“Put your legs around me.” He groaned the instruction. His face fell against her neck. When he felt her move to obey him, he plunged forward. Mairead cried out in pain and he shouted in pleasure.
Her body was made for his. Tight. Hot. Silken. He never wanted this feeling of euphoria to end. He only wanted to bury himself deeper into Mairead, and for her to feel as consumed by him as he was by her. But her body needed an opportunity to adjust to his size.
With painful control, Hamish kept still and kissed her gently. “The pain will soon be gone,” he assured her, kissing away her tears, “and when it is, I promise to give you more pleasure than you have ever known.”
Mairead had thought she had been prepared for him. She had seen him. She had known he was big, and she had even known there would be pain, but she had not realized that entering her would be so excruciating. Tears formed in her eyes. She was not sure she could endure a future of this.
Hamish began to move and Mairead resisted, fearing more pain. But as he moved the ache began to dissolve into the pleasure just as he had promised. Mairead felt him opening her, stretching her, making a place for himself in the very heart of her. His size and length were no longer to be feared, but welcomed. She arched her hips causing him to fill her completely.
Fully inside her, Hamish threw his head back. His eyes were shut tightly, teeth clenched, and a sharp groan escaped his throat. Slowly, afraid to hurt her again, he eased out and back in, trying to keep himself from bucking too hard.
Now that her body was adjusting, Mairead did not want him to move slowly. Her desire was strumming and rapacious. She became insistent, impatient, and began to set her own pace.
Hamish tried to calm her with kisses and caresses. If she didn’t relax, he was going to climax before he brought her pleasure. And he had vowed she would know ecstasy the first time she lay in his arms. “Mairead, you must slow . . .”
“No, no, no . . . I can’t.” Mairead rebelled at his delay, wanting it all.
His body began to cave to her demands. Moving within her, he thrust again, increasing with speed, plunging harder, grunting with the effort. Mairead moaned long and low, digging her nails into his back, her ankles gripping his buttocks and pulling him deeper within her.
Hamish basked in the exquisite feel of her soft flesh completely surrounding him. It was even better than he had imagined. Mairead’s eyes were half closed. Her legs were around his back, drawing him in farther as he immersed himself in the feel of her soft, warm body. He leaned down and claimed her mouth.
How he had longed for this moment; he almost could not believe this was real. Moans escaped her beautiful lips. This was how it was meant to be between a husband and a wife. He finally had found what he had seen been given to McTiernay brother after McTiernay brother. He had a woman who loved him—fully and unconditionally.
Hamish caught her hips in his hands and set a faster rhythm, using hard, sure strokes that drove deeper and deeper. As his pace increased, she matched him, raising her hips to his every thrust. Then suddenly Mairead gasped and then cried out, bowing her neck back, her hands curled into tight fists. Every muscle in her clenched and unclenched in small spasms.
Her soft cries of sensual fulfillment were the most incredibly exciting sounds Hamish had ever heard. He could no longer pace himself. The small convulsions squeezed him demandingly. “Mairead!” He barely heard his own muffled, exultant shout. His body surged deeply into hers one last time and then he was erupting inside her.
Mairead clung to him. Her mind was overwhelmed with new, erotic sensations flooding her body. But she knew one thing.
Hamish was hers.
From this moment forward, he belonged to her just as surely as she belonged to him.
* * *
Hamish slumped on top of her, holding himself up by his elbows so as not to crush her. They struggled to catch their breath. Mairead’s legs were still wrapped around him, her hands rubbing his arms, his chest, and his back. He rolled to lie beside her and pulled her against him. He could not get enough of her touching him.
She nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck as their legs intertwined. “I love you,” she murmured with a sigh against his chest.
Hamish closed his eyes. “I thought about what it would be like with you every night since I first laid eyes on you. But I had no idea,” he murmured.
Mairead smiled. She had hoped for words of love, but though she received none, she had no doubt of his feelings. Hamish loved her and someday he would no longer fear saying so. Until then, she would listen to what he did.
