The Magnificent Rogue

by Iris Johansen

  A shudder went through her, and muscles clenched beneath his touch.

  “I’m glad you got rid of those woolen stockings,” he murmured. “These are much more pleasant.” He rubbed the sensitive spot behind her knee.

  She arched upward off the blanket as the touch generated a flash of heat that seemed to strike directly into her womb.

  “What a fascinating sensitivity you have there. I can’t tell you how happy I am that I discovered it.” He drew the stocking off and gently touched the sole of her foot. “And here.”

  The muscle of her calf spasmed as her foot arched. She drew a deep breath. It was all very well for him to play his games, but this was taking entirely too long. “That is not the sensitive place to which I wish you to apply yourself.”

  “Presently.” He untied the other garter and put it aside. “Perhaps.”

  “Perhaps! If you think—” She stopped as she saw his mischievous grin. He looked wicked, reckless, and infinitely sensual. She had never seen him quite like this, and the sudden change intrigued her. His mood might be devilish, but she knew he would not be able to keep himself from giving her satisfaction or taking his own. But if she could restrain herself, perhaps he would grow impatient, and that end might come sooner. She met his gaze and then deliberately lay back on the blanket. “It’s possible that I may grow bored with all this folderol.”

  “Ah, a challenge.” He sat back on his heels and looked at her lying naked before him. “Now what can I do to meet it?’ He reached down and picked up the two leather garters. “Shall I show you one of the things I learned in Spain?”

  “You’ve already shown me any number of things.”

  “But this has to do with textures. You displayed an interest in them at one time, and I’ve always had a certain preoccupation with them.” He took one of the garters and bent over her. “No, lie quite still. You know I wouldn’t hurt you.”

  “What are you doing?” She watched as he encircled her left breast with the strip of leather and then slowly tightened the spiral until both the tip and an area about one inch in diameter were thrown upward in relief.

  “How does it feel?”

  “Strange. There’s … pressure.”

  “But it doesn’t hurt?”

  “No.” The butter-soft leather was smooth and warm against her flesh and the pressure slight. “I can barely feel it.”

  “You will.” He was binding her right breast with the other garter. “Even this little stricture will cause the blood to rise to your nipples and make them very sensitive.” He finished tying the leather and sat back and looked at her. “It’s already starting,” he said thickly. “Do you feel it?”

  She was beginning to experience a faint tingling, and when she glanced down at the leather bonds against her flesh, the tingling deepened.

  “Yes?” Robert asked.

  She looked at him and realized at once that the act had excited him as much as it did her. Surely, he could not continue very much longer. “Perhaps a little.” She feigned a yawn. “Though I think I’m growing sleepy.”

  “Then we must certainly wake you up.” He sat down beside her and leisurely spread her legs and looked at her. “But I think this part of you needs little stirring.” He reached behind her. “However, we will do it anyway.”

  Coolness against her hotness, a faint earthy roughness against the heart of her.

  “What are you—”

  He held it up to show her. He had plucked a stalk of heather and had been rubbing it against her. The stalk was fully twelve inches long, with a thick purple stem, close-leaved green shoots, and feathery spikes of bell-shaped flowers.

  “I told you there were any number of uses for heather.” He brushed the flower across her belly and watched the muscles contract “Textures, Kate. Wonderful, wonderful textures.”

  His blasted textures were driving her mad. The spike of petals trailing over her body was leaving paths of fire in its wake, bringing the blood to the surface until she felt as if her entire body were hot, touched, possessed.

  “Still sleepy, lass?”

  She couldn’t answer.

  The heather was brushing lightly against her distended nipples, and she bit her lip to stifle a groan. They were now as exquisitely sensitive as he had said they would be. Her breasts began to rise and fall with every breath.

  “Somehow I don’t think so.” He stayed at her breasts a long time, circling the rosy globe the slight pressure had brought to the surface, then applying the plant to the nipples. His gaze was narrowed on her face. “If you ask me sweetly enough, I might be persuaded to put an end to this.” He blew on one engorged nipple. “Tell me what you want.”

  She wanted his tongue on her; she wanted him to draw her into his mouth and relieve this fever of need he had ignited. But he had used the word “might,” and she would not give the teasing devil the satisfaction of surrender unless she was sure it was over. Dear heavens, surely he could not continue this for much longer.

  He trailed the heather over her rib cage and then down her abdomen. He toyed with the indentation of her belly button, watching as the muscles tensed. He moved the stalk farther, ruffling the curls surrounding her womanhood. “Now this is one of my favorite textures in all the world. Texture against texture. Don’t you find the blend interesting?”

  “No.” Her voice sounded strangled even to herself.

  “Ah, then perhaps I’d better do something to capture your attention.” He parted her thighs even wider and began to run the heather up and down the most intimate part of her.

  She wanted to scream. Her nails dug deep as her hands clenched on the blanket.

  “Oh, you do find that interesting?” He used the stem to rotate the nub. “And this?”

  She couldn’t stand it any longer. “Yes,” she said between set teeth.

  “You’re beautiful down here,” he whispered. “Even more beautiful than the heather. You’re opening and quivering like a flower at dawn.”

