Deception of a Highlander Page 6

  “Do ye know what my staying means?” he asked raggedly. His breath was warm and tantalizing where it whispered against her lips.

  Not trusting herself to speak, Mariel gave a slow nod. Still, he studied her for a moment more as if giving her time to change her mind. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

  He lowered his head and swept his lips against hers. She craned her neck toward him, hungry for the searing kiss she now knew him capable of. But he did not oblige.

  Her fingers slid desperately along the muscular plane of his back. He was raw power beneath her hands, and yet when his lips brushed hers, they were gentle. Too gentle.

  Tepid.

  He was holding back. She could feel it in the tightness of his body and hear it in his labored breath. Her invitation to stay had not been enough.

  He would not take what she did not offer.

  Blood pounded through her veins, demanding action. She didn’t wait for another restrained kiss. Rising to her knees, she cradled his face in her hands and caught his lower lip in her mouth. With a greedy moan, she dragged the tip of her tongue across his captured lip and arched her body against him. He grabbed her shoulders, and a spike of anxiety shot through her. Would he push her away?

  His hands slid up against her scalp and gripped her head. He jerked his face from her hands and a muscle worked in his jaw. Something sparked in his eyes. Something dark and hungry. A whimper of victory sounded deep in her throat. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

  His thumb tugged at her chin so her mouth fell open, and the silky caress of his tongue thrust against hers.

  He captured control of the kiss with a primal groan that vibrated against her lips. The strength of his arms curled around her waist and he leaned over her, his generous mouth moving restless against hers.

  Mariel allowed herself to be laid back against the cool sheets of their small bed, a soothing contrast to the flaring heat of her flushed body. The decadent cadence between her thighs thundered into a pounding need. Kieran covered her body with his welcome weight so only their clothing lay between them. He rose thick and heavy against her belly, a thrilling testament to his desire for her.

  A desperate moan escaped her lips. She wanted this. She wanted him. Her hips moved of their own volition, arching and rolling and her legs tangled with his. Kieran slanted his mouth over hers, drawing the sounds of her pleasure into him.

  His fingers spanned the fullness of her breast through her night rail and the pad of his thumb grazed the bud of her nipple. A bolt of pleasure shot through her, and his name was little more than a gasp on her lips.

  Kieran’s knee slipped between her legs, nudging them apart. Teasing her with delicious pleasure. He settled his hips in the cradle of her thighs and pressed the length of his arousal against her throbbing center. Her legs wrapped around his taut waist in an attempt to get him closer, to increase the euphoric friction that left the room scorching.

  A groan tore from his chest. His hand on the blanket beside her balled the fabric of the sheet in his fist.

  His tongue curled against hers, stroke after frantic stroke adding to the fire burning within her. His hands skimmed up her legs with fingers inching closer, closer to the source of her need. Mariel’s mouth went dry.

  The heat of his lips trailed down her neck to the top of her night rail. He pulled the silken ribbon from its bow at her throat and pushed aside the thin fabric, baring her breasts for him.

  His hot gaze sizzled across her body and a low growl rumbled from deep in his throat. He thought she was beautiful. He hadn’t said it, but she knew. And it only served to fuel her lust further.

  His mouth closed over her breast, wet heat against soft flesh. His hand moved between her thighs, his fingertips dancing a maddening ring around her sex, teasing but not touching.

  Mariel gasped for air she didn’t know she needed. His tongue flicked against her nipple, circling the tender flesh as she strained and writhed beneath the exquisite torture of his touch. And then his finger brushed the slick bud of her sex.

  Pleasure spun Mariel in a blur of heat and excitement. She cried out in a hoarse voice and ground her hips against his hand, desperate for relief from the building tension tightening within her. Each glorious stroke sent a fresh wave of bliss rippling through her.

  She could take no more.

  “I want you,” she whispered fervently against his ear. Her fingers glided over the rigid plane of his stomach to where his arousal strained against his plaid. He was hard beneath, pulsing with a need that matched her own frantic heartbeat.

