Why ? whispered a voice in her head and she had no answer. Why indeed? She was three and twenty and had been on her own, without home or family, for seven years. In all those years she could count the number of times she had felt safe or happy on the fingers of one hand. Raibeart made her feel both. There was also little chance that she would wed because of her differences so whom was she saving her maidenhead for? Should it not go to the one man in her whole life that made her feel safe, happy, and even beautiful?
Una grinned as she stepped out of the pool and dried herself, wrapping the damp cloth around her wet hair and then donning the shirt he had left for her. She wanted Raibeart and she could take what she wanted for once in her life. As she rinsed out her clothes and spread them out to dry on some of the rubble cluttering the room, she wondered exactly how she could do that. When she stood up to return to the large chamber, she suffered a pinch of uncertainty but shook it aside. Raibeart had shown that he wanted her, even said he intended to woo her. Whether he meant seduction or marriage no longer mattered. He was about to be claimed. She unwrapped her hair and used the cloth to rub it dry as she went hunting her prey.
Raibeart looked up as Una entered the chamber and he nearly choked. She was slowly rubbing her hair dry as she walked toward him. The shirt she wore hung to her knees, but he knew she wore nothing beneath it. Each time she raised her arms a little to rub her hair, the shirt slipped up to her thighs. His hands itched to touch all that smooth skin she was showing him. Instead he nodded and hurried out of the room to take his own bath. He just wished the water were cold.
The sight of her clothing draped over the scattered rocks did nothing to help him regain his calm. It reminded him all too clearly of the fact that all that stood between him and her beautiful skin was one thin shirt. He had always considered desire something a man could easily control, but he had no control around Una, his body demanding that he claim her every time he looked at her.
Raibeart shook his head as he shed his clothes and entered the pool. He was going to have to try harder. His wooing appeared to be working but, after all Una had suffered, he doubted she was ready for a man half blind with hunger for her.
By the time he was bathed and dressed in clean clothing, he was again in control of his desires. Then he stepped up to the small fire she sat near and she smiled at him. His body clenched tightly with the wanting he had just thought he had conquered. Gritting his teeth, he sat down beside her on the blanket she had spread out. Despite all his attempts to keep his gaze fixed on the flames, he was soon staring at her long, slim legs and clenching his fists to stop himself from touching them.
Una picked up Raibeart’s wineskin, turned to offer it to him, and grew very still. Raibeart was staring at her legs much as a starving man stared at any scrap of food. She wondered if there was something alarming about the MacNachton s he had not told her, and then told herself not to be so slack-witted.
She recognized that look on his face. The tightening of the lines of his face, the hint of color riding his high cheekbones. It was desire. She had seen it on a man’s face before. It was a look that had always preceded a flare of violence and then her running for her life. It was a look she had learned to read as a warning of danger. Now, seeing that look on Raibeart’s handsome face, everything within her read it as an invitation. Una was just not certain how she could answer it in a way that was not too brazen.
Still holding the wineskin, she shifted until she was kneeling, facing him. Her breath caught in her throat when his gaze met hers. His dark eyes had gone feral, lightening until they were more a dark amber than a brown so dark it was almost black. It did not frighten her, however. Instead, it stirred to life a hunger that rose rapidly to equal the one she could read in those beautiful predator’s eyes.
“Do ye wish a drink?” she asked, a little surprised at how low and husky her voice was.
“Aye.” Raibeart took the wineskin from her hand and set it on the floor, never once taking his gaze from her face. “I do. A deep one.”
He kissed her, and Una shivered, heat flooding through her body the moment his lips touched hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, threaded her fingers through his hair, and held him close. The hunger she had seen in his eyes was revealed in his kiss. This was no gentle wooing. This was a man telling her that he wanted her, a man demanding that she give him what he needed.
It should have frightened her. Men had demanded before, had expected to be able to take what they wanted from her. It was why she had never settled anywhere since being driven from her family’s home. Each time she had tried, some man had thought she was free for the taking and tried to do just that despite her refusals. Una did not fear Raibeart. His demand did not make her want to fight him and run; it made her want to give, to share. She returned his kiss with a demand of her own.
Raibeart was close to shaking with the force of his need by the time he pushed Una down onto the blanket. He was not surprised to see the fine tremor in his hand as he began to unlace the shirt she wore, kissing each newly exposed patch of skin, inhaling the scent of her, and becoming drunk on the taste of her. The voice of reason in his mind tried to warn him to go slow, to be certain that Una was ready to make love, but it took several minutes before he grasped enough control to heed it.
“Una,” he said as he gently tugged the shirt aside to expose her softly rounded shoulder, “ye have but a heartbeat or two to tell me nay, to stop me.”
“If I was going to say nay, I would have done so ere ye got me on my back,” she whispered and nipped his chin.
He laughed but it was a rough sound, more of a growl than anything else. “There will be nay going back.” Raibeart knew she would think he referred to her innocence, but he did not have the strength or the wit to explain what he really meant now.
“I ken that.”
Una placed her hands on his cheeks and tugged his mouth down to hers. She did not want to talk. Her mind was settled. She would have Raibeart, hold him close for as long as he allowed, and deal with the consequences of their heedlessness later.
