The Magnificent Rogue (36 page)

“There’s every reason. Why the devil will you not—” He broke off as he saw the stubborn set of her chin. “Why am I wasting my breath?” He took her hand and turned her away from the cliff. “Let’s go back to the castle.”

“Why? I like it here.”

“We’ll come back another time.” He smiled crookedly. “It may be spring, but it’s too cold to take you on the ground, and I feel the need to have you demonstrate just how harmonious we can be together. I trust you have no objection?”

She looked down at the baby seals on the rocks below. If all went well, God might grant her a babe herself by the time the seals came back next year. “No objection at all.”

“You fool!” Alec snarled as his hand cracked against his son’s cheek. “Can I trust you for nothing?”

Duncan fell to the stones of the courtyard, and before he could rise, Alec kicked him in the ribs. “I leave Kilgranne for only a short time, and you let this happen. How long has she been gone?”

“Two weeks.” Duncan scrambled away from another kick and rose to his feet. “I couldn’t help it. Gavin snatched her away before we knew he was here.”

Alec doubted the truth of his words. Duncan was soft as a woman where his sister was concerned. He would never have dared defy Alec if he’d been here at Kilgranne, but he was capable of working behind his back. “Where did he take her?”

“How should I know?” Duncan asked evasively.

“You should know because you should have pursued them,” Alec thundered. “But since you did not, I’m sure you’ve gathered rumors from the families in the glen. Did he take her to Craighdhu?”

Duncan hesitated.

“Duncan, I need an heir, so I cannot kill you, but I will make sure you do not rise from your bed for a month if you fail to answer me.”

“They’re not at Craighdhu,” Duncan said reluctantly. “They were there only to wed before they moved on.” He added hastily, “Or so I hear.”

“And what else do you hear?”

“That they sailed from Craighdhu on a fishing boat the day after they wed.”

“To what destination?”

“I don’t know.”

Alec believed him this time. Gavin was no fool and would not bandy about such news. But there were always ways to find out information. The MacDarren clan were closely linked to families here on the mainland as well as on the island itself. Someone would know.

Someone would be persuaded to speak.

And what then? It went without saying, the boy must be punished for his actions and his daughter learn the penalty of defiance. Dammit, if Gavin and Jean were still at Craighdhu, he might have had the opportunity to seize the prize fate had offered him, the prize that was now in Robert MacDarren’s possession. Since Robert had sent the newlyweds away, he had no excuse to call on James for help to invade Craighdhu, and the island was impregnable without the assault only the king could provide. Yet there must be some way he could use this temporary defeat to his advantage.

He had only to seek it out.

A
glory of purple
heather covered the slope leading to the edge of the cliff overlooking the barrens.

Kate stared in wonder at the stunted growth that had been transformed from brown ugliness to a symphony of graceful lavender stalks.

“Beauty to feed the soul,” she murmured. “I didn’t believe it when you told me.” She slipped down from Caird and ran up the slope. “It’s … wonderful.” She stood on the edge of the cliff and exultantly held out her arms and let the sun stream down on her, the scent of heather and sea surround her. “Dear God, I love this place.”

“Well, don’t love it so much you fall off the cliff. You look like you’re going to take off and fly.”

“I might. It’s a day bright enough for miracles.” She glanced back over her shoulder to find him still at the bottom of the hill quietly watching her. “Someday I might see if I can.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if you could, if you willed it so.”

“But isn’t it wonderful, Robert?”

“Wonderful.” He smiled indulgently as he took a blanket from his pack and then followed her up the
slope. “But then you find everything about Craighdhu wonderful.”

“It is. And if you don’t see it, then you’ve become entirely too jaded and critical. It’s fortunate I’ve come to show you Craighdhu’s true worth.”

“I’m humbly grateful for your condescension in doing so.” He spread out the blanket, then sat down beside her and looped his arms around his bare knees.

He looked a barbaric, primitive figure, she thought contentedly, all gleaming bronze skin and tousled black hair. She loved him best like this, with no trace of the wary, cynical man she had first known. He had taken to wearing the kilt almost constantly during the two months since Gavin’s wedding and had shed his shirt during the ride to the barrens. She felt a sudden urge to touch him, to reach out and stroke the tight, corded muscles of his abdomen, but she restrained the impulse. Not yet. That would only lead to passion, and she wanted to savor this special moment. “And you’re never humble. I never saw a man with less doubt of his own self-worth.”

“Your acquaintance with men has been very limited to date. I hardly think you’d say your Sebastian was lacking in self-esteem.”

“True. But you Scots are far more arrogant. I’ve decided that it’s the primary trait of your nationality.”

“Then, as the daughter of the queen of all the Scots, you should have more than your share.”

Two months ago the mention of her mother would have sent a faint uneasiness through her, but nothing could disturb the euphoric state she was in today. “Oh, I do have my share of arrogance. But we women have need of that quality when men are constantly trying to subdue us. It’s our only way to survive.”

“Your mother didn’t survive.”

His tone was still casual, but she could detect the slightest hint of grimness and quickly directed their badinage in a more cheerful direction. “But Elizabeth
has survived for over thirty years, and you say she’s the most arrogant woman on the face of the earth.”

“Or in heaven or hell,” he said grimly.

“Yet she tried to be kind to me.”

“Not kind enough to make sure the guardian she chose was adequate for the task.”

“You resent her still? I think you condemn her too harshly. She was only doing what she thought best for me.”

“Elizabeth seldom considers the good of any individual when her own good or the good of her country is in the balance.”

“Then you should approve of her. You said you would not follow my mother because she was a woman of impulse.”

