Possession of a Highlander Page 9

  No, she would not allow herself to be placated with longing, not when her spirit was locked beneath the weight of the vows she had just spoken.

  • • •

  Revelers danced in their finest clothes, and the table before Colin practically bowed beneath the bounty of choice meats and decadent pies. Lively music echoed up to the high ceiling of the great hall and rivaled the spirited conversation of the wedding guests. All of this, and not a single thing brought even the slightest smile to his somber bride.

  Petulant though she might be, she was certainly the bonniest thing he’d ever laid eyes on. The wedding took only two short days to organize, and yet she looked every part the well-prepared bride. Save for the way she sat uncomfortably upright with her hands clawed tightly around the arms of her chair.

  Her rich brown hair tumbled unbound down her stiff shoulders and shone in the rich afternoon light. She wore a simple gown of pink satin that accented the natural flush of her cheeks and lips.

  Colin had left her alone until this day in the hopes the lass would come to terms with the idea of their union. Considering her apparent displeasure, perhaps that had not been a wise decision.

  “Ye look beautiful.” He placed a hand over her hard-knuckled grip on her chair.

  “Thank you.” Her response was automatic and distracted.

  Never one to be dissuaded, Colin carefully pulled her hand from the chair, one finger at a time, and turned it palm up. “I shouldna have left ye alone these last few days. I thought ye would need some time.”

  Her wary gaze slid toward him. “I had much to prepare. I didn’t need the distraction.” She pulled at her hand, but he held tight.

  The pad of his middle finger circled her moist palm and trailed down the heel of her hand. He dragged three fingers across her inner wrist, slowly, sensually.

  “Would I have been a distraction for ye?” He glanced up to watch her reaction.

  Brianna swallowed hard, and her gaze followed his finger’s path up the inside of her arm to the crook of her elbow. The woman may not have wished to wed him, but her body responded to his in a way that pleased him immensely.

  She pulled her arm away and looked up at him. “I don’t like how you do that.”

  “Do what?” He did not give chase to the hand she tucked firmly in her lap, though he wanted to.

  “Touch me but once and I feel my thoughts slide away from me.” Her stare dropped to his mouth and his blood heated. “It’s very frustrating.”

  His fingers skimmed the delicate line of her jaw. “Ye act as if ye are the only one affected.”

  A line appeared between her brows, and her face softened.

  He eased forward in his chair, intimately close. She swallowed, but she did not lean away. He closed the scant distance between them and pressed his lips to the plush softness of hers. Conscious of those watching, he halted the kiss before it could truly start. Unleashing his passion before their guests would do nothing but bring her shame.

  “If only ye knew how badly I want ye.” He drew a deep breath and willed his blood to cool. “Tonight,” he said into her ear.

  The pink tip of her tongue parted her full lips and left them moist, glistening.

  Colin shifted in the hard seat.

  So much for his blood cooling.

  “Lady Lindsay, congratulations on your marriage.” A nasal voice shattered the fragile moment between them.

  “Robert?” Brianna’s head jerked toward her cousin.

  “I must say, I never thought to see one as delicate as you married to something so uncivilized.” The whoreson glanced around with a pretentious smile, as if looking for supporters to his statement. He found naught but curious stares. “Considering the haste of the wedding, I assume we will see your belly swell with child soon?”

  Colin stood abruptly and stepped around the table. “I dinna care for the way ye are speaking to my wife.”

  Robert’s beady eyes darted between Colin and Brianna. His cheeks mottled purple. “What does your father say of this union, Brianna? I see he is not present. That comes as little surprise.” He sneered down at her in a way that made Colin want to put his fist through the bastard’s face. Again.

  “I suggest ye leave her alone. And I suggest ye dinna test my sincerity.”

  Frustration twisted in Colin’s gut. There had been no asking Brianna’s father for permission, not that Colin hadn’t tried. Magda had offered to help, and came downstairs frantic with worry at finding Laird Lindsay’s bed empty. Colin understood what the aging woman did not.

