Highland Song (17 page)

She hadn’t agreed to his success. After what Bertram had done to her, she didn’t believe any man could seduce her. But Slade affected her in ways she didn't understand.

"They didn’t want English property to fall into Scottish hands," she said curtly. "After all the tendency seems to run in the other directions. The English have a way of stealing our land."

"So true," he agreed with her, touching her once more with a feather light caress. "Keep reading."

"That wasn’t part of the bargain."

The heat of Slade’s mouth on Lainie’s neck sent an inferno sweeping through her. The hot suction and fine edges of his teeth sent the wildfire all the way to her nerves. His fingers ran up and down her arms, enticing, seducing,
tempting
her in every way possible.

Slade felt the shudder that swept the length of her body when he made contact and wondered at his earlier conclusions that she might have been abused by Bertram. If Bertram had forced her, he didn’t think she could react so intensely to his beginning attempts at seduction.

There was no doubt, whether fear or sensuality ruled Slade. The taste of Lainie’s naked skin and the feel of her hips snug between his thighs was a pleasure hot enough to burn. He shifted slightly, increasing the sweet pressure against his rapidly hardening flesh.

"Hawke gave Callie’s land to Ian, our brother. He didn’t want it for himself. I suppose you know their whole story."

She tried to wriggle off Slade’s lap. Every tiny movement she made only served to increase the intimate contact between them.

She became very still.

"Most of it," he said in a lazy voice.

"Then why do you keep…"

"Because it’s fun. And I want to see what will happen next. Will you let me kiss you, little fox?"

Lainie tried to turn the pages but her fingers didn’t want to obey her. And Slade was holding the journal in such a manner she couldn’t turn more than a page at a time.

"That’s not fair," she said.

Slade made a throaty, questioning sound that ruffled her nerves almost as much as a physical touch.

"I can’t stay here," she said and once again tried to find a way to remove herself from Slade’s lap.

Lainie’s words were lost in a stifled gasp as Slade’s lips moved with a silken touch along her hairline.

"Slade." The one word shivered through the night.

"You hold the journal then. But if you try climbing out of my lap, you won’t like the consequences."

Lainie took the journal from Slade’s hands but she didn’t read anything. She knew what he wanted her to admit to but she wasn’t ready. She could not tell him how much she liked it when he touched her and that,
yes,
she wanted him to keep touching her.

Slade’s long, deft fingers began unfastening her jacket.

"It was the ring," she said quickly. "They were trying to find the ring."

"Really."

The jacket began to fall open, allowing the cool night air to wash Lainie’s throat. She let her eyelids flutter closed and tried to breathe past her heart, which seemed lodged halfway up her throat. She felt as if she were burning from the inside out.

"But Hawke melted it," she said.

Just like I'm melting. I wonder if the fire was as hot as the one Slade is making burn inside me.

"Why would he do that?" Slade asked.

"So he couldn’t be accused of treason like his father."

"So, treason runs in your family. It didn’t even skip a generation," Slade said deeply. "It seems I heard about a MacPherson--his head on a pole, convicted of crimes against the crown. Go on little fox. This gets more interesting with each sentence you read."

"No, I don’t want to read anymore. I’m finished." She tried to close the book but Slade wasn't paying any attention to her.

Lainie gasped softly as her jacket gave way beneath Slade’s gentle urging. The worn white shirt that had once been Hawke’s glowed in the firelight as though made of satin.

"Don’t be afraid," Slade said. "I’m not doing anything that we didn’t do before."

"That doesn’t reassure me," she told him, her voice shaking.

"Hawke vowed to avenge his father’s death. I heard of it."

"He did. But he fell in love instead."

Her breath rushed out when long fingers stroked her throat lightly, caressing the frantic race of her pulse then traced her collarbone.

"…he didn’t want to though. He wanted to hate Callie."

Slade slipped the laces from the top of her shirt, then lower, pulling the strings through each tiny hole very slowly, his knuckles fleetingly touching her skin again and again.

"Why didn’t he?" Slade asked softly as he pulled her shirt apart.

Lainie dropped the book and grabbed the edges of her shirt. It was too late. Slade’s hands were already stroking bare skin, luring her body with promises of sweet hot pleasure.

Not pain, she thought. Slade was nothing like Bertram. Oh, God, just tell him to stop.

But I don't want him to stop
.

"Because he fell in love with Callie."

Slade's eyes narrowed as he added, "Love doesn't exist."

"Stop," Lainie said.

Even Lainie couldn't tell if she meant the word for Slade or for herself. The sensual pressure and the constant promise of something she'd never felt before left her breathless as well as curious. He lured her ever deeper. The hardness of his callused palms pressing against her hardened nipples burned her.

