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Authors: Connie Mason

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BOOK: A Breath of Scandal
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He reared up, his big, dark body looming over her, his nostrils flared. “Lara,” he said in a strident whisper. “You’re mine. All mine.”

“I’ve always been yours, Julian.”

He gave no hint of having heard her as he slipped his hands beneath her buttocks and positioned her against his hot, smooth tip.

“Put me inside you,” he groaned. “Guide me to heaven.”

Her hand fastened around his staff, bringing him to her entrance. She heard his breath rasp against her ear as he eased into her moist sheath, stretching her, filling her with his heat and strength, until he was buried so deep she felt as if he’d pierced her soul.

“I can’t remember when I’ve been this hard,” Julian gasped. Gazing deeply into her eyes, he raised himself up on his arms and thrust. In and out, increasing his tempo until they were both gasping and breathless.

She clutched at his back and wrapped her legs around his wildly undulating hips. She sucked in a breath and drew him deeper. He pumped harder, faster, each thrust taking her higher and higher, until she was nearly incoherent with exquisite pleasure.

He dipped his head, his mouth catching her abandoned cries of delight she hadn’t even realized she was making. Sensations were mounting, piling one on top of the other as she strained toward a peak that dangled temptingly within reach. Then those sensations burst through her, over her, inside her, in a shattering crescendo of whirling colors and rapturous ecstasy.

“I love you, Julian!”

If Julian heard, he gave no indication, for he was hurtling toward his own climax. She felt him stiffen, heard the harsh rasp of his breath, and felt the wet heat of his seed explode inside her.

Afterward they slept. She woke sometime during the night and felt Julian’s hands slide across her stomach and dip down between her legs. Without hesitation she turned into his arms, letting him love her again.

Julian awoke first the follow morning. He stretched and smiled. He couldn’t recall when he’d been so hungry, or felt so well. His mouth watered at the thought of eggs, a rasher of bacon, kidneys, and hot coffee. He bathed, shaved, and dressed without waking Lara and quietly left the chamber. The family was gathered in the hall, eating breakfast when he arrived.

“Where’s Lara?” Christy asked with a hint of amusement.

“Still sleeping,” Julian replied with appalling male arrogance. “She didn’t sleep well last night.”

Sinjun gave a loud guffaw. “And whose fault was that, I wonder?”

“I really like Lara, Julian,” Emma said shyly. “Please don’t hurt her.”

Julian frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I … you’re gone so much, and, well …”

“Out with it, Emma.”

“Quit badgering my wife, Julian,” Rudy said, placing a protective arm around Emma.

“What’s the argument about?”

Everyone swiveled around as Lara walked into the hall and seated herself beside Julian.

“I thought you were sleeping,” Julian said.

“I was, but I woke up when you left the chamber.”

Julian slid a warning glance at Emma. “There is no argument, sweeting.”

Just then Mary shuffled into the hall and set a steaming bowl before Julian. “What’s this?” Julian asked, frowning at the glutinous mass quivering before him. Certainly not breakfast.

“Oats, me fine lord,” Mary said gleefully. “If yer brother can eat them, so can ye.”

Sinjun covered his laughter with a cough as Julian cocked an eyebrow at him. “I don’t like oats,” Julian said.

Mary grinned, apparently enjoying Julian’s discomfort. “Neither did yer brother but he learned to like them.”

“Try them,” Lara urged. “I find them fortifying. I’ll have a bowl, Mary.”

Beaming, Mary returned to the kitchen for Lara’s oats. Julian glared at her departing back as he dipped his spoon in the bowl and brought it to his mouth. He did his best not to gag as the oats slid down his throat but lost the battle.

“I’m accustomed to something more substantial,” Julian complained.

“Come now, Julian, they’re not that bad,” Sinjun chided. “They grow on one when they’re served every day. I’ve even grown to like bannocks.”

“Thank God I’ll soon be returning to London and a civilized breakfast of eggs, kidneys, toasted bread and bacon.”

He swallowed another mouthful with difficulty and grimaced. Julian had nearly finished the entire bowl of oats when Mary returned. She set down a plate of eggs and bacon in front of Julian and whisked away the empty bowl.

“Ye’ll do, Yer Lordship,” Mary said with smug satisfaction. “Yer brother dinna do nearly as good the first time as ye did. Enjoy yer eggs.” Still grinning, she shuffled back to the kitchen.

