by Connie Mason
She was warm and soft and oh, so tempting. And she smelled heavenly. His arm stole around her waist, and he pulled her into the curve of his body. She sighed but didn’t open her eyes. Would she be angry if he awakened her? he wondered. He wanted her. Ross didn’t understand his constant need for his reluctant bride. Even though she reviled him and considered him an enemy, her response to his lovemaking was anything but reserved.
Gillian was an enthusiastic lover, a fact Ross thoroughly appreciated and very much enjoyed. Though she claimed to prefer Angus Sinclair, she wasn’t a wee bit reticent about responding to him. The woman was an enigma, one Ross hadn’t been able to figure out yet. Of course, he hadn’t helped his cause by jumping to conclusions about her kinsmen. The raid was another puzzling, potentially disastrous situation, one he hoped to solve before his clansmen clamored for the feud to resume.
The feel of Gillian resting warm and supple in his arms distracted Ross’s thoughts, making him painfully aware of his erection. He inched closer to her, felt himself lengthen and thicken, and pressed the head of his engorged cock into the hot crevice between her thighs.
Ross tried to sleep, but his body was too tense, too needy. Still, he resisted waking her. But naught could stop him from exploring her lush curves, inhaling the arousing scent of her. His hand settled on her knee, and then moved upward, over the smooth expanse of her thigh and the gentle curve of her hip.
Though Ross knew he should stop, he couldn’t. His wandering hand found her breast. He cupped it, toying with her nipple. He smiled when he felt the tip harden and elongate. He squeezed gently. Did she realize she was responding to his touch without conscious knowledge?
A soft gasp warned Ross that Gillian had awakened.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re awake.”
“I am now. Go to sleep. Mayhap you’re not as tired as I am.”
He flexed his hips, his erection probing relentlessly against the soft hollow between her thighs. “I want you, lass.”
“Nay, MacKenna, I am angry with you. I want naught to do with you.”
“I doona believe you.”
He turned her on her back so he could reach her mouth. Then he kissed her. At first her lips remained tightly closed, hard and unyielding. He probed them gently with his tongue, then more firmly, until they parted beneath his. Groaning, he entered the warm cavern, tasting her sweetness even as he knew that her mind had yet to accept him.
“Surrender, Gillian,” Ross whispered against her lips. “Your flame burns brightly; only I can douse the fire smoldering inside you. I will chase the flame until you yield.”
Gillian said naught as he kissed a burning path along her cheekbone, down her slender throat to her breast, where her nipple begged for his attention. He heard her moan when he took the tender morsel into his mouth and suckled. She arched the fluid curve of her back, panting softly.
“Do you yield to me, love?”
“I... am ... not... your... love.”
Her actions denied her words as her arms crept around him, pulling him closer. She rose against him, pressing her breast more firmly into his mouth. Pleased with her response, Ross alternated between one breast and the other, suckling her nipples into hard points. When she began writhing beneath him, his mouth left her breasts, kissing a trail of fire down her taut stomach to the patch of fiery hair at the juncture of her thighs.
“Ross.”
Though his name was no more than a sigh on her lips, Ross accepted it as her surrender.
“Aye, love, I ken what you want.”
He parted her tender nether lips with his fingers; she was hot and slick, and they slid inside on a cushion of honeyed dew. He moved them in and out until he felt her body grow taut, felt the tension coil inside her, felt her headlong rush to completion. She cried out in protest when he withdrew his fingers, then sighed with pleasure when he placed his mouth where his fingers had been.
He aroused her slowly, adeptly, his tongue teasing then darting inside, only to retreat and begin anew. She grasped his head between her hands, holding him in place while he continued his sweet torture. When he felt her start to shatter, he crawled up her body and shoved his aching cock inside her, burying himself deep as she spasmed around him.
