His Woman (MacGruders)

by Diana Cosby

  Another man walked around the front of the wagon, several large bolts of cloth balanced on his shoulder, their combined presence all but shielding her from anyone within the courtyard. Wanting to be alone, she turned to go around the man, when the merchant caught her arm.

  Isabel whirled. “Unhand—”

  Another hand clamped over her mouth, her assailant unseen.

  Eyes wide, she tried to scream.

  “In the back with her, hurry,” the merchant ordered. “Hurry, pack up our belongings. Frasyer will pay us handsomely for Lady Isabel’s return.”

  Frasyer? They were taking her to Moncreiffe Castle! She kicked violently as she fought to break free. Her hands were jerked roughly behind her and bound. Another man caught her feet and secured them as well. In a trice, a gag was wrapped around her mouth, silencing her. Trussed up, two of the men caught her and set her among goods within the center of the wagon.

  She had to alert someone!

  “Do not fight us,” the man holding the bolts of cloth warned as he tossed the pile around her in an effective shield. “I have no qualms about beating a woman.”

  “Not that Frasyer would be caring with what he has planned for you. He has not been happy these days past,” the merchant added with a mean laugh. With a leer, he tossed a last bolt on top of her, then draped a length of cloth over her face that sprawled to the bed of the wagon.

  Darkness caved in on her. Sweat beaded her brow as she worked her fingers on the hemp to loosen her bonds.

  Confident of their success, she heard the merchant and his assistant talking as they finished packing their remaining wares around her.

  She had to break free!

  “Isabel?”

  At Duncan’s distant shout, relief washed over her. She tried screaming through her gag, but only a muffled sound escaped.

  “Climb aboard,” the merchant ordered the other man in a hiss. The wagon rocked as the two men settled in.

  “Have you seen Isabel?” Duncan asked, this time closer.

  Isabel screamed, but again her effort was smothered by the thick cloth.

  “Nay,” a man nearby replied.

  A whip snapped. The wagon jerked forward. Hooves clopped on ice and stone with a steady gait. From a small opening between the fabric, created by the sway of the wagon, Isabel caught sight of Duncan several paces away. Frantic, she twisted in an attempt to expose herself.

  The bolts of cloth kept her hidden.

  She tried to kneel, but succeeded in shifting the bolt of cloth above her only a hand’s width.

  The bolt of cloth! With all her strength, she twisted onto her back, braced her feet against the rolled cloth above her and shoved. It bounced up, rocked against a pot that clattered before the bound cloth fell on top of her.

  Refusing to give up, Isabel repositioned her feet and shoved. The bolt flew up and again a pot clattered. This time, the tinkle of glass sounded in its wake.

  “Quiet back there,” the merchant warned.

  The shadow of the gatehouse slid over the wagon.

  No! Isabel kicked the bolt with all her might. The bolt flipped up, this time angling against the bed of the wagon and not falling upon her. The pan clattered again, then fell silent.

  The darkness of the gatehouse consumed the wagon.

  She’d failed.

  “Halt the wagon!” Duncan yelled.

  The boom of Duncan’s order swept through her like a rainbow filled with hope.

  The whip snapped. The team shot forward; Isabel slammed against the bolts of cloth. As the wagon bumped across the icy terrain, Isabel shifted into a sitting position. She saw Duncan, his eyes wide with shock as he caught sight of her.

  “Guards, seize that wagon!” Duncan ordered.

  Yells of knights echoed within the stone-built tunnel. Horses screamed. The wagon slammed to a halt.

  Isabel plowed against a bolt of cloth, her breaths coming fast. Angry voices surrounded her, grunts and curses of a struggle, then the bolt of cloth above her was ripped away.

  The wagon creaked as Duncan, his face masked by pain, climbed onto the back and shoved the cloth half shielding her aside.

  “Duncan!” Her bonds smothered her words, but she didn’t care. He was here, had saved her from Frasyer’s wrath.

  “Steady now.” Relief spilled over his face as he knelt beside her and pulled her into his arms.