He scowled. “I do
not
approve of that red-haired bitch.”

She had never seen him like this, she thought in amusement. He was like a sulky little boy. “Because she bested you and made you do her will.” She grinned. “But would you follow her in battle?”

“I told you I fight only under Craighdhu’s banner.”

“But if you had a common purpose? Would you?” she persisted.

“Aye,” he growled.

She clapped her hands in delight. “And you would not follow James, and he is a man. You see, arrogant women do have a place in the world.”

“It’s not her arrogance, it’s her mind and will that have value.”

“But how else could she prevail? Meekness does not serve a ruler well.”

“I’m tired of this talk of Elizabeth.”

Her lips twitched. “Because it reminds you of how she bested you?”

He was suddenly straddling her, looking down into her face. “You’re right,” he murmured silkily. “The thought of being bested arouses my temper and makes
me want to dominate everything and everyone around me. Would you care to be dominated, Kate?”

She frowned. “I’ve never liked it before.”

“But I’d do it quite differently from your Sebastian. Let me try.”

“Oh, very well. If you think I’ll enjoy it.” He had never done anything she did not enjoy. It was all pleasure and joy. Her hands slipped under his kilt to cup his hard buttocks in her palms. “I’ve decided I like this garment. It’s very convenient.”

“I noticed you’ve found it so. I admit I’ve worn it more in the last month than ever in my life.” His lids half closed as he smiled wickedly down at her. “But then I could scarcely do anything else. I wouldn’t want your immodesty to go unmatched.”

He meant the habit she had taken to of wearing a minimum of underclothing herself, as she wanted to make herself available to him at all times. She chuckled. “Well, you would not give me a kilt of my own.”

“Because I didn’t want to let my clansmen know what an eager wife I have. It would only have made them unsatisfied with their own lot.” He leisurely unbuttoned her gown to the waist and then parted it to bare her breasts. “Aye, very eager.”

Her breasts were beginning to tauten beneath his gaze. “Then do something about it,” she demanded.

He shook his head. “I like to look at you.”

From his position on top of her she was aware that he would like to do more than stare, but he sat there, unmoving, intent, watching her body ripen.

“Oh, I like that,” he said softly. “What a woman you are. It takes only a look and you respond.”

He swung off her and began to undress her, taking his time. She tried to help him, but he stopped her. “No, let me. I told you I was in the mood to dominate.”

“How can you dominate, if you wait on me?” she scoffed.

“By controlling the speed of the play.” He now had her naked except for her silk stockings and the leather garters that held them in place above the knee. He untied the garter on her right limb and began slowly to roll the stocking down her leg, his fingers trailing a feather-light path along the flesh of her thigh.

A shudder went through her, and muscles clenched beneath his touch.

“I’m glad you got rid of those woolen stockings,” he murmured. “These are much more pleasant.” He rubbed the sensitive spot behind her knee.

She arched upward off the blanket as the touch generated a flash of heat that seemed to strike directly into her womb.

“What a fascinating sensitivity you have there. I can’t tell you how happy I am that I discovered it.” He drew the stocking off and gently touched the sole of her foot. “And here.”

The muscle of her calf spasmed as her foot arched. She drew a deep breath. It was all very well for him to play his games, but this was taking entirely too long. “That is not the sensitive place to which I wish you to apply yourself.”

“Presently.” He untied the other garter and put it aside. “Perhaps.”

“Perhaps! If you think—” She stopped as she saw his mischievous grin. He looked wicked, reckless, and infinitely sensual. She had never seen him quite like this, and the sudden change intrigued her. His mood might be devilish, but she knew he would not be able to keep himself from giving her satisfaction or taking his own. But if she could restrain herself, perhaps he would grow impatient, and that end might come sooner. She met his gaze and then deliberately lay back on the blanket. “It’s possible that I may grow bored with all this folderol.”

“Ah, a challenge.” He sat back on his heels and looked at her lying naked before him. “Now what can
I do to meet it?’ He reached down and picked up the two leather garters. “Shall I show you one of the things I learned in Spain?”

“You’ve already shown me any number of things.”

“But this has to do with textures. You displayed an interest in them at one time, and I’ve always had a certain preoccupation with them.” He took one of the garters and bent over her. “No, lie quite still. You know I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“What are you doing?” She watched as he encircled her left breast with the strip of leather and then slowly tightened the spiral until both the tip and an area about one inch in diameter were thrown upward in relief.

“How does it feel?”

“Strange. There’s … pressure.”

“But it doesn’t hurt?”

“No.” The butter-soft leather was smooth and warm against her flesh and the pressure slight. “I can barely feel it.”

“You will.” He was binding her right breast with the other garter. “Even this little stricture will cause the blood to rise to your nipples and make them very sensitive.” He finished tying the leather and sat back and looked at her. “It’s already starting,” he said thickly. “Do you feel it?”

She was beginning to experience a faint tingling, and when she glanced down at the leather bonds against her flesh, the tingling deepened.

“Yes?” Robert asked.

She looked at him and realized at once that the act had excited him as much as it did her. Surely, he could not continue very much longer. “Perhaps a little.” She feigned a yawn. “Though I think I’m growing sleepy.”

“Then we must certainly wake you up.” He sat down beside her and leisurely spread her legs and looked at her. “But I think this part of you needs little
stirring.” He reached behind her. “However, we will do it anyway.”

Coolness against her hotness, a faint earthy roughness against the heart of her.

“What are you—”

He held it up to show her. He had plucked a stalk of heather and had been rubbing it against her. The stalk was fully twelve inches long, with a thick purple stem, close-leaved green shoots, and feathery spikes of bell-shaped flowers.