Then he began to thrust in and out, faster, harder, deeper. The firestorm within her reignited, intensified; he heard her moan, felt her slick passage clench around him, stirring him to greater heights. He exploded in a rush of hot seed as she climaxed a second time. A long while passed before Ross could breathe, let alone move. Gillian must have felt trapped beneath his weight, for he felt her push against his chest. Only then did he summon the energy to lift himself off her.
Gillian rolled away from Ross, too disgusted with her easy surrender to face him. He had but to touch her and she yielded. Had she no pride? How could her body betray her when her mind rejected him utterly? He had shamed her before his clansmen, who distrusted and disliked her because she was a MacKay.
He touched her arm. “Gillian, are you all right?”
“Aye. Are you happy now that you got what you wanted?”
“I made us both happy. Go to sleep, lass.”
“Not yet, MacKenna. Tell me what happened below-stairs. Are your kinsmen still angry at me?”
“I spoke with them. They ken that your kinsmen are nae to blame for the raid. I suspect you will find them more respectful than they have been in the past.”
She rose up on her elbow. “What about Seana? Did you send her away?”
A log in the grate sparked, briefly illuminating his face. His frown told her what she wanted to know. “I canna believe you let her stay,” Gillian scolded. “Unless” —she bit her bottom lip—“you intend to bed her yourself. I willna stand for it, MacKenna. You have shamed me enough.”
She started to leave the bed, but Ross stopped her by wrapping his arms around her. “Och, lass, I doona want Seana. She is handfasted to Niall. I couldna turn them both out.”
“I heard naught of a handfasting.”
“It happened when I returned to the hall. I asked Niall to escort Seana to her father’s keep. He asked permission to handfast with her instead.”
“You shouldna have allowed it. Seana is a troublemaker. She still wants you. Think you handfasting with Niall will keep her happy and out of trouble?”
“Niall is a braw lad, capable of controlling his woman. Now go to sleep. Tomorrow we will prepare for our return to Braeburn to attend your brother’s wedding.”
A large group of MacKennas left Ravenscraig two days later shortly after daybreak. A small number of men were left behind to defend the tower against attack, though in truth none was expected. Gillian and Ross rode at the head of the contingent, which included Gordo, Niall, and Seana.
They arrived at Braeburn a few hours later, in time to join a prewedding celebration. Even amid the air of jubilation, Ross felt a stirring of disquiet, as if something unexpected was about to happen. He prowled the hall but could find naught amiss. He raised a tankard of ale with a group of MacKays, impressed with their friendliness and camaraderie. This wouldn’t be possible if the clans were still feuding.
Ross caught sight of Gillian across the crowded hall, talking and laughing with a group of her kinswomen. Naught seemed amiss there. He spied Gordo and made his way to him, stopping along the way to congratulate Murdoc on his upcoming nuptials.
“What think you, Uncle?” Ross asked when he reached Gordo.
“ ’Tis a fine gathering of former enemies,” Gordo said dryly. He slanted a glance at his nephew. “What’s amiss?You look troubled.”
“I doona know, Gordo. I canna put my finger on it. All seems well, but I amna convinced. Have you seen a Sinclair in the crowd?”
Gordo glanced slowly about the hall, trying to identify the different plaids. “Nay, I see no Sinclairs, but that doesna mean they are nae here.”
Tearlach MacKay strode up and clapped Ross on the back. “I see you’ve succeeded in makin
g peace with my daughter, son-in-law.”
“It wasna easy,” Ross admitted. “Gillian’s temper is a fearsome thing.”
Tearlach chuckled. “That it is. ’Tis glad I am to see you both. Bringing our clansmen together like this will go a long way to ensure peace between future generations. I want Murdoc’s bairns to live without fear. I ken not all Highland clans feel the same, but mayhap a lasting peace between the MacKays and MacKennas will inspire others to follow our example.”
Ross nodded agreement. “Are all your allies expected to attend the celebration?”
“Aye.”
“What about the Sinclairs? I doona see any of them in the hall.”
“Angus sent word that he and his clansmen would arrive in time for the ceremony tomorrow.”
When Ross merely grunted, Tearlach moved on.
