Highland Vampire (9 page)

"What?"

"Children. Ye are the only child I have bred, David, and I have been indulging myself with women for thirty years or so. E'en Cathal, who is a mon of both worlds, feared he might not be able to breed a child. Despite the many Pureblood women Efrica's brothers have bedded down with when they come to visit, only two bairns have been born."

David sighed and dragged his hand through his hair when they paused just outside the door of Jankyn's room. "Weel, then, why not become lovers? At least ye could have that."

"And then who would take her to wife? Men prefer their wives to be untouched when they come to the marriage bed."

"Unless that wife has a verra fine dowry, one sweetened with a bonnie piece of land. Mayhap I am a selfish bastard, but if I stood in your place, I would take all I could. I would glut myself with sweet memories to hold in my heart, ones to be brought forth later, when I am again alone. Weel, I best go and clean myself up and then hie myself back to the great hall ere my Fiona thinks I have deserted her."

Jankyn watched his son walk away, then turned to frown at his door.
Why not become lovers
? The very thought of being Efrica's lover made his knees weak, as if he were some untried boy facing the loss of his virginity. Cursing his son for putting that idea into his head, Jankyn entered his chambers. When Efrica turned from staring into the fire and smiled at him, he felt as if he had come home and he silently groaned.
Why not become lovers
? As Jankyn walked to his bed and flung himself down on it, he knew that one small hint of welcome from Efrica and he would give in to the temptation to start making some of those sweet memories.

Efrica moved to stand beside the bed. "Are ye still weak? Do ye want some of your wine?" She frowned at him as she suddenly noticed the state of his clothes. "How did ye get so wet?"

"Nay. Aye. 'Tis raining." He had to bite back a grin when she rolled her lovely eyes.

"Why did ye go out in the rain?"

"Ah, weel, we couldnae leave four dead men lying about the corridor, could we? David and I took them outside the walls and tossed them into the burn. Luck was with us the whole way. No one stumbled upon us as we left the castle, and the foul weather hid us as we went to the burn. So the only one who will ken what happened to those men when the bodies are found is the one who hired them. He willnae be talking, will he."

"She," Efrica said as she grimaced at the muddy state of his boots. "Here, let me get these off ere ye ruin the bedclothes."

"She?" Jankyn asked, absently shifting around enough to allow Efrica to remove his boots.

"Aye. I believe your lover Lady Eleanor hired them."

There was a definite bite to her words, Jankyn noticed. "My former lover. My former lover of but a verra brief time many weeks ago. I should be surprised that a woman would hire mercenaries to murder a mon, but I am not. Cold and vicious is Lady Eleanor. Vanity dressed in a rich gown. How do ye ken she is the one?"

As she grabbed a drying cloth and began to rub his hair dry, Efrica explained. When she looked at Jankyn, he was grinning at her, and she thought that an odd reaction. Then she realized what she was doing and cursed softly.

"What am I thinking of?" she muttered, glaring at the drying cloth.

"That I am wet?"

"'Tis habit, ye ken. Someone comes in wet, then ye hurry to get them dry and warm so they dinnae take a fever, but that isnae a problem with ye, is it?"

"Nay, but feel free to continue."

There was an odd glint in his eyes, as if he challenged her. Efrica also sensed some change in him, as if he was no longer so intent upon keeping a distance between them. Perhaps, she mused, he had been as affected by his brush with death as she had. As she had seen his wounds, had realized that he could possibly die if he did not feed soon, she had decided she would stop lying to herself, would stop trying to run away from what she felt for him. Efrica was not sure what he felt for her, save for lust and some liking, but she could accept that for now. She herself was still uncertain if there could be any future for them, but there was definitely the here and now and she would grasp it. If nothing else, she could gather up a lot of lovely memories to warm her heart whenever she felt alone.

When Efrica began to unlace his doublet, Jankyn tensed. The soft smile she wore and the way she kept glancing up at him from beneath her long lashes was taking the chill from his skin more rapidly than any fire could. He was not sure if she was so innocent she could not understand how this was affecting him or if she played some game. When she had him bared to the waist, she placed her hands upon his chest and he had to clench his hands into tight fists to keep from grabbing her and tossing her to the bed. If she were a woman of experience, he would know exactly what she was after, but he dared not guess wrong with Efrica.