  He reversed the heather and moved it farther down. “It’s a fine thick stalk,” he said softly. He probed gently with the feathery spiky tip. “Would you like to feel it in you?”

  The silken words flowed over her, inciting a forbidden excitement. She was panting, her head thrashing back and forth on the blanket. It had to stop. She needed—“Yes!”

  “Not bloody likely.” He threw the heather aside and was in her with one bold plunge. “I’m a jealous man, and I’ll be damned if you know anyone or anything but me.”

  He suddenly was giving her everything he had denied her. While his hips moved strongly, frantically, he lifted her over his arm and began sucking strongly at her breast.

  It was too much. She could feel the tears running down her cheeks as both her limbs curled around his hips, desperately holding him to her. The pleasure was so intense, she was mindless, moving to every command, taking until she could take no more.

  The explosion that came a few minutes later left her limp and weak.

  She was barely conscious when he roused himself, untied the leather garters from her breasts and threw them aside. He chuckled. “I believe you enjoyed being dominated. Perhaps you’ll allow me to do it more often.”

  “I don’t … think I could stand it,” she gasped. She rolled over into his arms. “And, besides, it’s only fair I have my turn with you. I know just the place I want that leather garter to be.”

  “What a bawdy wench you are.”

  She held him close. The pagans who had first come to Craighdhu must have felt as she did now. She could hear the soft grunt of the seals and the rush of the sea crashing on the rocks below. The sun was hot on her naked flesh, and the smell of earth, heather, and Robert was all around her. Every time with him grew sweeter, more passionate, more complete, and yet always different: bright jewels for her to polish and put away in her treasure chest. Surely it could not be that way for her and not for him. He had never said the words, but she could feel the bond strengthening between them with every day t
hat passed. “My turn,” she repeated. “And soon.”

  “Perhaps we’ll forget about domination from now on,” he said warily, then kissed her. “Besides, you didn’t respond appropriately. Submission was required, not eagerness. You’re clearly not suited for this particular kind of play. Or perhaps it was all that talk of Elizabeth and her queenly ways that influenced you to display more spirit than called for.”

  “Perhaps.” She suddenly raised herself on her elbow and looked down at him. “But I shall also be a queen, you know. The best queen in all the world.”

  He stiffened as she had known he would, and his eyes narrowed. “Indeed?”

  She laughed and threw herself back into his arms. “The queen of Craighdhu.”

  He relaxed. “Are you trying to depose me again?”

  “Only in favor of your son or daughter.”

  His arms tightened around her. “No, Kate.”

  “Yes.” She cuddled closer, her lips brushing the hollow of his throat. “Craighdhu’s the only kingdom I’ll ever want. Give it to me.”

  I’ve told you that’s not possible.”

  Ordinarily, she would have dropped the subject, but she was too full of happiness and confidence not to make the attempt. “And I’ve told you that your reasons are foolish.”

  “Listen, Kate, you’re the one who is blind.” His hand gently stroked her hair. “So blind. Can’t you understand—No, Sebastian did his work too well.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I used to wonder why you couldn’t see the danger Elizabeth and I and the rest of the world could see for you. I thought at first you just didn’t want to know, but then I realized it was Sebastian again. He told you what a danger you were, and you rejected that truth along with all the lies. Believe me, you are a danger, Kate. To yourself and to Craighdhu.”

  “And to you?” she teased.

  He was silent a moment. “And to me.”

  He was so sober that for an instant a flicker of fear dimmed her happiness. “This is all nonsense. I would never hurt you. I only want to make you happy. Is it so bad to wish to give you a babe?”

  “You’re not with child?” he asked swiftly.

  “You know I had my flux last month. It’s not yet time.” His apprehension hurt her even though she knew its source. “So you need not be concerned.” She tried to smile. “Besides, you once said you had the remedy to the problem if I ever got with child.”

  “I do.”

  “And what is that?”

  “We would go away from Craighdhu,” he said simply. “Forever.”

  Her eyes widened in shock. “Exile?” she whispered. “You don’t mean it. You love Craighdhu.”

  “Aye, I love Craighdhu.”

  “It would kill you to leave it.”

  “It would kill me to destroy it.”

  He meant it. She started to tremble uncontrollably as she saw the implacable resolution in his face. “You’d hate me.”

  He shook his head. “Why should I hate you? I had to have you. I knew the penalty. I made the choice.”

  She buried her head in his shoulder.

  “Stop shaking,” he said gently. His hands moved up and down her back, comforting her as if she were a small child. “It hasn’t happened yet. We still have time.”

  And she must use that time to prove to him that he was wrong, that a child would not be the end of Craighdhu for him. “Can’t you see what a mistake you’d be making?”

  “Shh … Let’s speak of something else.”

  “I would never hurt you.” Her voice was unsteady. “Never. Not for Craighdhu. Not for anything. Do you believe me.”

  “I believe you.”

  But he also believed that she was destined to take him away from Craighdhu, and that would hurt him worse than the stab of an assassin’s dagger.

  Her arms tightened passionately around him.

  Why else would God have brought them together if He hadn’t meant them to be together here on Craighdhu? There was no order or reason in the world if He would let them be torn apart because of an accident of birth. Robert had to be wrong, and God had to give her the power to show him his error before it was too late.