  She leaned against his chest, his strength, his murmured words soothing her fears. His heartbeat pounded strong in her ears as if a silent promise that he would never leave her. It was foolish to allow such thoughts into her mind, but ’twould seem when it came to Duncan, however wrong, she could think of no other.

  “Thank God you are safe,” he whispered into her hair. With a trembling sigh, Duncan began to undo the bonds.

  The worry in his expression broke her fragile control. Whether Duncan wanted to or not, he cared for her.

  Tears slid down her cheeks and she couldn’t stop her body from shaking. “I thought…”

  “You are safe now.” He tugged the last knot free, caught her shoulders, drew her back, and made a slow visual sweep of her. His fingers brushed away the tears slipping down her cheeks. “Are you hurt?”

  She rubbed her wrists, the skin red where the bonds had lain. “A touch sore is all. But you…” She glanced at the binding; fresh blood stained the cloth. “You have opened your wound.”

  “A wee bit. Nothing to concern yourself about.”

  The hard slash of footsteps closed. “Take the men to the dungeon,” Seathan’s stern voice echoed.

  “Aye, my lord,” a guard replied.

  Seathan walked into view, an ominous frown wedged upon his brow. “How fare thee?”

  “I am fine,” she replied.

  “Far from it,” Duncan said.

  “Hand her down to me,” Seathan said.

  “I can make it on my own.”

  Ignoring her comment, Duncan drew her forward. Seathan caught her by the waist and, with ease, lifted her to the ground. “Careful now.”

  Duncan jumped down, shaken at how close the merchant had come to abducting Isabel. Thank God he had followed her outside to speak with her. He took Isabel’s hand. “You will return to your chamber and rest.”

  “The men,” she said, her face pale, her words carved by fear. “They were taking me to Frasyer. I overheard that he is offering a reward for my capture.”

  Duncan shot Seathan a look. “Which confirms that Frasyer does not know where she is.”

  “And bodes well for your safety,” Seathan added. “But we will take no further risks. From this day on, until Lord Caelin is freed, you will remain inside the keep, among people I trust. I will not allow anyone else to catch sight of you here, nor stumble upon you in the bailey.”

  Her first instinct was to protest, but she remained silent. She would not be held here, except she wouldn’t tell him that. “What of my mother’s Bible? It must be found.”

  “And will be,” Duncan assured her. “Another day, two at most and I will be fit to travel, but you will remain here.” Regardless of his doubts about Isabel, his questions of her loyalty to Frasyer, he wanted her safe. He nodded toward the keep. “I will escort you inside before you freeze.”

  “I will take care of the men. They will regret they dared to enter my castle.” Seathan stormed away.

  Alexander met his older brother as he was coming from the keep. As Seathan explained the circumstance, Alexander’s eyes widened in outrage. He shot a look toward Isabel, then fell into step with Seathan. The brothers strode toward the dungeon tower with clear purpose.

  As much as Duncan longed to beat the would-be assailants within an inch of their lives, at the moment, Isabel’s well-being came first. He drew her by his side, ignoring the throb of pain from his injury. As they walked to the keep, snowflakes drifted past, wisps of innocence at odds with the turmoil of the past few moments.

  The people within the bailey nodded as they walked by. Duncan returned their
acknowledgment, his focus on Isabel and the terror she had lived through these past few moments.

  Of how he’d almost lost her.

  The irony of his thoughts plagued him. Had things truly changed between them since he’d aided her escape from Frasyer’s dungeon? She’d told him little of the circumstances surrounding her imprisonment, each bit of information pulled as if it were a throbbing tooth.

  But he couldn’t deny that he still cared for her despite his efforts not to. She’d been his friend, confidante, his future wife, his soul mate. Or so he’d believed. But still, she was precious enough to rouse those feelings anew.

  A knight held the keep door open at their approach. “Sir Duncan.”

  “My thanks.” Overwhelmed by the questions plaguing him, Duncan took Isabel’s hand as they passed through the entry. He ignored the curious looks of those within the keep and Isabel’s insistence that he release her. After almost losing her, he needed to hold her, to feel her pulse beneath his hand.

