“Raith!” she cried again, clutching at him, frantically arching her hips upward, trying to keep him from leaving her.
“God…Katrine…don’t....” The words were wrenched from his throat as he reached down to grasp her bare hip with one hand. “Be still…or I can’t…”
He never finished his plea, for her lips were seeking his feverishly. Silently Raith swore. He had meant to be gentle, but all her responses cried out against gentleness. He had wanted to go slowly, to explore with leisure and savor every incredible moment of loving her, but she was hot and excited and oblivious to anything save his passion.
With a groan of long denial and depleted restraint, Raith fitted his mouth over hers, plunging his tongue hungrily into her mouth as he buried his rigid fullness more deeply into her body. The hard sensual thrust was all it took to ignite her completely. With a gasping sob, Katrine surged against him.
Raith felt a twinge of pain in his scalp as her fingers gripped his hair, but it mattered not at all. He heard her sobbing breaths of pleasure with satisfaction as he felt himself aroused and absorbed by her in a way that stunned him. She was a wild sweetness in his soul, a dark fire burning in his blood. He felt the exquisite shuddering of her body an instant before he himself went violently out of control.
Incoherently he called upon a deity as his lean, powerful body clenched in turbulent convulsions that matched her frenzy, and then he cried her name. Yet the only thought he could summon as he poured himself into her, as he possessed her body and heart and soul, was simply amazement that need and desire and joy could merge and become one. And then all thought fled as the hard racking tremors of pleasure caught him in a swirling maelstrom of feeling.
Night had fallen totally by the time their passion was spent and the shuddering of their damp bodies subsided. As Katrine slowly came to her senses, she became aware of her surroundings…the desperate way she still clung to Raith, the cohesion of their hot moist skin, the mingling of ragged breaths and pulses, the crushing pressure of Raith’s powerful arms as they wrapped around her, the heaviness of his sleek body, the throbbing between her thighs where they were still joined so intimately. Yet she didn’t mind the discomfort. She was too busy wondering and marveling at the shattering ecstasy she had just experienced.
She had never realized such a sensation as that existed, where desire was a brilliant heated glory, a hurtling sense of pleasure. She felt cleansed by fire, by the heat of the sun, yet at the same time, complete. Loving Raith had satisfied all the longings she had held in the secret places in her heart. The restlessness of spirit she had known the past few weeks had vanished, to be replaced by a serene joy, a certainty that she and Raith belonged together, belonged to each other, despite their differences.
When Raith shifted slightly in her arms, Katrine gave a murmur of protest and clung more tightly. But he didn’t leave her, merely resettled his body to relieve her of some of his weight. Katrine sighed with gratitude and pleasure. Languid and replete, she lay against him, thinking of the man she loved. He was a bold leader, a man of purpose, brave and daring, yet kind. Raith was someone she could look up to, whose verbal sharpness was a match for her own. She imagined telling her sisters, this is the one, this is my soul mate, the man I want to marry. The man whose children I want to bear. Whose life and joys and burdens I want to share. She had found him in the Highlands, just as she had hoped.
She sighed again as she felt Raith’s lips press against her temple. “Are you all right?” His voice, low and husky and concerned, penetrated her reverie.
“Mmm,” Katrine murmured. A moment later she elaborated. “I’ve never…never felt so right.”
His head lifted. In the darkness she could feel Raith’s gaze searching her face, but before she could even open her eyes, his lips fused with hers in a gentle bonding. The unbelievable tenderness of his kiss made her breath cease, and kept her thoughts occupied as Raith untangled their entwined limbs and slowly eased his body from hers.
“Where are you going?” The question, asked with an edge of alarm, was startled from Katrine when Raith rose from the pallet.
“Nowhere,” he soothed. “I’m not leaving.”
She heard him moving around the small chamber, then heard the striking of a flint in the tinderbox as he lit a candle. Katrine blinked in the sudden glow, then caught her breath as the flame illuminated Raith’s beautiful, hard, exciting body, etching and defining rippling sinews and male nudity. He looked starkly masculine in the amber light, with a lock of tousled midnight hair falling recklessly over his forehead…a ruthless brigand who had stolen her heart.
But no brigand would have shown such consideration as he had shown her, Katrine thought, remembering his restraint as she watched Raith pour water from the ewer into the washbasin. She was surprised and startled when he carried the basin and a cloth over to her pallet and went down on his knees beside her. Katrine raised a questioning gaze to him, but his expression was as enigmatic as his blue eyes as he used the damp cloth on her thighs to wash away the evidence of their passion and her innocence.
Katrine wasn’t sure whether she was embarrassed more by the intimacy of his action, or by the casual way Raith displayed his naked body; both sent flaming color rushing to her cheeks. And she could tell, before she averted her gaze, by the faint quirk at the corner of his mouth that he was aware of her embarrassment.
Raith might have commented on her lack of composure, but he only murmured, “Be still,” when Katrine shifted self-consciously beneath his ministrations. He finished his task in silence, while he struggled with his own warring emotions.
