His tongue plied hers, hard and demanding. She met him stroke for stroke, holding nothing back.

  Her breathing came in uneven gasps as her need spiraled out of control. He moaned into her mouth with each hungry thrust of her tongue.

  Lifting her leg around his waist, he nudged her more firmly against his erection. God, he felt so good. So hard and full. Heat pooled between her legs. She was throbbing where they touched. The pressure was almost too much to take. She wanted to rub up and down over him until the clawing need subsided.

  His mouth slid down her neck, mindful of her bandage, singeing a path of sensation in its heated wake. The wetness of his lips, the warmth of his breath, the flick of his tongue, made her skin prickle and sent a hard shiver running through her. Every nerve ending was set on edge, so that every stroke, every touch, seemed more intense.

  And when his tongue slid beneath the edge of her sark, circling the turgid peak of her nipple with moist heat, she thought she might fall apart.

  Her head fell back in abandon as he took her nipple more fully in his mouth and sucked while his hand lovingly squeezed her breast. She cried out as a white hot needle of desire shot through her, and she collapsed against him, utterly boneless.

  Her legs were swept up under her as he lifted her in his arms, carrying her toward the bed. Clasping her hands behind his neck, she laid her cheek against his plaid as she tried to catch her breath.

  Carefully he set her down, and she sank into the pillowy feather mattress. Leaning over, he looked deep into her eyes—his own dark and hazy with unspent passion. “Are you sure about this?” he asked.

  How could he ask such a thing? She held his face in her hands and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, lingering at the rich, dark taste of him. “I never want you to doubt how much I love you. I don’t want anything to come between us.”

  His lips curved in a smile that reached his eyes. “It won’t, my love.”

  Happiness burst over her in a shimmering wave at hearing exactly what she’d wanted to: agreement. I knew he would reconsider.

  With nothing left between them, he quickly removed his own clothing and then hers. When they were both naked, she didn’t let him stop to look as he wanted to, but pulled him down on top of her.

  Automatically, he tried to roll to the side, but she stopped him. “No. I want to feel you. All of you.” Latent fears had no place in their bed.

  He took her chin and dropped a tender kiss on her lips, then his eyes searched her face intently. “You’re sure?”

  In answer, she slid her hands over the wide span of his chest, gripped his powerful shoulders, and pulled him down on top of her—skin to skin. The feel of his weight pressing into her was incredible, the pressure exquisite. He was so heavy and hot, her skin flamed where they touched. They melded together in a pool of liquid fire.

  He kissed her with a deep groan that tugged in her chest. It was a sound of raw pleasure and deep emotion that called to her in the most primitive way.

  His mouth found hers again in a long, languid kiss that seemed to reach down to her toes. His lips were soft and coaxing as his tongue probed the deep recesses of her mouth and throat.

  Their bodies slid against each other, the friction rousing her passion to a maelstrom. Her body dampened, deeply aware of his thick, hard erection hot and throbbing against her belly.

  Unable to hold back, she clutched his back, his shoulders, the hard flanks of his buttocks, wanting him closer. Wanting him inside her.

  Jamie wanted nothing more than to slide deep inside her and relieve their restlessness, but he didn’t want to rush. He wanted to savor every moment of their joining.

  Whatever qualms he’d had were appeased by her words of understanding. Their love was what was important; nothing else mattered. Her trust warmed him, a
nd he was relieved that she’d recognized the truth before it was too late.

  His lips dragged over her mouth, her chin, her neck. His hands caressed the baby soft skin of her breasts and hips. He loved feeling her under him, raking her hard nipples against his chest and rubbing her downy mound near the head of his cock.

  It was ironic—they’d made love countless times, but never in this most basic position. It seemed the final surrender of trust.

  He was deeply conscious of how small and vulnerable she was. As if to dispel that notion, she lifted her hips against his in gentle entreaty. Blood rushed to his already throbbing erection as he circled her damp opening with his heavy head, teasing.