Sinjun and Christy burst into laughter. “You passed the test, Julian,” Sinjun said, wiping tears from his eyes. “It took me a bit longer.”

Mary appeared a moment later with a bowl of oats for Lara. “Would ye like some eggs, Lara?”

Lara looked at Julian’s eggs and felt her stomach turn over. She had to look away quickly else she’d be forced to leave the table. She took a deep breath to steady her queasy stomach and shook her head.

“The oats is all I’ll require this morning, Mary, thanks anyway.” Lara managed to swallow two spoonfuls before she pushed the bowl aside.

Christy must have taken note of her sudden loss of appetite. “Perhaps tea and toasted bread would suit you this morning, Lara.”

Lara’s sent Christy a grateful look. “I believe it would.” Margot started to rise. “Finish your breakfast, Margot, I’ll get it myself.”

Julian leaned over and asked, “Are you all right? Was I too rough on you last night?”

Lara sent him a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, Julian. I never eat much breakfast.” She slid her chair back. “I’ll be right back. I’m sure Mary won’t mind if I invade her kitchen.”

Christy rose. “I’ll come with you. Mary may not be in the kitchen and you don’t know where things are kept.”

After they left the hall, Christy placed a hand on Lara’s arm. “What is it, Lara? You look a little peckish this morning. Did Julian hurt you last night?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” Lara assured her. “Julian would never hurt me. My stomach is somewhat queasy this morning, but I doubt it has anything to do with my wedding night.”

Christy gave her a knowing look. “I recall that feeling. You’re increasing, aren’t you?”

“It’s possible,” Lara admitted. “I hope you don’t think ill of me. You see, Julian and I have been married for many weeks now. We were wed according to Rom tradition and lived as man and wife even though Julian refused to acknowledge our marriage. It really hurt when he left me, as if I meant nothing to him. I was a Gypsy wench, not worthy of his exalted name.”

“Sinjun already told me a little of your history together, but I didn’t know Julian left you at the Gypsy camp.”

Lara sighed, indulging in a generous dose of self-pity. “Julian never intended for us to meet again. We met by accident in London.”

“When are you going to tell Julian about the baby?”

“When I’m sure,” Lara hedged.

“Very well, I’ll keep your secret,” Christy vowed. “I wasn’t honest with Sinjun, either, and it nearly cost me my marriage. Keep that in mind.”

They entered the kitchen. “Ah, Mary is in the kitchen after all,” Christy said. “We’ll talk later.”

Everyone but Sinjun and Julian drifted away from the hall after Lara and Christy left the table.

“Lara looks pale this morning, brother,” Sinjun chided. “Did she get any rest at all last night?”

Julian had the grace to flush. “I may have been a little rough on her, but she didn’t complain.”

Sinjun rolled his eyes. “I doubt there’s a woman in the world who would complain about being made love to by a Thornton.”

“Speak for yourself, Sinjun,” Julian said curtly. “I’m not the notorious rake and womanizer you are.”

Sinjun laughed. “Those days are gone forever. Would you like to ride out with me today? I need to make sure the villagers are prepared for winter. New thatch was put on the roofs and the cottages repaired last year, but I want to check on their needs before the first snow arrives.”

“You’re a good landlord, Sinjun,” Julian said. “I’m proud of you. I’ll be ready to join you as soon as I tell Lara I’m leaving.”

High on a hill above Glenmoor, a dozen men crouched behind boulders, spying on the castle.

“Are ye sure Scorpion is here, Crockett?”

“The Jackal assured me that we’d find him and his woman at Glenmoor, Dorks,” Crockett said. “That stupid Lord Stanhope is so worried about his daughter that he doesn’t have an inkling he’s been feeding information to the Jackal. He knew we’d find them with the gypsies, and we did. Unfortunately Scorpion escaped before we got to him. The Highlands is the one place Scorpion believes himself safe.” He snorted. “Little does he know.”

“We ain’t seen hide nor hair of him,” Dorks complained. “He ain’t left that damn fortress.”

“Patience, Dorks. He can’t leave without us seeing him.”

“Then what?”

Crockett grinned. “Then we kill him.”

Chapter 16
 

“T
hose fat sheep grazing on your land are a tribute to you, Sinjun,” Julian said as he scanned the hillsides with an eye toward profit. “I’m also impressed with the horses you raise here. My mount is a particularly fine animal. You’ve done well, brother.”