"Pleasure, not fear," he breathed against her neck. "We'll burn down the forests, little fox. Then we'll soar to the sun."

Lainie came to her senses with a suddenness that startled her. She twisted aside, all but falling to the ground, as she pulled free of Slade's knowing hands.

"No," she said with small conviction, yet knowing she had to stop this.

For a few tense moments, Lainie thought Slade would pull her back on his lap. Then he let out an explosive breath that was also a curse.

"It's just as well, little fox. If I keep touching you, I'll have you." He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't want to take my mistress into my sister's home."

Lainie had never felt so humiliated. She drew her shirt then her jacket together, anger blazing, not passion. She hated men.

"That won't be a problem," she said.

"What?"

"My being your mistress. It will never happen."

Slade flinched as if he recognized the bitterness in her voice as well as the determination. "Breaking your promise so soon, little fox? For a few short moments, I thought better of you."

Lainie squared her shoulders. Her eyes burned as hotly as the fire.

"I promised you could try to get me into your bed. I didn't guarantee you success. As far as I'm concerned, you'll never seduce me. You can't insult me one second and think to seduce me to your bed the next."

"You're wrong. I'll win. I never lose. And you will be helping me ever second of the way. It will be the most fun you have ever had paying off a debt."

The white flash of Slade's smile infuriated her.

"Don't count on it, Englishman. No girl wants a man who makes her feel used and worthless save for her body.

Chapter Six

Two days later Slade brought his horse to a stop on a rise just above the estate. "We're here," he spoke with a reverence in his voice Lainie had never heard before.

"Your sister's home?" Lainie watched with wondering curiosity. The change that came over him when he looked at the rolling green hills was amazing. The narrowed eyes and predatory alertness vanished, softening the hard lines of his features, revealing a man who was relaxed and quick to smile. She had thought him to be older. Now looking at Slade, she was sure he was much younger and ages less hard.

"'Tis beautiful," Lainie waved her hand.

"It's flat and green and there are few contrasts, but it is beautiful," Slade said as if he didn't want to acknowledge his feelings.

Even though they rode through English countryside, the change that had come over Slade was enough to make her appreciate the scenery, but there was more. The country estate was magnificent and the setting was exceptionally beautiful. The land was green and the sun made the damp grass sparkle with prisms of color. Beyond the house, a silver-blue river shimmered with trees dotting the banks. On the north side of the valley, hills rolled behind the home and she knew eventually they would climb to the higher more rugged mountains of the highlands.

 
Fat sheep grazed calmly as Lainie and Slade rode by. A crop of some sort covered one of the fields. From high above them a falcon dipped and soared catching the wind, floating, then soaring even higher, finally landing in a tree to watch the passing strangers with a weary eye.

"It's good to be in England," Slade said and spurred his horse forward with the same deceptive ease he did everything.

They galloped through the iron gates and down the tree, lined lane to the big house where a woman, wearing a yellow day dress and hair as black as the night stood on the porch. When she saw them, she ran out into the yard.

"Aaron is that you?" she called out to the rapidly approaching rider. "Aaron Slade why didn't you let us know you were coming?"

"It's me," Slade said. "Didn't have time to send a letter."

He reined in Baby to a prancing halt and added dryly. "If it wasn't me, Stephan would be on the porch with his sword drawn."

"That's true," Stephan said, stepping out from the house. "Can't be too careful these days. Never know who or what kind of vermin is going to wander buy."

"Still being bothered by the Scottish rogues coming down from the borders and raiding?" Slade asked, noting the sword in the other man's hand and the grim expression which was just beginning to fade.

Stephan shrugged. "Raiders, thieves, they're all the same. Too many people moving out from London."

"Moving to the countryside?" Slade asked. "Thought everyone in the city only cared for balls and gambling."

"They don't give it up because they're in the country," Stephan said.

"I can't imagine what they will find to entertain them out here."

"They bring their entertainment with them. The parties are wild and outrageous.

I'd watch your friend real close." Stephan let his attention focus on the person who was just now riding up to the porch.

"Did you hire a boy to--" Josie asked, cocking her head sideways and staring at Lainie as she rode toward them.

The change in Slade's emotions stopped Josie mid-sentence and had Stephan gaping then chuckling softly.

"Not quite," Slade said. That's my, uh, friend."

Lainie was close enough to hear Slade's words. It didn't seem that Slade wanted to tell his sister and her husband she was a woman, let alone his prisoner. She reined her tired horse next to his and took over the introductions that he was plainly reluctant to make.

