The Highlander's Reward (18 page)

“You use your hand.” Still allowing him to kiss her neck, she slid her fingers along his arm until she reached his hand. She stroked her fingers over his palm until she reached the outer side of his hand. “Just here.” She tapped the hard side of his hand below the pinky.

“Here?” he asked, touching the same spot on her hand and then bringing it to his lips.

She watched, her mouth partially open, as he kissed the spot on her hand. A shiver washed through her and took with it some of the ache.

“Aye,” she whispered.

“And what do I do next?” He laid her back on the ground, stroking her hair from her face.

One knee pressed between her thighs, h
e loomed above her, and all of Arbella’s body strained for their two forms to connect. Her chest heaved upward with each breath, her pelvis tilted, even her knee came up to cradle his hip.

She found his hand again. “Straighten your
hand, put all of your energy into this one hand. ’Tis your weapon. And you strike, here.” She pressed his fingers to the place on her neck where her heart pulsed rapidly.

“Your heart is beating fast, lass.” He kissed her pulse, suckled at the spot until she whimpered for more.
“’Tis a sensitive spot for kisses and strikes.”

“Aye,” she breathed. She reached up and touched his neck, feeling his pulse equally pounding in tune with hers. Gripping the back of his neck, she tugged him down and placed her lips there, mimicking the same kissing, licking motions he bestowed upon her.

Magnus growled low in his throat, burying his face in the crook of her neck. With his knee he nudged her legs wider and settled himself fully in the center.

The contact sent a bolt of lightning zigzagging through her.

“I’ve missed ye, Arbella.”

She found his confession funny, and laughed. “We’ve not been apart overlong.”

“Has been too long.”

When he pressed his erection hard against her center and her body answered his call by quivering and growing slick, she agreed most heartily with his admission.

“Oh, aye,” she managed.

“I want to make love to ye.
Dinna deny me, else I resort to begging.”

“What if someone were to come and see us?”

“Then they will bear witness to my fondness for ye.”

She smiled against his neck and threaded her fingers through his hair. “Then let us hope we are quite alone.”

With that said, she tilted her head up and pressed her lips to his. She’d wanted so badly to kiss him earlier that afternoon when he’d come to her after Ina’s intrusion. She’d wanted more than anything to sink into his embrace, to feel the weight of his body on hers, to treasure what joy he could bring to her. And now here they were, in the chill dusk, inside a cave on the beach. A beach she’d wanted to visit but had not had the chance to until now. She would never be able to look at the sandy shore the same way again.

Magnus kissed her tenderly at first, then hungrily, demanding. His tongue thrust into her mouth to duel with hers. But she was just as urgent, tugging at his lips with her teeth,
caressing his tongue in fervent circles with her own. Stroking, toying, pushing, pulling.

Intensity burned between them.
Their kisses left them breathless, panting, their bodies fully heated. Every fiber ached for his touch, and he did not leave her disappointed. He tugged on her gown exposing her breasts to the cool air, but he quickly warmed them with his tongue.

Arbella was determined to give her husband the same pleasure he gave her. She yanked on his
leine
shirt in jerky movements as he would not remove his lips from her breasts.

“Take it off,” she demanded in a hoarse whisper.

Magnus chuckled, but acquiesced to her demands, tossing his shirt somewhere on the darkened cave floor.

Arbella ran her hands over the dips and creases of his muscled torso, brushing her thumbs over his small nipples. They were hard like hers, but still so different. His chest was taut, sprinkled with hair. She stroked again and listened for the hiss of his breath. Then she pushed his mouth from her breast so she could have better access to his nipple. Tentatively, she licked at the hardened flesh.

“Och, wife…” he said through gritted teeth.

She smiled against his flesh
. Encouraged by his moan, she sucked his nipple into her mouth. Arbella kissed her way to the other side, her hands splayed over his flexed muscles.

“Your body is so different from mine,” she whispered, looking up into his eyes.

“Aye. I like yours much better.” Magnus gently nudged her back down.

She laid back, her hair and his plaid cushioning her head. As she stared up at her husband, she had
the urge to tell him just how much she cared about him. Even opened her mouth, but his kiss cut off the words she was about to spill.

She was relieved she hadn’t said them… Relieved because she was afraid he wouldn’t say them back.

