Seducing the Highlander (18 page)

“And then he mysteriously disappeared.”

“Yes,” Adain confirmed.

Tipping his glass to his mouth, Robbie drained the contents. Then he said grimly, “I think, dead or alive, we need to find Randal Cameron.”

 

 

“He’s quite . . . devastating, isn’t he?” Therese rubbed her finger idly on the arm of her chair, but her gaze was bright with open speculation.

Julia stifled a laugh. “I suppose that’s one of the many words one could use to describe Robbie McCray.”

“I have more. How about wildly handsome, wickedly male, gloriously tall, and wide shouldered—”

“Let’s not forget impossibly arrogant, notoriously fickle, outrageously hot tempered. His reputation is undisputed,” Julia interrupted, lifting a brow. Her new husband had all of the aforementioned attributes Therese extolled, but Julia was still adjusting to the traits he had that didn’t conform to the persona of the legendary Robbie McCray. The tenderness she hadn’t quite expected, or the genuine sense of humor, and certainly not the potency of their mutual attraction. He’d been a means to an end, and she really hadn’t anticipated that his roguish charm would be so appealing.

She
liked
him.

“Yet you married him.” Therese gave her an understandably reproachful look. “I cannot believe you didn’t tell me your plans, Julia. I thought we’d become close, like sisters.”

It was true. Before her father’s death, Julia hadn’t thought of Therese as more than a neighbor she saw occasionally, pleasant enough but not someone she had a lot in common with beyond as a casual acquaintance. But both Edward and Therese had been supportive since the tragedy, especially after Randal’s disappearance. They called often, and she and Therese had grown to be good friends.

“It made sense to choose McCray,” Julia explained in a halting voice, remembering how much courage it had taken to follow through with her plan, actually leave the castle, and travel to Edinburgh to proposition a man she’d met only when she was a child. “All of Scotland has heard of his lost ships, so I knew I had something to tempt him to agree. I needed a husband, he needed to replace his confiscated property, and his ability to defend himself is undisputed. I doubt Adain would challenge him; nor can Adain treacherously catch Robbie McCray off guard.”

“But you really did not know him.”

“It is a common enough practice for young women to be betrothed to men they don’t know,” Julia pointed out, though that had bothered her as well. “I believe my father would have approved of the match, and that is important to me.”

“And your new husband is extremely talented between the sheets,” Therese commented with a hint of question in her voice. Leaning forward slightly, she murmured, “I mean, that’s what they say, Julia, and having seen him, I somehow believe it.”

Since it was absolutely true, Julia couldn’t suppress a blush, but as good of friends as she and Therese might be, she wasn’t willing to elaborate. She said primly, “His prowess in any capacity except wielding a sword is immaterial to me. At least tonight I know I’ll sleep safely, even if it takes sharing my bed with the infamous McCray.”

As if it were a hardship.

They were in the guest bedroom Therese always used when visiting, since her brother’s estate was far enough away that dinner invitations often included an overnight stay. Therese sat in a blue brocade chair by the fireplace, her expression softening from mischievous to sorrowful. “A part of me wishes Edward had never found that pin next to your father’s body, Julia. I still wonder if I should not have told you or given it back. I agonized for months over what to do.”

“Had you
not
given me the pin, I might have married Adain,” Julia murmured, recalling that awful moment of disclosure—when Therese showed her absolute proof of her cousin’s treachery.

“True, but—”

“Therese, you surely do not think for a moment that you could deny me the knowledge. I might have tied myself for life to a conscienceless monster.”

Her friend’s eyes held a troubled look. “I am sorry Edward refuses to testify to the authorities. He and Adain have known each other a long time. A stubborn part of him still thinks the pin got there by some accident.”

Since Julia had commissioned the pin herself and had it fashioned as a gift—a pledge of both love and friendship—then given it to her cousin for his birthday just before the murder, the evidence was all too damning. It made her ill now to recall just how much she had looked forward to the expression on Adain’s face when he opened the box and saw the Cameron crest with their initials entwined. He’d displayed it daily on his plaid, like a pledge of their love. That is, until her father’s death. Adain never mentioned losing it, and now it was clear why. Julia got up from her perch on the bed and paced restlessly across the spacious room. “Edward harbors false hope. He found it on the shore of the loch right where he spotted my father’s body in the water. What else am I supposed to think?”

