The Draig's Choice

by Lisa Dawn Wadler

  With a shrug, she challenged, “Try me.” When his eyes widened, she doubled the dare by lifting the shift over her head and throwing it to the floor. Apparently, I’m going through with this.

  His gaze swept her from messed hair to naked toes and back up again. The answering whisper refilled her self-esteem bucket to overflowing. “Such perfection.”

  Sarah stepped closer and savored the crackle between them, wondering why she couldn’t see the sparks shooting over her body. With a quick tug, the fur hit the floor. In front of her stood a man who should be sculpted into stone. His magnificent physique would put a body builder to shame. Not an ounce of fat dared to linger under his skin. “Perfection sounds about right.”

  With her whisper, she pressed her body against his and reveled in the explosive sensations rocking her world. Taking his scruffy face between her palms, she pulled him down so his mouth became level with hers. “I was a bit drunk last night and am having issues recalling the official marriage. Care to refresh my memory?”

  His answering groan resonated against her mouth as he crushed his lips to hers, while he pulled her flush against him. In the light of day, Conall recalled the finer kissing lessons and stole her thought with lips that teased and brushed.

  Oh yeah, this is the ultimate hangover cure.

  In unison, they stumbled backward to the bed and Sarah fell back on the mattress. To her utter delight, Conall immediately followed and settled on top of her into her willing arms and between her legs. His mouth claimed hers and she waited with impatience for his hands to explore, to cover her skin that had been ignored in their drunken night.

  But the delight ended as memories transformed into a live replay. Conall entered her quickly and began thrusting with no rhyme or reason. No way. Her hands weren’t effective at controlling his powerful hips and he ignored every move of her hips.

  “Sweetie, slow down,” she urged into his ear.

  “I swear to be quick,” Conall groaned against her neck. Heavenly kisses were forgotten with his solo race to the finish line.

  “You don’t have to.” Sarah’s attempts to slow him down ebbed as all physical cues pointed at the near ending. His grunts had increased and the delightful muscles under hands tightened.

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  Then it was over with his warm breath panting against her neck. She lay still, her palms resting on his back, not quite certain how it was even possible to be so horrible in bed.

  Conall rolled off her. “You offered a gift for which I had nay expectation. But we will both recall that we started the day married.”

  Where he expressed delight, she blew out a frustrated breath. So, no one taught him how to kiss and clearly no one taught him how to. . . Her mind avoided the profane vocabulary. Well, if he can be taught to kiss, one can easily assume the rest can be handled. Just have to avoid bruising that tender male ego.

  “Conall,” she started with her head turning to face him. The knock at the door caused them both to startle. Bella leapt up to bark at the intrusion.

  Lena called through the door, “The clan waits as does the meal. I have come to escort Sarah to the baths.”

  Once again looking at her, Conall sighed. “I have also been told that such comforts should nay be denied a new wife.”

  “But we need to talk about a few details,” Sarah replied even as Conall left the bed and began rummaging in the trunk at the foot of the bed.

  “You have agreed to be my wife. The rest can wait until later.” The protest never left her lips when he returned to her and his hands cupped her face and he pressed an awkward kiss to her frowning mouth. “We shall make the most of our time together. I swear to be a kind husband and nay ask for more than I should.” Conall pulled back and beamed at her. “I have you for my own, Sarah. For you are my legend come to fill my days with love.”

  “Oh, Conall. . .” Her thoughts trailed off.

  “Have your bath and I shall meet you in the study.”

  Sarah rose from the bed and Conall wrapped her in the oversized robe, and she was physically lost in the folds of fabric, while mentally lost in how to teach a grown man what a woman needs.

  Chapter 16

  “Did you plot to deceive me?” Conall questioned from behind his desk while glaring at Peter who sat across from him.

  “Are we still talking about Elspeth carrying a bairn?” Evan asked from the other chair. “I thought all had been forgiven last night given the hearty welcome.”