When he tugged off the shirt she wore and tossed it aside, she could feel the heat of a blush sting her cheeks, neck, and chest. No man had ever seen her completely naked. Raibeart raised himself to his knees to tear off his clothing, and Una lost all concern over her own nudity. He was beautiful, all hard muscle and dark golden skin. She caught a quick look at his manhood, rising hard and long from a thatch of black curls, before he returned to her arms, but she pushed the image from her mind. That part of a man had represented a threat to her for far too long; she did not want the sight of it to chill the fire his touch had set blazing inside her.
The way he caressed her body with his large, calloused hands burned away the lingering uncertainty still lodged in her heart and mind. This was what she needed, what she wanted. When he followed the path of his hands with his mouth, she lost every ability to think at all, fierce desire grasping full control. Soft cries of delight escaped her as he kissed her breasts, whispered praises against them, suckled Una like a child, and slowly slipped his hand between her legs. Each caress brought her such pleasure she feared she would lose herself in it but could not bring herself to care.
A touch of unease nudged her mind when she felt him begin to join their bodies. “Raibeart?”
“I dinnae wish to hurt you,” he said.
The growl of the beast echoing in his words was but another spark added to the fire consuming her, and she wrapped her limbs around him. “Nature and God say ye must, so be quick about it.”
She had barely finished speaking when he thrust deep inside her, ending her innocence in little more than a heartbeat of time. A sharp pain tore through her insides, but she swallowed her cry. The pain was gone almost as quickly as it had arrived. Una held Raibeart close, smoothing her hands over his broad back, his forehead resting against hers, and his gaze fixed upon her body as he caressed her, soothed her. She was filled with him, surrounded by the scent and the warmt
h of his strong body. Never had she felt so safe, so alive.
Raibeart kissed her and began to move, thrusting in and out of her with a steady, gentle rhythm that brought tears to her eyes. A tight knot of hot need formed low in her belly, and she began to match his strokes. The need grew more demanding, the pleasure carrying a hint of pain, and then something inside her broke. She called out his name as she tumbled into a torrent of intense pleasure so sweet, so beautiful she never wished it to end. His voice caressed her ears as he thrust into her several times, so fiercely that her body shifted along the floor, and he growled out her name in a voice that was barely human. A sharp pain on her neck turned into a searing delight, desire’s heat rushing through her body so strongly that she plunged into desire’s abyss for a second time. His strong body bucked against her, shuddering as a warmth bathed her womb, and then he collapsed on top of her, their heavy, panting breaths as perfect a match as their bodies.
It was a long time before Raibeart found the strength, and will, to move. He wanted to stay deep and warm inside Una’s body. It had been a struggle not to turn the bite he had given her into the mating bite, her blood so sweet and intoxicating he had nearly lost control. It was too soon and she deserved to choose him of her own free will. Raibeart finally eased their bodies apart and lifted his head from her full soft breasts to look at her.
“Are ye weel?” he asked.
“Ye bit me.” Una was unsettled over how much she had liked it.
“Aye. Mayhap I should have asked first, but I wasnae thinking verra clearly.”
That was very flattering, Una thought. She decided she had liked the bite too much to deny it, too. “I was just a wee bit surprised is all.”
“Ah, weel, then, I can tell ye that I mean to surprise ye a lot.”
Una grinned. “Do ye now?”
“I do, but ’tis best if ye get some rest now.”
Although painfully embarrassed when he cleaned them both off, she settled comfortably in his arms when he returned to their rough bed. Sleep tugged at her so firmly that she rested her cheek against the warmth of his chest and closed her eyes. She was just tumbling into the blackness of exhaustion when she thought she heard Raibeart say mine but could not rouse herself enough to ask him what he meant.
Raibeart looked at the woman curled up against him, her long dark lashes a soft crescent against her pale skin, and sighed. He was sated and content, but there was a tiny worm of unease in his heart. Una was his, but she had uttered no words of love, as he would have expected of an innocent who had just allowed a man to make love to her. Then again she had willingly given him that innocence. That had to mean something important. Instinct told him, however, that she was not fully his. Not yet. He had a fight ahead of him. Raibeart could only hope that it was not a long one. Now that he had shared such a fierce passion with Una, he had no intention of letting her go.
Chapter Six
“Try it again.”
Una opened one eye to look up at Raibeart. He stood over her, grinning widely, and she wished she had the strength left to kick him. Asking him to teach her how to use her MacNachton strengths to fight with some skill might not have been the best idea she had ever had, she decided.
“Nay,” she said. “I think I best save what little strength I have left for the ride ahead of us.”
Raibeart laughed, bent down to grasp her by her wrist, and pulled Una to her feet. “And we should be riding from here soon.” He tugged her into his arms. “Ye did weel. Verra weel. I think ye have a lot of MacNachton strengths but a lot of what our laird was hoping for as weel. Ye can mix with the Outsiders because ye can endure time in the sun and ye eat their food. A fine and helpful mix.”