Magnus’ warmth covered her. His mouth worshipped hers as his hands skimmed over her bare thighs. He lifted her skirts to her waist, this thumb circling over her hip bone.

“So soft,” he murmured, trailing kisses over her chin and to her neck again.

“So strong,” she answered, kneading the muscles of his bare back.

“
All the better to ravage ye,” he chuckled, teething her nipple.

She sighed in answer, watching as he worked her sensitive flesh with his mouth.
’Twas the most sensuous thing she’d ever envisioned. He moved toward her other breast at the same time she felt him rub his thick length along the crevice between her thighs. Flashes of pleasure reverberated inside her and along her limbs. She lifted her hips, wanting to feel more.

“Do ye like when I touch
ye?”

“Aye.”
She more than liked it, she craved it, needed it. Would breathe it if she could.

“I like it verra much as well.”

“Don’t stop.”

“I dinna plan to stop…ever.”

The thought of forever making love was a delicious dream. Slowly he entered her, filling her completely. She spread her thighs wider, wrapping them around his waist. Magnus stroked up her thigh, hooking one leg over his arm. In that position he seemed to sink deeper within her. The sensation was overpowering.

Their gazes connected, both filled with potent heat and desire.
Her entire body tingled, especially the place where they were joined.

Magnus began to move with slow and steady strokes. He pulled almost all the way out,
then sank deep inside. Arbella matched his strokes with the rise and fall of her hips. She caressed his shoulders and his chest, marveling at the things he did to her body. The pressure inside her built to a delicious precipice, with just one more nudge she’d be flying through the sky. With his steady pace, her body only stayed there, torturing her with exquisite pleasure, but not quite reaching its climax.

“Oh, Magnus…faster…please,” she pleaded.

She didn’t know how she knew that was what she wanted, but imagining him pounding inside her made her want to scream out with delight. She didn’t have to imagine it. Magnus quickened his pace, his pelvis arching up into hers with faster, shorter strokes.

He let go of her leg, cradling her shoulders and head as her kissed her with carnal passion. Arbella wrapped her legs around his hips once more
, trying with everything she had to keep up with his thrusts. The pleasure was so intense, taking over all thought. She writhed beneath him. Kissed him back with abandon, and let go of her last threads of control. The pressure that had been building at last released into a storm of sensation.

Arbella cried out, her entire body shuddering uncontrollably. Magnus too,
quaked. His guttural declaration of, “My love,” making her soaring body fly even higher.

Several hours later, Arbella bl
inked open her eyes.

Darkness filled the cave.

She shivered, still barely clothed from making love with Magnus. The torch had gone out and above the moon shined along with a thousand twinkling stars. She sat up, looking out over the water. ’Twas a beautiful black sea, reflections from the stars and moon glistening on its surface.

Magnus caressed her back. “We fell asleep,” he said with wonder.

“Aye. How long do ye think we slept?”

He sat up beside her, heat radiating from his flesh.
“Looks to be near midnight.”

Arbella’s stomach growled. She’d not eaten anything since the nooning.

“Seems ye worked up an appetite.”

She laughed and bumped her shoulder against his arm. “I was not alone in that feat.”

“I would do it again…” His words trailed off and he took her hand, placing it on his growing arousal.

Hunger for food forgotten, she rolled on top of her husband and showed him just how much of an appetite she had for him.

Chapter Eighteen

“Why dinna ye use the strike on Keith when he attacked ye?” Magnus asked the following morning just before dawn as they made the short ride back to Dunrobin.

“He grabbed me from behind, surprised me. I hadn’t a chance.
When he threw me to the ground I tried, but he pinned my hands beneath me.” Arbella had fought like a wildcat to get him off her, but the man had been strong, his madness making his strength even more potent.

“I see.
Why did ye use it on me?” he teased. “I wasna going to harm ye, just make love to ye.”

She sighed. “I was angry with you, Magnus. I felt betrayed, like you meant to use me for your own ill will.
That you had a wife already. I had to get away, and you know I—” She couldn’t believe how hard it was to admit how much she desired him.

“Ye what?” he urged.

“I cannot resist your kisses.” She shook her head and looked to the ground.

“Do ye still want me to ask permission? I confess ‘twill be ver
y hard to resist the temptation to kiss your lips whenever I wish.”