  On a shudder, she pressed her face into his shoulder.

  Moved, he silently vowed that whatever it took, he would keep her safe.

  “Isabel?”

  At Duncan’s soft whisper, Isabel slowly raised her lids. Duncan sat beside her on the bed, his face strained with worry and his gaze intent. Warmth touched her. As she had tended him, it seemed that he offered her the same. But with his mind caught up in thoughts of her betrayal, he would not be liking the comparison.

  “I fell asleep, how?” she asked, surprised after her near abduction by Frasyer’s men, she could have. Then she understood. “The tea brought to me after we arrived at the tower chamber?”

  “Aye. After your attempted abduction, you needed to rest. I asked the healer to brew the tea with something that would relax you.” On a tender smile, he drew her hand into his and laced his fingers through hers. “How do you feel?”

  Groggy, too aware of him, and her defenses dangerously weak. “I need to be out of bed.” And away from him. Tucked within the comfort of the bed and lulled by herbs designed to soothe her, it would be easy to give in to the desire-filled fantasies pouring through her mind. She set her hands at each side of the featherbed and started to push herself up.

  Duncan helped her sit, but he didn’t release her or move away.

  With their faces but inches apart, she tried not to focus on his closeness, or how he watched her with a longing that made her heart ache. How she’d prayed for him to look at her so. Now, with the moment here, she could accept nothing. With his worry for her, she doubted he realized he’d revealed the depth of his concern for her.

  Regret swept Isabel. She withdrew her hand. “My thanks.”

  Silence fell between them. The stillness seemed to invite truths—truths she could never give. She closed her eyes, inhaled, savored the soft smell of lavender, the hint of smoke from the fire, and his very male presence.

  The last thing she wanted to invite was intimacy, but it surrounded her, entangled with too many emotions she dared not identify.

  With a sigh, she looked through the crafted glass. Through the window, a wash of purples infused with gold streamed across the darkening sky. “It is sunset. I have missed the day.”

  “You needed to sleep.”

  “And I have.” Isabel shifted from the bed to stand. Her gown, rumpled from her hours of rest, clung to her. Heat stroked her cheeks as she caught Duncan’s eyes lingering upon her shear gown, the swells of her breasts under the delicate fabric. Beneath his heated gaze, warmth slid through her, and her nipples hardened.

  He stood.

  Nerves danced upon her skin like faerie’s wings. “I…I need to be alone.” Her request fell out in a rough whisper, one filled with the longing she fought to shield. She turned away, the shudders coursing over her body having nothing to do with the icy winds outside.

  He stepped closer.

  “Duncan?”

  “Aye?”

  His breath feathered over her neck with forbidden softness. He could not stay. “You should leave.”

  “Should I?” He touched her shoulder; she stiffened. With aching slowness, he skimmed his hand along the collar of her neck, pausing at her throat to run his thumb up, then slowly down the soft column.

  Isabel swallowed, fought the desire storming her, the heat blanketing her until she struggled to remember why this intimacy was wrong.

  Duncan turned her to face him. He pressed his index finger over her lips. “This day, you were almost lost to me.” He paused, his face taut with pain, with the struggle that assured her that he fought his own battles when it came to her.

  “Once you were safe, asleep from the healer’s herbs, I left you under the watch of a trusted servant. I assured myself it was best if I stayed away from you.”

  He looked away, his gaze sliding over the faeries upon the ceiling, then gave a rough laugh. “I tried. I battled with myself for hours in an attempt to put you from my mind. But since the day our lives again crossed, regardless of my attempt to ban all thoughts of you, my mind betrays me. Even as I sent the maid away from your chamber moments ago with assurances that I would keep watch over you this night, I knew coming to you was dangerous. Yet…here I am.” He swallowed hard. “Tell me that you do not want my touch, to know the depth of what exists between us?”

  Aching with need, Isabel opened her mouth to deny him. Silence fell between them. Trembling, she closed her mouth and turned away.

  He caught her chin and gently turned her face toward him. “Look at me.”

  Tears of frustration blurred her eyes as she complied. How she loved Duncan, wanted him with her every breath. “You know not what you ask of me.”

