The Highlander's Warrior Bride (15 page)

But even his brothers, sisters, cousins—they were blood. On some level, he expected them to
understand him. They’d spent intimate years together. He and Julianna on the other hand… Though there hadn’t been years, there did seem to be this potent connection—a bond between the two of them that went deeper than a few heated kisses. It scared the hell out of him.

And
captivated him.

“What if I said, I wanted ye to
read me?” Ronan inched a little closer, not daring to touch, but enough that they shared heat.

Julianna shuttered her
ash-colored eyes for a minute, her long lashes sweeping over her cheeks. When she lifted them, her eyes brimmed with tears, glittery in the fire-light.

“It may be the whisky, or maybe the pain, I dinna know which, but I would say I want to. I…” She licked
her lips, blinked rapidly. Her hands fiddled with her skirts. “I like ye, Ronan. Ye make me feel things I’ve longed to. But at the same time, ye make me suffer, for I know they are far from within my grasp.” Her last words were said in a whisper, and she swiped at the tears that escaped to land in glistening streaks on her soft flesh.

Ronan didn’t know what pushed the words past his lips, but the moment he opened his mouth, they spilled out like the confession of a man long lost. “They dinna have to be. I am here. Take hold.”

She shook her head, looked away. “Ye dinna understand. I canna. The whisky’s gone to both our heads.”

He felt her dissent like a physical blow. How could she deny them both when it was so obvious they could make each other happy? He wasn’t sure if it was love, was almost certain it couldn’t be. But tha
t didn’t mean someday they wouldn’t have it. What he was convinced of, was that they should be together. He gripped her by the shoulders, forcing her to face him. Her body moved easily in his hands, no struggle. She wanted him to touch her, to show her how it could be different, didn’t she?

“We can make this work,” he said.

“What? What will we make work?”

Her question was pointed, and he didn’t know if he had the right answers, only that he wanted to try.

“Us, this.” Those two words uttered, he claimed her mouth with his, taking in her earthy scent and the taste of whisky on her lips.

Julianna struggled at first, but then she sagged against him. Wrapped her arms around his neck, tilted her head to deepen the kiss. Rushing sensations like those after a battle surged in his veins. Victory was within his grasp. But he wasn’t sure what the
victory was. That she’d kissed him surely. But was he truly ready to accept what he offered? Hell, yes. And ballocks, no!

Truth was, Ronan was a confused mess. Whenever Julianna was around
, his mind went in a thousand different directions. To ensure the realm was defended, loyalty to the Bruce and to Wallace, duty to family. All of those things he was capable of doing with his eyes closed and his sword arm tied behind his back. After all, he could fight just as well with his opposite hand. And now there was Julianna. A protective impulse coursed through him where she was concerned. He would battle to the death. He would go up against anyone who dared to harm her. No one was safe should they mistreat her. Ronan’s affections were, or at the very least his obsession with her, was that intense.

Her tongue stroked over his, filling him with a deep urgency.
His cock grew hard, pulsed with the need to bury deep inside her. He groaned when her breasts brushed his chest.

“Oh, Ronan…”

He had to put aside all the notions running rampant in his mind. Now was not the time to assess his mind, his feelings. Now he had a beautiful woman in his arms. A woman who wanted his attention, and who he craved in return. They could talk on their future in the morning on the ride back to Eilean Donan. For now, they would just languish in each other’s embrace. But kissing was as far as he would let it go.

Perhaps even a few touches. She’d been injured. Needed her rest. If they were to take things any further it would seal both their fates, and with the amount of whisky they’d drunk a
nd the life threatening battles of the last twenty-four hours, neither of them was in any kind of position to be making life changing decisions.

Julianna’s fingers kneaded his back, trailed a path up his spine to his shoulders. “Make love to me,” she murmured.

Chapter Fifteen

J
ulianna hadn’t meant for the words to escape her lips. For indeed, she
wanted
Ronan to make love to her, dreamed about it, thought about it constantly, but in reality? Make it real.

The heart wants what it cannot have, she reminded herself bitterly. But being in his arms—it took her to another place, made her feel whole inside.

And now that the words were uttered, she didn’t want to pull them back. With stunning clarity, she realized that her heart had taken the lead and asked for what she would never have had the ballocks to request.

She pulled back from his kiss, her hand on his chest where she could feel his heart racing as fast as her own. Gazing into his eyes, she saw mirrored in them all the desire, need and fear that she felt. “Make love to me,” she said with
conviction. “Here. Tonight.”

“But…”

Julianna shook her head, pressed her finger to his lips. “Dinna make excuses. I let ye do that before. We’re both adults, and while there are others that rule us day in and day out, here we are alone.”

“But my conscience is still here,” Ronan said, though his voice did not hold the same
persuasion it had in the forest.

“As is mine. And ’tis clear.”

Ronan narrowed his eyes. “How?”