  He bent his head and took one pink nipple in his mouth, nibbling and sucking until she writhed under him. Her skin tasted of honey and heat.

  He forced her to slow, sliding his hands over her belly, down the insides of her legs, and up to the soft inner thigh. His finger brushed over her, and she shuddered.

  She was so warm and soft, weeping for his touch. She tensed in anticipation. He slid his finger along her slick opening until she spread for him.

  Releasing her breast, he gazed up at her face as his mouth slid down the pale curve of her belly. Her eyes were hot and heavy with desire, her breathing rough as she realized what he was going to do.

  He could not wait to inhale her heat, to slide his tongue deep inside her. Holding both hands under her hips, he lifted her to his mouth. Then, holding her gaze, he pressed his mouth to her feminine core.

  She cried out with pleasure as his lips nuzzled the delicate pink skin between her legs. As his mouth tasted her dampness. And then as his tongue probed deep inside her.

  He loved to watch as ecstasy took hold. As her head fell back, her back arched and her lush red lips parted with hitched breath.

  She pressed her hips against his mouth, finding that perfect spot of pleasure as her release shattered over her in wave after wave of pulsing pleasure.

  It was too much.

  He lifted his mouth and moved over her. He looked down between their bodies, his hard and stiff, hers soft and pliant, as he slid gently inside her and started to thrust with long, deep strokes.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist and lifted her hips to take him deeper as their rhythm built to a frantic beat that matched the pace of his heart.

  He gave over to the primal call. Heat washed over him and blood pounded through his body.

  She was so tight and soft, milking him with her body. Drawing him back even as he pulled away.

  His eyes closed as the force of his release built inside him. He heard her own cries just as pleasure erupted from deep inside him. As the love he felt for her poured from his body in a powerful explosion that welled up from deep in his soul.

  When the last tremor had died away, all he could do was collapse beside her, trying to find his breath and the words to express the happiness he was feeling.

  He rolled to his side so that he could look at her. His chest squeezed with love. Her breathing was uneven, her cheeks flushed pink, and her lips red and swollen from his kisses. His fingers swept a strand of hair that had tangled in her thick, velvety black lashes. A tiny smile curved her lips. Her eyes fluttered open for a moment.

  “I’m so happy that you decided not to go through with it,” she murmured, sleep tugging on her lids.

  Unaware that he’d stiffened beside her, that she’d just plunged a dirk in his heart, she drifted off into a happy, well-sated slumber.

  Chapter 23

  Caitrina woke with a start at the sound of movement below her window.

  God, what time is it? She rolled side to side a few times and pulled the pillow over her head, trying to drown out the clatter. The lull of more sleep tempted, but awareness hovered around the edges of her consciousness, forcing her awake.

  She opened her eyes to a room still shadowed in darkness. But she didn’t need light to know that she was alone. Sometimes it felt as if she were so aware of him, he’d become a part of her, as vital as air and food. And when he was gone, she felt his absence as acutely as a missing limb.

  She frowned, wondering what had taken him from bed so early. She stretched her arms over her head and yanked them back again, retreating to the cozy warmth of the coverlet. The chill dawn had taken hold of the thick stone tower walls and wouldn’t easily let go. Glancing to the fireplace, she realized the fire had died long ago.

  He’d been gone for some time.

  A slow, satisfied smile spread across her face as she recalled what had happened last night. Jamie was usually so immovable; she’d been terrified that she wouldn’t be able to convince him not to take Niall to Dunoon. But love had won out after all.

  The sounds of horses and raised voices returned her attention to what had disturbed her slumber. Something was going on in the barmkin below.

  She lay back and contemplated the wood ceiling for a moment, but curiosity eventually overrode comfort. Taking a deep breath, she tossed off the warm bedcoverings, slung her bare feet over the side of the bed, and braced for the shock.

  It didn’t help.

  She jumped, letting out a little yelp as she reached for her sark and then scurried to her slippers across wood planks that were about as warm and inviting as an icy loch.

