Behind the Plaid (28 page)

Was it the man who’d sent the ship full of shackles? I closed my eyes, wishing I could sink into the wall and pretend I wasn’t hearing this.
I’d been living in a fantasy since arriving at Gealach.

A heated, torrential fantasy. As if in answer, my nipples hardened.

Chapter Twenty-One

Emma

L
ogan and Ewan discussed the man in the dungeon for what seemed like hours but in reality was probably only ten minutes or longer. Their voices grew hushed as they made their plans, and my limbs grew numb as I made every effort to shove myself into the wall.

And then my fingers pushed a little harder and the wall gave way. A silent give, a whisper of sound. And I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood, sure that Logan would have heard the noise or sensed that something had changed. But he didn’t. Or he pretended not to. I couldn’t be sure. We’d develop
ed a sixth sense when it came to each other. Bleeding lip and trembling fingers, I pushed further against the stone which had given way, feeling a cool rush of air flutter my sleeve.

A secret door? Once the stone pressed as far as it was willing to go, I stopped and waited. Sure that by now Logan would have noticed something. Anything. I imagined the tapestry I hid behind
, whipping aside as he tore it from the iron hinges it hung from. The hinges rattling within the stones it’d been drilled into. Plaster, wood and candles falling and crashing around me. Logan gripping me by the hair and dragging me up to my room.

Would he ever do something so hurtful to me? So violent? He may torture me with pleasure, swat me playfully on my ass, but would he
really hurt me like Steven had?

A resounding
No
echoed in my ears and I was instantly ashamed for even thinking he would do something like that. Logan was worlds apart from Steven. A better man by far. Superior in all things. I hoped that at some point my mind wouldn’t automatically go there; instead, I could think more positively, especially where Logan was concerned.

I could see his stormy eyes
in my mind, locked on me, studying me. Deep emotion, possession filled those eyes when he looked at me. Not violence. My thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of the men’s boots fading away. Probably to go deal with their murderer in the dungeons. I hoped that Logan would listen to Ewan. If he was supposed to be waiting for a message from the king, that would be the best thing. I would never profess to be an expert, but these were violent times and I knew I wasn’t wrong in remembering that lords who ignored their kings were often beheaded for it.

Logan was passionate, but calculating. I didn’t think he’d act on a whim, could control himself even if in a rage.

I turned around to examine the stone wall, darker back here behind the tapestry. Indeed one stone was pressed a good four inches into the wall. I reached in and patted around, meeting dust and crumbling rock, but then my finger fell into a crevice and caught on an iron hook of some sort. I tugged, felt a release from the hook and another soundless whoosh of air—hard enough it blew my hair—as the wall sank in completely. A three feet wide by seven feet tall doorway.

My mouth fell open. Secret passageways were the stuff of fairy tales, and here I was seeing a stone wall sink in on itself in the shape of a door. Gealach had many locked normal doors, never had I suspected I’d find an unlocked false door. I listened carefully for voices or footsteps and upon hearing none I pressed both hands to the stones and pushed. The door swung in on itself revealing a darkened stair leading down. Shadows crept from inside the secret passage, threatening to take my sanity down to unknown depths. Where did it lead? To the dungeon? Not a place I wanted to go. Ever. Especially not in the dark.

I pulled the stone door closed, amazed by its heavy power and the ability it had to make me shiver in fear. I didn’t believe in ghosts necessarily, but I did believe in nightmares. That passage swelled with them. Closing the door, I felt rather than heard the iron hook clink closed and then the stone which had initially pressed in on itself sucked back into place. Once again the door was concealed by the wall, and I would probably never find it again. Perfectly obscure.

Wiping the sweat that somehow managed to bead on my upper lip when I wasn’t paying attention, I backed away from the wall and out from behind the tapestry. My eyes were riveted on the one I’d chosen to duck behind. The image of a great king
, a heavily jeweled gold crown upon his head, bestowing a gift to knight who knelt at his feet. A wooden box with a large golden lock and gilded corners. The knight was covered in regalia, a beautiful red and green plaid, a gleaming sword on his back and another at his hips. Even from the woven wool I could see the way his boots were meant to shine. A wealthy knight. The king looked familiar. An image I’d seen in history books, or perhaps on my visits to the castle. I couldn’t recall if this particular tapestry had hung in the hall when I visited, but it captured my attention now.

A powerful message that those who occupied G
ealach were allies of the king and vice versa. A message that would sink through the hearts of anyone who dared to step into this hall with a nefarious purpose. A shiver stole over me, and I was quick to rub my arms. But even the heat created by the friction did not warm me.

The king has entrusted in me not only a treasure but a secret.
Logan’s words rang in my memory. He was guardian to Scotland but also to a gift the king had given him. Was Logan the kneeling knight? It didn’t look like him. Logan had dark hair and this knight’s hair was made to look reddish brown. Who then was it? Had someone else guarded a treasure before Logan?

I glanced down at the floor, my eyes skimming toward the place where my feet had been safely hidden behind the tapestry. The secret door was conveniently placed behind a tapestry showing the king giving a gift. Did that passage lead to the treasure Logan spoke of? If I summoned the courage and descended those stairs would I see a great glittering treasure? What was in that sleek box with the gold lock? Did it even look like that?

“Emma.”

I whirled around, coming face to face with Logan. Tall, powerful. He stood in the center of the room, commanding even the air to
bend. I opened my mouth to issue some excuse as to why I was in the great hall instead of my room, but the only thing that came out was a breath of air.