Hamish tucked her head underneath his chin and held her close. He was close to tears and did not want Mairead to know. He finally understood what Conor had been telling him about Laurel. If something pulled him and Mairead apart, Hamish would become a shell of a man, uncaring of anything and potentially dangerous to everyone.
He had not been numb for all those months from a broken heart. It had been frustration, wounded pride, a feeling of hopelessness that had caused him to shut down emotionally. But he had never once had a broken heart. He knew that now because he had never really loved anyone before. And he loved Mairead. With all his soul. And yet it scared him to think, let alone whisper the word. Nothing good had ever come from his saying it aloud, but he silently vowed to show her his love. He would be good to her, keep her safe and make such sweet love to her that thoughts of ever leaving him would never enter her mind.
Mairead raised her hand and stroked the line of his jaw, caressing the soft growth. Her hazel eyes locked on his, a faint smile touching her mouth. “What are you thinking about?”
Hamish propped himself on an elbow and looked down at her. He did not want her to know how vulnerable he felt and bent his head to kiss her. Two small fingers stopped him. “Was it Robert?”
“Aye,” he lied, only somewhat relieved that for once she had not guessed the truth to what he was thinking.
Mairead shifted to her side and reached out to caress his dimple. “I know the reasons behind your desire to keep your army secret, but at some point we really do need to explain your plan to Robert and Selah.”
Hamish caught her hand and slowly kissed her fingers. “You still as of yet don’t know my plan.”
Mairead frowned and tugged her fingers free from his grasp. She suddenly realized he was correct. She saw several men training, most of whom looked skilled, but using them went against the bloodshed he warned her about. If he had any army, it was for a purpose beyond what she considered and she very much wanted to demand he tell her what that was. They were husband and wife.
The challenging gleam in Hamish’s eyes silenced her demands. He fully expected her to plead for an explanation. Well, she refused to. She would not give him the satisfaction. She now had the luxury of trusting Hamish and she was going to do just that.
Well, for as long as she could.
“What if Ulrick comes after them?”
Hamish twitched his lips. “He won’t.” He was going to make sure that Ulrick came after him. And Hamish looked forward to it.
“Then, is it a long-lasting solution? Will it prevent someone else from trying what Ulrick has planned?”
Hamish grimaced and fell back onto the bed. He lifted his arm and rested the back of his wrist on his forehead. “The army will give my brother the means to protect himself and Foinaven, but if he chooses to wield them poorly, then . . . no. Robert must protect this clan. Nothing I leave with him—not even an army—can do it without his leadership. And I cannot predict what he will do once we are gone.”
“Aye, you can.”
“And so can you,” Hamish replied with a note of finality, for they both knew the truth. “There are always those seeking power and it will not be long before Robert’s weaknesses are exploited.”
“You wouldn’t be exploited.”
Hamish sighed heavily. “No one is infallible. But I prefer to handle things the McTiernay way. Anyone who tried to destroy them, their reputation
or their clan, would most likely die in the attempt. Everyone knows this, so no one tries.”
Mairead bit her lower lip. “Perhaps, with the men you have gathered, no one will try against Robert.”
Hamish brushed his hand roughly over his face. “It takes more than just men, Mairead. Just as there are ways to effectively use a weapon, there are rules when dealing with those who oppose you.” Mairead tipped her head to one side, her hair falling in a slide over one shoulder. He tucked it back behind her ear and studied her expression. Her interest was earnest, prompting him to continue.
“First, never show your true emotions to your enemies. Keep them guessing about what you are thinking, and you’ll have the upper hand. Next is stability. An inconsistent leader lacks control. Anything out of control is considered weak. Therefore, when confronted, a leader needs to appear to have the situation under control, even if they don’t.”
“Is that all?” she asked, bending down to kiss his right dimple and then his left. “Just the two rules?”