Efrica felt the heat of his skin beneath her hands and shivered slightly. His chest was broad, the strength beneath his smooth, lovely skin clear to see and feel. That tiny flicker of hesitation she had felt a moment ago faded away. Perhaps they were not destined to be together forever, but her heart and body were not concerned with the future at this time, anyway. It was going to hurt when their time together ended and they each went back to their normal lives, but at least there would be fewer regrets mixed with that pain. She would be able to close her eyes and remember passion shared, instead of just wondering how it might have been. She leaned forward and kissed his chest, feeling him tremble beneath her lips.

That was an invitation if ever there was one, but Jankyn felt compelled to give her one last chance to escape with her virtue intact. "Dangerous, lass. Verra dangerous indeed."

"Is it?" She placed her hands on his broad shoulders and felt the heat of his gaze flow through her veins. "What is this then?" She kissed him.

"Madness," he whispered against her mouth and yanked her into his arms.

Jankyn had no more willpower to refuse the gift she offered. As they kissed, Efrica revealing that she learned the intricacies of kissing very quickly, he hurried to unlace her gown. He needed to see her, needed to feel her soft skin against his. When he felt her small hands tugging at the laces on his hose, he realized she felt the same need. There would be no turning back now.

When her gown fell to the floor, Jankyn stood up and tugged her chemise off over her head.

Despite the fact that he was trembling with need, he almost smiled when he saw that she wore braies. He quickly removed those, then her shoes and stockings, before nearly tossing her down on his bed. As he threw off the rest of his clothes, he wondered fleetingly where all of his well-practiced seductive skills had gone.

Efrica got one good look at a naked Jankyn before he was sprawled on top of her, kissing her. His kiss swiftly banished that brief moment of alarm she had suffered upon seeing the size of that part he would soon be trying to fit inside her. She ran her hands over his strong back as she tilted her head to allow him to spread his warm kisses over her throat with more ease. A soft cry of pleasure escaped her when he caressed her breasts with his elegant hands.

"Ah, Efrica, ye are so cursed beautiful. So soft and sweet to the taste," he murmured against her skin as he kissed the spot between her full breasts.

He closed his mouth over the hard aching tip of her breast and gently suckled. Efrica gave herself over completely to the pleasure flowing through her. It was not until he slid his hand between her legs that she regained any of her senses, but his clever fingers soon banished all hesitation and shock over such an intimate touch. Efrica was aware of nothing save how he felt beneath her hands, his scent, and his touch. By the time he settled himself squarely between her thighs and she felt him nudge himself inside her, she was shaking with the strength of her desire.

"This may hurt ye a wee bit, love," he said, the sweat beading on his body as he fought the strong urge to just thrust himself into her heat and keep thrusting until the nearly painful need possessing him was satisfied.

"Get it over with."

Jankyn almost laughed. If not for all the signs of a passion burning as hot and wild as his own, he could easily take those curt words amiss. Then he decided she was probably right, that quick was best. He grasped her by her slim hips and drove himself deep inside her. Pressing his face into the cool linen cover on the pillow under her head, he fought to remain still, to allow her to grow used to him. He had heard her gasp of pain and did not wish to add to it by moving too quickly. Then he felt her hands stroke his back, her small feet stroke his legs, and most telling of all, heard a soft rumbling noise that could not be called anything other than a purr. He pushed himself up on his forearms and looked at her.

"I dinnae think we are done yet, Jankyn," she murmured, caressing his chest with her hands as she wrapped her legs around his lean body.

"Nay," he whispered. "Not yet."

He slowly moved within her, savoring her heat. The look of pure delight upon her face severed his control, however. To his relief, Efrica did not quail beneath the increasing ferocity of his lovemaking. He felt her nails score his back as she met his every thrust with a greed that matched his own. When she cried out his name as her release rippled through her slim body and he felt her body drink from his, Jankyn had to cling to what few tattered bits of control he could gather up even as he joined her in that blind fall. He buried his face in the pillow, fighting the urge to make her his true mate.