She smiled, still feeling euphoric after their night of lovemaking. Only the day before she’d been avoiding him, and now they both seemed to have let go of whatever they were hold
ing back. Their secrets spilled and apologies accepted. They could move forward, seek out the happiness she so desperately wanted. “You needn’t ask.”

Shouts rang out from the gatehouse as they approached the castle.

“Seems you were missed, Laird Sutherland.”

“Aye.
No doubt Ronan will feel the need to bristle in my ears.”

She patted his hands. “He loves you. There is nothing wrong with that. He has a hard position in the clan. Third son, where does he fit in?”

“He needs a wife. Preferably one that makes him a leader. He was born to lead. Perhaps more so than Blane who is happy to traipse between Scotland and England with none the wiser to his true place of birth.”

“Does Ronan have a woman he wishes to pursue?”

Magnus chuckled. “He pursues many women.”

Arbella
playfully wacked his hand resting on her waist. “I meant one he’d likely marry.”

“Nay.
He doesna want to marry.”

“Oh.”

“My laird!” Gavin rushed toward them, Ronan and Heather hot on his heels. “We worried for your safety.”

“Where the hell have ye been?” Ronan asked, more to the point.

“Aye, what he said,” Heather chimed in, her hands on her hips.

Arbella had to press her lips together to keep from laughing. They all were a bunch of meddlers.

“We are safe as ye can see. Do ye need me to remind ye who is laird?” Magnus growled.

While his voice was gruff, he gently set
Arbella on the ground and then dismounted behind her.

The
ir three greeters shook their heads. Ronan, however, opened his mouth to speak again, but Magnus held up his hand and shook his head.

“I willna hear any more from ye. We’ve had an incident.
Inside, and I shall tell ye more.”

At hearing that, and his fierce glare, they all looked contrite, nodding their heads slightly.

Magnus made his way to the castle with all of them following behind. “Close the gates!” he shouted. “Clear the fields! Prepare for an attack!”

“What?” Gavin, Ronan and Heather said at once.

Magnus didn’t answer them; he simply stalked inside the keep, his frame large and imposing. Arbella walked beside him, proud to call him her husband.

If he were a dragon like the tales he’d heard growing up, smoke would be billowing from Magnus’ flared nostrils. He seethed at the knowledge the Ross clan might retaliate, but more than anything he was irritated beyond measure at his brother and sister for their lack of confidence in him.

Had he not proven over the years he was a good leader?

“Brother,” Heather said, catching up to him. “I know what ye’re thinking and
’tis not true.”

He rounded on her.
“How could ye know what I am thinking?”

She smiled, some of his anger melting with her
mirth-filled face. “’Tis written all over your face.”

Magnus stopped in the center of the great hall and crossed his arms over his chest. Now he was more irritated with himself. He’d never let their interference bother him before. His confidence had never suffered either. Why now did he feel these things?

His gaze flicked to his wife. She stared at him with admiration and pride. ’Twas a look he’d not seen on her face before now. His chest swelled, and he couldn’t help winking at her. Arbella blushed a pretty pink. She was the reason his thoughts were jumbled. The reason he couldn’t seem to get a grip on his own self-control and self-assuredness.

Women.
He frowned. Then realized his frown was directed at her when her smile faltered. He turned to his brother.

“Arbella was attacked on the road.”

“What was she doing on the road?” Ronan asked.

“I though
t ye were going for a walk?” Heather accused Arbella at the same time Ronan spoke.

“Ye knew she was leaving?” Magnus asked Heather.

“I was going for a walk,” Arbella said, her face bright red.

“How far away?”
Ronan asked.

“Pretty far,” Heather mumbled.

“How the hell did she get past the guards?” Gavin threw in, his hands fisted on his hips, an exasperated look on his face.

“Aye, how did ye get past the guards?” The question had not occurred to
Magnus before now. “Did ye knifehand strike them as well?”

Arbella smiled ruefully. “Mayhap I did.”

“Knifehand strike?” Ronan asked, a look of awe on his face. “Who did ye strike?”

Arbella remained tight-lipped, and Magnus wasn’t quite sure he wanted to admit that his wife had bested him.
Laid him flat.

“Answer the question. Did ye hit one of the guards?
” he demanded of his wife.

“I simply waited until they were distracted and then I ran.”

Heather piped in, “She hit Magnus.”

He grunted.
Rubbed the spot on his neck that still had a slight ache. He’d have to talk with his guards. If his wife could just run away, any manner of man or woman could sneak into their gates.

