Deception of a Highlander

by Madeline Martin

  He grasped the curve of her bottom, holding her captive and he pressed his lips against the heady fragrance of her arousal. His heart raced and he plunged his tongue inside her tangy, honeyed depths.

  Heat balled in Mariel’s stomach and threaded through her body until her palms burned with it. She moaned and threw her head back in surrender to the waves of pleasure lapping against her molten core. Kieran’s finger slid inside of her, gently stretching her. Preparing her for him.

  No longer modest, she wound her hands through his hair and cradled his head against her while his merciless tongue of fire flicked against the wild pulse between her legs.

  “Kieran,” she whimpered. Warmth tingled along her feet, her hands, coiled in her belly. Her muscles tensed in preparation for her impending release.

  “Yes,” he growled against her. He strengthened his grip on her bottom and pressed her tighter to the exquisite torment of his mouth.

  Pleasure exploded around her and the focus of her world shattered into a million pieces. Delicate muscles quivered with spasm after delicious spasm, rolling in time with each wave of bliss. Her hands clutched useless fistfuls of hay.

  Kieran’s tongue dragged against her one final, breath-shuddering time before the warmth of his lips pulled away. She raised her head and found him staring at her, his eyes black with unmistakable lust.

  Her gaze dragged down his naked body where he kneeled between her legs and a whimper sounded in the back of her throat. He was glorious. His arms bulged with power and his chest and stomach were lined with it. Deep indentations trailed over either side of his hips, cut lines of sinewy muscle that traced a path to where his phallus throbbed proudly before him.

  He shifted forward, his body graceful in the low light. This time he did not tease her with the whispered touch of his body against hers. This time the sprinkling of hair on his legs and chest tickled her sensitive flesh and the weight of him settled with comfortable ease on top of her. She arched against him until the blunt edge of his arousal bumped between her legs. His back muscles went taut beneath her fingers, and he pressed forward, nudging the moisture between her legs.

  His lips brushed her ear. “Tell me if I’m hurting ye.”

  Before she was able to answer, his mouth was on hers again, the tangy taste of her mingling with the sensual spice of his tongue. He flexed his hips forward beneath her hands and the tip of him edged inside of her.

  Mariel arched helplessly against him with a moan of anticipation. The silky heat of his erection pushed again, and he inched deeper inside.

  A sharp sensation needled her and rippled the surface of her passion. An unwanted reminder of her inexperience. As though sensing her discomfort, Kieran stopped and held his body motionless over hers.

  He trailed hot kisses up her neck, the scrape of his unshaven chin grazing the hollow of her throat. His breath was warm against her ear, his breathing ragged despite his slow movements. He pushed slowly, carefully until he was completely inside of her. He stilled then, and his chest rose and fell with each deep, heavy breath.

  Mariel smiled against his neck. She knew it was for her benefit that he forced himself to stop.

  She also knew the sooner she accepted the discomfort, the sooner it would fade to pleasure. Ignoring the sting of her inexperience, she slid her hips back and nudged forward again. Kieran gave a choked groan and gripped her thighs.

  “Dinna do that…” His voice was low, dangerous.

  Mariel arched an eyebrow. “This?” She circled her bottom, and a blissful thrill jolted through her.

  A muscle leapt in his jaw. His dark eyes studied her with careful consideration, and then he began to slowly glide in and out of her. Pain tickled the edges of pleasure until it became nonexistent.

  His thrusts fell into a smooth rhythm Mariel rose to meet, each grind of their hips more exquisite than the last. His back was slick where she clung to him, his neck salty against the stroke of her tongue. She wrapped her legs around his waist and writhed against him in silent desperation for the impending release humming throughout her body.

  Desire prickled her flesh, and his eager thrust sent her to the brink. She cried out in mindless pleasure and yielded to his beautiful strength.

  A sublime wave of pleasure crashed over her and robbed her of breath. Her body squeezed against Kieran’s arousal, and a deep groan tore from his throat as his buttocks clenched beneath her hands. He grasped her shoulders and warmth rushed against her womb.

