Highland Song (6 page)

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Authors: Christine Young

BOOK: Highland Song
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Lainie’s wild, futile fighting did nothing but wear her out and make her desperate to breathe. Yet when she gasped for air, she couldn’t. Slade’s weight was too great to shift from her chest even the tiny inch she needed.

 

"Little, fox, you are dangerous," he murmured. "Can you be tamed to fulfill a man’s greatest desires? I wonder? Are your struggles just another ploy to get your way?" he asked, his mouth still hovering over hers but not touching her. Slade held himself over her, restraining her just enough to keep her from attacking him. He pinned her to the ground with his much greater weight, absorbing her struggles but he didn't try to kiss her again. Instead, he watched her with his shimmering green eyes.

 

She didn’t want to descend into the world where she felt nothing, where she saw nothing save a magical, fantasy world. She would not give in to whatever horrible thing Slade was about to do to her. She meant to fight him every step of the way.

 

Yet with each passing moment, her world began to go gray, then black, receding from her in a rush, spinning away.

 

The tiny, terrified sound Lainie made as she felt herself fainting did what none of her struggles had done. Slade lifted his body just enough to allow her a breath of air.

 

"That’s example number two," Slade said coolly when Lainie opened her eyes and focused on him.

 

"What--what do--ye mean?" she gasped.

 

"I’m faster than you are. That was your first example. I’m bigger and stronger than you are. That was the second example. And your third example…" He paused for a moment watching her as if he meant to learn everything about her in that one second.

 

"There won’t be a third example." Her hands rested on his chest. She tried to push him away once more.

 

"But there already has been. The third one was mine to learn," he said and smiled oddly as he looked at Lainie’s gently brushing a wisp of hair from her eyes.

 

"W-what?"

 

"I learned that you taste hotter than French brandy and sweeter than wine," he said simply. "And that I mean to find a way to seduce you. You see, I have to have you. I have to learn how you will feel when I’m deep inside you."

 

Without saying another word, Slade lowered his head again. Without noticing the tensions that filled Lainie as well as the fear, he seemed oblivious to all of her terrified emotions.

 

"This time, do what I've heard you do best, little fox. I like your kisses hot and deep," he whispered close to her ear.

 

"Bastard," she gasped, wondering what horrible nightmare she’d ridden into. But she didn't fight him this time.
instead
she froze, unable to fight a battle she knew she couldn’t win.

 

"Nay, I’m not a bastard," he told her. "Your tongue," he said against her open lips. "Take your hot little tongue and put it inside my mouth."

 

Lainie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her breath caught in her chest and her heart beat painfully beneath her breast. A lone tear slipped from the corner of one eye.

 

Her sudden stillness made Slade believe she agreed with him. Slowly he lowered his head and made a deep sound of pleasure as he tasted her.

 

The gliding caress of his mouth against hers caught her by surprise once more. For the space of a heartbeat, she felt like a delicate flower being held by gentle yet strong hands. Then she remembered where she was and that Slade was no one she knew.

 

And she remembered the nightmares of her past.

 

She knew first hand what men wanted from women. She’d let no man show her a second time. Nor would she let him try to seduce her. He could learn a fourth thing this day.

 

Lainie jerked her head to the side, but not before, she felt the scorching, textured surface of his tongue stroking her own.

 

"Don’t do this," Lainie said urgently. Yet for some reason she was no longer terrified.

 

This feeling was different. Lainie was feeling a curious weakness, and the sensation seemed to shoot through her at the caressing touch of Slade’s tongue against her own. She realized suddenly that despite her protests, she didn't want him to stop.

 

Once a long time ago, when Hawke married Callie, she had wondered if Callie had wanted Hawke. She had wondered about a lot of things. But that day in the woods when Bertram had taken her innocence she had stopped wondering, because she was sure she had known the answer. Now she wasn’t so sure.

