The Lover (43 page)

Of course she had missed him, damn his eyes. Since leaving the Highlands, she’d done nothing but struggle against tormenting memories of Niall. “’Tis only a temporary obsession. It will pass, I’m certain.”

“No. There is obsession as well, but I think I’ve enough experience to recognize the uniqueness of my feelings. I’ve never felt this yearning of the heart, this need to fill the loneliness. I’m empty inside without you, Sabrina. You’re in my blood. I’ll never be free of you…I don’t want to be free.”

She lifted her head to gaze at him searchingly.

“I love you, Sabrina. Can you not feel it every time I take you in my arms?”

Sabrina squeezed her eyes shut, haunted by the memory of his male body saying so openly and truthfully that he wanted her. But lust was not love. “Whatever you feel for me, it isn’t love.”

“If so, then how do you explain this appalling misery I feel when you spurn me?”

“’Tis simple. You’re like a spoiled bairn denied sweetmeats for the first time in his life.”

Niall shook his head. “I’ve never loved any woman before, Sabrina. It’s the most bewildering, joyous feeling I’ve ever known. Look at me, sweeting.”

She didn’t
want
to look at him, yet she couldn’t stop herself. She obeyed, and her heart ached to see those astonishingly warm eyes gazing so tenderly at her.

“You’re the only lass who has ever captured my heart.”

Sabrina swallowed hard, her face showing too much of the hope that fluttered in her heart. She wanted to believe him so badly that the depth of it terrified her.

“I intend to remain constant to you,” Niall replied quietly. “Upon my honor, Sabrina, I swear it.”

A shadow passed over her eyes. “It is not your honor I doubt. It is your making pledges you cannot keep.”

A breathtaking, whimsical smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Oh, I most assuredly will keep this one. Never again will I endure such torment as I have of late. My life has been a misery without you.”

“Your life was a misery
with
me, as I recall. We did nothing but fight.”

“And make love.”

“It isn’t enough, Niall. Marriage is more than lovemaking or physical pleasure. More than games or dalliance or flirtation. What we had was no true marriage.”

“No,” he said gravely, “it was not. But it will be.”

Gazing into his eyes, Sabrina felt a most disastrous weakening of the heart she was trying to steel against him. But it was foolish to succumb to his blandishments. “What I want from a union is not what you want.”

“And what do you want?”

“Love and loyalty and honesty…sharing thoughts and dreams, working together, building a future, a family.”

“You are wrong, Sabrina. I want those things as well. With you.”

When he reached for her, she was too dazed to resist.

His eyes darkening to a midnight shade, he framed her face in the gentle vise of his palms. “You are my wife, Sabrina. My only love. You belong to me. But I know I must convince you.”

My love.
She shivered. The golden-throated words seemed so natural somehow, and they warmed her as little else ever had.

To her utter dismay then, Niall bent and kissed her, a soft, mind-numbing, devastating kiss that reached inside her and tore at her heart.

When Sabrina made a despairing sound of protest, he drew back, exhaling a shuddering breath. “I swore I would not take unfair advantage of you…Very well, sweeting. You win. You may have your bed back. I shall stay out of it till you issue me a personal invitation to return.” He straightened his shoulders, as if girding his resolve. “If you wish me to make love to you, you must ask.”

“You will have a long wait.”

“Then it shall be a bleak season for me, alas.” He gave a sigh. “If you won’t have me, then I shall have no one. You see, I intend to take a vow of celibacy.”

“A vow of
what
?”

Teasingly, Niall touched a gentle finger to her mouth, which was gaping open. “Never say I’ve rendered you speechless, mouse. Celibacy. Have you not heard of the term?”

“Certainly
I
have. But I doubt you have more than a passing acquaintance with it.”

“Fortuitously, no. But I can suffer great hardships if I must. I’m a Highlander, after all.”

Her bewilderment turned to suspicion. “I cannot credit you would give up so easily.”