Even as the sweetest satisfaction he had ever tasted washed over him, a hunger lingered. Jankyn turned his head and softly kissed the life-giving pulse in her neck. He would hold her in his bed for as long as she and fate allowed, but it was going to be hard not to take that final step. There was not a part of him that did not crave that ritual mixing of her blood with his, of tasting that sweet elixir that gave her life and leaving his mark upon her lovely neck. It had to be offered, however, and despite the desire she shared with him so willingly, he was not at all sure that she wished to be his true mate.

Feeling certain that his hunger no longer revealed itself upon his face, he slowly pulled free of her body. The murmur of regret she made brought a smile to his lips as he turned onto his side. He propped himself up on one elbow, rested his chin in his hand, and idly stroked her stomach as he gazed at her. She was looking beautifully sated, even a little debauched.

When she smiled at him and languidly pushed her tousled hair from her face, Jankyn felt his heart break. He was pleased she revealed no misgivings, but he suffered a sudden strong regret that he was not a normal man. A man who could woo her with walks in the garden, could make love to her in a sun-bathed meadow. A man who could offer her a house filled with windows and then fill it with children. A man she could fret over when he came home cold and wet, in need of her help to get warm and dry to stave off the threat of a fever. A man who could grow old with her. A man who did not have to worry that, no matter how long-lived Callans were, there would come the day when he would stand over her grave knowing he faced many, many empty years ahead.

Jankyn suddenly understood why so many Purebloods reached a time in their very long lives when they suddenly began to spit in the eye of the reaper, to boldly risk suffering one of the few ways a Pureblood could die. It could be that they had grown too arrogant, too sure of their own immortality, but Jankyn suspected that, in some strange way, they had simply become bored with their lives. Or as with the old laird, Cathal's father, who had married an Outsider, they could not bear the thought of life without their mate, a life so long that they could find themselves standing over the grave of their child, their grandchild, and on and on. Aging as an Outsider did was a frightening thing, but Jankyn began to think that living so long you saw your own bloodline die out one by one could be more so.

"Ye look troubled, Jankyn," Efrica said, smothering the hurt she felt over his lack of love words.

"I was wondering what happens now, love." He kissed her and asked softly, "Are ye my lover now? Aye or nay?"

"Aye," she replied without hesitation.

Chapter Nine

"Weel, ye obviously dinnae have to worry that your lover cannae give ye children."

Deciding it was safe to leave the bucket she had been draped over for far too long, Efrica ignored her cousin and crawled back to her bed. As she buried her face in the pillow, she heard Barbara set a few things down on the table beside her bed. It was obvious that Barbara wished to discuss matters. For a moment, Efrica considered feigning a swoon, but then carefully urged her body into a seated position, collapsing against the pillows Barbara hastily plumped up behind her. She frowned at the bread and what smelled like hot cider set on the table.

"I dinnae think I can eat anything," she mumbled.

"Aye, ye can. Sip the drink and nibble at the bread. ‘Twill settle ye." Barbara sat at the end of the bed, crossed her arms over her chest, and stared at Efrica until she began to do as commanded. "Time to decide, Cousin. I didnae fully agree with what ye were doing, but I understood. Just because ye love and desire a mon doesnae mean he will make ye a good husband. Howbeit, there is now love, desire,
and a bairn
."

"Mayhap 'tis just the fish I ate last eve."

"Dinnae play the fool. I have suspected this for a few days now, and I am sure ye have kenned it for just as long, if nay longer. Callan women always ken early when they are with child. Wheesht, if some of us put our minds to it, I wouldnae be surprised if we could tell exactly when the seed took root. Why the frown? Why the hesitation? Does this nay answer one of the doubts ye had when ye thought ye and Jankyn couldnae wed?"

"It does."

"And so?"

"Curse it, Barbara, he hasnae said he wants me as his wife, his mate."

"Ye mean he hasnae said that he loves ye."

The bread and hot cider having revived her, Efrica sat up straighter. "Nay, he hasnae. We have been lovers for a month, and weel, wouldnae he have said so by now if he felt that way?"