Gordo searched Ross’s face for several heartbeats before asking, “What are you thinking, lad?”
“I doona trust Sinclair. If he doesna show up tomorrow, I’m thinking we should head back to Ravenscraig instead of lingering here to celebrate, as we originally planned.”
“Whatever you decide is fine with me, Ross. I learned long ago to trust your judgment.”
As it happened, Angus Sinclair arrived with a small group of his kinsmen the following morning, well before the ceremony was to begin. Ross was standing beside Gillian as he watched Sinclair wade into the crowd before being swallowed up by the solid mass of humanity waiting to proceed to the kirk.
“I need a heavier shawl,” Gillian remarked as a blast of cold air rolled in through the open door. “Wait here, Ross. I willna be long.”
Ross wasn’t going anywhere. He was too intent on keeping an eye on Sinclair, though he had no idea where the man had disappeared to. “Hurry,” Ross said. “The procession to the kirk is about to begin.”
“Go on without me if I’m not back,” Gillian said. “I’ll join you at the kirk.”
Gillian hurried off to her chamber. She found her heavy plaid shawl where she had left it and exchanged it for the lighter-weight one she was wearing. When she heard the door open and shut behind her, she smiled and turned, expecting to see an impatient Ross.
“Angus! What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you. When I saw you go up to your chamber, I followed.”
More than a little angry, Gillian snapped, “Make it fast, Angus. Ross is waiting for me.”
“He left for the kirk with the others. We are quite alone.”
A frisson of apprehension slid down her spine. “This isna right. We shouldna be alone in my bedchamber. You can tell me what you wish to say on the way to the kirk.” She reached for the door latch.
Angus was there before her. “Are you happy, Gillian?”
“Happy enough,” Gillian admitted. “What is this about?”
“We cared for each other, lass. “Twas me you wanted to wed; me you should have wed.”
“We canna change what happened, Angus. I am wed to Ross now; there is naught either of us can do about it.”
“You’re wrong, Gillian. There is a great deal I can do about it. You can come with me now. According to the agreement between your father and MacKenna, if you leave your husband, the feud will resume.”
“I doona ken why you wish to sabotage the truce.”
“And I doona ken why you wish to live with the enemy. I am willing to have you even if MacKenna had you first.”
“I canna do it, Angus. ’Tis true I wanted to wed you; why did you nae speak up sooner? Now I have spoken my vows. I am legally joined to Ross; naught will change that.”
“How can you give your body to the enemy? How can you endure the shame?”
Ross’s lovemaking wasn’t difficult to endure, Gillian thought, smiling inwardly. It was pure magic. As for shame, if her father and brothers felt no shame dealing with Ross MacKenna, then why should she? Besides, she had begun to realize there was more to Ross than his mighty sword arm and skill as a warrior. It was difficult to think of Ross as an enemy when he had been inside her body, giving her more pleasure than she could bear.
“There is no shame to be had in the marriage bed,” Gillian maintained.
“Do you enjoy kissing the MacKenna, Gillian?”
Gillian merely stared at him.
“Let me show you how a real man kisses.”
Though Gillian knew what Angus intended, she was unarmed and defenseless. Snagging her around the waist, he dragged her against him and claimed her mouth with ruthless determination. His lips were demanding, hard, nearly painfully so. He backed her toward the bed. She resisted; he persisted. His tongue demanded entrance to her mouth, but she stubbornly refused to open.
The back of her knees hit the edge of the bed. She went down heavily, taking all of his weight as he followed her down. She felt him tugging her skirts upward and pounded him on the back. When she opened her mouth to scream, he thrust his tongue down her throat. She retaliated by clamping down hard with her teeth. He jerked back and cursed.
“Give over, Gillian. You know you want me.”
She pushed against him. “Why are you doing this, Angus?”
Both looked up when the door burst open. “What in the hell is going on here?” Ross snarled.
Angus leaped to his feet. “It should be obvious, MacKenna. Gillian and I arranged this meeting. She doesna want you. ’Twas always me she wanted.”