“My laird.”
Gavin’s voice interrupted his admiring perusal of the woman standing before him.

“Aye?”

“Now that we’ve established how she escaped, might ye fill us in on what happened after she ran off?”

“
’Haps it’d best be told from your lips, lass.” He’d thought it a good idea for Arbella to share with the group what she’d seen, but the look of panic that crossed her face and the fact that she paled a few shades told him he was wrong. “Ross men. They said their mistress sent them to exact revenge. Arbella just happened to come across them before they could make it down into the valley. We’re not sure what they would have done had they made it that far.”

“Did they hurt
ye?” Heather’s voice was soft, soothing. She reached out a hand to Arbella who gladly took it. “Your gown does look a little ragged. And your shoes are well worn. Come let me get ye some ale and leave the men to discuss the Ross clan.”

Arbella gazed up at him, but he couldn’t read her expression. He nodded toward her, hoping whatever it was she needed he gave to her.

As soon as the women were out of earshot, Ronan stepped forward. “I told ye ’twas going to come to shit when ye didna marry Ina.”

Magnus rolled his eyes. “And I told ye to marry the little wench, but ye didna want to, so mayhap we are both to blame.”

Ronan growled under his breath.

“If ye two are done with your pissing match, let us forge a plan
,” Gavin said, drawing the sharp attention of both brothers who glared and crossed their arms over their chests.

Gavin shrugged. “Well, shall we?”

Magnus decided to ignore Gavin’s momentary lapse of judgment of his place in the hierarchy, and instead did as his guard suggested. “When ye both arrived at Ross lands, what did the Ross say?”

“He wasna there, my laird,” Gavin answered.

“But Ina was plenty in a rage, and several of the Ross warriors looked ready to take our heads. I told them to relay to the Ross that ye’d want to make it up to him, and as soon as he returned to send for ye or to come to Dunrobin to discuss it.” Ronan shook his head. “She was spitting mad, brother. I wouldna want to be on the end of her fury.”

Magnus nodded. “Ye have no idea how much I regret ever agreeing to the match.”
He swiped his hand over his face, going through in his mind all they knew. “So we can be sure the Ross did not send those men who attacked Arbella. ’Tis good to know that not all is lost yet. Most likely she’s got a few of the clansmen wrapped around her finger and they were outraged for her.”

“What is the likelihood that she’ll send another batch?” Gavin asked.

“I dinna know. My wife injured both men. Not life threatening wounds, but enough so she could escape them.” Pride would have Ina retaliating.

Ronan snickered. “She seems to be very good at injuring just enough to escape.”

Magnus rolled his eyes, but let out a short laugh. “I willna live it down, I know this. But best ye be minding your tongue or I’ll use her strike on ye.”

Ronan clapped his brother on the back. “I shall look forward to it.”

Magnus shoved his brother playfully, then turned serious once more. “We need to make sure that all the clansmen have been warned. I wouldna put it past Ina to send one more message. She will be in a surly mood when she sees her men have been injured. We also need to find out where Ross is. A message needs to be sent, else his daughter may well put our two clans at war.”

“I shall go in search of him. What message, my laird?” Gavin said.

“Tell him that the match will not go on as planned, but that we will offer sanctuary to all the Ross clan and an allegiance to them as well—as long as Ina ceases in her attacks on our lands.”

“A cryptic note like that makes it seem she attacked before ye broke it off,” Ronan pointed out.

“Aye. ‘Twill be enough to get the Ross moving.”

“Aye, but what if he asks me the cause of the attacks and your decisions to pass on the betrothal?”

“Simply tell him that Ina’s true nature was revealed to me.”

Ronan shook his head. “Ye are clever brother, but—”

“Dinna say it. I know what ye’re thinking. This will only lead to trouble. I think not. The Ross knows his daughter’s disposition, else he would have married her off instead of begging me year after year to take her.”

“True enough.”

Ronald hurried into the great hall, his expression guarded. “My laird, riders approach.”

“Can ye see their colors?”

“Aye, there are many colors.”

“’Tis not a Ross band then.”
Magnus marched toward to the doors and into the courtyard. He hurried to the climb the tower stairs and gazed out over the landscape at the vast amount of riders coming toward them. At their head he recognized the leader of the rebels—William Wallace. “What the hell is he doing here?”