Julianna smiled, scrunched her hand a little on his chest, feeling his muscle flex beneath her fingers. “I am nay like other women, Ronan.” She realized with those words he might think she was labeling herself a wanton. That was not the case. She bit her lip realizing her mistake. How did one go about explaining? “Ye see, I may never marry. I canna. ’Tis the reason I am what I am. The reason I took a lover some years ago. But that doesna mean I dinna want to feel…something. To be close to someone.”

Ronan placed his hand over hers, squeezed. “I know how ye feel.”

“Ye do?”

“Aye. I know naught of your circumstances, and I canna compare myself to ye. I can marry. Indeed, my family wishes it, but, I canna allow any woman into my life. She would only get hurt.”

Julianna glanced down at their hands. Studied the veins lining the back of his overlarge one. He completely engulfed her. Even with that simple touch she felt closer to him.

“Ye said before, that ye thought I was a prize,” Julianna said, taking a chance and glancing back up. Ronan’s gaze bored into hers.

“Aye. I still believe it.”

“Well, I believe ye’re a prize as well. A prize any woman would be glad to have. Dinna hide behind your sword and the fear that ye may hurt someone should ye be called back to the earth. Anyone who’s had the pleasure of knowing ye is better for it.”

Ronan
’s eyes darkened with some emotion she couldn’t decipher.

“Then we are a pair, the two of us. Ye believing ye can never marry and me refusing to.” He grinned
, a little lopsided, and she felt a tug on her heart.

“Precisely the reason I wish to make love. There is no one I’d rather share such intimacy with.” And no one who promised to be so delightful at it. Just his touch, the press of his lips on hers had her quivering. What would it be like if he were to take it a step further?

“Julianna, I confess to the same desire… And believe me when I say I’ve had to restrain myself. Ye are exquisite, everything I’ve ever dreamed of.”

“And yet…” she urged, wanting to hear the whole of it.

“I have too much respect for ye to take ye like a common woman upon the floor.”

“Let there be no doubt
—I’d not let ye take me like a common woman.”

Ronan raised a brow in question.

“I would let ye take me like the woman I am—a noble warrior.”

She watched with fascination as he swallowed—her words having affected him greatly.

“Will your brother kill me?” he whispered, pulling her hand to his lips.

“Likely
, if he were to find out.”

“Who is your brother?”

Julianna averted her gaze. If she were to tell him, Ronan would toss her on her horse and demand they return to Eilean Donan at once. “Not someone I want to be thinking of right now.”

Ronan frowned at that,
lightly bit her pointer knuckle. “Why will ye not tell me?”

Sooner or later, Ronan would figure it out, but she didn’t want to
talk about it right now. “I will tell ye when we return on the morrow.”

“As he runs me through for taking what isn’t mine?”

Hearing him say the word
taking
brought to mind all the things she’d fantasized about doing with him…

“
Ye canna take what has already been freely given, Ronan. But I assure ye, I willna be running to tell him. And I’ll not be begging for your hand.”

“I’m not certain if I should be offended or not.”

“Why would ye be offended?”

Ronan winked. “Most lasses beg for
more after having me in their beds.”

A teasing glint
entered his eyes and Julianna loved seeing his lighter side. He was such a strong and powerful man. Serious, deadly. Gentle when caring for her wound, passionate when kissing and touching her. To see him tease was just another side of him that plucked at her heart.

“That confident?”
she teased back.

“Oh, aye.” He leaned forward, just a breath away and whispered, “
I can make ye beg too.”

A heated flush swept from the top of her head down to her toes. Her thigh pained her no more. She was sure he
could make her plead. Hadn’t she already begged him to make love to her a few times now? The man had every right to be confident.

“Prove it,” she countered.

Ronan grinned wickedly. “I love a challenge.”

Before she could respond, he licked her lower lip, tugged it with his teeth. Frissons of hot desire fired, pooling at her center. Dear Lord, she refused to
supplicate.

Maybe she should make him be the one who pleaded for more. Aye, that sounded like an excellent choice. Julianna captured Ronan’s tongue between her teeth, sucked it into her mouth. He growled, a deep vibrating noise that caused her sex to clench. Stroking up her arms, he gently massaged her shoulders, her back, the sides of her ribs—and then the undersides of her breasts.

Her nipples were hard, taut, aching for his touch, but he didn’t go near them. Instead drove her crazy by stroking everywhere else. He was good…very good. They’d barely gotten anywhere and already she was melting. Now she knew why those few women at the castle ran after him panting.

Who knew what the future held
? She dared not think on it another moment. Tonight he was all hers.

