Cait and the Devil (28 page)

* * * * *

Cait
walked heavily up the hill to the orchard. It seemed an age ago that she’d snuck here to get his attention and ended up turned over his lap. Silly, childish games, she thought, from when she was still young and innocent. She was not innocent now. She never would be again.

Duncan knew it. He didn’t even want her anymore, now that she was so used. He didn’t deign to even touch her. In bed, he held himself away even though he soothed her fears. He probably wished she’d move back into her old room and not plague him with nightmares all night long, but she couldn’t sleep so far away from him. She would put up with his carefully cultivated distance, with his restrained touch, if only to sleep there next to him and know he was only an arm’s length away.

As she drew nearer to her favored tree, she looked over at Desmond. He bit his lip and avoided her gaze. Even her guards tiptoed around her now. Before, he would have warned her that her husband didn’t like her climbing up in trees. Now he just frowned and kept his silence. Their behavior—Duncan’s, Henna’s, her guards’—did nothing more than remind
her what
had happened, again and again. She scowled, looking away from him.

Only
Edana
treated her like a real person since her return, and she was gone now.
Edana
.
She couldn’t call her
mother
, and she didn’t think
Edana
wanted her to. She was not much like a mother anyway, more like a wise friend. She had made
Cait
feel for the first time that she was not worthless, that she was not ugly and unwanted. She looked like
Edana
, and
Edana
was truly beautiful, so she must be too, at least a little. And
Edana
, her mother, was a great priestess. At least some of that intelligence and poise must run in her veins.

“Don’t forget that you have great power of your own, my love,”
Edana
had told her.

“Power?
What kind of power?”
Cait
asked doubtfully.

“The power of a warm and innocent heart.
I am not innocent, nor could I ever be, but you have the ability to look at the world through clear eyes, unfiltered by guise and pride and scheming. It is a gift, my dear, and not many have it.”

“It doesn’t do me much good, honestly.”

Edana
had laughed at that, but it was true. She looked through her clear eyes at her husband, but he avoided her gaze. She looked at Henna and she skittered away. She looked at her guards and they averted their eyes. No one wanted to see what was there.

So be it. She would have a baby to care for soon. Her baby would love to stare into her eyes and smile and tug at her hair as she’d seen the other babies do to their mamas. Her baby wouldn’t know or care what Lord Douglas had done to her.

She reached the tree she loved most, with all the good broad branches for climbing. She could sit low and still feel she was hidden in a secret place, or she could climb high and be safely supported by the strong boughs. She felt like really climbing high today.

Desmond cleared his throat as she hoisted herself up into the cradle of the twisted trunk to climb onto the first branch.

“Lady, you should not climb in your...your condition.”

“I can climb just fine.”

“Your husband will not like it.”

“Won’t he? Then he can come and get me down.”
If he cares about me, let him come.

She didn’t climb as high as she might have, because Desmond was eyeing her, coughing and frowning and scowling the higher she climbed. She made herself comfortable in a seat between two large boughs and looked around. She could see the keep, the grounds, everything from this vantage point. Spring had not quite arrived, no leaves yet bloomed.

“Can you see me, Desmond, or do the branches hide me?”

“I can see you fine, ma’am.” He frowned up at her, muttering something about how it would be
his
neck if she fell, just loudly enough for her to hear. Well, she would not fall. She was an expert climber. She had been her entire life. She’d been raised in a forest, she wanted to remind him, but she kept her silence.

She sat for several minutes looking around, wishing there were apples to pick, before she noticed Duncan start across the field. She probably could have eaten a dozen apples. Her appetite lately was unmatched. But there weren’t any now, nor any green leaves to hide
herself
, so she just waited and watched through the branches as her husband came near.

He was so comely, so handsome. Even the way he walked affected her. She remembered him crossing the bedroom to her with that walk. Intent, strong, focused. He looked a lot like Lord Douglas, but at the same time, nothing like him, because his eyes were so kind. Even now, when his face looked angry, his eyes were gentle, not cold and horrid like his father’s.

When he arrived, he dismissed Desmond with some short words and crossed his arms, glaring up from under the tree. “Come down, Caitlyn.
Immediately.”

She should obey, shouldn’t she? She looked down at him, at his broad shoulders, his stern expression.

“I don’t really want to. I like it up here.”

“That may be so, but if you do not climb down from that tree this instant I will spank your disobedient bottom, six months pregnant or not.”

She shifted on the hard branch. He hadn’t touched her like that in weeks. He hadn’t spanked her or caressed her or given her his seed. She swung her legs and picked at some bark.

“If you want me, I suppose you can climb up here and haul me down.”

He frowned so darkly that
Cait
had the sudden urge to giggle. Laughing at him now probably wouldn’t be wise. Perhaps she had already gone too far, but she didn’t care.