 

"Why not?" Slade asked coolly. "You liked kissing me. I felt your body melt beneath mine. You want me just as much as I want you."

 

"No I don't." She was quick to respond and to deny the truth of his words.

 

"You are a liar, little fox. I felt your hot response all the way to my soul."

 

"I don’t know you. I don’t want anything to do with you. I don't like you kissing me."

 

"You’re going to get to know me, and you and I are going to be together for a while. Hush, now, I'm going to kiss you again."

 

"I’m leaving as soon as you get off me."

 

"Then you’ll run right into Jericho and his hired soldiers. They'll use you then hand you over to Bertram. Is that what you want?"

 

Slade brushed his mouth lazily over Lainie’s and listened to the surprised rush of air between her lips.

 

"But--" she began.

 

"Hush," Slade said, cutting off Lainie’s protest by biting her lower lip gently. "I’m not going to hurt you, but I am going to have you."

 

"Slade--" She tried to protest but the one word was weak even to her own ears. And she thought, I don't know why but I do want him.

 

"Don’t worry." Slowly Slade released Lainie’s lower lip. "You’ll like it. I’ll see to it."

 

"I will not like it," Lainie said urgently. "It's not something anyone could like."

 

"You’re mine, little fox at least until we reach Edinburgh."

 

"I’m not going to Edinburgh."

 

"Of course you are."

 

He grinned and kissed the frantic pulse at her neck. She squirmed and felt the heat all the way to the tips of her toes.

 

"Aaron Slade, please. I don’t want to do this. I’m not yours. I don’t understand why you think you can do this to me." But she did. All men took what they wanted. Slade was no different. "Why would you want to take me to Edinburgh?"

 

"I have my orders."

 

She stiffened. "Who gave you those orders?"

 

"I’m not at liberty to say. But I promise you that you will stay safe."

 

"That’s more than anyone can promise." Lainie knew her skin had turned as pale as death. Bertram’s headquarters was in Edinburgh.

 

"What’s he paying you?" Lainie asked.

 

"Nothing."

 

"Liar." Her voice died.

 

~ * ~

 

Amused and skeptical at Lainie’s difficulty in finding the right words to explain how she was innocent when both of them knew she wasn’t, Slade lifted one black eyebrow and waited for her to continue. She knew why he’d followed her and what he intended. What she didn’t know was that he’d never turn her over to Bertram. It didn’t matter if she’d been Bertram’s mistress. He would never give the old goat the satisfaction of having her again. She was too fragile and far too beautiful for the likes of Bertram who treated all women with disdain.

 

"I didn’t do what they are accusing me of doing. Don’t you see it’s a trap," Lainie said unhappily. "I didn’t steal anything from Bertram. I wouldn’t be caught dead in the same room. Not for any reason," she finished in
a frenzy
.

 

"The sealed papers--do they give away the identity of English spies," Slade asked nodding. "With the evidence stacked against you, and these documents they will hang you."

 

Lainie blinked and swallowed hard, afraid for her life. "You think you know everything but you don’t."

 

Slade smiled. "I understand more than you think. All through explaining?" Slade asked politely.

 

"What?"

 

"This."

 

Slade bent just far enough to cover Lainie’s mouth with his own. When he felt her soften beneath him as if she were giving into him, he settled more heavily on her, reminding her of everything he’d already taught her: When it came to a contest of strength, she didn’t have a chance against Aaron Slade.

 

Cautiously, Lainie relaxed, wondering if Slade would release her if she didn’t fight him.

 

Instantly, the breath stealing pressure of his body lifted until it was little more than a warm disturbingly sensual contact from her shoulders to her feet.

 

"Kiss me," Slade whispered close to her ear. "Kiss me like I know you can."

 

"If I do, will you let me go?"

 

"Let you go? No. Negotiate, maybe."

 

"If I don’t do what you want?"

 

"Then you’ll end up in Bertram’s bed, and to hell with what you want," he lied to her.

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