"My name is Lainie MacPherson," she said quietly. "You must be Slade's sister."

Josie's cheeks pinked and she laughed. "Oh, my. I'm sorry. Yes I'm Josie Campbell, and I should know better than to assume everything in pants is a male."

Stephan looked at Lainie thoughtfully. "Don't think I could ever mistake you for a boy," he said.

"I'm Stephan Campbell," he said to Lainie. "Get down and come inside. I'll have one of the stable boys come get your horse. I'm sure if you are with Slade, he made you ride long and hard. Friend
are
you?" he asked, once again looking at her thoughtfully then seemed to study the strange expression on Slade's face.

"Yes, do come inside," Josie said quickly. "You must be tired. My brother can be unreasonable at times."

Josie's generous, welcoming smile was like a balm on Lainie's pride as well as her heart. Her answering smile included Stephan, who was as big as Slade but seemed a good deal
more gentle
, especially when he was smiling as he was now.

"Thank you," Lainie said. "The ride was a long one, and I am tired." She hoped Slade would keep quiet about her status. She hoped he wouldn't mention she was his prisoner, and they'd made an unholy bargain. Friend was not exactly what he meant to make her. She bit her
lip,
whore was more the right description.

"Don't get too comfortable," Slade said curtly as she dismounted. "We're only staying long enough to switch horses and get supplies before heading north."

Stephan's eyes narrowed as he watched Slade and looked at Lainie. Then he grinned.

Josie seemed to say what was on her mind. "Aaron Slade, where are your manners? Not to mention your common sense. From the way you both look, you could both use a good rest. I don't think Lainie could ride another mile today."

"Someone might be following us. I don't want to bring them down on you," Slade said flatly and looking behind him as if he'd see shadows in the distance. "You and your family's safety is a major concern."

"That fat General laying for you again?" Josie asked sweetly. "Seems as if the two of you should find a way to settle your differences.”

Lainie inhaled a sharp breath, her stomach rolling at the subtle mention of Bertram.

Slade looked surprised.

"Soldiers don't have much to talk about out here except other soldiers," Stephan said dryly, defending his wife. "One of my workers has a soldier friend. His brother is one of Bertram's trackers. So, if it's not Bertram on your backside, who is it?"

"Jericho Manning and the men who ride with him. I'm sure you've heard of him and his mercenaries."

The feral smile that came over Stephan's face made Lainie swiftly revise her idea of his gentle nature. He looked as if he'd relish a good fight with the likes of Jericho and his men.

"And here I thought you'd forgotten my birthday," Stephan said. "It's really good of you to bring a little excitement around here. I've heard a few tales of that man and his solders for hire. Too bad we can't put him at the bottom of the ocean."

"Like we did his brother?"

"I wouldn't want it any other way," Stephan said with a wicked grin that rivaled anything she’d ever seen on Slade.

Laughing softly, Slade shook his head and accepted the inevitable.

"All right, we'll stay for dinner and maybe even the night. Lainie needs the rest. And I want to see my nephew."

"You'll do more than that," Josie said quickly.

"Sorry, Josie," Slade said. "We've got too much ground to cover. This was only a little detour. As I said before, all I wanted was to change horses and get some supplies."

"What's the hurry?" Stephan asked. "Is old Jericho that hard on your trail?"

"No."

Stephan's dark eyebrows rose at the curt answer.

For a moment Slade looked away then he shifted in the saddle and thought of what he could say that wouldn't be a lie and wouldn't be the truth: he was damned uncomfortable bringing a thieving little spy and a woman who had sold her favors to the fat general into his sister’s home. He didn't want Josie to know Lainie had a bounty on her head, and that he hadn't decided if he was bringing her in for trial, or taking her home.

Yes, and I manipulated her into selling her favors to me. Does that make me any better than Bertram?

Frowning, he brushed off his thoughts. "It's late in the season to be taking on the back roads," Slade said. "And I'm on a time table to get her to Edinburgh if that's where I decide to take her. I might be taking her farther north just to let her kin deal with the trouble she has made."

"I have a home in Glasgow. You could take me there," Lainie said sweetly. "And I didn't make trouble. It was that pig…"

"You won't be staying at your home in Glasgow if I decide to take you anywhere besides North," he told Lainie looking sideways at her. "You'll be staying in the tower and we both know it."

"Where will she be staying?" Josie asked, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm not real good at lying, and something inside me doesn't want to let Lainie anywhere near Bertram," Slade said.

"Oh," Josie still looked confused.

Slade looked like a man who was through making explanations. "I've said too much." He brushed his sister off. "Like I said, we'll stay the night but that's all."