“Oh, I am not giving up. I’ll not abandon the war, merely alter tactics.”

He rose and turned toward the door. “Sweet dreams, my own. Mine will be unquestionably desolate. I have sworn off all carnal pursuits until you can return my love.”

She had not seen the last of him, Sabrina knew. Niall was not a man to concede failure. And he had recruited allies.

Dismayingly, her stepfather earnestly championed his cause.

“I ken the lad’s sincere,” Charles said to her at breakfast that morning. “Can you not bring yourself to return home with him where you belong?”

“I don’t belong with Niall.”

“I’m not so certain. I’ve watched you, lass. You’ve changed since you wedded him. For the better. There’s a light in your eyes that was missing before…a flush on your cheeks. You come alive when he’s near. And now that you’ve had a taste of adventure, I’ll warrant you’ll find your existence here much too tame.”

That much was true. She missed the enchantment of the Highlands, the raw beauty, the stunning vibrancy. She missed the sense of newness and adventure she’d awakened to each day as Niall’s wife and mistress of Clan McLaren. She didn’t miss the pain.

Sabrina looked down at her plate. “I never expected to find a grand passion. I only desired a quiet union, based on mutual affection and respect. A husband who could care for me…children. Niall has no desire for those things.”

“He claims to love you.”

She nodded unwillingly, torn by conflicting emotions of hope and doubt. She wanted desperately to believe Niall meant his professions of love.

“Do you love him, lass?”

She couldn’t deny it, not without lying. She did love Niall, deeply and irrevocably. She hadn’t realized how much sheer joy he added to her previously humdrum existence. When he was away, she felt empty, abandoned, bereft of his spirit. When he was near, she wanted to burrow into his embrace and become part of him, the rest of the world be damned.

What had made her think she could walk out of his life?

“Well,” Charles said solemnly as he rose from the table, “one thing is clear. He seems determined to have you. And I, for one, would not care to stand in his way.”

Her stepfather quit the room, leaving Sabrina alone with her troubled thoughts. Her stepfather was right. Niall was a dangerous, ruthless rogue determined to pursue her. He knew how to bend a woman to his every whim, and he intended to give no quarter.

But she would prove herself a match for him.

Sabrina’s chin rose stubbornly. She refused to surrender so fecklessly. Niall thought he had only to waltz back into her life and she would fall at his feet. But he was taking a great deal for granted. She was no longer the passive mouse he had wed.

He would have to earn the right to her hand.

If he sincerely wanted to resume his place as her husband, if he truly meant to give her his love and loyalty, then he would have to prove it.

Only later that morning did Sabrina begin to comprehend precisely what her renowned rake of a husband meant when he vowed to change tactics. She had been relieved when Niall left the house before breakfast, but to her dismay, he awaited her when she stepped outside accompanied by a maidservant.

“May I be of service, milady?” he queried, sweeping her the exquisite bow of a cavalier.

Sabrina shook her head, resolved to be patient. “I require no assistance, thank you, sir.”

“Where are you bound?”

“To market, if you must know.”

To her surprise, Niall dismissed the maid. The meek lass was so awestruck by the handsome Highland laird, she could only bob a curtsy and, with a pleading look at her mistress, flee back inside the house.

“I shall carry your parcels, pet,” Niall asserted innocently, anticipating Sabrina’s disapproval.

“You cannot possibly be interested in shopping for dinner.”

“In truth, my soul shrivels at the prospect, but I have a keen interest in sharing your delightful company. If this is my only avenue, then I accept with magnanimity and grace.”

Determined to repress her amusement and resist his charm, Sabrina turned and started down the narrow street. Following, Niall captured her arm, tucking her hand within the crook of his elbow. “Can you fault me for desiring a liaison with my own wife?”

She smiled sweetly. “I fault you for making a wretched nuisance of yourself.”

“’Tis not my intention, pet.”

“No? Then what
is
your intention?”