He hadn’t meant it to go so far. He hadn’t meant even to touch her, let alone allow his passion to flare so out of control. He had intended simply to lock her in her bedchamber for the remainder of the evening and talk to her in the morning, when his temper was cooler.
That had been the plan, but like every other plan having to do with Katrine, this one had failed, too. Yet if he had allowed himself to consider it, he would have known their mating was only the natural conclusion to the weeks of frustration. And for the moment he couldn’t regret it. Not for the moment. Just now he felt alive in a way he hadn’t felt since…since the carefree days of his youth. Alive and reckless, with the blood singing in his veins and an eager desire still throbbing through his senses.
Yet guilt nagged at his conscience as well, and dismay at the thought that he might have planted his seed within her. As he gently removed the last traces of virginal stains from Katrine’s satin-smooth skin, Raith found himself gazing at the juncture of her slender thighs, sparing scarcely a thought for the rapture he had known there as he clinically studied the width of her hips, measuring the distance. Was she capable of bearing children? Or would she, too, experience the agony of her body being ripped asunder by a stillborn son, the tragedy of having her life drained away by fever?
But it was too late now to worry about the consequences of their lovemaking. With effort, Raith forced away his morbid thoughts. Setting aside the cloth and basin, he stretched out beside her on the pallet and gathered Katrine into his arms. He felt a burning need to shelter her, to protect her from the world and from himself, but right now, he wanted simply to hold her, to savor the peace between them, the first he’d had in weeks with this troublesome, quarrelsome lass. And strangely, he wanted to reassure her. He could tell from the way she had buried her nose in his chest to hide her blushes that she was feeling shy. Repressing a smile, Raith stroked the wonderful fire of her hair. He would never have suspected this hot-tempered Campbell of being bashful or uncertain.
“There’s no need for shame,” he said quietly. “What happened between us was—” he paused, searching for the appropriate word “—natural.” And it was, Raith thought. Making love to Katrine had been as natural as breathing.
He must have struck the right note, for she found her courage again and drew back slightly to gaze up at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t know what to do…how to please you—�
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“You pleased me very well,” Raith said quickly. “I’ve never—” He broke off suddenly. There was no point in telling her that he’d never experienced such a shattering feeling as he had making love to her. After tonight it would never happen again. He wouldn’t allow it.
“A man prizes innocence in a lass,” Raith said instead. “But you should have saved it for your husband.”
Katrine fell silent. Just now didn’t seem the appropriate moment to confess that she already thought of Raith as her husband. He obviously wasn’t ready to hear it. And she would need time to consider just how to persuade him to her way of thinking.
“I’m to blame for letting this happen,” Raith continued in a low tone. “I should have had more control.” After a moment he gave a ghost of a chuckle. “I can’t even remember what we were fighting about…just that you made me furious as usual.”
“I don’t mean to make you furious.”
“No? I suppose that comes naturally to you as well. At least I’ve discovered a way to still your sharp tongue. But I can’t end every argument with you by tumbling you into bed.”
“Why not?” Katrine asked softly.
He laughed again, just as softly, but there was a grimness to his tone that chilled her. “A dozen reasons, but a thing called honor is probably the chief one.”
“Why can’t you pretend to be a mere cattle thief instead of a laird? Then you wouldn’t have to be concerned with honor.”
Sighing, Raith closed his eyes, bringing a forearm up to rest on his forehead. As he shifted his weight, though, a piece of straw ticking stabbed his back, making him flinch. “Callum mentioned that a pallet isn’t what you’re accustomed to sleeping on. Tomorrow you’ll move downstairs into one of the spare bedchambers. You can use it until you leave here.”
It was a concession, Katrine knew. He was willing now to accord her the same hospitality as a guest in his home. The trouble was that she didn’t want to leave. Not ever. And she wanted to be much more than a guest to him.
“Raith?” she said, gathering her courage. “I think I should tell you why I locked myself in the buttery. You see, I was tired of waiting for something to happen regarding my ransom, and I thought—”
“I don’t want to talk about this now.”
“But I need to tell you this. I wanted to force you to contact my uncle—”
“Katrine, we’ll discuss it tomorrow. In the morning you can lock yourself in a decent bedchamber and stay there as long as you like.”
At his brusque dismissal, her expression turned mutinous. “I think I’d prefer a dungeon. At least then you would have to treat me as a prisoner of war instead of a…a troublesome inconvenience.”
He refrained from commenting dryly that that was precisely what she was. “If I had a dungeon, I wouldn’t be so daft as to confine you there. You’d garner too much sympathy from my clan.”
“And I’d deserve it, too!”
Raith raised himself on one elbow. “Katrine, this isn’t the time to be arguing.”
“Why not?”
He looked down at her, at her tangled hair and fiery eyes and soft vulnerable mouth, and his hunger flared again. Once more, Raith thought with a feeling akin to despair. The risk would be no greater if he were to make love to her one more time.
“Because, my sweet shrew,” he murmured, bending closer, “we have far more pleasant things to do.”
“Raith, I still think you—”
“Will you be quiet?”