  She stared into eyes of liquid midnight, riding out the vestiges of pleasure rippling between them. His thumb brushed her cheek, and she found herself turning her face to the comfort of his palm.

  “Did I hurt ye?” Concern puckered his brow.

  She met his gaze and answered earnestly, “No.”

  He slid himself from between her legs with a shaky breath and another unexpected jolt of bliss snatched the air from her chest. He did not move off her. With her cheek still cradled in his hand, he pressed a tender kiss to her mouth.

  “Did I please ye?” he murmured against her lips.

  Did he please her? Her core still quivered from the strength of her release, and her limbs were heavy with the effects of satisfaction. Her answer came in a breathy moan as she remembered the heat of his tongue between her legs.

  He leaned back and chuckled softly. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Thunder cracked overhead and mingled with the roar of rain as it whipped against the solid cottage. A violent indication the storm still raged outside the cozy warmth of their cabin.

  “The weather willna clear for a while still.” He grinned down at her. “Looks like we’re trapped here until morning.”

  He rose to his feet and padded to where the plaids were laid by the fire to dry. He wore his nudity with unabashed pride, and rightfully so. Mariel sat upright and took her time savoring Kieran’s beauty.

  The flicker of the fire cast erotic shadows against the hard contours of his chiseled body. His long legs were strong beneath the muscular curve of his bottom. He plucked a length of plaid from the floor, his powerful back rippling with corded flesh before he turned toward her once more. Her gaze slid toward his semierect phallus, and heat spread over Mariel’s cheeks.

  He glanced down at himself and then back up at her. His eyes sparkled mischievously.

  “Did I catch ye looking at me?” He knelt beside her and covered her with the plaid.

  The fire had dried the heavy wool and left it warm. Mariel wrapped it around her back like a shawl to protect her from the prickle of hay and settled into their makeshift bed.

  “I couldn’t help myself,” she mumbled.

  He gave a low chuckle and slid in beside her. His naked arm pulled her close so her head rested on his solid chest.

  “Good answer.” The smile was evident in his silky voice.

  Exhaustion curled around her shoulders and eased throughout her body. The steady thump of Kieran’s heartbeat against her ear and their combined warmth lulled Mariel toward the comfort of sleep.

  And then a stark thought invaded her dreams, jarring her from slumber.

  She was in love with the very man she had to kill.

  • • •

  Kieran woke to the graying light of dawn and looked down at the woman who slept with her warm back pressed against his chest. He shifted his hand from her waist and brushed a wave of dark hair from her brow. Her lips curved into a gentle smile.

  Sometime in the night she had put on his leine. The front fell open, revealing the rounded edge of one perfectly shaped breast. His mouth watered with the memory of how her skin had been so wet and cold beneath his tongue after he’d removed her chemise and how quickly she’d warmed beneath his attentions.

  She had been so responsive, so eager. His cock woke at the memory of how tightly she milked him with each grind of her hips.

  Mariel shifted in her sleep, and the curve of her lush rump arched against him, cradling the thick column that rose between his legs. He groaned an
d tried to nudge away from her. He would not interrupt her sleep with the insistence of his desire.

  No woman had ever claimed his interest with as much intensity as Mariel. In the past, his passions were slaked with women eager to warm his bed, women who departed with ease the next day. Never had their leave bothered him. And yet, here lay a woman who made his chest ache with the very thought of her absence. A woman who called to him from the depths of her slumber even though he’d had her only hours before.

  Her bottom ground against him once more and a little noise of pleasure hummed in her throat. His hand rested on her hip with the intent to push her away when he saw the edge of her mouth lift into a slow smile.

  The vixen was teasing him.

  His hand cupped her fine arse, gently opening her. The little sound of pleasure whimpered into a moan. He brushed the slick center of her desire with his fingertip, and she pressed back into his hand with a readiness that left him near bursting. No further encouragement was needed, not when he was already so hard. He positioned himself against her heat and eased deep inside of her.