  There was much to discuss with his new wife. After the wedding night.

  Before Robert could reply with another offensive comment, Magda approached. She wore a wreath of flowers in her hair and pride gleamed in her bright blue eyes.

  “It is time, my lady.” She gently touched Brianna’s hand and looked at Colin. “I must spirit your bride away, but promise you will be reunited soon.”

  He inclined his head in understanding and met Brianna’s worried gaze before she was led away. Long shadows stretched along the walls of the castle. The sun was setting. Darkness would come soon and she would be in his arms. A stirring of desire coiled deep within him.

  He turned his attention back to Robert. Alec shouldered past the pretentious nobleman and stood directly beside Colin.

  “Watch where you walk, barbarian.” Robert brushed at the sleeve of his jacket.

  Alec’s face remained cold and impassive. “Give me a reason to kill ye.”

  Robert’s eyes went round in his long face. “You savages are as bloodthirsty as they say.”

  Alec bared his teeth and snarled. “Care for a demonstration, Lowlander?”

  Robert turned on his heel and pressed through the throngs of revelers in his haste to escape.

  “Ah, ye have a way about ye, Alec.” Colin grinned at his old friend and accepted the congratulatory smack on his back.

  “Colin MacKinnon wed.” Alec shook his head in mock disbelief. “I dinna ever think to see the day.”

  Colin chuckled. He turned his gaze toward the open doorway to his left. Several halls and a short climb up the spiral staircase, and he would arrive at the room he would share with Brianna.

  “Watch out lest ye be the next to wed, old friend,” he said to Alec.

  Alec smirked. “That isna likely. I dinna think I’d find a wife to put up with me.”

  Before Colin could reply, Magda’s withered hand settled on his forearm. A smile creased her eyes. “She waits for you, laird.”

  His blood heated with anticipation. He nodded his gratitude to Magda and turned toward the doorway.

  Finally, the time had come to make Brianna his wife.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Brianna sat on the coverlet of her large bed, her legs crossed tightly at the ankle in front of her. No longer did she occupy the center of the mattress as she had done her whole life. She’d been nudged to one side by obligation. The bed was to be shared. With her husband.

  Her throat worked in a swallow that failed to wet her dry mouth and failed to alleviate her fear.

  Precious wax candles dripped into metal trays throughout the room. Their flames were too bright for Brianna’s liking. They exposed too much.

  The nightrail she wore was a whisper of fabric over her naked body, a fine gown meant to entice love and make the wearer feel beautiful.

  She did not feel beautiful.

  The white silk had been woven so thin, it showed every intimate line of her body. She was bared. Vulnerable.

  Heavy footsteps fell upon the private staircase leading to the room, and she knew he approached. Colin. Her husband. The breath squeezed from her chest and her pulse tripped an erratic rhythm. Once this one act was done, there could be no annulment. She would be irrevocably married. Forever.

  The shuffle of feet sounded outside her door, followed by the familiar squeak of the latch. Her chest rose and fell in quick succession as panic took control.

  She squeezed h
er eyes shut as if not seeing could make the situation disappear. The door creaked open and then shut. For all she wished it to stop, she was being plunged into a life she did not want. Footsteps approached the bed. Her heart pounded against her ribcage.

  Colin was a good man, and they did share passion. But he was still a man, and men took what they wanted without thought or consideration.

  “Brianna.” Colin’s voice was mere inches from her face, his voice gentle.

  She opened her eyes and found him gazing down at her, his features soft and his concern genuine.

  “I brought ye some wine if ye like.” His thumb brushed her cheeks. “Ye dinna need to cry, lass. I willna hurt ye.”

  Was she crying? Humiliation burned through her veins. The cool silver of a goblet pressed to the heat of her palm, and she took the proffered wine with unspoken gratitude.

  She craned her head over the rim and sniffed the contents with as much discretion as was possible. The heady aroma of wine met her examination.

