Deception of a Highlander Page 5

  Kieran scrubbed his face with his hands and let his weight sink into the bed’s soft mattress. The sensation of Mariel’s lips lingered on his mouth and left him aching with need. He should not have given in to temptation. He should not have kissed her, even if he knew Gaira’s impending arrival would keep him from taking more than he should.

  A gentle knock at his door filled him with a mix of eagerness and trepidation. If Mariel stood on the other side of that door, would he turn her away? Desire throbbed hard and hot against his belly.

  Could he turn her away?

  He rose to open the door. When it swung open, Gaira sauntered into the room. Not Mariel. The innkeeper did not ask to be invited in as she made her way to the bed and shook out a blanket.

  “This is the warmest one I could find. It should do nicely.” She draped the heavy wool across his narrow bed and turned back toward him. Her arms clasped behind her back, all but shoving her breasts under his nose. “Is that all ye need, then?” Intent sparkled in her eyes.

  His body rose to the blatant suggestion. This was the kind of woman he was used to—one he could take and not feel guilty about. One who would expect nothing when morning came. Gaira took another step toward him and pulled at the lacing of her bodice. Her breasts swelled dangerously over the top of their confines.

  “Perhaps it isna a blanket ye need to stay warm tonight.” She leaned into him and the bulk of her bosom brushed his chest.

  His body throbbed for release. He had no ties to Mariel. He’d made no promises to her. What was one willing woman between friends?

  “Perhaps.” His answer was intentionally noncommittal as he stared down at her.

  But Gaira required little encouragement. She rose up on her toes and pressed her lips to his neck.

  Desire that had only moments before pounded through him dulled to nothing. She kissed him with a passion he did not share.

  Gaira was not the one he wanted.

  The woman he wanted had turned away with a wounded look. She confused him, excited him, and elicited such a visceral response within him that he longed to show her exactly how badly he needed her.

  Kieran stepped back from Gaira and struggled over what to say. She regarded him with a nonchalance that suggested her lack of offense.

  “Maybe I’m no the woman who ought to be warming yer bed tonight,” she said with a good natured wink.

  “I should stick with the extra blanket,” he murmured irritably.

  Gaira pressed a kiss to his cheek and slipped out the door.

  Kieran stalked across the room toward his bed. What the hell was the matter with him? He couldn’t bring himself to take what Mariel offered, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to do anything with any other woman either? Frustration rattled in his brain and desire ached deep within his bollocks. He settled on his bed and jerked his head back against the pillow.

  The night could get no worse.

  He heaved a long sigh and pulled the blankets over his chest when a giggle sounded from the other side of the wall. Colin’s room. Kieran closed his eyes and turned on his side in a futile attempt to get comfortable.

  A groan broke the silence followed by another giggle. Kieran turned to the other side and slapped a pillow over his head. It did little to block the panting and guttural moans. Did they have to be so damn loud?

  After enduring several rounds of Colin’s exploits, a blanket of darkness soothed Kieran’s tired lids and eased the tension along his brow. He had just plunged into the mindless black of sleep when a shriek ripped into his subconscious. He bolted out of bed and was already down the hall when the second scream sounded. The hair on his arms rose with realization.

  The cries came from Mariel’s room.

  Chapter Eight

  Mariel lay upon the filthy floor, broken and bleeding. The darkness was like a weight that squeezed against her flesh and pressed into her eyes. Her empty stomach heaved at the rich copper odor in the stale air. Panic hovered on the border of her consciousness.

  “You’ll learn not to disobey Aaron.”

  She froze at the low, grating voice of her torturer and swallowed the fear welling thick in her throat. He would not win. Not this time.

  Her fingers splayed against the grit of the floor and came away slick with moisture. The room echoed with her ragged breathing as her hands stretched blindly before her toward a nightmare she shouldn’t face, yet could not bring herself to ignore.

  She brushed something cool, something once supple and now unnaturally firm. Her fingertips patted until she recognized the shape of a nose. The frantic beat of her heart roared in her ears. She traced the rounded edge of a chin and continued further until she reached the neck.