Gillian scooted off the bed, so angry with Angus she wanted to take up her sword and run him through. Then she looked into Ross’s face and lost the ability to speak. She had never seen him like this. The stark planes of his face were rigid with rage, his hands clenched into fists, his eyes cold and flat.
“Ross ... I—”
“What do you have to say for yourself, Gillian?” Ross asked through clenched teeth.
“I didna invite Angus to my chamber.”
Ross skewered Sinclair with a look that would have felled a man with a conscience. “Is what Gillian said true, Sinclair?”
“Gillian never wanted to wed you, MacKenna,” Sinclair confided. “She and I had an understanding. I would have wed her had you not interfered. She invited me up here. I could deny her naught.”
“You lie!” Gillian cried. “Doona believe him, Ross.”
“Get out!” Ross ordered, pointing Sinclair toward the door.
Once they were alone, Gillian said, “He is lying, Ross; I swear it.”
Gillian shivered beneath his cool regard. “We will discuss this later, Gillian. We’re late. We must leave for the kirk immediately.” He found her plaid, wrapped it about her shoulders, and escorted her from the chamber.
Tearlach was waiting for them at the kirk. “Where have you been?” he admonished. “We held the ceremony for you.”
“We were unavoidably detained,” Ross explained as he guided Gillian to the pew reserved for family.
Gillian was quick to note that Angus was sitting in the kirk with other members of his clan. Moments later Murdoc’s bonny bride appeared and the wedding commenced. Ross remained blessedly mute, though his expression was no less fierce. Did he really believe she had invited Angus to her chamber?
The ceremony was brief but meaningful. Gillian shed tears of happiness for Murdoc. For the first time since the truce, she realized how much peace meant to her family. Because of the constant fighting, her brothers had deliberately refrained from taking brides, lest they be killed in one of the frequent battles with the MacKennas and leave their wives widows. Now, mayhap Ramsey and Nab would consider marrying and settling down, too.
The celebration continued in Braeburn’s great hall. After a meal that seemed to drag on forever, the tables were cleared so dancing could begin.
Ross had never felt jealousy before and scarcely recognized his reaction to the scene in Gillian’s bedroom. He had always known that she preferred Angus Sinclair to him, but he had hoped she would settle into their marriage without too many regrets. From what he had observed earlier in her chamber, s
he still yearned for Sindair.
Ross glanced around the hall, noting that Sinclair was speaking earnestly to Seana. Where was Niall? He angled a look at Gillian, surprised to see her staring at Sinclair and Seana, too.
“I didna know they were friends,” Gillian remarked, gesturing toward the couple.
“Neither did I, although ’tisna odd. Clan McHamish is neutral, friends to both Clan MacKay and Clan MacKenna. They have never taken sides.”
The commotion in the hall grew more intense as the tables were pushed against the wall and people crowded around the bride and groom to offer congratulations and words of advice.
“We need to talk about what happened in your chamber earlier,” Ross said. “If we leave now, our absence willna be noticed.”
Gillian stared at Ross for the space of two heartbeats and then nodded. Ross had difficulty looking away from the mesmerizing depths of her emerald-green eyes. They sucked him in and would have devoured him if he hadn’t found the strength to turn away.
“Come,” he said, guiding her from the hall. No one seemed to notice them slip away and mount the stairs to Gillian’s old chamber.
The moment Ross closed the door, Gillian rounded on him. “I didna invite Angus into my chamber. You accuse me falsely, MacKenna.”
“I’ve accused you of naught ... yet.” He glanced at the mussed bed, his expression brittle with disgust. “Please explain why you and Sinclair were rolling around on the bed like animals in heat.”
“If I had my sword, I would run you through for that remark. Any fool could see Angus was attacking me and I was resisting.”
Ross could do naught but stare at her; she was magnificent in her fury No flame burned brighter than Gillian. She almost made him forget he wanted to take her to task for inviting Sinclair’s attention.
“Tell me what happened,” he demanded.