Dreamer (Highland Treasure Trilogy) (15 page)

“Aye, true enough, Cat! But none of those would provide half the fun of being able to rile you.”

She leaned toward him, lowering her
voice so that her words would only be heard by him. “Then I guess ‘tis time
that I warned
you
, m’lord. Rile me too many times at this fashion and
you’ll feel the lash of my tongue and the battering of my wit. And do not be fooled by any frailty you see in this woman’s body, for I’ve conquered men tougher
than you.”

“I’m certain you have, sweetness.”
The earl’s booming laugh drew every eye to the dais. “By the devil, we’ll have
a fine time of it, Catherine. This is sure to be far better than anything I
could have hoped for.”

“I do not think...”

“Have you finished eating, lass?”

“Nay, but...” Before she could finish her thought, his mouth descended and Athol kissed her again, fully and
thoroughly. 

She pushed him away and, after
glancing out at the throng, stared at the table before her. “All eyes are upon
us.”

“Aye, as you say, m’lady. Then I
believe ‘tis time we left these discourteous villains to find their amusements
where they will.” She felt his strong hand wrap around hers beneath the dais.
She followed the path of his scorching gaze as it dropped suggestively to her
breasts. “And we can find our own elsewhere, as well!”

Catherine tried to ignore the
warmth spreading through her middle. “Before coming down here, I promised
myself not to allow you to seduce me again until we had a chance to speak of
the school.”

“Is that so?”

The heat of his hand on her thigh
began to scatter her thoughts, and Catherine forced herself to concentrate.

“Name your conditions, Cat.”

“An elementary and a grammar
school--both at Elgin.”

“They have a fine grammar school
there already,” he replied, shaking his head. “You can have the elementary
school right here at Balvenie.”

“But it would be so much easier to
start both schools at the same time.”

His growl, followed by the tug of
his hand as he shoved his chair back and came to his feet, told her she was
running out of time.

“I’ll concede to having them both
here as long as you agree to provide for maintenance of the tutors we bring
back from Elgin!”

“You’ll start with one school.”

Catherine quickly considered her
options. She already had more than she’d dared hoped to get from the man.
Still, though, she sensed that she could get more.

“Two schools. And I’ll teach...”

“Nay. One school for now!”

“Perhaps if I could show you the
benefits of having the two...”

Catherine had no choice but to let
herself be led across the Great Hall, returning the smiles and nods, the bows
and curtsies as he propelled her toward the great arched doorway. She didn’t
have to glance around to know that every eye was upon them, that every tongue
would be clucking about her husband’s intent as soon as the two of them had
pushed their way out of the chamber.

In the dim light of the corridor
outside the Hall, she planted her feet, preparing to berate him for his
behavior. And she would have, but before she could speak, the master of Balvenie Castle lifted her into his arms with a devilish grin, and sped down the dark
corridor. 

“Ah, lass, I’ll have to feed you
more. You weigh no more than a sparrow!”

Dizzy at the sensation of being
carried like this, she couldn’t find her voice or summon any kind of protest.
Instead, she found herself wrapping her arms around his neck for support. To
save herself from falling, she told herself. But what a lie! The giddiness she
felt, the excitement of what was surely to follow, left her shivering with
anticipation.

He tightened his hold on her, and
she found her face pressed to the skin of his throat.

He lengthened his strides. “You
keep that up, Cat, and we won’t make it to my bedchamber.”

She liked the huskiness that she
could hear in his voice. There was something thrilling in the tightness of his
iron-hard arms holding her. She puzzled at the thought that she actually affected
him like this.

She considered his threat. “Ah! But I thought...I thought you so much stronger... than...”

“Strength has nothing to do with
it, lass.”

He quirked a half-smile at her and
then kicked open a door before passing through it. Catherine’s eyes hardly had
a chance to focus as they swept through Athol’s outer chamber. The door to his
bedchamber lay directly ahead. She held her breath.