  It was too late to stop her hands from moving, too late to stop the horror of her discovery from gripping her in its icy hold. She was at its mercy. Her fingers sank into the gaping slit that had sprayed her with the gore now dried upon her skirts.

  Screams filled the small room, raw and inhuman. Her screams. And on the other side of the door, the crescendo of a high, wheezing laugh.

  A solid mass locked her arms against her sides. Fear crowded all thought from her mind, and she lashed against the restraint with the final vestiges of her energy.

  • • •

  Kieran tightened his grip on Mariel in an effort to still her thrashing. Her slender body writhed with incredible strength.

  “No.” Her voice was hoarse, but she showed no signs of tiring.

  “Mariel,” he said softly. “Shhh, lass. It’s Kieran. Ye need to wake.”

  Her struggle ceased, but her arms remained tense beneath his hands, and her breathing ragged. Quivering fingers skimmed his face in the semidarkness. She gave a choked cry. Her slick palm rested against the center of his throat and she went still.

  He wrapped his arms around her trembling form, drawing her against him as her soft sobs filled the silence, and the warmth of her tears tickled his naked chest.

  “It’s all right now,” he crooned, “everything is all right now.” He had said those words before when he cradled a body too thin, too battered. His heart flinched from the thought.

  Five years had passed since Brennan’s death. Kieran’s mind shied from the thought of his brother’s name and the pain it bore. Clan MacDonald had lost more than a laird the day he died. They’d lost a true leader. Though no one pointed a finger, Kieran had been at fault.

  He would not make the same mistake twice. His heart burned with determination as the image of Blair and Dougal surfaced in his mind. He had sworn he would protect them, and he would not let them down.

  A shadow appeared in the dimly lit doorway and Colin’s voice sounded in the darkness. “Is she all right?”

  “Aye, she had a night terror,” he answered in a hushed tone.

  Colin remained a moment longer and if he spoke, Kieran could not hear what was said before the door clicked closed.

  He was fortunate Colin had come to the door and not one of the other occupants of the inn. Doubtless the situation would not appear innocent with Mariel screaming and him trying to restrain her while wearing only his plaid.

  The wetness of her tears upon his skin had begun to dry, and her sobs slowly quieted. The ropes of the bed groaned beneath them as Kieran settled back and pulled her against him so her head rested over his heart. Her hair was unbound and spilled across his naked flesh like a gossamer cloak.

  He put an arm around her slender waist, and she relaxed against his body with a sigh. Her hair was cool silk beneath his hands. Before he realized what he was doing, the dark strands were threaded between his fingers as he stroked the length of her shimmering tresses.

  He didn’t know how long he lay there with the warmth of her curled against him, but eventually his body began to ache from lack of movement. Sleep would not be possible. Mariel’s deep, even breathing indicated she was not suffering from the same insomnia as he. Perhaps he could ease from beneath her without her waking.

  He eased his hips to
ward the edge of the small bed, hoping she wouldn’t notice.

  Her hands clutched his arms. “Please,” she whimpered. “Stay.”

  Her voice was small and laced with unmistakable desperation.

  “Aye, I’ll stay.” He shifted back in an attempt to relieve the stiffness of his joints. This time she did not protest his movements.

  The room fell silent once more and filled with her slow, steady breathing. Despite the days they had spent on the road, her hair was clean, and her skin still held that enticing rose scent.

  She sighed in her sleep. A sound so feminine and intimate, his body jerked awake. The thin fabric of her nightgown hid her from him, and it was all he could do to keep from tracing her curves through the gauzy fabric. Her hand rested against his naked chest, rising and falling with each breath he took, tormenting him with the most innocent of touches.

  He wanted to roll her beneath him and caress her until she woke with a need as intense as his own. Instead, he endured the whisper of her breath across his flesh and tried to turn his mind from the burn of desire.