  His breath hissed between his teeth and his fingers ceased their teasing pleasure. “I canna do this.”

  Mariel jerked back and stared up at him. Was he serious?

  His jaw was set, his gaze hard. He looked serious.

  She fought hard to think of something, anything to say to keep him from leaving. “I don’t—”

  “I should go.” His tone was strained and offered no room for protest. The mattress shifted as he freed the bed of his weight and left her staring up at him.

  His face was impassive, but his dark eyes burned with desire when they raked over her once more. He hesitated. His hand curled into a fist at his side. And then he turned toward the door.

  “Kieran?” Mariel gasped in shock. Had she heard him correctly?

  Without apology or explanation, he left the room and answered her startled question with the hard click of the door closing behind him.

  Chapter Ten

  Kieran stalked back to his room and cursed under his breath. His resolve had crumbled beneath the lure of Mariel’s desire. Somehow he had found the strength to stop before it was too late. Before he led her down a path where she would eventually be hurt.

  Alec stood outside one of the rooms wearing the same clothes as the previous evening. With a sly grin, he scanned Kieran’s naked chest and looked pointedly down the hall to Mariel’s room. “Did ye finally have her?”

  “Mind yer own damn business,” Kieran growled and burst through the door to his own room. He slammed it shut behind him with a satisfactory bang.

  The cold silence of the empty chamber greeted him with bitter solitude. He stood for a moment and drew in a deep breath in an effort to steady himself.

  The desire to possess Mariel had been overwhelming. Even still, his loins ached with need of her. She had certainly been willing and ready. God, she had been so ready—slick with need, swollen and pink beneath the thatch of downy hair. Her scent lingered on his fingertips and the ghost of her yearning all but drove him mad with want.

  How easy it would have been to cradle her buttocks in his hands and thrust himself inside of her. He groaned aloud at the thought.

  Agitated, he began to pace. He should have gone back to his own room last night when she slept. Why hadn’t he taken advantage of the opportunity when he could? Damn it, he knew exactly the reason, and it had everything to do with her soft curves pressed tight against him, and the delicate scent of her under his nose. The way she made him feel like an invincible warrior who could keep all her fears away and soothe the pain of her past. He hadn’t stayed because she’d asked him. He’d stayed because she needed him, because he wanted her to need to him.

  The thought of what the morning would bring had briefly crossed his mind. Not that he hadn’t had lusty thoughts the entire night he lay beside her, but he hadn’t expected to act on any of them.

  She had been so damn tempting with her dark hair tumbling down her shoulders and her lips and cheeks rosy with the warmth of sleep. The sheer fabric of her nightgown hugged the shape of her body and enticed him toward something he should not touch.

  His attempt to leave the sensual warmth of her bed was stopped with one small word.

  Stay.

  The same word she had whimpered the night before when she begged him to remain. The same word, yet the meaning could not have been more different. He had wanted her badly. Hell, he still did.

  But he would not allow
himself to use her the way others had.

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. What happened between them could not happen again. The next time he might not have the strength to stop. Letting Mariel go was better for her and better for him.

  A change of clothes later, he opened the door to head downstairs when a strange thought occurred to him. Where in God’s name was Jane last night?

  • • •

  No matter how hard Mariel scrubbed with icy water, she could not clear the burn of humiliation from her cheeks. Though the tears had long since been blinked away, a stubborn lump sat in the back of her throat.

  She tightened the lacings of her most becoming gown. The small room was absent a mirror, but she did not need one to know how well the pale lavender velvet complimented her complexion and eyes. The cut was flattering and drew attention to all the right areas while still maintaining a level of modesty. With such a gown, how could she feel anything less than beautiful?

  Her gaze shifted to the crumpled night rail, and her confidence sagged.

  The door to the room opened and Jane sauntered in. Her hair was neatly combed, and she wore a different dress than the one she’d worn the previous days.