“Caitlyn, do not test me. If that branch breaks and you fall—”

“It is a strong branch. That’s why I picked this place to sit.”

“You will not be sitting anywhere in a few minutes,” he muttered. “You will find it impossible to sit.”

“Will I?”
Cait
sighed. “I much prefer sitting here to coming down there and getting my bottom spanked. If you want me to come down, you might have to bargain with me.” She could almost hear him grinding his teeth. “I might come down if you promise to hold me,” she offered softly. His chest rose and fell. He looked at her with a look she didn’t understand. “Why don’t you hold me anymore, Duncan?”

“I do hold you.”

“Not like you did before. You hold me like something that’s fragile. Like something that’s already broken beyond repair.”

“That’s not true,” he said, but then fell quiet. His arms uncrossed and he put them on his hips in frustration.

“Come down, right now!”

“No! Come and get me.”

With a curse he hiked himself into the tree.
Cait
watched half alarmed and half delighted as he scaled the branches more quickly than she ever could. He hauled himself to a stout bough just below her and looked hard into her eyes.

“I miss you, Duncan,” she whispered.

He took her in his arms and kissed her. She moaned. She didn’t mean to, but to feel him really
touch
her again was almost too much to bear. Her soft pleading sounds seemed to inflame him, and his hands roved over her restlessly.

“
Cait
...” he sighed when they finally parted.

“Do you still love me, Duncan? I want to be your true wife, like I was before.
If you still want me.”

His gaze seared her. She thought he might take her right there in the cold branches of the tree. She would have welcomed him without complaint. But he began to climb down impatiently.

“Come with me.
Now.
To the room.”

He jumped to the ground and practically yanked her out of the tree, leading her back to the keep at an unforgiving pace. When she became winded, he lifted her in his arms and carried her. She clung to his neck, breathing in his manly scent. Up in his room, he let her down and she felt suddenly shy under his gaze. But she was determined to please him, to make him want her again the way he used to.

“Undress,” he said. “Show yourself to me.”

Cait
complied, but she was conscious of the changes in her body, the pronounced bump at her waistline where she could feel the baby move sometimes, a flutter in her middle. Duncan came to her, running his hands over her new shape.

“The baby grows.”

“Yes.”

“It is a beautiful look for you. I hope... I hope...”

He looked troubled. She reached for him. “I’m not afraid of bearing this babe. I’m more afraid of that spanking you threatened.”

He smiled and pointed to the bed, taking off his clothes.

“You should be afraid. You will get a spanking, but...my God.
First things first.
Lie down, wife.”

She laid back and he came over her, kissing her passionately. He grasped her hands in his and pulled them over her head so she felt completely and totally controlled. Not controlled...
safe
. He wouldn’t let go. She could feel his hard cock pressing against her, but she wanted it, she craved it. She thought for a moment of Lord Douglas pressing against her, forcing his way into her. This was not at all the same, although Duncan looked down at her worriedly.

“Okay?”

“Yes,” she breathed.
Yes, please, please. Take me.

“If I hurt you,” he said, “let me know.”

He was simply insane with desire. He wanted to plunge inside her violently, reclaiming her, making her his own. She sighed and moaned so sweetly under him. How had he resisted her charms for so long?

She wanted him.
She wanted him.
She clearly wanted him every bit as much as she had before. Why had he waited? Why had he denied himself? He wouldn’t deny either of them a second more. He slid inside her slowly, inch by inch, reveling in the feeling of possessing her again. “Okay?”

In answer, she shifted closer, arching against him. “Please, please...”

He withdrew and surged forward more deeply, drawing from her a shuddering moan. His free hand roved over her, cupping her breasts, bringing the dark pink nipples to his lips to suck and tease. She was so intense, so alive under him. He reached down to cup her bottom, to hold her fast for his demanding thrusts.

“Okay?” he rasped.

Her stifled groan signaled that she was as she writhed under him. She came a moment later, breathless and uncontrolled.

He released her and turned her on her stomach, pulling her onto her knees before plunging back inside. He held her hips in his hands, looking down at her shapely figure. In the light of day, he could see the fading scars there, thin stripes on her buttocks and back. But they made her no less beautiful to him, only more so.
Her bravery, her desire, her refusal to give up when all seemed hopeless...her ability to forgive.
He loved her. He needed her.

He had been foolish to deny himself that which he needed most on earth. Her smile, her laughter, her affectionate clinginess, he couldn’t take these things for granted anymore. He couldn’t hide away from her, hoping she wouldn’t affect him. She affected him. It was a lost cause. But it was okay, he thought as he drove into her, touching her deepest center, claiming her very soul. It was all okay, he thought as he shook with the pleasure of emptying himself inside her. With
Cait
, everything would always be okay.