  They made love as the light of a new day warmed the room. Their frantic breaths and passionate cries melted into the walls, and they reached their climax together.

  Kieran gazed down at Mariel, her face cradled in his hands. Her hair was mussed from their lovemaking, her cheeks and lips flushed from it. For all the times he had seen her, she had never looked more beautiful. She had never looked more his.

  They were in their own private world, one no one else knew about, locked away in a cabin that smelled of peat, love, and roses. Her skin was silk beneath his calloused fingers, and the way she looked at him made him feel there was nothing he could not accomplish with her by his side. Never had he felt so blissfully happy, so content.

  Never had he felt more certain.

  “Mariel…” he began. Blood surged in his veins the way it did before battle.

  She lifted a perfectly shaped brow and tilted her head up at him. “Hmm?”

  He touched her soft cheek with the tip of his middle finger. Yes, this was what he wanted. Forever. “Be my wife.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Silence stretched between them and wavered Kieran’s confidence. He’d never asked a woman to marry him before, but surely her lack of response didn’t bode well for him.

  Sunlight filtered in through the heavy glass windows and streaked across her face, making her violet eyes glow with an emotion he could not name. He sat up in their makeshift bed and hay bristled against his thighs.

  He caught her cold fingers in his hand. Perhaps she had not heard him. He waited for her to rise to a sitting position before trying again.

  “Marry me, lass,” he repeated. “Be my wife.”

  A mirthless smile touched her lips. “My father is dead, Kieran. You have no one to atone to for the loss of my virginity. It held value to no one.” Her cheeks flushed. “Except to me, and I did with it what I wanted. I ask for nothing in return.”

  She thought he sought her hand through obligation. Sadness coiled around his heart at her own lack of self-regard.

  “It held value to me, but that isna why I ask.” His thumb traced the delicate line of her cheekbone. “I ask ye because of the way I feel when I’m near ye. Ye’re selfless and beautiful, and I love the way ye smile. I want ye by my side for the rest of my life.”

  Her eyes dropped to their clasped hands, and he felt her hesitation.

  “The clan likes ye,” he continued. “They will support my decision. I’m probably saying something wrong, but this is how I feel. I want this.”

  He caught her chin with his fingers and forced her to look up at him. She had to know how he felt. She had to understand the sincerity of his words. “I want ye. Marry me. Please.”

  Her teeth sank into her lower lip and that dreadful silence filled the room again.

  “Kieran, I…” Her voice faltered. “I…can’t.”

  He dropped his hands and stared at her unreadable expression. Had she not spent the night in his arms with a smile on her lips? Had she not given him her most precious gift and been glad for it?

  The heat of anger replaced disbelief. Damn it, he should have known better. There was not a shadow of a doubt in his mind that Jack had something to do with this, regardless of what she’d stated previously. If he ever met the man, he’d have him skewered at the end of his blade.

  “Is there someone else?” Kieran demanded, his voice harsh. He would be tortured by the other man no longer. Let her confess and be done with it.

  Her brow furrowed. “Of course not. Surely you don’t think I’m in love with Colin—”

  “Ye know I dinna refer to Colin.” Kieran folded his arms over his chest.

  “I told you I do not love another man. There is no one else.” Her fingers plucked at a loose string along the hem of his leine. “The reason I can’t marry you…” She shifted her gaze to her hands. “It’s because of who you are. Who I am.”

  He frowned. What the hell was that supposed to mean? “I dinna understand.”

  Her voice trembled. “You deserve a woman who deserves a man like you.” She swallowed thickly. “I do not.”

  His fingertips brushed the softness of her exposed shoulder where the leine had slipped low. She did not shrink from his touch. “I dinna like to hear ye say things like that, Mariel. Ye think too highly of me and no nearly high enough of yerself, but I promise to be a good husband to ye.”

