The Highlander's Runaway Bride (18 page)

‘Have I harmed you in any way?' She shook her head. ‘Have I threatened you or beaten you as your own father has?' Another shake. ‘Then when will you judge me by my own merits?'

And that was the true problem in this—she did not see him for himself. So many looked on him as Brodie's closest friend, as Brodie's counsellor, as a path to the chieftain's ear or notice. Rob Mackintosh the man, who offered his blood and sweat, heart and soul for kith and kin, disappeared once Brodie ascended to the chair of their clan. And he discovered there and then that he wanted her to see him for the man he was, not what others saw him to be—a means to an end. When she opened her mouth to speak, he placed his finger over her lips to forestall any false promises or apologies.

‘Nay,' he said. ‘I want not empty words to ease my temper in this matter. I want a wife. I want the wife I pledged myself to and the one who gave her vow to me. And I want her now.' He released her and stepped back. ‘I am unwilling to wait any longer, Eva.'

Rob had thought to walk away from her but did not want to give her time to give in to her misgivings and fears. So, he held out his hand to her and waited for her to accept or reject him, once and for all.

Chapter Nineteen

R
ob waited at table as long as he could before returning to their chamber. If Arabella, returned to the table for the first time since the bairn's birth, noticed his anxious behaviour, she'd said nothing. But Rob had noticed the glances exchanged by Brodie and his wife when Eva excused herself.

Well, Arabella's notice or not, Rob could not stop himself from touching his wife during the meal. Oh, not in the way he wanted to, planned to, but simple touches—his hand on hers, his mouth whispering in her ear, his leg pressing against hers—that she allowed him with no resistance. It was as though they'd broken through a dam when she reached out and took his hand earlier in the day.

And he would not be stepping back from her.

‘Oh, Robbie,' Arabella whispered from her place on the other side of her husband. ‘Go. Just go.'

He tried, truly and well, not to rush up the stairs to the room they shared, but from the laughter that followed his leave-taking from the hall, Rob knew he'd failed to make a decorous departure. He took the steps two at a time and found himself standing in the corridor outside the room, his hand frozen in the space between him and the latch.

Chiding himself for his own nervous behaviour, he lifted the latch and found Nessa brushing Eva's hair. He left the door open a bit, took the brush from the maid and knelt behind Eva. With a nod, Nessa was dismissed. Rob began to ease the brush through the long, riotous curls of his wife's hair, trying to calm his own breathing with each stroke.

He continued until all the tangles were smoothed out and then placed the brush on the table before her. He slid his hands under the length of it and gathered her hair in his hands, lifting it up to expose her graceful neck. Rob leaned in and kissed the curve of her neck and down on to her shoulder. Although she hesitated, she did not pull away. A good sign, that.

When he kissed along the side of her neck and along her jaw, she turned to him. Releasing her hair, Rob placed his hands on her shoulders and eased her to face him. Cupping her face, he drew her mouth to him, kissing her the way he'd wanted to...forever, it seemed. When she opened to him, he plundered her for the taste that was only hers.

His tongue played with hers, teasing it forward until he could suckle on it. Leaning closer, he felt her nipples harden as his chest grazed hers. The thin gown and robe she wore was no impediment at all to feeling them. He canted his head and took her tongue into his mouth, urging her to taste him.

And she did!

Soon, Eva followed his lead, matching everything he did, kiss for kiss, taste for taste. Rob slid his hands down over her arms and then around her waist, lifting her from the stool as he stood. Her slight weight was nothing to him as he held her to him, one hand now on her bottom, urging her to wrap her legs around him.

'Twas then he realised that her own arms now wrapped around his shoulders, holding on to him as he moved across the chamber. Her legs straddled his hips, his erection nestled against her, as Rob carried her to the bed.

Breathless from their kisses, he placed her on the edge of the bed and stepped back from her. Never breaking gazes with her, he loosened his belt and let his plaid drop to the floor. Smiling, he untied the laces of his tunic and pulled it over his head, tossing it aside as he waited for her to look at him. Oh, he knew she'd stolen furtive glances at him when he climbed out of bed in the morn, but he was daring her to look her fill now.

And she did. Her eyes dropped and his body reacted as though she touched his flesh, his shaft lengthening and growing thicker. The best part was that there was no fear in her eyes when she drew her gaze off his rampant flesh and back to his face. He smiled at her then, but knew his own lust must be in his gaze.