  Chilled to the bone, she dressed as quickly as she could manage with stiff, frozen fingers. When she’d finished, she grabbed a plaid from the bed, wrapped it over her shoulders, and hurried to the window. She pulled open the shutters, rubbed the fog from a pane of glass with the side of her fist, and peered down into the barmkin below.

  The first rays of dawn were just starting to break over the horizon, and a cold, misty rain cloaked the morning sky.

  For a moment, she felt entrenched in that fog as she took in the scene below. Men dressed for battle gathered around the courtyard, readying to ride out. At the head of the procession was her husband. He sat upon his great black steed, his chest plate shimmering over his yellow war coat. The jewel-encrusted hilt of the claymore slung over his back flashed like a beacon in the low light.

  Her pulse leapt as comprehension began to dawn. A minute later, her fears were confirmed when Niall and the rest of her father’s guardsmen were led out from the tower.

  She didn’t want to believe it. For a moment, she stood there in cold disbelief. Jamie had betrayed her. He was going through with it. But after what they’d shared … He’d promised … hadn’t he?

  Not wasting another second, she raced from the bedchamber, down the stairs, and across the great hall, exiting the tower keep just as the men had started to ride through the gate two abreast in a long line.

  “Wait!” she cried out.

  Jamie halted at the sound of her voice but ordered his men forward. Droplets of rain needled her face like tiny darts as she sprinted toward him. She reached the gate just as Niall was about to pass through. Heedless of the others watching, she grabbed her brother’s leg, forcing the man leading him to stop for fear of crushing her.

  “Niall …” She gazed up at her brother, tears streaming down her cheeks. The tightness in her throat made it difficult to speak. “I’m so sorry. You have to believe me, I never meant for this to happen.”

  “Let go of him, Caitrina,” Jamie ordered, his voice devoid of emotion.

  “It will be all right, Caiti,” Niall said, carefully untangling her from his leg and stirrup. He took her hand and gave it a squeeze but was forced to release it as he was led away. “Take care of Brian.”

  Tears streamed down her cheeks as she turned on her husband, who’d pulled his mount up beside her. His jaw was set in a hard line, his expression unyielding and implacable. Every inch the Campbell Enforcer.

  “How can you do this?” she cried. “I thought we had an understanding.” Emotion balled hot and prickly in her throat. “We made love.” She looked into his eyes but saw only the steely curtain of duty. “You said you loved me.”

  He held her gaze. “I thought we had an un
derstanding as well. It seems we both were in error. You confused my love for you with bending me to your will, and I confused your method of persuasion with true emotion.”

  It took her a moment to realize what he meant. Her eyes widened with shock. “You’re wrong.” She hadn’t planned it like that. She hadn’t seduced him to try to persuade him. “I wouldn’t do that.” But even as she vehemently denied the accusation, she wondered if perhaps there was an element of truth to it. She’d been desperate, searching for any straw to hold on to. Had she unconsciously relied upon his desire for her? No.

  “Wouldn’t you?” He stared at her a moment longer. “It doesn’t matter. As you see, it didn’t work.”

  She looked out past the gate at the trail of men and horses, a cloud of mud and leaves splattering behind them as they galloped toward the sea. Her gaze flickered back to Jamie, seeing the resolve and determination etched firmly on his face. Immovable.

  Her worst fears had come true. Her carefully rebuilt happiness was crashing down around her. And now she might lose her brother all over again.

  She’d trusted him, and he’d failed her.

  Rage born of helplessness took hold. She couldn’t think. All she wanted to do was stop it from happening. “I’ll never forgive you for this,” she vowed, her voice reverberating with emotion. There was only one thing left—one more gauntlet to throw down between them. “If you leave now, if you take my brother from here, I never want to see you again.”

  Almost before the words were out, she wanted them back.

  The raw emotion in his eyes burned a hole in her heart as her reckless ultimatum hung in the air between them. She wanted to think he wouldn’t be able to do it.

  But in her heart she knew he would. He’d warned her not to try to come between him and his duty again, but she’d done just that.