His hand slid under her hair, curving around the nape of her neck. His warm breath caressed her face as he pressed a series of light kisses across the ridge of her cheekbone and then lower, along the side of her jaw.
Katrine immediately fell silent, her own breath trapped in her throat. Then Raith took her mouth, his lips savoring hers with a slow fevered urgency, transforming hostility into subtle sensuality, while his body pressed her down, giving her a tantalizing awareness of his hardened maleness.
His embrace left Katrine weak and wanting and melting. It no longer mattered that nothing had been settled between them, or that Raith didn’t know how she felt about him. It only mattered that he was here, loving her physically, if not with his heart. She was certain that someday his heart would follow.
Without shame, she wrapped her arms around his neck, straining closer. “Show me, Raith,” she murmured against his lips, “show me how to love you....”
One last time, he thought distractedly. Only once, and then never again…But he left the thought incomplete as he gave himself over to the desire that was sweeping through him with savage heat.
But later, when their passion was spent, when Katrine lay sleeping quietly in his arms, exhausted from their slow but fierce loving, Raith lay awake, staring at the sloping ceiling, watching the dancing shadows made by the sputtering candle flame.
He should never have allowed their relationship to come to such a pass, should never have enmeshed Katrine further in a dilemma that could have no happy solution. But he wouldn’t touch her again. If he had to leave his own home, he would. Indeed, perhaps that was the only way. Only by distancing himself from Katrine would he have any real control again. And he needed control, needed to regain the upper hand where she was concerned. For the sake of his sanity. For the sake of his clan.
Slowly, so as not to disturb her, Raith turned his head on the pillow, gazing down at his stubborn, thorny, independent hostage. Watching her, Raith felt a tightness in his chest, an unwanted emotion stirring in him. She appeared so innocent when she was asleep. Innocent and totally at peace. Not at all like the sharp-tongued vixen who had turned his life upside down.
Just now she looked sated and flushed with lovemaking, yet with a radiant glow that was all her own. So lovely it made his heart and body ache…
His gaze fell to her mouth, soft and dewy and bruised red from his kisses. How could he still want her so?
Involuntarily Raith reached up to touch her cheek, but as he did so his hand became entangled with her tumble of curls. Silently he stared at a fiery lock that clung to his finger like an eager lover. With thumb and forefinger, he held it for a moment, rubbing it tenderly. Then deliberately he let it drop.
If he was ever to regain the ability to reason, he had to begin now. And that meant not giving in to the urge to touch her, to kiss her until she was sobbing breathlessly against him.
No, he couldn’t allow it to happen again.
No, never again.
Chapter Thirteen
It was near dawn when Raith relinquished the warmth of her sleeping form. Slipping from beneath the blanket, he dressed quietly and went to the window, going down on one knee to avoid hitting the sloping ceiling. As gray light filled the small chamber, he made a concerted attempt to remember his resolution. Yet he couldn’t banish the haunting memories of the night he’d just spent with Katrine. His mind overflowed with thoughts of the feel of her against him, of the exquisite way her body surrounded him, of her eager passion, her fiery hunger.
Swearing silently, Raith braced his forearm against the window frame and rested his forehead against it. Only by shutting out every reminiscence of their fierce, soul-satisfying lovemaking, only by making himself remember the reason Katrine was here, only by forcing himself to recall how he had betrayed his clan and his clan’s hatreds by succumbing to his untenable, insupportable attraction for a Campbell, only by reflecting on what was at stake in this feud, was he able to renew his resolve.
Behind him on the pallet, Katrine stirred. As she slowly came awake, she winced at the unfamiliar ache between her thighs. Then she remembered the cause and experienced a momentary twinge of alarm. But he hadn’t left her, she saw when she glanced around. Raith had his back to her, in a defensive pose that was strangely solitary, like a man praying for strength before he went into battle.
Hesitantly Katrine raised herself on one elbow, clutching the blanket to her naked breasts as she pushed her unruly hair from her face. “Raith?”
“I meant what I said last night,” he said in a low voice, “about moving you to another bedchamber. Flora can tell you which one. You can remain there as long as you like. That is, if you want to disappoint Meggie. I promised her you would resume her lessons today. It would be kind of you to continue tutoring her until you leave.”
He was using Meggie again for his own ends, Katrine realized absently, but that didn’t seem important just now. What was important was Raith’s certainty that she would be leaving. Katrine took a deep breath, knowing the time had come to make him listen to her.
“I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here…with you.”
“That isn’t possible.” His answer was immediate and curt, and so adamant that it stung.
“Why not? Because you don’t want me?”
“Not want you?” The dark flash she saw in his eyes before he turned his head away might have been torment. “What I want carries little weight in the matter. If your uncle manages to persuade Argyll to deal fairly with my clan, you’ll be returned to him, safe and sound…if a bit worse for wear.”
The grimness of his tone didn’t quite cover the resonance of an underlying emotion, an emotion that at the very least was turmoil, but was more likely pain, Katrine suspected. She was surprised by the fierceness of her need to take away whatever was hurting him so.
“I love you,” she said then, quietly, her voice soft but her words clear.
TENDER FEUD Page 23