With a suddenness that shocked her,
he halted at the door, staring at it as if it were some insurmountable obstacle.
Glancing at the door and then into his handsome face, Catherine found herself
burning with expectation.

His voice was no more than a growl,
and he did not look at her. “Once I’ve taken you inside this chamber, you’re
mine, Catherine Percy!”

Slowly, his gaze dropped to her,
and she met his gray, piercing eyes in the dim light of the room. “But I have been yours, John Stewart...from the moment you wed me.”

“Aye, in body you’ve been mine! But in spirit...” He shook his head slowly. “I want your trust. I want you to accept me as your
husband. I want all of you, Cat.”

She never took her eyes from his
face. Even in this light, she could see the muscles in his cheek flickering
beneath the skin.

“I gave you my body. I’ll give you
all the passion within me. But as to the rest--” Catherine tightened her hold
on his powerful neck and raised her face closer to his, “you’ll have to earn my
trust.”

She never gave him a chance to
voice his response, instead threading her fingers into his hair, she kissed his
mouth the way he himself had taught her to kiss. When she broke off the kiss
and drew back, she could not be certain which one of them was more affected.

“Catherine, I...”

“Nay, John. I need you! But do you plan to stand here all night and waste this...”

Athol pushed his way through the
door into the bedchamber, and Catherine found herself being gently placed on
her feet. Still holding her close to his chest, he dropped the door latch in
place.

Catherine placed a kiss in the
hollow of his throat, resisting the thought of letting go of her grip on his
neck. Having his strength surround her like this was an enjoyment totally
unexpected.

“Does this mean you intend to allow
me to walk the rest of the way of my free will?”

“It would be quite easy to toss you
onto my bed and have my way with you. You are far too tempting, lass, even for
the celibate saint I know you aspire to be.”

“Well, m’lord, saintliness is--we
both know very well--not an end you have any possibility of achieving.”

“Aye, and ‘tis a blessing for both
of us.”

She arched her back as he lowered
his mouth to her neck. His lips brushed over the skin beneath her ear, stirring
the banked fires of desire deep within her. She felt the roaming of his hands
as they slid from her back downward over to her buttocks. She thrilled at the
pressure of his strong fingers, drawing her hips against his hardening manhood.

Catherine opened her lips, forcing
air into her lungs. More than anything right now, she wanted her husband to
take her. She needed him. Deep in her belly, she ached to have him, to feel him
inside of her, to know again the sensation of having her body wrapped around
his, drawing his essence in. The very thought of him driving into her...

“Not so fast,” he murmured in her
ear, his breath hot as he ran his tongue over the sensitive ridges of her ear.
“Having such thoughts will only be my undoing...and put an untimely end to such
pleasures.”

Her mind whirling with the myriad
of sensations that were colliding within her, Catherine leaned back in his arms
and looked confusedly into his face. “What did you say?”

His fingers worked themselves
beneath her tartan and cupped her breasts. Lights were pulsing through vaporous
mists in her brain, and she leaned against the door to support her own weight.

“I simply said, not so fast. We’ll
get there soon. But not yet, my sweet!”

She mentally pushed away at the
bright mists. This couldn’t be. He couldn’t be reading her mind. It was just
that she was too inexperienced and eager in this game of passion. He was
guessing at her thoughts.

“Think what you will.” He leaned
down and kissed her again so deeply that, when he pulled back, she remained
where she was for a long moment, dazed by the power of his passion. “But be prepared, lass. This night will be filled with all the pleasures our passionate natures
can devise.”

“Tell me what to do, John. Teach
me.” Her own voice sounded like that of a stranger. Her needs, it occurred to
her, seemed to belong to someone else. To someone outside of her, and yet
living at the very center of her womanhood.

“Undress for me.”

She looked up and met his burning
eyes.

“Take off the tartan, Cat.”

Holding his gaze, her hand moved up
to the brooch at her shoulder. As the plaid fell from her shoulders, she
watched his eyes follow, pausing to gaze appreciatively on the exposed tops of
her breasts before sweeping downward.