  Colin’s chuckle was warm and free of mockery. “I wouldna poison ye, lass. I thought ye might like it to calm yer nerves.”

  Suddenly sheepish for her hesitation, Brianna lifted the goblet and took a delicate sip. The rich wine burned pleasantly against her throat and settled in her stomach with a comforting warmth. No bitter aftertaste.

  He watched her carefully. “Magda dinna frighten ye, did she?”

  “Magda?”

  His eyes searched hers. “Did she speak, ye know, about what to expect?”

  Brianna gazed down at a loose thread of her nightrail. “No, I read a pamphlet on it.”

  “A pamphlet?” The smile was evident in his voice.

  She nodded, unable to meet his eyes. She stared down at her gown. The fabric was so thin, the pink of her naked skin showed beneath. She pressed her body into the bed, as if shrinking back from the transparent garment could make it less revealing. As if the act could quell her desire to crawl out of her own flesh and slink into the shadows.

  Colin eased onto the edge of the mattress beside Brianna. His stare was serious, focused. Something deep within her knew what that look meant. It was time.

  Her heart stuttered.

  She did not want this. Not the consummation, not the marriage, not the end of her freedom.

  “Colin, I want to talk first.” Her voice was loud in the silence of the room.

  “Are we no talking now?” His eyes were almost black in the dimly lit room. She didn’t need light to know exactly how green they were.

  “We are. But I—I don’t know that I can do this.” She drew a deep breath and inadvertently filled her nostrils with the rich aroma of soap and masculinity. Her body hummed in response to his closeness.

  “Ye can, I assure ye.” An amused smile touched his sensual mouth.

  He traced a taunting line from her elbow up to her shoulder. She watched the ascent of his finger before turning her eyes to him once more.

  “I want to bring ye a pleasure I let ye but sample the other day.” He leaned closer, and the ropes beneath the mattress creaked. “Ye are my wife now. I want to taste the sweetness of yer lips and run my fingers through the silk of yer hair like I’ve imagined since the day I met ye.”

  His voice was low, hypnotic. “I want to touch all of ye and see if it’s possible that the rest of ye is as velvety soft as yer cheek. I want to hear ye make those sounds when I kiss ye that bring me to my knees with longing.” He nudged her mouth with his, and the spicy lure of his breath set her heart pounding for a whole different reason. “I want to love ye, Brianna.”

  And then he kissed her, his lips insistent, his tongue coaxing as he swept the protest from her lips. The fine goblet slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor below.

  Colin sat back on his heels and pulled the shirt over his head, baring his powerful torso.

  A blaring warning sounded in her brain even as her traitorous eyes feasted on the masculine flesh laid before her. “What are you doing?” The question squeaked from her tight throat.

  “Taking my wife to bed,” he said simply. He braced his arms on either side of her and leaned forward.

  “Please.” she whimpered and scooted against the cushioned wall of pillows behind her. “I do not want this. We should wait.”

  He pressed his lips to her neck and inhaled deeply. “Why do ye wish to wait?” Her nipples strained against her flimsy dress in response to his caress.

  His tongue flicked against her hot skin between kisses, one after another down her neck, down her chest, down to where her breasts swelled against the loose neckline of her nightrail. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the surge of pleasure. “Please do not force me.”

  His breath teased the responsive flesh along the tops of her breasts. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap lest she give in to the urge to stroke his chiseled flesh.

  “I would never force ye.” He nuzzled the fabric of her gown aside, and his mouth touched the skin above her nipple.

  Her body tingled with awareness, and a steady, pulsing heat blossomed to life.

  She drew a shaky breath. “You say you will not force me, yet you do not cease your actions.”

  He buried his face in her hair, his lips skimming her ear. “Ye want this.”

  She clamped her teeth together and tried to ignore the way his scent made her blood sizzle, the way his smooth chin against her skin made her wonder things a lady should not think.