  There was so much more to Mariel than what she let him see. So much more than what lay beneath the beautiful, polished surface.

  His arm curled around her waist, and he breathed deep her intoxicating scent. For this one night, her hair was unbound, her body free of its confines, and her soul vulnerable.

  She was a woman in need of a protection he could afford to give this one night, but no longer than a few more minutes for surely he could not stay.

  Chapter Nine

  Sunlight streamed through the slatted wood shutters and cast a lazy, filtered light into Mariel’s small room. Something warm wrapped around her. Arms. There were arms around her torso and a leg thrown over hers. The spicy scent surrounding her indicated who lay behind her. Perhaps she should have questioned how he’d ended up in her bed, but she found all she wanted to do was melt against his heat and lose herself in his embrace.

  “Kieran,” she sighed softly.

  The prickle of his whiskers rasped the sensitive curve of her neck.

  He nuzzled his lips against her ear and sent a delicious wave of chills across her skin.

  “I thought ye wanted to sleep in,” Kieran mumbled.

  Mariel breathed in his scent and let herself fall under the security of his embrace.

  Her fingers brushed his arm and found them bare. Her eyes flew open. Had they? Surely they had not or she would have remembered…

  Unexpected and harsh reality crashed through the blissful haze of safety. A storm of questions rolled unanswered through her head. How had he gotten into her bed? When did he get there?

  Mariel rolled over to face him and felt her mouth fall open at the sight of his bare torso. A light dusting of dark hair sprinkled his powerful chest and accentuated the etched lines of his physique. Banded muscles tightened across his stomach and disappeared into the tangle of sheets around his hips and legs.

  Was he naked?

  He opened an eye slightly and gave her a lazy, lopsided smile that woke the low pulse of desire within her.

  “Ye made it to morning, I see.” His tone was light, intimate.

  She offered a blithe smile, not quite sure what to say as she scrambled to remember what had occurred the previous night. When had he returned to her room?

  Mired in frustration, she came up with nothing more than the memory of falling asleep alone and irritated. She couldn’t remember Kieran coming to her bed, but dared not admit it out loud.

  Her eyes skimmed over his finely sculpted torso in quiet admiration. Looking at him now, she had no idea how forgetting such intimacy would be possible.

  If Kieran noticed her assessment, he did not show it nor did he appear discomfited by it. His dark eyes were both now open and met hers with a quiet comfort.

  “Ye dinna remember last night.” It was a statement more than a question.

  Heat warmed her cheeks and she stammered a reply. “I…I slept deeply and must still be tired. It’s not because you weren’t memorable or…”

  His deep, warm chuckle stopped her and an amused smile lit his face. “Dinna worry, ye dinna forget anything like that.”

  The smile disappeared from around his eyes, and his expression grew serious. He cupped her cheek in a tender caress. “Ye had a nightmare, Mariel. Ye woke up the entire inn, probably all of Edinburgh for that matter, with yer screams. I came in here to quiet ye, and ye tried to fight me off.” He arched his eyebrow. “Ye’re a strong wee thing. I’ve half a mind to let ye toss a few cabers at the next games.”

  The warmth drained from Mariel’s face with the realization of what he referred to. God, not that.

  She had not had that nightmare in over a year. Her mind flashed back to the horror that haunted her dreams. Chills crept across her flesh.

  Kieran’s arms tightened around her and pulled her from the memory before it could entangle her conscience. He traced the curve of her neck with his lips until the heat of his breath left chills of pleasure in place of those caused by dread. He brushed her ear with his lips, his voice velvety. “In an effort to defend myself, had we slept together the way ye thought we had, ye wouldna forget.”

  A shiver wound down her spine, and her eyes raked down his naked torso. The intimacy of their closeness did not escape her. In fact, she was painfully aware of every movement, every subtle shift that brushed their bodies against one another, and every inch of him not covered by the sheets, including his bare feet thrust out from the short covers.

  He had not been lying when he’d spoken to Gaira about the extra blanket. Jealousy had gotten the better of Mariel for naught.