“Do ye like the tapestry?” He stalked closer, making me feel like I was his prey.

I turned back to look at the vibrant tones of wool and nodded.

“What do ye see?”

He stood beside me, his heat enveloping me, taking away the chills I’d had before only to replace them with wicked shudders along my spine.

“A king giving a gift.”

He chuckled. “Aye, that is true. But what do ye really see?”

I stared once more, trying to figure out a way to say what I saw that wouldn’t have Logan dragging me down to share a cell with the murderer in the dungeon.

“I see… secrets.”

A large hand flattened to the base of my spine, his thumb rubbing gently over a single vertebra.

“Me, too. Do ye know who the vassal is?”

I shook my head, sinking closer to his side. Torrid heat licked its way up and down my legs, slicking between my thighs. Just his light touch did that to me.

“’Tis supposed to be my sire.”

“Your father?” I couldn’t truly see a resemblance. Maybe the arch of the brow. The size of the man.

Logan pressed a finger to my chin, tilting my face toward his. “Aye. And that is a gift that needed protection.” His eyes glittered into mine.

I glanced around to make sure we were alone and then w
hispered, “Is it the treasure you told me of?”

Logan shrugged. “’Haps.” But he didn’t say anymore and I was too scared to press him. “How long have ye been here?”

“Not long.”

He grinned, a lopsided curve of his lips. “Liar.”

So he had seen me hiding. I squared my shoulders. “I never lie.”

He leaned close, his firm, warm lips brushing the shell of my ear. A violent shiver raged throughout my body. “Are ye looking for another punishment?”

I swallowed hard.
Yes. No
. I just wanted him to touch me.

“Tell me what ye heard?” he said, his tongue flicking over my earlobe before his teeth took its place.
“I can sense when ye’re near.”

I whimpered, then managed to say, “A murderer.”

“Naughty, lass, listening in on others.” He swept me up into his arms, oblivious to his surroundings, and thank goodness there was no one to witness him storming up the stairs, his hold on me commanding and gentle at the same time. Logan’s mouth claimed mine in a thoroughly brutal and arousing kiss.

He slammed open the door to a chamber that was not my own, and just as quickly slammed it shut.

“Ye are safe with me. Ye know that, aye?”

I nodded, taking in the stark masculinity of his room, the magnificent bed
, easily twice the size of my own, and had matching etchings on the four posts. Intricate details.

Logan placed me down beside the bed. “I willna cut this gown,” he murmured as he kissed the nape of my
neck and slowly untied the bodice. I shivered, sighed, reached out to touch him but he batted my hands away. My gown fell in a puddle at my feet and my chemise, he slipped off my shoulders, allowing it to fall, too. I was naked. I shivered, nipples hardening to aching points, but I wasn’t cold.

I was hotter than hell and wanted desperately to wrap my legs around this huge hunk of Highlander and let him have his way with me.
Thank goodness for the lemon still in place.

Logan was slow in his seduction, trailing kisses along the nape of my neck over my shoulders, bringing my arm up to kiss me from my wrist to the inside of my elbow. I shifted on my feet unable to stand still.
Moisture pooled between my quivering thighs. I clenched in torment, waiting for him to stroke me.

“I’ve never brought a woman to my chamber before,” he confessed. His tongue flicked out to run around the edge of pink surrounding my nipple. “Not one, until ye, Emma.
They’ve all been bedded in the chamber beside this one.”

I could hardly concentrate on his words, the depth of their meaning, when he drew my nipple into his mouth. I cried out, wanting so badly for this to have happened for hours. This time, he didn’t stop me from pushing my hands into his hair, holding his mouth hostage to my breast.

“Do ye understand, Emma?”

I nodded, knowing that I could
n’t be the only one who’d experienced the changes to my heart. “I’m yours,” I murmured, and managed to back up until my thighs hit the bed. I scooted onto his mattress, legs apart and beckoned him to me. “Take me, Logan.”

His eyes riveted between my thighs, taking in what I offered. Barren of hair, I knew he’d see the slick juices of my desire covering my sex, probably could see it seeping out as my yearning only grew the longer he stared.

“Aye. Mine.”

He
stood between my legs, his brawny thighs pushing mine further apart. I ran my hands down the length of his corded torso, feeling the muscles flex beneath his shirt. But I didn’t have to ask him to take it off. Logan literally ripped his shirt away, tearing it down the center, revealing the lines of his chest from his collarbone to his navel. The hottest thing I’d ever seen. A man so eager for my touch, so eager to get himself inside me, that he was tearing his clothes away. I gripped his belt, but he pushed my hands away and shook his head.

“Lie back.”

I did as he demanded, and watched with wide, hungry eyes as he slowly unhooked his belt, letting the leather fall to the bed. His plaid unraveled, falling to the floor and revealing the gloriously thick length of his cock. I licked my lips, eager for another taste. If he wanted me to suck him first, I’d do it any day. My thoughts must have been visible because he shook his head, a wicked grin playing at his lips.

“Not this time, lass.”

He slid his large palms over my naked hips, my ribs and then turned me so my head rested on his pillows.

“Put your arms over your head.”

Without question, I did what he asked, lifting my arms above my head on the pillows, my chest arched, breasts quivering with each rapid intake of breath. He knelt between my thighs and picked up his leather belt. My mind was a whirl of thoughts. What was he going to do with that belt?