  “I do.” He brushed his thumb across her cheek. “Too well.” With a groan he skimmed his mouth across her brow, along the angle of cheek, then his tongue toyed with the soft curve of her ear. “Bedamned with the reasons this is wrong. Tell me that you do not want me.”

  Isabel’s pulse raced, heat flushed her body until it ravaged her with destroying heat. She tried to reply, to deny him what she ached for with every fiber.

  And couldn’t.

  Chapter 11

  Duncan laced Isabel’s fingers through his own. “Tell me that you do not want me,” he repeated.

  The air, drenched with moonlight, laden with unspoken desire, seemed to ignite between them, a heat so raw, so intense that her body pulsed with unspent energy. However wrong, she could not deny him.

  Slowly, as if she’d spoken her deepest desires, Duncan freed his fingers from hers and his hands began a sensuous journey up her arms. Her skin tingled along his path, his every touch warming her blood into a dangerous heat. His hands rounded her shoulders and then edged upward to pause at the sensitive curve of her chin.

  He angled her head toward his, drew her forward until the curve of his mouth shadowed her own. “Say you want me.”

  His husky burr rippled through her with a wanton thrill, her senses blurred with her need for him. “Duncan, I…”

  “Say it.”

  She fought to remain silent, but his touch, her wanting his love, broke through all her well-placed barriers. “Damn you, I want you.”

  Satisfaction flashed in his eyes.

  “But your injuries—”

  “My injuries be damned.” His mouth captured hers, hot, hard, demanding everything and more. She succumbed to his touch, to his taste, to the man she’d wanted forever.

  Beneath his skilled mouth, her body began to tremble, her mind tangled into a daze of sensual bliss until she was lost to everything but him. To his male taste, a blend of gentle and demanding. When Isabel thought she couldn’t feel more, Duncan angled his head and proved her wrong.

  Her entire body vibrated beneath his wondrous assault. The reasons why she’d resisted Duncan fell away to euphoria.

  This moment was theirs.

  Now.

  Forever.

  Isabel pressed her body flush against his, appreciating his every muscle, the gentle stre
ngth with which he held her, the controlled power of his touch. Memories of their youthful passion hadn’t prepared her for the desires of the man, but she savored the learning.

  Firelight illuminated Duncan’s body as his hands caressed her cheek, sliding to tease the curve of her ear, along the silken edge of her jaw, and all the places she’d not known could make her feel so wonderful.

  Joy swept through her at his rumble of pleasure, of how his body hardened against hers. This was the moment she’d sought, a moment she’d never dreamed to experience.

  Until now.

  Lost to her own desire, the brush of cool air upon her sensitized skin had her opening her eyes in surprise to find him watching her, his gaze scalding.

  “I need to touch all of you.” Duncan leaned back as he spoke, watching her as he untied the next knot.

  Her gown fell open, exposing her fully to his view. The shame she should feel at her wanton desire never came. Satisfaction filled her instead.

  Green eyes held hers with reverence as the pads of his fingers eased across the swell of her breast to linger. They dipped and teased, making her knees tremble until she believed they’d give way. Still holding her gaze, he leaned down and caught one tip within his mouth, toyed, teased her with his tongue until she moaned from the sheer pleasure of it.

  Never had she known it would feel this amazing to be with a man, his touch a dangerous heat that ravaged her soul. No, not any man.

  “Duncan.”

  Isabel’s voice, thick with desire, poured through Duncan with a scorching heat. With his body an inferno, he claimed her mouth and savored one more long, drugging kiss, then he drew back and looked his fill. Her lips were slick, swollen with his kisses, her eyes glazed with passion, and her nipples taut beckoning his touch. In the moonlight, she looked like a rumpled faerie who’d lost her way.

  A faerie who this night would be his.

  His body demanded he take her, and he would, but he would see to her pleasure first, taste her in all the ways he’d only imagined.

  Helpless to touch, to savor what for so long had been denied, he trailed his hands along the soft curve of her breasts until he cupped their full weight, then he gently squeezed her nipples.