  She tucked her chin to her chest, and her hair fell like a curtain of silk, shielding her face from his view. “You don’t know me, Kieran. You don’t know what awful things I’ve done.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Or what I will have to do. If you knew…” She shook her head and her hair rippled. “You can’t want me, not with the stain I bear upon my soul.”

  He brushed her hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. Tears stained her cheeks. “I want to know what ye’ve been through, and I want to be by yer side for whatever ye must face. There is no anything that canna be fixed. But ye have to trust me.”

  “Not even you can help me,” she whispered.

  “Talk to me, lass,” he urged. The sins she spoke of were doubtless insignificant to those of a warrior, but clearly they weighed heavy upon her. Never had he felt more desperate for someone’s confidence or more helpless to claim it.

  She searched his face for a moment and took a breath as though to speak. And then she hesitated. Her tears shimmered in the sunlight and slid down her cheeks. “I can’t,” she said miserably.

  The lack of trust wounded him far more than he would admit. But he was a MacDonald, and he was as stubborn as he was powerful. He would have her trust, no matter how long it took to gain.

  Kieran pressed his lips to the smooth skin of her cheek and let the salty anguish of her tears dissolve against his tongue.

  A hearty knock sounded at the door, booming through the intimacy of their discussion. Kieran leapt to his feet and grabbed his sword from beside the bed.

  “Who’s there?” he growled. His fingers tightened around the pommel of his blade with deadly strength.

  “Alec, Laird.”

  Kieran cursed under his breath and pulled his discarded plaid around his waist. He glanced back at where Mariel sat up in bed. “Get dressed. I’ll be back.”

  He opened the door and quickly closed it behind him in an effort to preserve Mariel’s modesty. “There had better be a damned good reason ye are here,” he snarled.

  Alec’s cold blue gaze flicked down to Kieran’s half-dressed state, and a slow smile spread over his lips. “That’s Colin’s horse in the stable. But something tells me that isna Colin in the cottage with ye.”

  “It’s none of yer concern.”

  If Alec noticed the warning in Kieran’s voice, he completely ignored it as he stroked his chin in mock thought. “If memory serves correct, a certain English lass also dinna return after the storm.”

  “Enough.” Kieran glared at him. “W
hat is it ye want?”

  The smirk stayed on Alec’s face. He reached into his sporran and pulled out a sealed parchment indicating the MacKinnon crest.

  “What is this?” Kieran grabbed the letter and cracked the thick wax seal.

  “It’s from Laird MacKinnon. The messenger said it was urgent. We knew ye were out in the storm and figured ye’d taken refuge.” He paused and gave a bawdy grin. “But when morning came and ye werena back, we thought it prudent to find ye.”

  Kieran unfolded the letter and scanned the scrawled message. His annoyance slid away. “Aye, it is good that ye did. Ready the horses. We return immediately.”

  He turned to enter the hut and one particular line echoed through his mind with blood-chilling clarity.

  Beware an English assassin.

  He knew exactly what this meant.

  • • •

  Mariel secured the final tie of her overdress as Kieran burst through the door, his face stern. “We need to leave. Now.”

  He strode to the fireplace where embers still glowed brilliant red and shoved a bit of parchment into it. The thick paper immediately browned and curled into ash.

  “Kieran?” Something was amiss. “What’s happened?” She glanced toward the smoldering embers where the parchment had been.

  He turned to her with a dangerous glint in his eye. “Are ye ready?” he asked, ignoring her question.

  “I am.” Her heart thudded in her chest.

  Gone was the understanding lover who had only minutes before asked for her hand in marriage. Kieran tugged his leine over his head and tucked it into his kilt with sharp, jerking movements. He pressed a firm hand to her back and led her out the door in an unceremonious exit from their small haven of beautiful memories.

  Alec had their horses readied and waiting. He gave her a short nod of greeting while Kieran wordlessly helped her onto the steed.

  Within minutes they were galloping toward Caisteal Camus. Kieran’s horse rode alongside Alec’s. The wind tore their murmured Gaelic across the landscape, leaving Mariel with small snatches that made little sense. And then she overheard one word that made her heart still.