Rob reached out and loosened her belt, drawing the robe aside. Then he gathered the gown in his hand, easing it up inch by inch along her legs. With his other hand, he caressed her, following the path of the fabric until he reached the junction of her thighs. Pausing to give her one last chance to object, he slid his hand between her legs, finding her flesh heated and wet.

She reached out and steadied herself by holding on to him then. Her hands clenched and released, over and over, as he caressed those sensitive folds of flesh. But the best part, truly the best, was the wonderful little gasps with which she answered each and every stroke. And the way she began to arch against his touch. His shaft wanted to be buried deep there, but he waited. He would pleasure her first and discover all the secret places on her body that triggered those gasps and sighs.

He kissed her again, not ceasing the caresses between her legs, pleased more than he could say by the growing wetness there. Rob trailed his mouth down her throat, down the slope of her breasts and did not stop until he reached the taut tips that begged to be tasted. The gasps turned to moans as he pulled one and then the other into his mouth, teasing them with his teeth and tongue. She grabbed him then, sliding her hands into his hair and holding him there.

‘Easy,' he whispered against her, the fabric growing wetter against his own mouth.

He leaned back, pulling against her hold and then used both hands to tear the gown and rid it from his path. Finally naked before him, he gazed at her breasts and down her belly to where he wanted to be next. Giving her no warning, he slid his hands beneath her legs and pulled her down and spreading her wider for his gaze.

Though he'd worried that she would be reticent or hold back, Rob was stunned by her sensual reaction to everything he did. Her body asked for more at each pause, arching and warming to his touch. The muscles in her belly rippled as he kissed and licked a path down and down until he reached the springy curls that covered her mons.

She'd fallen back onto the bed, writhing under his mouth, but now pushed up on her elbows and watched him with a passion-filled gaze. He caressed the inside of her thighs, first with his hands and then his mouth. Her own mouth opened and she licked her lips, making his prick throb at the sight of it.

Rob waited no longer to taste the very core of her, spreading her legs and placing his mouth there. She did not moan or gasp then. Nay, she fell back to the bed in silence, though her body spoke for her. He licked along the folds and searched for the small bud that would send her over the edge to pleasure. Finding it, he caressed it with his thumb before using his tongue.

Her body bucked, her hips left the bed and she arched against his mouth, her hands in his hair now, holding him, nay pulling him closer. So he went deeper, thrusting into the place where his prick ached to be, causing her to scream out as her release came upon her. Rob did not stop, he used fingers and tongue to urge her on, pleasuring her flesh as he'd wanted to for so long. When her body began to quiet, he stood and eased her back onto the bed, kneeling between her legs.

When he slid his fingers into her, her flesh tightened around them, yet trembling from arousal and orgasm. She was ready. He placed his flesh there, dipping the head of it into her opening, ready to claim her.

‘Eva,' he whispered as he climbed over her and meeting her eyes then. ‘Am I the first?' he asked.

Rob had doubted it from the first, even used his own blood to cover the possibility or probability of her condition, and so the slight shake of her head gave him no surprise. Indeed, it gave him the freedom to take her as he wanted to, for a maiden would need more time than... So, he took her—fully, madly, deeply.

‘Then I will be the last,' he said before thrusting into her, filling her as he wanted to.

Eva heard his declaration as he entered her, nay, claimed her body. His flesh, hard and thick, slid deep inside her and her body took him in, every inch of him. He let out a sigh and closed his eyes above her for a moment.

His suspicion did not surprise her, but his asking did. But, she knew the reason for it, and it was not for blame or condemnation. It was out of consideration for her.

Now, she simply felt. Her body was like a thing unknown to her—the recent pleasure had not even dissipated before he stoked it again. This time, instead of hands and mouth, he used his own flesh to plunge deep into her and bring her body alive again. Her breasts pressed against his chest and swelled as he moved. Her skin ached for his touch. And, the woman's flesh tightened around him with every thrust. Tighter as he pulled out and thrust again and again. His mouth found hers and he searched for her tongue. She gave it, suckling on his, tasting her own essence there.

Then, Eva let go and did nothing but feel—his flesh, his strength, his body and hers. He drove her relentlessly towards that place she'd just come down from and she allowed it.