“Neither my brother nor myself believe Adain is capable of such a crime. That is why Edward told no one but me about finding the pin. I kept the knowledge to myself for almost a year, but as your wedding approached, I . . . well, I finally opted to let you know about it and draw your own conclusions.”

“Your loyalty is admirable.” Julia stopped by the window and gazed out to see the moonlight gilding the countryside in a pale glow. “It is my father who is lost, my brother who is missing, and Adain gains land, title, and wealth from both circumstances.”

“It does look bad,” Therese admitted with reluctance in her tone. “However, if it weren’t for Edward joining the search and finding the pin—”

Whirling around, Julia said bitterly, “He
did
join, he
did
find it . . . and not once has Adain even mentioned it missing. I despise myself for feeling enough for him that I have kept the discovery of the pin a secret, but I refuse to hide my loathing for the man he is. Do not try to argue that he is too honorable for murder, Therese, lest you forget the child even now growing in the belly of one of your female servants, conceived during one of Adain’s visits to your home months ago
while
he was still betrothed to me. I had always thought him a good man, but Adain is in truth despicable and callous, apparently not past shoving up the skirts of a young scullery maid to take his pleasure even though he had pledged his heart to another woman.”

Therese looked at her with sympathetic eyes, her brown curls glistening in the firelight. She said softly, “He is a man, and the girl did not say she was unwilling. And Adain denies it is his. Edward asked him.”

“So he says.” It was stated with grim disbelief. “But the girl swears to you otherwise.”

“Don’t worry. Edward has every intention of providing for her welfare and that of the babe.”

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Julia said, “Edward is a gentleman, something my cousin only pretends to be.”

“And what, then, does that make your new husband?” Therese asked, tactfully changing the subject to something lighter. “I would think that Robbie McCray, with his famous sword arm and even more famous . . . um . . . Well, I suppose it
is
a sword of a different sort. . . . What would you call him?”

With a small, confident smile, Julia answered, “Dangerous.”

H
is returning erection throbbed, and Robbie traced a hand slowly down the graceful length of the spine of the woman lying prone next to him. “Are you awake, lass?”

With a sleepy stretch, Julia rolled on her side and looked at him, her gaze immediately dropping to where his cock rose high and hard against his stomach. She gave a muffled laugh. “God in heaven, McCray, I just obliged you.”

His grin was wolfish, and he caressed her bare hip, admiring her firm, pale breasts with an avid masculine examination. “I obliged
you
, and I have the marks of your nails on my back to prove it.”

His delectable wife looked remarkably unrepentant, her lush body slightly flushed and damp from their recent intercourse. She shook back her ebony curls against the tumbled bedding. “Are all men so insatiable? I had no idea.”

With swift, lazy grace, Robbie tumbled her to her back in response to that observation, settling on top of her. His mouth hovered teasingly over hers for a moment. “What other men are like is not your concern, Mrs. McCray. I am your only lover, and pleasing me often was part of our bargain, remember?”

Julia squirmed slightly, and he hardened further at the feel of her lissome form rubbing his shaft and testicles. Her green eyes flashed as she looked at him, but her arms came up to clasp around his neck with gratifying enthusiasm. “I remember, McCray.”

Robbie wickedly licked her soft lower lip, a deliberately slow, languid contact. “Besides, you knew I liked to fuck before you married me, lass. You are constantly throwing my reputation in my face. What choice do I have but to live up to it?”

Before she could answer with one of her tart replies, he captured her mouth in a long, hot kiss, his tongue leisurely exploring, his hands roaming freely. He fondled the generous curve of one tight breast, weighing it deliciously in the palm of his hand, and then moved his attentions downward. Julia made a small sound in her throat as he slid a finger along the delicate folds of her wet, warm sex and found the entrance to paradise, then slipped it inside her. Her legs parted willingly as he explored her vaginal passage, his thumb slowly rotating around the small nub of her clitoris, and she shivered in his arms.