  “Where were you last night?” Mariel asked with barely suppressed irritation.

  “Someplace where I wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor like a servant,” Jane sneered.

  Where didn’t matter. Mariel knew exactly what her accomplice had been doing. Doubtless the woman had delivered another grim report to Aaron.

  “Kieran slept here last night,” Mariel said. If Aaron thought she was failing as badly as Jane portrayed, Jack may not survive the three months.

  “Did he?” Surprise flickered in Jane’s amber eyes before the cool mask slid back in place. She marched over to the bed and pulled back the blankets. “Looks like that’s all he did.” She let the covers fall from her hand and glared at Mariel. “Do you need instruction on how to handle a man?”

  Mariel straightened her back against the insult. “I’m perfectly aware of how to handle a man.”

  Jane arched her eyebrow. “Then why hasn’t he fucked you yet?”

  “Kieran isn’t like other men.” Mariel pursed her lips to keep from saying more, but the smirk on Jane’s face told her she had already said too much.

  “Shite,” Jane exclaimed. She slapped her hands on her hips and shook her head with obvious contempt. “You actually care about him. And here they all think you’re so damn smart, when really you’re more stupid than a common street whore.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Mariel began to remove the plait from her hair in an effort to maintain control over the emotion threatening to shatter her calm exterior. “I know better than that.”

  “No.” Jane crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re foolishly risking everything. I can see it in your eyes when you talk to him.” She leaned her torso toward Mariel. “Do you really think they intend to let him live?”

  Mariel narrowed her eyes and said nothing to the doubt that flashed sharp in her chest.

  Jane sneered, marring any beauty her face held. “He’s going to die after this is over whether by your blade or by that of another. I don’t know why Aaron coddles you so damn much to let you think you won’t have to actually kill him yourself when all this is over.”

  Mariel gave an impatient sigh, the perfect cover for a much needed deep draw of breath to provide air to her burning lungs. “Cease this ridiculous chatter at once and pack up this room. We leave within the hour.”

  Jane kicked Mariel’s discarded nightdress and sent it fluttering across the floorboards. “I won’t be your damn maid anymore. Once Aaron hears about this, he’ll see to it that you are removed back to London.” She smirked. “If you’re lucky.”

  The blood froze in Mariel’s veins. If Jane convinced Aaron Mariel held affections for her target, he would have her dealt with, and she knew all too well what that meant. Fear yanked at her heart. Jack would have no one to save him.

  “That’s not necessary,” Mariel said with a calm she did not feel. “You know as well as I do what you say is a lie. You would condemn me for no other reason than spite.” Her fingers curled against the palm of her hand to still their trembling. “You don’t speak Gaelic and you know nothing about the culture. How would you assume you could take my place?”

  “You don’t speak to the rest of us, like you’re too damn good for our lot. But if you did, you’d realize you’re not the only one learning Gaelic.” Jane smirked. “Aaron is smart enough to know there’s enough hatred between the English and the Scots to make it worthwhile to train others.”

  Mariel’s heart leapt. If others were learning Gaelic as she had, perhaps Aaron truly did intend to let her and Jack go free.

  Jane backed toward the door, threatening that delicate hope of freedom.

  “Where are you going?” Mariel asked sharply.

  A cold smile curled over Jane’s lips. “Oh, I think you know.”

  Shirking all pretense of composure, Mariel lunged forward and caught Jane’s thin wrist.

  The woman’s eyes shone with surprise. Her arm cocked back, and her fist flew toward Mariel’s face. Mariel pushed her forearm between them so the blow bounced harmlessly off the meat of her arm.

  “Let go of me,” Jane hissed. Her foot flew out in a desperate kick.

  Mariel fell back on an instinct caused by countless hours of brutal practice. She shifted her leg toward the blow and flexed her thigh so the hearty kick could do nothing more than leave a slight bruise. Certainly it did not rock her balance as she assumed Jane meant for it to.