“That’s a compliment coming from you, Julian,” Sinjun replied. “One day my children will inherit all this. And Christy’s clansmen will never fear hunger again. I was a selfish, hedonistic fool for neglecting my duty all those years when I prowled London as Lord Sin. Thank God Christy turned me around before I became a lost cause.”

“We should both be grateful to Christy,” Julian agreed. “She convinced Lara to marry me. How far to the village?”

“Not far.”

“Can I have a closer look at the sheep first? Wool is bringing a high price in London.”

“Of course. You won’t find finer sheep anywhere in Scotland,” Sinjun bragged.

* * *

“What the hell are they doing?” Dorks asked as he watched Julian and Sinjun veer off in another direction. “We’ve waited days for Scorpion to show himself, and now he’s riding away from us.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get him,” Crockett snarled. “Pass the word to the men. They’re to arm themselves and be ready to ride at a moment’s notice.”

“What about the other one? The brother?”

“Kill him,” Crockett ordered. “The Jackal don’t want no witnesses.”

After inspecting the sheep, Julian and Sinjun continued on to the village. “Your wool is of prime quality, Sinjun,” Julian said. “Glenmoor appears to be in good shape financially now that you’re no longer gambling or supporting an expensive mistress. My lectures must have gotten through to you.”

Suddenly Sinjun’s shoulders stiffened. “We have visitors.”

Julian glanced up and saw a dozen riders heading toward them. They were close, too close, and coming fast. “They don’t look especially friendly.”

“They’re not clansmen,” Sinjun bit out. “Are you expecting company, Julian?”

Julian’s lips flattened. “They must be the Jackal’s henchmen. We can’t fight them all, Sinjun. I suggest we run while we can.”

Turning their mounts, they galloped full tilt back to Glenmoor. But they had waited too long. “They’re nearly upon us,” Julian yelled over the din of pounding hooves.

A loud report disturbed the silence. Moments later a bullet whizzed past Julian’s ear. “Bloody hell, they have flintlocks, and all we have between us are a pistol and a pair of short swords. Head back to the castle.”

The castle was ahead of them, and Julian feared they would be cut down before they could reach their safe haven. The last thing he had wanted was to bring trouble to his brother and the Macdonalds. But it appeared that’s exactly what he’d done. Both he and Sinjun were bent low over their horses’ withers, trying to make as small a target as possible as they made a hasty retreat.

“We aren’t done for yet, Julian,” Sinjun yelled as another bullet flew dangerously close. “Look!”

Julian raised his head a fraction and saw a dozen or more Macdonald clansmen spilling out of the castle gate, wielding sufficient weapons to discourage the devil.

“ ’Tis Rory and Gavin, leading some of their kinsmen,” Sinjun said gleefully. “The guards patrolling the ramparts have seen us and sent out help.”

The clansmen galloped past them to meet the enemy. Rory shot them a grin in passing. Both Julian and Sinjun wheeled their mounts to join in the fray.

When Crockett saw the fearsome band of savage Highlanders riding toward them, screaming a battle cry, he motioned for a full retreat. Turning tail, he and his men rode back into the hills, losing themselves in the thick trees, gorse and rocks.

“We’ll never find them up there,” Sinjun said, bringing the Highlanders to a halt.

Rory rode up to join them. “We routed them this time but ye ken ’twill happen again if ye go out without an escort. The bastards seem determined.” He gave Julian a hard look. “Do ye expect them to give up and leave?”

Julian gave a snort of disgust. “Not bloody likely. But you’re right about one thing. The bastards are determined to kill me. I left the Gypsies to avoid placing them in danger and I can do no less for my family. They’ll keep plaguing Glenmoor and the clan until they have what they came after. Me.”

“You’re not going anywhere, Julian,” Sinjun argued. “There are enough Macdonalds, Camerons, and Mackenzies to protect you and Lara.”

“At what cost?” Julian charged.

Sinjun smiled. “Look around you, brother. Who in their right mind would want to do battle with a tribe of savage Highlanders? They’re a warrior clan, and itching for a good fight.”

Julian had to agree. The huge Scotsmen were indeed a ferocious lot. The assortment of battleaxes, claymores, swords, and flintlock rifles they wielded made them appear even more bloodthirsty than they probably were.

“You’re right, Sinjun. With this lot behind us we have nothing to fear.”

They encountered no more interference as they continued on to the village. Julian was impressed with Sinjun’s easy way with the villagers and their friendliness toward him. His roguish brother had come a long way from his sinful past.

BOOK: A Breath of Scandal
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