“Ye eat their food, e’en cook it weel. S’truth, I think ye may cook with more skill than I do.”
He kissed the tip of her nose, loving the little freckles that marched across the bridge of that small straight nose. “I like the tastes but none of it will keep me alive. If I dinnae get blood, I slowly weaken and die. There is no escaping that dark hunger.”
“Ye could have some of mine,” she said, shocking herself with the offer. After being bled by that mad laird for so long, she was surprised she was able to offer even Raibeart her blood.
“Nay, lass. I am fine.” He brushed a kiss over her mouth. “And I had a wee sip this morning, aye?” He laughed when she blushed. “The wine is enough for me and I can get what I need when we get to Cambrun.”
“We should have been there by now, aye?”
“Aye, but it may weel be another two nights now because we have had to travel in such a winding path, trying to shake those cursed hunters from our heels.”
He could see her disappointment reflected in her eyes and he kissed her. Raibeart decided that kissing her was a craving he had no wish to control. The way she tasted, the way her passion rose so quickly to meet his and warm him, was not something any man could resist. When he ended the kiss, he looked into her eyes and the shadows were gone again. What had replaced them, however, was a wanting so strong and so hot, he nearly pushed her right back down on the ground so that he could bury himself deep inside her.
Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly in a vain attempt to cool the searing need he had for her, Raibeart said, “We will free the others, Una. Aye, it would be verra fine if we could do so in the sennight we had first thought, but I swear to you, there will be no delay once we reach Cambrun and tell them what we need. I dinnae think we will e’en linger to make a plan, for we can do that as we ride for Dunmorton. Whatever happens, someone will see them freed and cared for. E’en if we dinnae reach Cambrun, I have left messages for my kinsmen at every shelter we have been in so that the next traveler from my clan will ken what needs to be done.”
“I ken it. ’Tis just that, now and then, I fear for what they must be suffering. It tears at my heart to think they are being punished while I am free. Ye dinnae think he will kill them because I escaped, do ye?”
“Nay. He wants what only they can give him. Trust me, what he is getting from his vile potions he makes from their blood is nay something he will easily give up.”
She nodded. “That is what I keep telling myself. I also tell myself that I had to escape, that it was all that could offer us any chance to survive.”
“And ye are right. Ye found me, my clan, and the MacNachtons will get your friends out of those cages and kill their captors,” he said even as he mounted Tor and pulled her up into the saddle behind him. “Now, we really must ride. Staying in the open like this isnae safe, nay when I havenae completely shaken those cursed hunters off our trail.”
Una clung to him as he rode using a cautious speed, for his mount was invaluable to their escape from the hunters. She knew Raibeart cared deeply for the animal as well. That could be seen in how he treated the beast, the way he spoke to the animal, and even in the way he petted it.
He petted her a lot, too, she thought, and grinned. Raibeart was a man who liked to touch and she was heartily glad of it. Una wished they were not in a race to escape their enemies, a race to get to Cambrun to get help for her friends. She would like to spend more time with Raibeart, more time to savor and explore the passion that raged between them. She would also like some time to talk to him about exactly what he meant when he spoke of wooing, if she could ever gather the courage to do so.
Numerous times since they had made love she had started to ask him what he had meant, only to choke on the words. That cowardice surprised her. She had never suffered from an inability to say what she thought or demand answers to any questions she had. All she could think of concerning her sudden hesitancy was that she feared the answers he would give her. She did not want to ask Raibeart about wooing for she was terrified he would speak only of passion, need, or want, and not say a word about love or some future together.
Una pushed those thoughts aside. She had decided not to trouble herself with recriminations, regrets, or doubts and needed to hold fast to that decision. If she allo
wed such doubts and worries into her mind, it could taint what she shared with Raibeart, and that was the very last thing she wished to do. Despite the danger they could not seem to shake free of and the pressing need to save her friends, she was actually happy. Una could see no harm in allowing herself to revel in that for just a little while.
Raibeart frowned toward the woods Una had disappeared into. Even with his keen vision, he could not see any sign of her and he suspected she had made sure that he would not. Although he understood her need for a few moments of privacy now and then, he did not like her to be completely out of his sight. He had managed to elude the hunters, but that was not the same as escaping them. They were still out there, still trailing along behind.
He cursed softly. His attempt to find any Lost Ones had been an utter failure. There had been the hope of only one, a hope held briefly and shattered when he discovered the lass had been murdered by her own husband. The way the man had wept and moaned about demons had given Raibeart a good idea of how the lass had died, and it had taken all his will not to just snap the fool’s neck. Now that he had found a Lost One, and one he had every intention of keeping for himself, he could not seem to get her free of the men hunting her. It was obvious that, in the future, he should just stay with training horses, he thought morosely.
Just as he was shaking free of his self-castigation and wondering exactly how angry Una might get if he went looking for them, he heard a sound that did not belong in the forest. A soft grunt and then a low, mean laugh. The sounds sent an icy chill down his spine. He moved Tor deeper into the shelter of the trees, drew his sword, and slipped into the woods, becoming part of the shadows as he moved silently toward the sounds.
Born to Bite Bundle Page 57