“To show you how greatly I’ve reformed. That I’ve come to my senses.”

“On the contrary, your senses have gone begging.”

“I can fully understand your skepticism. But I’ve changed my wicked ways. It remains for me to convince you of my devotion.”

“It will require an extraordinary degree of convincing.”

“I am up to the task. If you wish to be wooed, so be it.”

Sabrina halted in her tracks, gazing up at him. “I don’t wish to be wooed.”

“You deserve it, nonetheless. I made a grave mistake neglecting to shower you with the proper attention before our union. A mistake I intend to rectify forthwith.”

Sabrina took a deep breath, realizing he would insist on escorting her, whether she wished it or not. Niall McLaren was a bold, daring devil accustomed to gaining his way in all things.

“There is absolutely no need for this charade,” she replied as she resumed her pace toward the market square of old Edinburgh.

“’Tis no charade. I want the world to see how enamored I am of my wife.”

Sabrina’s only reply was a shrug.

The market was crowded and noisy, filled with the cries of fishmongers and butchers, bakers and flower merchants, all vociferously urging customers to sample their wares.

It came as no surprise to Sabrina when Niall appeared as much at ease here as he would in the most lavish ballroom or bedchamber. What took her aback was his deliberate display of affection. He was obviously intent on courting her, staking a public claim—and calling attention to his devotion in a highly visible manner.

His solicitation proved highly embarrassing when they came to a puddle of mud on a street corner. Before she knew what he was about, Niall had swept her up in his arms and carried her safely across. And then he had the audacity to chuckle at her flushed cheeks and snapping eyes.

She had scarcely recovered from that incident when they stopped at a butcher’s booth. When Niall held up a leg of lamb for her inspection, Sabrina couldn’t repress a laugh.

His eyebrow rose in mock query. “Something amuses you, sweeting?”

“I confess it diverting to see the greatest lover of all Europe stooping to forage for mutton.”

Niall grinned in response, an effect that was dazzling. “Indeed. How my friends would howl to see me dancing attendance on my wife. But there is no limit to what a man may do once struck by cupid’s arrow.”

Her smile fading, she forced herself to turn away.

Moments later, Sabrina wanted to refuse his gift when he presented her with a rose.

“For the loveliest lass of my acquaintance,” Niall murmured in a lilting tone that was pure seduction.

Breathless, Sabrina drew back. “Enough of your blethering. As mistress of my stepfather’s household, I have duties to attend to. Unlike
some
persons, pleasure is not my consummate goal in life.”

He ignored her pointed look and bent to whisper in her ear. “’Tis a pity. If there’s anything you were made for, ’tis pleasure. Your lovely body was made for arousing a man.”

Sabrina felt herself tremble at being subjected to the full force of Niall’s golden charm. The effect was devastating and oh, so successful. His sublime sensuality was potent enough to weaken her knees.

“I’ll thank you to remember your promise,” she returned unevenly.

Undaunted, Niall leaned closer and pressed a featherlight kiss on her lips. “I promised I wouldn’t try to bed you, not to abandon my suit.”

Stunned, wanting, Sabrina could only stare helplessly at him.

A cackle of laughter penetrated her dazed senses, and she glanced around to find an old crone watching them with avid delight. With a flush of embarrassment, Sabrina spun on her heel and fled, leaving Niall to follow if he would.

To her surprise and unwilling dismay, when she concluded her purchases, Niall deposited her safely at her stepfather’s doorstep and declined an invitation to enter. He made no appearance that afternoon, nor did he come to supper that evening.

That night Sabrina tossed and turned alone in her bed, cursing him for making her life such a misery.

Niall, however, spent a solitary night in a nearby inn, more concerned than he cared to admit by his wife’s spirited defiance. Women had always come so easily for him, it was rare for one to withstand a concerted assault. But if he’d thought overcoming Sabrina’s resistance would be a simple matter, he swiftly relinquished his delusions.