At The Highlander's Mercy. Terri Brisbin
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expect that he would force himself on her? He knew their parting had been a bad one—he’d shamed her before her family and left her to face their wrath—but never had he forced her. Seduced, cajoled, even begged, but never against her will or without her permission. Had Symon now convinced her that she would pay that price so thoroughly that she accepted it as unavoidable? Shaking his head, overwhelmed by the day’s events and confrontations, Rob walked to the last candle at the bedside table and nodded to her.
‘Lie down.’
Lilidh’s eyes glazed over a bit now as the concoction began its work. Soon, she would once again be in sleep’s grasp and he would have time to consider his actions and plans without her interference. He laughed roughly then, which caused her eyes to widen in fear once more. But she followed his order and slid back down under the covers.
After watching until her eyes drifted shut, he put out the last candle, loosened his belt and allowed his plaid to drop to the floor. His boots and shirt went next before he gathered up the length of plaid, climbed on to the bed and covered himself with it. Stretching out, he crossed his arms behind his head and listened to the pattern of her breaths. Soon, without a word more spoken between them, it grew even and deep, signalling her descent into sleep.
He must assert himself on the morrow and bring a calm, reasoned approach to this. He must divorce himself from acting on his feelings of anger and mistrust and lead the clan. He must let go of his past with Lilidh and handle her with detachment and logic. Closing his eyes, he repeated those decisions over and over to himself as he drifted to sleep.
And he might have succeeded had she not whispered a word that put all his thought of control and rationality aside. One whispered word and jealousy and possessiveness and all the long-ago hurt and knowledge of his unworthiness reared within him.
‘Iain,’ she whispered.
One name. With that one name spoken on a breathless sigh, she ruined all his hopes and once again reminded him of the fruitlessness of his dreams.
Chapter Five
Warmth surrounded her.
Lilidh snuggled deeper beneath the bedcovers, allowing the heat to soothe her sore body. She had found this part of her husband’s attentions quite pleasant, for she hated nothing more than waking in a cold chamber with cold feet. As she moved closer to his warm body, a masculine groan filled the space between them.
A groan that did not belong to Iain.
Dear God in Heaven! How could she have forgotten the events of the last days? Forcing her eyes to open even against the glare of what had to be the morning’s strong light, Lilidh looked directly into Rob’s gaze.
‘You are not Iain!’ she blurted out as she sought to escape Rob’s scandalous embrace. The bedcovers hampered her efforts to scoot back and away from him. The pain that slammed through her head forced her to cease, too, for it threatened to immobilise her with the sheer torture of it. Her stomach rolled from it.
Rob lifted the arm that had most recently crossed her breasts and leaned up on his side. Covered only with his plaid, one that had carelessly been tossed over him from the look of it, he watched her without saying a word. Unlike Iain who simply rolled out of their bed and left their chamber each morn without saying anything, Rob clearly had other plans.
‘No, not Iain,’ he whispered in a voice so deep it made her feel as though heated honey was running over and through her body.
He looked dishevelled from sleep. A lock of his hair kept falling into his eyes. Lilidh reached out to move it away, stopping herself only at the last moment. Damn him! How dare he order her kidnapped and brought here like this. Fool that she always was when it came to him, she wanted to help smooth out the tensions between him and her father. Rob blinked then, turning his gaze from hers as he lifted the plaid and slid to the edge of the bed.
His bed.
She swallowed. Try as she might, she could not look away as his strong, muscular back was exposed to her, all the way to his … Tanned from exposure to the sun, the muscles rippled as he bent down and reached for something on the floor. Her mouth went dry as he tugged a shirt over his head and stood as its length fell around him.
Though it covered his back, it did not reach much lower than his thighs, so his legs, just as well defined as his back, were open to her sight. He’d grown and filled out from the last time she spied on her brother and him as they swam naked in a lake near her home. The passing years, along with the fighting and training, had added bulk and strength to his body. When he faced her, boots and plaid in hand, their gazes met and only the slight lifting of one corner of his mouth gave her any indication of his reaction to her blatant perusal of him.
‘Do I look like Iain?’ he asked, picking up his boots.
He must never have met Iain or he would not ask the question. Two men could never have looked so differently as he and Iain—had. Iain was nearly two-score-and-ten and his hair had long gone grey. He had retained his warrior’s stature and strength even until his death. Then Lilidh remembered that the MacGregors were attempting to keep the news of his death from spreading too far while they settled the dispute over his heir and successor.
As happened whenever she thought of her now-dead husband, confusion and regret entered her heart and mind. He had seemed healthy and stout as long as she’d known him, so his sudden and unexpected death, and their short marriage, left more questions and fears in their passing than they answered.
‘No, not alike at all,’ she finally forced out so that he would not stare so intently at her. Turning away, she reached up to examine her head and the bandage she felt there. Truly, she just could not meet his gaze or think about Iain and her failure to please him at this moment. Not when everything was out of control. ‘Did you …?’
He frowned for a moment and then his gaze darkened. ‘Did I what?’
Lilidh could not speak the words. She did not know if he could have had his way with her while she’d been unconscious or not. That place between her legs felt no worse or different than it ever had, so she had not a clue whether he’d taken her or not. The fog caused by the strong medicine in the healer’s brew hid any memory of the last day and night. He waited for an answer, so she glanced down at the bed and then back at him.
A sudden and terrible thought occurred to her in that moment of waiting—what if her virgin’s blood marked his sheets and exposed her shame and the failure of her marriage? Would he use it to further his clan’s aim to bring dishonour and humiliation to her and her father? Questions would be raised about the validity of her marriage to the MacGregor chief and the treaties attached to it if anyone knew it had never been consummated.
And now there was no way to look without drawing his attention. So, Lilidh waited for him to speak. She swallowed against the fear of exposure and shame and waited for him to answer—too afraid to look and too afraid to look away.
‘Lilidh,’ he said in a quiet voice. ‘Look at me.’ She did not allow the soft tone to mislead her into thinking it was less than a direct command.
She took in a deep breath, tried to keep from trembling and did as he’d ordered. Instead of the mocking she thought to find there, Lilidh watched as desire filled those blue eyes. Desire so strong she felt it pulse through her as though he touched her everywhere at once. Her skin heated, her blood raced and her mouth went dry.
‘When I take you to my bed, in my bed, you will remember it. You will remember every caress, every kiss, when it happens.’
Lilidh felt every word he said and the memories of their time together and this promise of what would come between them shot through her body as if he had touched her. And in those words were every sensation she’d hope to feel and to experience with her husband, but had not. Hearing Rob say them, she mourned for the thousandth time their regrettable ending with its harsh words. Her skin tingled and her blood heated, waiting as desire burned a path through her.
Then, the flare of passion she’d seen there was over and