Hamish caught the mischievous glow in Mairead’s eyes. She moved against him provocatively and he knew instantly that she was questioning his own ability to remain in control. He grinned at her and began speaking, implicitly accepting her dare. “When confronting an opponent, there are two more basic ones.”
Mairead leaned over and whispered, “Go on. I’m listening.” She began to nibble on his ear and he felt his exhausted body flare back to life. “One must also, uh, be aware of their surroundings and, um, remain cautious at all times. One should not feel safe”—swallow—“because those around them tell them that they are. A . . . a good strategist follows, uh, their instincts and, uh, anticipates situations and their consequences. If at all possible, one should never face an unknown.”
“Makes sense,” Mairead murmured, dipping down to kiss his chin, then shoulder and chest.
Her hands were everywhere, working their magic, soft and hypnotic, but Hamish refused to let her win. “And then, um, last,” he grunted, and then moved over her in a single fluid move. “When dealing with someone—even allies—never let them believe they are smarter or know more about what is going on.”
“Dealing with someone,” she repeated teasingly, and rose up to kiss his chin. “Does that include your wife?”
His wife. How much Hamish enjoyed hearing her say that. It was time he proved again that was exactly what she was. His. Forever. His mouth came down on hers for a long, soul-searing kiss.
When he finally freed her lips, Mairead smiled blissfully up at him. “You think like a McTiernay and not a MacBrieve.”
Hamish returned her grin with a wicked, sexy one of his own. “How would you know?” he asked, catching her wrists, holding them beside her head. “You have never met one.”
“I disagree.” Undaunted, Mairead pulled up and recaptured his mouth with her own. Hamish complied and ravished her with his lips and tongue. “Not only have I met a McTiernay,” she murmured, when he finally released her, “I married one.”
Hamish cocked his head to the side. “Perhaps. I’ve always felt more like a McTiernay than a MacBrieve. Robert is the tinker, the builder, the mason—not me.”
“And perhaps for the good of the clan that is all he should be, Hamish.”
Hamish knew what Mairead was hinting at. She wanted to stay at Foinaven. “Mairead . . .”
She put a finger to his lips. “Not to protect us. Ulrick is a short-term difficulty that I know you will address. Nor do I want you to stay as commander. But as laird, there are many clan problems you could fix. These are your people, Hamish, and they need you. Not a leader unwilling to make the hard choices.”
Hamish closed his eyes and touched his forehead to hers. She was asking him to overthrow Robert. It did not matter that it was supposed to be his. He had given it up and now had another life—a good life—with the McTiernays. “I thought you understood.”
Mairead blinked up at him. She saw his frown and his warring thoughts. She knew that it was not just loyalty, or a desire to protect Foinaven and its people, that had caused Hamish to invest so much of himself the past couple of weeks. He had an innate desire to lead his people. He just did not know how to do so without hurting his brother and her sister.
Unfortunately, neither did she.
“I love you and I will always support you.”
Hamish swallowed. The way Mairead looked at him turned his heart over, melting his every resistance. “Do not ever leave me, m’aingeal,” he said, almost choking on the words, releasing her wrist to cup her cheek.
“Never,” she vowed. “I will be with you always.”
The green and gold of her eyes swirled with passion. For a moment Hamish was held spellbound. What he felt for her was far more consuming than anything one simple word conveyed. Being with Mairead was not the sweet, longing romance he had been seeking all his life. It held much greater power. The kind that could build and destroy, that could drive a man to succeed or lead him to failure. His heart swelled with the sheer enormity of it all—of his love for her and the endless possibilities of their future together.
He lowered his head and captured her lips in a long, gradual kiss that contradicted the raging need building below his waist. Her lips met his gently, searching, seeking, and welcoming him without question and without reservation. The barriers of his control fractured and the kiss went from tender and reverent, filled with gentle emotions, to one of fierce need. He deepened their kiss and lay more of his weight on top of her. His hands memorized every inch of her as he feasted on her lush mouth.