  Ignoring his brother, he waited for an answer. Running his fingers over the contract waiting to be signed, he had waited until the end of practical matters to determine how deep Peter ran with falsehoods and deceptions.

  “No,” Peter replied, his voice light and seemingly entertained. “I assumed you would have figured it out last night. Lena and I only meant to have the sheet fit for viewing to save you the trouble.”

  Evan sat straighter in the chair, paying attention for the first time since being woken. “What are we talking about?” Then he laughed. “Did you need to stain the sheet to save Sarah’s reputation?”

  “Enough, Evan,” Conall snapped. “You need ken only that Peter and I have yet to determine how much we trust one another.”

  Peter sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. “Women in my time are different. The rules are different. While I never asked her about it, it seemed safe to assume the sheet would need a bit of help. That was my only goal, to provide what was needed. Seriously, you had to notice that she wasn’t innocent.”

  Evan laughed and reached for his cup of wine. “Even a fool would have noticed. Give Peter credit for being of aid.”

  Conall sat back and sighed at the jesting in which he found little humor. He had no notion of how he would tell the difference. It wasn’t like the women who had taken his coin were innocents; they had all been far from it. “Fine, then I will assume you meant well.”

  “Thank you. Despite what you may think of me, my intent has always been to take care of this clan.” Peter’s voice aired his challenge and Conall admired the stance. It took a brave man to admit his plans did not serve the laird.

  “I ken it. Sarah explained such to me. But next time, speak with me and share with me every detail and every thought. A mistake beyond comprehension was almost made.”

  “Agreed. I will tell you all and I will do the same for Evan when you leave,” Peter vowed without his usual humor and Conall took comfort from knowing that Evan would be seen as laird in his absence.

  “You will do the same for Sarah.” Turning his gaze to his brother, he added, “As my wife, Sarah will run the household, help you with judgments, and be part of all decisions.” Then he aired a thought that made his blood run cold. “Should I nay return, you will see her cared for all the days of her life. If we have a bairn, I trust you to raise him to take over the lairdship when he comes of age.” The very notion that he might not live to see a child born stuck in his soul like a dagger.

  Evan nodded. “I would treat your child as my own. A son to be raised to be laird or a daughter to protect and see wed by choice as ‘tis our way.” Evan narrowed his gaze, his question teasing and hinted at thoughts unthinkable. “If Sarah should wish to wed again, do I allow such?”

  The growl escaped before he could stop it and Evan chuckled. “So, did you marry for your own needs or to appease the Bruce? Logan clearly led the cheers last night and may have mentioned this morn that you being wed will please the Bruce.”

  Pushing away the question he would never answer, his intense need for Sarah and how that mixed with his heart were of no consequence to his brother. Conall answered simply. “When you care for the clan, you will need to recall that the favor of the crown may serve all well.”

  “Am I interrupting?” Sarah asked from the open door to the study, her hand holding Bella’s collar to prevent entry.

  Irritation fled with the sight of her. His gaze feasted on the perfection of her form he could still see in his mind’s eye, eve
n if covered by a gown that highlighted her eyes. He let his thoughts fill with the sight of the spots of fire burned into her skin, the dots that he wished to connect from the tip of her nose down to her toes. The damp, red tangle of curls tucked behind her head made him wish to pull it free and lose his hands for the rest of the day in its bounty. But the day called for restraint, as did all of his dealings with her. Despite the morn’s bold claims, he recalled the lesson that women tolerate a man’s needs, but no more.

  “You could never interrupt,” Conall answered, rising from his chair, craving to once again be close to her. “We have finished the contract and wait for you to sign. Though ‘tis a formality and naught to fash over.”

  “What’s fash?” Sarah asked with her eyes on Peter.

  “Nothing to worry about,” he replied.

  She nodded and stepped to the desk rather than to his side, which disappointed him beyond belief. Lifting the parchment, she studied the words and then let it drop to the table. “Why is Peter giving you lands for me?”