Meeting her gaze, Athol reached out
and took hold of her hand, drawing her to the center of the bedchamber. There
he left her and crossed to the fire.

This was the first time since
leaving the Great Hall that Catherine had been even a step away from her
husband, and she let her eyes survey the chamber. A crackling fire in the
hearth spread a comfortable warmth through the chamber as well as bathing it in
a golden glow. Before the hearth, a table and chairs stood beside a huge
settle, and across from the fire, a giant canopied bed stood against a paneled
wall. Her eyes lingered on the bed with its damask curtains and intricately
carved wood.

“Nay. Not yet!”

She looked back and found her
husband standing beside the hearth with his hand outstretched to her.

“We’ll save that for the last,
Cat.” 

Catherine never hesitated as she
took the few short steps into his arms. The way he wrapped her in his
embrace--the heat she felt at the immediate and possessive caress of his hands
over her body--all made her head whirl with excitement.

John Stewart backed into the settle
beside the fire and drew her onto his lap. She placed her arm around his neck
and found herself looking into his magical eyes. “Why here?”

“‘Tis the farthest place from the
bed.” She could feel his hands undoing the laces on the back of her dress.
“‘Tis also the brightest spot in the chamber.” She gasped and looked down as
one of his hands pulled down at the neckline of her dress causing both of her
breasts to spill wantonly into the open. “And ‘tis also the warmest spot--short
of being beneath the comforter on the bed--which we are saving for later.”

She held her breath as his head
descended, his tongue starting to make circles around one of her nipples. In a
flash, she felt the tightening in her breast and watched with widening eyes as
her flesh extended, beckoning toward his lips. He took her fully into his
mouth, and she found herself melting with pleasure.

A moment later, as he pulled back
and stood her up between his legs, Catherine watched him with a wondering eye
as he pushed her dress and the thin chemise downward over her hips. She was now
burning with need, every part of her on fire, every bit of her tingling with desire,
and he, too, seemed lost in the moment.  The way his eyes roamed every inch of
her naked body, the way his hands gently traveled over her curves, cupping,
caressing, shaping her hips, her buttocks, her belly, her breasts--each tender
touch sending her spiraling higher. When his mouth suckled her again, she
wanted to cry out with joy. 

He wanted her. He was as much
affected by her woman’s body as she was by this passion that he was so keen to
raise in her. They were in this together. The two of them as one.

Gradually, a boldness crept into
her veins, and Catherine moved closer, sliding her hands over his powerful
shoulders.

“Teach me. Show me what to do.”

“You are more than...” He paused,
drawing back and gazing at her. “You are so beautiful.”

To have
him
forget his words
brought a smile to her face. Taking one of his hands, she raised it to her lips
and placed a kiss on each finger. “Show me, John.”

The handsome planes of his face
became tense. She thought she could see something akin to pain around his eyes.

“One touch by you, Cat...and I’ll
be undone for certain.”

“One touch is all?” she murmured,
remembering the way she’d felt last night when his fingers had wrought magic
within her. Lowering herself slowly to her knees, she held his gaze. “Promise
me? One touch?”

Pulling at his shirt, she placed
her lips against the skin of his chest, tasting him as he had tasted her. Her
hands, resting only for a moment on his knees, slid beneath the soft wool of
his kilt.

“Catherine...you’ll be the death of
me.”

“Aye, but you’re no coward, I
know.” Feeling bolder with each passing moment, she continued to place chaste
kisses on his chest, his throat, his chin, as her fingers continued their slow
journey upward over his taut, muscular thighs. “And how could a poor scholar,
such as I am, be the undoing of the great and powerful earl of Athol?”

“Cat!”

He drew a sharp breath as she found
her mark. Wrapping her fingers around him, she was awestruck at the size of
him. Hesitantly, she looked up and found his eyes concentrating on her face.

“You could not have been so large
last night.” She used her thumb to feel the softness of the head while her hand
moved curiously the length of his manhood. Real concern began to edge into her
voice. “Do you get larger, John? For even like this, we no longer can possibly
fit.”