Mairead made love to him with unrestrained enthusiasm and after they regained their strength, he once again brought her to the heavens. When he at last drifted off to sleep, listening to the rain finally begin to ease, her body was draped over his in the most gratifying way. One leg was entwined with one of his. Her arm was folded over his chest, and her head rested atop his shoulder with her dark gold hair fanned out behind her.
His last thoughts were that he had found heaven.
Chapter Fourteen
Hamish waited for Robert to speak. His brother had taken the news of his and Mairead’s union as expected, with mixed emotions. He had been pleased that Hamish and Mairead had finally “yielded and done what was right.” But he was also disappointed that they had done so alone and without witnesses. Mostly because Selah was going to be upset that there had been no ceremony, no celebration, and most of all—she had not been there. But Robert had yet to say anything about his feelings on the army Hamish had pulled together.
Robert coughed into his hand and considered his words carefully. His voice was still a little raspy, but he no longer sounded as if he were gasping for air. He was dressed, out of bed, and ready to be more active in clan affairs, but Selah had made it clear how much she hated the idea of his leaving the keep. Thankfully, he was regaining his strength quickly and would soon be able to take on all his responsibilities—including this unexpected army of Hamish’s. “We agreed there would be no bloodshed.”
“And I have no plans for any. But to appear weak to Ulrick would give you no leverage in your negotiations.”
Robert frowned and rubbed his head. “Seeing you, with all those men, might incite Ulrick into battle, not discussions. Aggression is not always the answer. A peaceful path might be the best way to achieve what we all desire. Ulrick will not fight unless he thinks he must. We must show him that is not his only option.”
Hamish hung his head and curled his fingers into fists. He could not believe what he was hearing, though he knew he shouldn’t be surprised. His brother truly thought that a display of strength was a type of weakness. Robert would rather bow and kiss the hand of the enemy in the misguided idea that it built trust and goodwill, when to men like Hamish, it just made him look weak, foolish, and ripe for attack.
“If you wanted a puppet to do your bidding then I can point you to one or two of your guard. They are more than capable of helping you with this peaceful strategy of yours
. Meanwhile, Mairead and I will say our good-byes and wish you luck.”
Robert scowled at the sharp rebuke. “Don’t threaten me, Hamish, just because I am acting like the leader you want me to be and making decisions you don’t like.”
“I don’t mean it as a threat, Robert, but a warning. I’ve been told what Ulrick said to Mairead. You may ignore the risk your decision poses to Selah and your son, but I will not stay and put my wife in danger because you refuse to accept the truth. I wish you were right and that the world did not need weapons or deadly soldiers with my skills and experience, but that is not reality. Pretending otherwise is not just unwise, but as a leader it puts innocent lives in danger. Lives beyond that of your family and you are sworn to protect them as their leader. Without the willingness to fight, the peace you seek will only result in tyranny. All because of a foolish belief that the best response to someone who clearly seeks war is placation. You claim to be these people’s leader, Robert. So lead ! At the very least, let me do what I know to do to keep them safe and defend them against Ulrick. But the plan should not begin and end with a plea for peace.”
“But neither should it discount it!” Robert argued back just as vociferously.
“Of course not!” Hamish agreed. “Negotiation and a peaceful resolution should always be the objective, but you refuse to prepare for the alternative!”
Robert’s dark green eyes locked with Hamish’s own deep green pools. Both swirled with an almost palpable intensity. “You don’t want to be just prepared, Hamish. You want to flaunt it. You want Ulrick to be well aware of the strength he faces. That blatant show of aggression is exactly what I’m against.”
“You see it as aggression, Robert, when to all others it is a display of strength. And not just enemies use perceived weaknesses against their foes—but allies, friends, and even those who you consider to be most loyal would take your peaceful stance and use it to their advantage when the time is right.” Hamish’s voice dropped dangerously low. “And it is usually those closest who inflict the most damage, because one never expects their weakness to be used against them by someone they trust.”
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