  “How can you say I want this when clearly I do not?” Her voice was a strained whisper.

  His teeth scraped against her earlobe, his breath hot against the sensitive spot there. “Mmm…I think ye clearly do.”

  He pressed a kiss to the base of her throat. “Yer skin is warm beneath my lips, yer heartbeat frenzied.” His fingers trailed over her low neckline, and the palm of his hand grazed her hardened nipple.

  Brianna bit her lip to keep the sound of pleasure locked within her.

  “Yer body betrays yer words.” His fingers slid down the length of her arm to where her hands gripped one another in her lap. “I can feel yer restraint.”

  He caressed her thinly-clad thigh, the roughness of his calluses snagging the delicate fabric. His thumb brushed dangerously near the juncture of her legs.

  She squeezed her thighs together, trying to clear her body of its wanton desire to part beneath his touch.

  The heat of his mouth moved beside her ear again, his voice an intoxicating mix of velvet seduction and desire. “Ye havena stopped thinking about my threat.”

  Chills of delicious excitement rose on her arms, and the warm thrum between her thighs roared to a steady pound.

  I want to slide my tongue where my fingers have been.

  Crude words, sinful words that went against everything she had been taught as a girl.

  And she had not been able to stop thinking about them. Surely he had not been serious.

  “I don’t know what threat you’re talking about,” she countered. Even she could hear the lie behind her breathy words.

  Colin grasped the simple tie holding her nightrail closed. “I think ye remember.”

  The bow slid soundlessly from its knot, and the thin silk slipped from her shoulders. She caught the flimsy neckline before her breasts were exposed and clutched it against her. Air that had moments before been too warm now felt cool against her bared skin.

  Colin’s gaze dropped to where her hands were fisted against her chest, to where the only separation between his eyes and her naked breasts was a slip of ineffective clothing.

  He captured her lips with his. Breathing was impossible, thinking was impossible, hearing anything other than the roar of her own heart—all impossible—all the telltale signs of an anticipation she was starting to truly understand.

  • • •

  Colin dug his hands into the soft mattress and nibbled Brianna’s full lower lip. He needed to go slow, to fight the raging lust threatening his control.

  The wisp of a gown she wo
re draped from her smooth shoulders like moonlight. Her hands folded over themselves in front of her breasts as if in prayer. He would see her hands removed and her body unveiled before him.

  His tongue swept deeper into her mouth as he scooted closer to her. She tasted sweet. Innocent.

  His.

  Her mouth opened and she leaned her head back with a sigh of surrender. He covered the tightness of her furled fingers with his hand. They loosened beneath his gentle persuasion and the fabric fluttered to the bed, leaving her torso naked for his exploration. He eased back and let his gaze glide across her breasts in all their round, creamy white perfection.

  His heartbeat thrummed without restraint, absent the control he typically possessed. He wanted to glide his palms over her, revel in the taste of her desire, feel every glorious inch of her body with his mouth, his hands, his everything.

  He pulled her toward him with a strangled growl and pressed his lips to hers. His tongue discovered the depths of her yielding mouth, and his hands roamed over the warm, full weight of her breasts.

  She was firm beneath his touch, her skin a silk so fine he worried his callused fingers might snag it as he had her nightrail.

  Brianna gasped against his lips and arched her back so her breasts pressed into his palms. And then finally, finally she touched him. Fingers extended and trembling, her hands hovered over his chest.

  “Touch me, wife,” he said in a gravelly voice.

  Her heart danced beneath her soft breast, a frantic beat that matched his own. She gave a desperate moan, and he felt the thread of her control snap. Her hands turned hungry, her palms sliding against his chest, her nails gently scraping his nipples.

  Jesu, her touch was a fire that burned straight into his loins.

  He trailed kisses from her lips down the graceful length of her neck. His fingertips skimmed the underside of her breast, and everything slipped away except the woman in his arms. He wanted to taste her, to claim her as no other man had. As no other man ever would.