  Undeterred, the woman reached forward with a clawed hand and grabbed a fistful of Mariel’s hair, fingernails gauging painfully into Mariel’s scalp. She caught Jane’s hand with both of her own and bent forward at the waist. The woman’s wrist snapped sharply upward, but Mariel didn’t stop. She jerked herself backward with Jane’s hand still pressed against the top of her head, dragging the woman to the ground face first.

  Her movements were controlled and practiced. Their struggle created no sound.

  “Enough of this,” Mariel said in a harsh whisper. “You and I both know we’re both better off with me doing the task I’ve been sent to do.”

  Jane glared up at her.

  Mariel pushed a hand through her hair to finger comb the tangled mass at the top of her head. “I have more at stake in this than I could possibly explain.”

  In a show of good faith, Mariel knelt down to help Jane to her feet. The woman’s amber gaze softened, but only for a brief moment.

  She leapt at Mariel, using both their weight to throw them to the ground. “I can’t let you ruin this for me,” Jane snarled.

  There was most likely more she intended to say, but Mariel never gave her the chance. She pushed with her knee, edging Jane from her body and swung a leg over the woman’s head, trapping her.

  One sharp drop of Mariel’s foot to the floor and Jane was on her back, trapped once more. This time in a position that would not fatigue Mariel.

  The woman breathed heavily and writhed in protest.

  Mariel flexed the muscles of her legs, ensuring Jane would not move. “I’m not—”

  A knock sounded at the door.

  The calm surrounding Mariel during the fight shattered and sent her heart into an erratic beat. She met Jane’s gaze and knew they both understood: no matter who took charge of the mission, discretion was still necessary.

  Mariel eased her legs from Jane’s body and offered a hand to assist the other woman in standing.

  Jane ignored the offer and pushed herself up to her feet. “Just a moment,” she said in a pleasant tone.

  Her hands swept over her dress, setting her gown back into place before she opened the door.

  Relief all but choked Mariel as Colin grinned down at them. “Kieran said we need to leave within the hour.” He glanced between them and lifted an eyebrow. “Is something wrong?”

  Before Jane
could answer, Mariel spoke up, determined to not let the opportunity slip from her grasp. “Colin, I have a favor to ask of you.” The words rushed out of her mouth before she even realized what she was saying. “Jane got lost last night and wasn’t able to find her way back to the inn until morning. I’m afraid she has a terrible sense of direction, poor dear. Please show her where to put my bags and stay by her side until we leave. It would be a pity for her to get lost again and stall our departure.” The blaze of Jane’s anger burned against Mariel’s face.

  “Anything to stay in the company of a bonny lass,” Colin said with a wink at Jane. “Let’s head to the stables first. I’ll help ye with the bags.”

  “Thank you so much.” Mariel beamed a grateful smile up at Colin and purposefully avoided meeting Jane’s eye.

  The faux maid turned on her heel and stalked down the hall with Colin at her side.

  Only when they disappeared from view did Mariel allow herself to collapse against the sturdy wall of the inn and gasp for breath. Her heart still slammed against her chest and her palms were slick with sweat. That had been close. Too close.

  Her quick thinking and Colin’s unexpected assistance had bought her time, but how much?

  • • •

  The onset of an overcast dawn lit the sky with a wet, smoky gray that settled into Kieran’s bones. He glanced to where Mariel rode several paces beside him. A gust of wind blasted them with air so cold it cut through the heavy fabric of his plaid. She did not so much as wince. Her lower lip remained tucked into her mouth, and her gaze fixed unseeing into the snow dusted ferns layering the forest floor. She had been like that the last four days, since they had left the Sheep’s Heid Inn. Ever since he had walked out on her.

  He’d meant to apologize but found reasons not to—from the inability to speak privately to the justification that it was for the best for her to dislike him. The thought of being alone with her shot through him in a thrilling mix of excitement and bittersweet trepidation.

  Mariel’s eyes slid to where Jane rode ahead with Colin and her knuckles whitened where she gripped the reins.