  At her side, he took her hand in his, desperate to feel her again. “Custom dictates a dowry. To cease any from whispering, I gifted Peter the lands the Campbell gave me. They are distant and I dinna ken them. But he gave them back to me as your dowry.”

  “So more of a deal on paper rather than a real trade,” Sarah said, her voice quiet and lacking the playful spirit he so enjoyed. But she gripped his hand and he assumed his hunger had left her tired.

  “Aye, merely formality to be met. But I am pleased you read. Can you also write?” Conall needed to make certain she could handle all he would need her to do in his absence.

  “Yes.” She laughed at him. “I can do both.”

  Peter cleared his throat. “I’m betting she can do everything I can do.”

  Conall blinked in amazement. “Truly?” Peter’s gifts had aided the clan on more than one occasion and to think Sarah would be able to do the same thrilled him.

  “What are we talking about?” Sarah asked.

  Evan rose and took her face in his hands and placed a kiss to each of her cheeks. “Good morrow, sister.”

  Sarah laughed and pushed him away. “Good morning. Maybe now you can stop flirting so outrageously with me given the whole sister thing.”

  “Never,” Evan vowed, with a hand over his chest. “When my brother leaves for battles, you will need to hear of your beauty to keep your spirit strong.”

  Conall snarled at his brother. “Enough, Evan. If you wish to remain here, speak of Peter’s talents.” He wanted to know if his brother realized how unique Peter could be in the right situation.

  Leaning against the desk, Evan beamed. “We have yet to present Peter with a language he can nay hear or read. ‘Tis a skill said to belong to all who travel through the doors. Mayhap you also carry the talent.” His gaze locked on Sarah.

  Peter added from his seat, “At home, English was all I ever learned, with enough colorful Spanish to keep up with the other kids. Here I understand all of it.”

  Sarah frowned. “Seriously?”

  Peter rose and shook his head. “It’s weird, but true. But it gets even better. If I listen close I can tell when someone switches to another language, presumably to keep a secret. I feel something in my head, like a tiny switch flipping to translate a new language. You need to learn to feel that. I can vouch for the fact it has helped me negotiate trade contracts as if I heard every word not meant to be heard.” Peter turned to Conall. “Say something in Gaelic.”

  “In Gaelic?” Sarah immediately questioned.

  Peter grinned. “It’s what they speak here. You’ve been hearing and speaking in another language the whole time. And that contract isn’t written in English. Kind of funky, huh?”

  Sarah only nodded and then turned to Conall. “What other languages do you speak?”

  With a squeeze to her hand, he told her. “I also ken some, English and Latin.” He would not boast, given he didn’t have full command of either tongue, merely enough to figure out the basics and to read missives from Robert. Staring into her eyes, he whispered, “Your beauty stirs me.”

  Sarah turned to Peter with a slight blush on her cheeks. “No difference.”

  “Listen carefully,” Peter instructed. “Conall, switch languages back and forth.”

  So, he repeated the compliment that came from his heart over and over, alternating in English and Gaelic, until her eyes widened.

  “Whoa,” she whispered and turned to Peter. “That’s insane.”

  “Yeah it is. Plus, it allows you to listen when you were never meant to. All conversations within the keep are out in the open regardless of the dialect. No secrets and no one whispering in front of you with insults and a smile while they assume you have no clue. The same holds true in negotiations. But you have to listen for the switch and watch for the signals by the speaker.” Peter explained, and Sarah nodded. “The trick is to keep a poker face when the language changes. Reveal nothing.”

  “I want to practice that.” Her enthusiasm for the skill brought her back to life.

  “I will aid you,” Conall offered. But he would do anything possible to see the wide smile on her face. He would whisper to her through each and every night if she wished. “But enough for now, we have a contract to sign and a hall full of clansmen to greet. We can break our fast and then you shall meet all. It fills me with such pride to present you as my wife.” His heart out and open for the woman before him who agreed to take all of him and who wished to build a life with him.

  “I could eat,” she agreed.

  Handing her the quill dipped in ink, she wrinkled her nose and a soft giggled filled the air. “Do I sign my real name?”