He lifted his head and smiled. “See, you like this, beautiful Julia, don’t you?”

“It’s . . . tolerable,” she muttered, her eyes half closing as he applied just the right amount of pressure and her hips lifted in supplicant need.

What a stubbornly independent lass he had married. The journey as she discovered her sexuality was surprisingly entrancing. Usually he avoided inexperienced women, but she was . . . different. She challenged him and he found it intriguing. His brows shot up and he laughed. “Just tolerable?”

“Don’t . . . stop.” She arched against his hand and panted.

He slid his finger out almost all the way. “You seem a little needy, lass. Shall I replace this”—his finger pushed back into her velvet-soft passage—“with something more substantial?”

In answer, she moaned, and her arms tightened.

His smile was dark with desire. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

With expert ease, he entered her a second later, his stiff cock urgently penetrating her slick heat as he began a rhythm of long, quick strokes between her legs. His hunger surprised him, for he had just climaxed inside her not long before, but he still had an almost adolescent sexual need to claim her again, to find exquisite and sensational pleasure in her arms.

Beneath him, Julia made breathy sounds telling him she was enjoying it every bit as much as he was, and she rubbed his shoulders with a restless motion, her head tilted back and her dark lashes fans on her pink-tinted cheeks. The bed they occupied was a little small, and not designed for someone as tall as he, but in truth, he didn’t mind, for it meant they had to sleep in very close proximity.

He couldn’t think of a more delightful way to spend the night.

With an inward glide, he closed his eyes at the onslaught of pure pleasure, his whole body on fire with carnal joy, and embedded himself to the hilt before he slid backward, her small inner muscles clenching in response to the luscious friction. His heart thundered along like a band of running horses as his sexual peak rose and built, and he controlled his intense need to ejaculate only by sheer will, waiting until Julia’s unrestrained moans turned into a small, orgasmic scream that echoed in the darkened chamber.

The tightening of her contracting muscles around his surging cock sent him wildly over the edge. He erupted inside her, the rapturous release making him tremble, his arms shaking as he held himself still and poured his seed into his wife’s lovely, warm, soft body.

When he was finally able to put together a coherent thought, it was that he was a damned lucky man.

 

 

Her husband’s chest was hard, yet oddly enough a very comfortable place to rest. Julia lay sprawled on top of Robbie’s lean body, relaxed and pleasantly exhausted. It was a little discomfiting to realize just how easily and eagerly she had fallen under the spell of the notorious Robert McCray, at least in a sexual sense. Of course, she thought in sated, sleepy reflection, there was some truth in every legend, and beyond a doubt, the man was a talented lover.

Snuggled in his strong arms, their damp bodies fitted together, his fingers lightly tangled in her hair . . . she felt safe and cherished.

“Tell me about your brother, Julia.”

That quiet question made her lift her head. They occupied her bedchamber, and as always, when the moon was full, the long windows let the white light spill in, making it possible to see him clearly. The expression on his handsome face was neutral, and he lay back against the white bedding, watching her through half-closed dark eyes. Frowning, she said, “You wish to talk about Randal
now
?”

One ebony brow twitched upward. “I’ll regain my strength in a bit, and we can eschew conversation for a more pleasurable activity, but, yes, I wish to talk about him now.”

“Why?”

“Because I wish to find him for you.” His hand lifted and his fingers grazed her cheek in a light caress, his gaze holding hers. “Tell me what he is like. Who are his friends? What does he like to do besides write poetry and compose music? Did he have a favorite spot to go to? Did he—”

“I get the idea, McCray.” She said the words more sharply than intended, but in truth, she was very touched. Her cheek on Robbie’s bare shoulder, Julia murmured, “He has always been a dreamer. That I admit. Not practical at all. I suppose he spent a great deal of his time out-of-doors because he wished to avoid being drawn into the affairs of my father’s many holdings. He liked the cliff, where he would sit and sketch or compose music. There is also a man who lives on the other side of the village, near the woods. He was a famous bard at one time, or so they say, and even served at court. Randal often visited him. They shared a love of poetry.”