  All ten toes suddenly wriggled under her observation, and a carefree bubble of laughter burst from her.

  “Your feet must be freezing,” she said.

  “Aye,” he said. “Ye should feel them.”

  His feet disappeared under the covers and icy toes pressed against her calves through the thin nightgown, a shocking contrast to the warmth of their shared bed. She squealed and kicked at his feet to keep them away from her.

  Kieran dodged her futile attack and thrust his frigid feet against her legs once more. She laughed and tried to roll out of his grasp. Too late did she remember how narrow the bed was and found herself slipping toward the floor. Before her rump could smack the hard floor, Kieran’s warm hands caught her by the waist and drew her back toward him.

  He tucked her against his strength and the chilled imprint of his feet upon her flesh melted away in a sizzle of awareness.

  “Are ye all right, lass?” he asked.

  “I’m perfectly fine now, thanks to my hero.” She studied the warmth of his dark gaze on her. His eyes crinkled at the corners from too many hours in the sun, and the relaxed smile on his lips was one she had never seen before. A smile she had put there, she realized with pride.

  For all his strength and black stares of intimidation, he was kind and comforting. “You aren’t like any man I’ve ever met, Kieran,” she said.

  “Ye say that like it’s a bad thing.” The words rumbled beneath her ear.

  She found herself smiling. “I haven’t figured that out yet.”

  Her fingertips skimmed the taut lines of Kieran’s stomach and heat blossomed in her belly. Her breath quickened with the force of how badly she wanted this. Not just the feel of his skin against hers, but also the closeness.

  She wanted to get to know Kieran MacDonald. It was a desire that had nothing to do with Aaron or his schemes.

  Her hand flattened against Kieran’s firm chest. His heartbeat raced beneath her fingertips and his flesh was soft and warm against her hand, the muscle solid. The light sprinkling of hair prickled her palm.

  “Most men who found themselves in bed with me would try to take advantage of the situation. You, however, seem as comfortable as if we were both dressed in our court wear.” She traced an invisible line across the hard lines of his chest.

  Kieran rose on one elbow, and the blanket shift
ed off his hip, revealing the top of his kilt. Pity.

  His hand lingered on her shoulder and gently pushed her back. He traced his finger along the neckline of her gown and a playful smile tugged at his lips. His fingertip grazed the sensitive skin beneath. A tremor of excitement trickled down her back.

  “Nay, lass, this is far too high for court wear—especially yer court wear.”

  His gaze dipped lower as if noting for the first time she wore only her night rail. With a subtle arch of her back, she pushed her breasts forward so they stood out proudly. The delicate rasp of the linen left the pink of her nipples strained against the sheer fabric.

  The smile melted from his lips.

  A low groan sounded deep in his chest, and his eyes met hers, black with desire. Her body responded to the blatant, primitive yearning that sparked between them and left her pulse fluttering.

  Her stare dropped to his lips, so sensual and soft against the sharp, hard lines of his face. The memory of his mouth moving over hers, the smoothness of his lips, and the stroke of his tongue—all of it shot forefront to her mind.

  How would it feel to have his tongue trail down her neck to her breasts? Her nipples tightened to the point of aching, and she exhaled a long, shaky breath.

  “I should go,” he said tersely. Contrary to his words, he did not shift off the bed.

  “Stay.” Her voice was husky and need pounded a demanding staccato through her body.

  She shouldn’t want this as badly as she did. Certainly she did not deserve it. He sat motionless on the sheets. Yet there was hope.

  He hadn’t left yet.

  He leaned forward and brushed a lock of hair away from her face. The ropes of the bed creaked beneath his weight. Mariel closed her eyes against the wash of pleasure at his caress and allowed herself to be lifted into a sitting position against him. The breath she had been holding eased out in a sigh of longing. She let her eyes flutter open and met his scorching gaze. His heartbeat was strong against her breast, fast and frenzied. Heady anticipation seized her and left her breathless.