Julianna gently broke their kiss, pushed hi
m back and sat up on her knees, winced slightly at the sting in her thigh. Without taking her eyes from his, she unhooked the belt at her waist, took her time to undress. Peeling away every inch of fabric slowly, seductively. Watched his eyes widen, then grow heavy. His chest rose and fell at a faster pace. As much as he wanted to remain in control, his desire grew with each peel of her clothing. Julianna tossed her gown aside, knelt in just her chemise, realized how threadbare it was, that her hardened nipples jutted against the fabric, that each dusky circle was clearly visible. Ronan’s eyes were riveted to the spot, and she wasted no time in taking advantage of that. She arched her back slightly, and then took hold of the ribbons at the center of her chest.

“Wait,” Ronan said, his voice gruff. “Let me.”

Julianna stilled her fingers and waited. He took hold of the ribbons between his thumb and forefinger. Tugging slowly, the sound of the ties swishing as they loosened seemed to echo in the room. He rose to his knees, so they faced each other, both kneeling.

Heart pounding in her ears, Julianna found it hard to breath
e. She was nearly naked. But felt completely exposed. Her chemise untied, the sides fell apart nearly to her navel, exposing the expanse of her cleavage. Ronan ran a finger from the dip in her throat, down through the valley of her breasts to her belly. Julianna drank in a breath, sucked in her belly. Her skin pebbled and she shivered.

“Ye’re softer than I imagined,” Ronan whispered. He leaned forward and kissed her collarbone. Trailed his lips, nuzzling her as he went, down between her breasts.
His fingers gently traced the lines of a scar above her breast, once again taking away her breath. A knife wound three years prior. “I had thought ye’d be taut, rough, but ye’re not.” He sounded amazed. “When ye dropped the plaid this morn, I was amazed to see such femininity.” He touched another one on her shoulder, a mace, its jagged points had dug deep and hurt like hell.

“Did ye think me masculine?” she asked, starting to feel a little self-conscious.
Her fingers rested on his shoulders and she leaned more of her weight onto her uninjured thigh.

“Nay, never.
But ye’re so strong. I just didna think a woman could be strong and…sensual. But ye’ve proven me wrong. About so many things. Even your scars. They tell a story of a woman full of strength and bravery. I admire ye.”

Heat flushed her cheeks and she looked away, not sure how she was supposed to take his words. Ronan lifted her chin with a finger, forcing her to look at him.

“My words still hold true. Ye’re a prize. A treasure that walks amongst us. A goddess, Julianna. None of us have realized what an honor it’s been to be in your presence. And not just because of this gift ye’re giving me. I’m—” He shook his head. “I’m no good with words, my lady.”

Her heart skipped a beat.
“But ye are.”

Julianna pressed her palms to his face, feeling the stubble on his cheeks tickle her skin.

“I’ve never talked so much to another woman. I feel a fool.”

Julianna laughed softly. “Again, ye’re in good company.
Enough talking. Now kiss me.”

Ronan pulled her taut against him, hands wrapped around her waist
, and brushed his lips over hers. He was gentle at first, as if testing the waters. It was sensual, slow, their tongues melded and stroked as though they had all the time in the world to taste one another.

Julianna gripped the back of his
leine
shirt and tugged it free from his plaid, splayed her hands on the bare muscles surrounding his spine. Knotted scars laced his back and met her fingertips. Battle wounds. The sign of a true warrior. He was warm, sinew, pure strength. It was as though her touch ignited something inside him. He took her mouth with thrilling vigor. Oh, this was the Ronan she knew, the power and passion behind his kiss that made her weak and strong at the same time.

While she ran her hands up along his spine, dug into his shoulders, Ronan too continued his exploration. He hooked his thumbs into her chemise and tugged it over her shoulders and down her arms, trapping her. Excitement filled her, consumed her.
He was no squire. Ronan knew just how to touch her to make her sigh and they’d barely done more than kiss. Or maybe it was the way he breathed. Every caress, his scent, his very being.

Julianna tugged his shirt the rest of the way from his plaid, so she could feel his abdomen—another rippling expanse of tight, masculine muscle.
When she splayed her hands over his bare chest, Ronan hissed a breath against her lips.

“Och, lass…” he murmured, trailing his lips from hers to form a provocative path along her chin and neck.

Where his lips touched, she burned. She wanted him to feel the same way. Julianna pressed her temple to his shoulder and her lips to his corded neck. Another hiss of breath came from Ronan. He licked at her flesh, and she mimicked the moves, the tip of her tongue darting against his salty flesh, before she pressed her lips there for a gentle suck. His scent invaded her nostrils and did something odd to her insides. ‘Twas as if, just the scent of him could leave her undone.

Before she could ponder more on how much he fascinated her—more so than anyone she’d ever met—Ronan cupped her breasts and brushed his thumbs over her taut nipples.

Julianna gasped, thrust her chest forward, filling his hands more fully with her breasts. He was warm, and yet she was covered with puckered flesh and chills swept through her at an alarming rate. Coupling with the squire had been fun, exciting, but never had he elicited this sort of response from her. Making love to Ronan was an entirely different experience, one she could see why women begged for more. If it weren’t for the fact that she’d sworn not to do it, she might be indeed begging already.