Right or wrong, it mattered not, for she'd decided in that moment earlier that she must walk away from her past and take the chance it would, it could, be better with him.

Her body tensed, something deep inside wound tighter and tighter and then snapped, releasing wave after wave of pleasure. Her blood carried it through every part of her. She felt him swell there and then, with a shout, he spilled his seed within her. It did not stop him from thrusting inside her, he did several more times before slowing and then halting. He remained deep within her, his flesh still hard there, and he kissed her over and over again.

Then, they lay there joined by flesh as their hearts and breathing calmed, his face tucked against her shoulder and neck, his breath still a warm caress on her skin. Soon, she thought him asleep, for he did not move or speak at all.

Eva tried not to look too closely at what had happened between them. Well, other than the quenching of his lust. And her enjoyment of the act. 'Twas nothing more than had happened in countless other marriages made out of political necessity or out of convenience. That he was considerate of her, seeing to her pleasure before his, was not unexpected after all.

Now, she understood why those women smiled like a well-fed cat when they looked on him. It was not only his looks or strength—it was his manner of bed play. She glanced at his relaxed body and felt his flesh yet within her. Aye, no wonder they wanted him to return to their beds.

‘What are you thinking, wife?' he asked. ‘I can practically hear thoughts ruminating inside that head of yours.' He lifted his head and looked at her. He narrowed his gaze and examined her closely. ‘Do you regret it?'

‘Nay. No regrets,' she said truthfully.

‘Then what plagues you now?' He eased his upper body from hers and stared, his gaze demanding the truth. ‘I want your candour in this, Eva.'

She did not want to share her thoughts about the other women he'd had before her, but decided that having truth between them from this day on was important. Even knowing his probable reaction, she revealed her thoughts to him.

‘I understand now why Fiona and the others want you in their beds.'

Silence greeted her revelation, not at all what she expected. Then he laughed, sliding free of her and lying back next to her. Eva rolled to her side and watched him. After a few moments, he met her gaze.

‘I did not expect those to be your thoughts, Eva. Though, I admit, it does please me to know you enjoyed this.'

‘Will you be insufferable now?' she asked.

‘Nay, wife, not insufferable at all,' he said, rolling to his side and facing her.

He slid the torn gown and robe off her shoulder, leaving her completely naked and open to his sight. Reaching out, he slid the back of his hand down over her breasts and then her belly, leaving it resting on the curls between her thighs. She fought the urge, the need, to open her legs and invite him there once more. She noticed that his flesh moved and began to lengthen.

‘I take it as a challenge,' he said, easing only a finger deep into her cleft and finding her eager flesh. ‘What has happened so far is only a taste.' He leaned over and kissed her then, open-mouthed and possessively. ‘But I plan to show you why you should keep me in yours.'

And he did.

* * *

By the time the sun's light shone into their chamber, there was not a place on her body he had not touched or kissed or tasted. There was no response he had not drawn from her, from laughing to crying to screaming out her pleasure or whimpering her need of him.

He would not tolerate her compliance in his demands, he urged her to participate in their pleasure and passion. She touched and caressed his body, enjoying the chance to run her hands over the masculine, sculpted muscles of his chest and back and thighs she'd only been able to see before. And Eva learned a few things about pleasing him, as well.

Though she expected to go about their daily routines, Nessa discovered a very naked and rampant Rob Mackintosh when she opened the chamber door to bring in water that morning. A squeal and a slam and they were alone once more.

When the sun reached high in the sky, he made no attempt to leave. Indeed, after several more inventive joinings she'd not thought possible in her inexperience, they slept, limbs entwined. A second knock at their door went unanswered until Nessa said Arabella's name.

Instead of a summons back to duty and daily tasks, they found a bucket of steaming water and a tray filled with food. Nessa had long run off, probably fearing what she would witness should Rob open the door as he had the last time she attempted entry.

The rest of that day and night were a blur to her—his hunger spurred on her own and they would join, then rest, eat when food appeared outside their door, and then begin again.

And again.

And again.

* * *

Only Brodie's loud knock and call back to duties drew Rob from her but not before paying her attention he claimed was so she would not forget him in his absence.

As though it would be possible.

Once he left their chamber, a bath appeared as did her maidservant. Nessa fell into her pattern of chattering about the goings-on at Drumlui Keep in her absence these last two nights and a day. Only when she approached the hall, with its curious people and servants, did she hesitate.