  “Sign you name as you would, Sarah,” Conall suggested. “Let all ken you as a woman of legend by your hand.” Then her hands fell away leaving his body bereft without his touch.

  Taking the quill in hand, he watched her scrawl the word Sarah. “Why have you stopped?” He couldn’t understand her lack of pride at her people.

  “I’m no legend, only Sarah.” A sigh followed, and he winced, certain once again he had erred, given her stance on wishing to be seen only as a lass. But she is so much more.

  “I only meant for generations to come to have a hint that mayhap you were from the land of legends. A hint rather than a written tale.” Her eyes softened a tad, but he knew he had failed to erase her concerns. He silently vowed to make amends later when they were again alone. He would whisper in languages of his desire for her, not a tale, until she forgave his remarks.

  “You two should head into the hall,” Peter suggested as he rose. “I can give you a little while to eat something, but the villagers have been pacing the courtyard since dawn with good wishes and congratulations.”

  Conall quickly signed his name and title onto the parchment that would be stored with others that had been written generations ago. Pride filled his soul knowing that his contract would survive so many years from now, all would see his name alongside that of the woman he claimed.

  “Come, wife. I shall gladly see you at my right as we share our meal. Then let all come to greet us and share our joy.” Conall took her hand and led her into his hall, bursting at the seams with the cheers of his warriors and of those who served the keep. For the first time, he dared to hope the Bruce would have no further need of his service. He could grow content to live as his ancestors had on his lands with the woman sent by the fates to stand by his side.

  Late morning turned to midday with Sarah and the great beast at their feet. The whole of the village came with glad tidings on their lips for the laird and his wife. All the while, Conall thanked the fates that had delivered Sarah to him.

  Chapter 17

  Rachel’s voice whispered in her head. “Turns out drunk wasn’t the excuse.” Sarah could hear the laughter as if her sister sat next to her in the hall.

  Unable to resist, Sarah answered, “Who would have thought someone that unbelievably hot could be so bad in bed? Hi
ghlanders are way better in the books. But then, life tends to be better in the books.” She glanced around the hall to make certain she hadn’t answered out loud. She intentionally avoided the sheet still hanging over the fireplace, and the wine stain that had served its purpose.

  Night two had been a sexual repeat of abysmal. “I think it’s more that he didn’t pick up on the verbal cues,” Rachel explained. “I mean if asking him to slow down and pushing at him doesn’t work, he may just not care so much about your needs.”

  But that didn’t mesh with the rest of their budding relationship. Conall had been constantly concerned with her well-being.

  Again, Rachel’s laughter filled her thoughts. “At least he has the decency to apologize.”

  Sarah felt her brows furrow. What’s that all about?

  “Where’s your husband?” Peter asked as he sat next to her on the bench. She could hear the slightly mocking grin, so she continued to stare at what was likely a version of oatmeal while he leaned down to greet Bella.

  “Training with the men.” She’d been left alone after Conall had quickly eaten, but after he’d made sure she remained contented. Sarah glanced up and shrugged. “Short honeymoon.”

  “It matches the courtship,” Peter teased. As if sensing her discord, he asked, “What’s wrong? I thought I’d find you all happy. You have Conall.”

  “Yeah, I thought I’d find me happy too.” Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. “Trying to sort it all out in my head.”

  “Want to run it by me?” When she remained quiet, Peter added, “Hey, I’m your new family. Talk to me.”

  Pushing the barely touched bowl away from her, Sarah began, “I’ve been sorting out the last twenty-four hours into positives and negatives.” Sounds way better than I’ve been having a conversation with someone who isn’t here.

  Peter nodded. “Let’s start with the good stuff. It’s too early for negatives.”

  Despite her inner turmoil, Sarah chuckled. “Good idea.” Holding out her hand, her fingers ticked off with each statement. “First, Conall is beyond sweet, caring, and wonderful. Second, he’s incredibly easy on the eyes, not that I’m shallow, but damn the man is sexy.”