  Two evenings later Jock Candaron strode into the hall where Robert and Kate sat playing chess before the fire. “How blissfully serene you both look,” he said tartly. “I regret to disturb you, Robert, but Malcolm is at the dock requesting an audience. What shall I tell him?”

  Robert muttered a curse as he pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. “I thought he was being too quiet.”

  “What shall I tell him?” Jock repeated.

  “Bring him here. I’ll have to see him, of course.”

  “I wasn’t sure.” Jock’s gaze went to Kate sitting by the fire. “Of late, you seem to have let other things distract you from your responsibilities.” He turned on his heel and left the room.

  “Why do you suppose he’s here?” Kate whispered.

  “I have no idea. It could mean anything with Alec.”

  “I didn’t even know he had returned from Edinburgh.”

  “Six weeks ago.”

  Her eyes widened. “You didn’t tell me.”

  “Why should I? There was no use worrying you until he made a move.”

  Her hands clenched on the arms of her chair. “He said he would pay a social visit. Could it be a peaceful—”

  “Hardly,” Robert cut through her sentence. “Not after we’ve aided the elopement of his daughter.”

  She had known her suggestion was foolish, but she had been clutching at straws. Malcolm’s arrival cast a shadow blocking the sun, and she could not bear this happy time to come to an end. “No, I suppose not. He must be very angry.”

  Alec Malcolm did not appear angry when Jock ushered him into the room a few minutes later. His cheeks were flushed with high color, and he was smiling.

  He smiles most sweetly when he’s raping a child or cutting a throat.

  Robert’s words came back to her as Alec Malcolm crossed the room and bowed before her. “Ah, more enchanting than ever. How I regret not being able to come to you before this. I trust you’re in good health?”

  “Very good health.”

  “And how could you help being well in spirit as well as body with such joyous festivities going on? I hear there was a wedding at Craighdhu.”

  She looked him in the eyes. “A splendid wedding.”

  “But how unkind of you not to invite me when my Jean was one of the participants. She must have made a bonnie bride.”

  “Lovely.” Robert moved across the room to stand beside Kate’s chair. “Is that why you’re here? I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. Gavin and Jean are no longer on the island.”

  “Oh, I’m aware of that fact. Of course, it didn’t surprise me that you sent them away. Craighdhu has always been the only thing that mattered to you. You’d never jeopardize it even to accommodate me.” He grimaced. “Such a pity. I would have much preferred accomplishing my goal by killing you and taking Craighdhu than wasting my time chasing all over Ireland.”

  Jock straightened. “Ireland?”

  “Oh, you hid them very well, Jock. It took great effort for me to find the happy couple.” He smiled. “However, now I fear they are no longer quite so happy.”

  Kate stared at him in horror. The very casualness of his tone sent a shiver through her.

  “Am I distressing you?” He turned back to Kate. “I see you’ve grown quite pale. Did you develop a fondness for that young scalawag?”

  Her lips felt numb as she said, “Have you hurt him?”

  “Not much … as yet.” He glanced at Robert. “You look quite lethal. I don’t have to tell you that I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t in a bargaining position of some strength.”

  “If you already have Gavin and Jean, I have no bargaining position at all,” Robert said coldly. “And when a desperate situation of that nature comes to pass, only violence remains.”

  “But you have an e
xcellent bargaining position, and violence would do you no good now. Your kinsman and Jean are safely back at Kilgranne, and my captain of the guard has orders to cut Gavin Gordon’s throat if I don’t return by dawn.”

  “No!” Kate cried.

  “Ah, you do have a fondness for the lad. Women are such sweet, gentle creatures. I’m sure you’d do anything to keep him from more harm.”

  “What are your terms?” Robert said curtly.

  “Nothing outrageous. I’d not be such a fool to ask for Craighdhu or even retribution for the trade you inveigled away from me from those Irish merchants.”

  “The terms,” Robert said between his teeth.

  He gestured to Kate. “Only a woman.”

  Kate heard Jock inhale sharply, and she was too stunned to speak.

  “Impossible,” Robert said impassively. “The woman is my wife.”

  “But handfast marriages are so easy to dissolve.”

  “It was not handfast. We were wed in the church.”

  Malcolm shook his head. “Handfast. Oh, your clansman would not tell me, but my sweet Jean was quite informative.”

  Kate shook her head. “She wouldn’t have told you anything.”

  “I admit she was under considerable stress.” He turned back to Robert. “You were foolish not to wed this lovely lady in the eyes of the church. It would have made her acquisition by anyone else more difficult.”

  “A man usually doesn’t have to do battle to keep his wife.”

  Alec smiled. “A man doesn’t usually wed the daughter of a queen.”

  Robert’s expression remained unrevealing. “I have no idea what you mean.”

  “You’re beginning to make me a trifle impatient. We both know this enchanting lady is a rare prize for an ambitious man.”

  “And who do you believe she is?”

  “Her guardian, Sebastian Landfield, proved quite upsetting to James. Fortunately, I was able to pacify his concern with a few well-chosen untruths.”