Her Savage Scot: 1 (Highland Warriors) Page 12

  She wasn’t betraying Onuist by going to Connor. Yet removing the cross somehow felt like the right thing to do. The right thing for Connor.

  Elise quickly wrapped her cloak around Aila, hiding her hair and pulling the fabric across her face. “Make haste.” She kissed her cheek and then wrapped her arms around Drun to prevent him from following her. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Take care, my lady,” Floradh said and Aila thought she heard approval in her servant’s voice.

  But that was probably just her own conscience seeking reassurance. She took a deep breath to calm her fluttering nerves, but it didn’t help. She pulled open the door, lowered her head and walked past her bodyguard, who gave her only a fleeting glance.

  It had worked. She could scarcely believe it had been so simple to deceive him with her cousin’s disguise. Now all she had to do was enter Connor’s chamber and wait for his arrival.

  Connor eyed the high table, where the queen held court with her intimate circle of ladies. Despite her command that afternoon, she had kept him waiting for hours before deigning to see him. And then it had been only to inform him of the Pict king’s expected arrival.

  But during those enforced hours of inactivity, when he’d been required to remain within her antechamber, a thought had formed.

  The truculent eldest Princess Devorgilla clearly kept a tight rein on her ladies. The fact Aila wasn’t permitted to attend the feasts attested to that—although at least the princess allowed her more freedom during the day to do as she wished.

  When the princess left for Dal Riada she would certainty insist upon her ladies accompanying her. Aila could well have little choice in the matter. It wasn’t particularly noble that he gained a sense of satisfaction from that possibility but it was the plain truth.

  If Aila moved to Dal Riada, the biggest obstacle between them forging a future together was removed.

  “Connor MacKenzie.” The breathy whisper at his ear jerked him forcibly back to the present. He turned to see a young noblewoman sliding into Lady Elise’s vacant place.

  “Aye.” He shot Ewan a feral glare, but his friend was otherwise occupied. Perhaps he hadn’t sent this lady to him. It would, after all, be in poor taste after he’d all but admitted he wanted a more permanent arrangement with Aila earlier that day.

  The lady blinked and shifted on the bench, clearly unnerved by his countenance. “I have a message for you.” Her voice was so low he had to bend toward her to catch each word.

  “A message?” he prompted when it appeared she had nothing further to say.

  “Yes.” She drew in a deep breath. “The one you desire above all others is waiting in your bedchamber.” The words rushed out, as though she had memorized them.

  Lust punched through his groin and his damn cock, already at half-mast through thinking of Aila, hardened with shocking alacrity. Fuck. His fist clenched on the table and erotic images thudded across his mind.

  The one he desired above all others was most certainly not waiting in his bedchamber.

  “And who is that?” He strove to make his voice nonchalant. Let her imagine he was used to strange ladies approaching him and delivering such messages.

  Her eyes widened in astonishment. “But I have no idea.” She sounded scandalized which, given the nature of her message, struck him as darkly amusing. “Don’t you know which lady you desire above all others?”

  “I trust this isn’t a jest that Lady Elise is playing.” He liked Elise. She was charming and fun. After that first night, she’d dropped her seductive facade and became an enjoyable feast companion.

  “Why no. Lady Elise was quite adamant.”

  So the message did originate from Elise. Could Aila be waiting in his chambers? Now that the thought had been planted, he couldn’t dislodge it. No matter how unlikely he found it.

  And yet Elise was Aila’s dearest friend. Would she have passed on such a message if it wasn’t true?

  In the end, it didn’t matter. He could no sooner ignore the possibility than he could the reality that tomorrow he faced the Pict king.

  He scarcely noticed when his unlikely messenger heaved a sigh and left. But as soon as she was safely back in her seat, he rose and left the hall.

  With shaking fingers, Aila plucked a torch from its sconce and, after swiftly ensuring she was alone in this part of the palace, she entered Connor’s chamber.

  She knew it was the right chamber. Her mother had complained bitterly about giving the Scot leader her best lodging, although pride had decreed she offer him nothing less.

  A subdued fire glowed in the fireplace, casting a muted glow and dispelling the chill. It wasn’t as richly furnished as her own. But as she approached the recess in the far wall, she saw the quality of the furs and fineness of the linen. Doubtless his mattress was newly stuffed also.

  Although why she was thinking of the state of his bed when shortly she would be lying there, she couldn’t imagine.

  Except she could. It kept her mind occupied. It had been nine years since she had been with a man. For one terrifying moment, her vision blurred and her heart thundered as she recalled that last time. The last time she had seen Onuist.

  Her fingers clenched around the torch and she dragged herself back to the present. Tonight, with Connor, she would finally destroy the lingering remnants of nightmares that haunted her memories. She would conquer her fear of intimacy with a man who was not Onuist.

  She secured the torch into a wall sconce some distance from the bed. Shadows reached out to her, as she stood within the halo of light, swallowing all signs of the fur-swathed bed in the recess. But its image was burned into her mind. As too were the images of what she would soon be doing beneath those furs.

  The heavy timber door opened and flickering light spilled through the widening gap. She gripped her fingers together and tremors of anticipation raced over her arms. For the first time in her life she was initiating an illicit liaison and not even a faint echo of guilt haunted her soul.

  Connor entered, torch aloft, and then froze as though he saw not her but a dreadful apparition.

  Her mouth dried, her fingers became clammy. This was not the reaction she had imagined. Had she made a terrible mistake? She’d thought the second he saw her he would smile, that lust would gleam in his eyes, that he would tug her into his welcoming embrace.

  But instead he remained immobile by the door. Should she say something? Go to him? Or wait until he came to her?

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Aila?” His voice was low. “Is that you?”

  She licked her lips, prayed her voice wouldn’t tremble. “Yes.”

  The door closed behind him. He stepped farther into the chamber and now she could see the way his gaze swept over her. “You’re dressed as Lady Elise.” Was that a hint of amusement?

  Her tension eased and relief flooded through her, leaving her feeling strangely lightheaded. That was why he had hesitated by the door. Because he had thought she was Elise—and he hadn’t wanted Elise. “It was the only way.” To lose her bodyguard. But she didn’t want to go into details.

  He came to stand before her. “I never thought to see you in my bedchamber.”

  “Should I leave?” She tilted her head, and her heart melted at the smile he offered her. She doubted she could leave, voluntarily, if her father the king commanded it.

  He took her hand and led her toward the bed. Once again nerves danced low in her stomach, nerves but something else as well.

  Desire.

  Yes, she desired him. Wanted him. It was the reason she had gone to such lengths to be with him tonight. But she wasn’t quite ready for him. Would he understand? Could she find the words?

  He slid the torch into a sconce by the side of the bed. Instantly the shadows vanished. Was that a good thing? Wouldn’t it be easier, in the dark?

  He turned to her and cradled her face between his calloused hands. For a second she was transported back to her nighttime fantasies. But her dream-lover was
nothing but a figment of her imagination. And Connor was not. His hard fingers holding her so gently was infinitely arousing.

  “If you leave, I would have no choice but to follow.”

  “And drag me back?”

  His thumbs grazed her cheeks. “Would I need to drag you back? Would you not come of your own free will?”

  A strange thought teased her mind. She would go through hell for him. But she couldn’t say that aloud.

  “I came here of my own free will. And, as you can see, it took some planning on my part.”

  As if they had all the time in the world, he slowly slid the cloak from her head and shoulders and carefully draped it at the end of the bed as she removed her boots and stockings. Then he turned back to her and slipped his hands around her waist.

  A light touch. It would take no effort for her to pull away and sever their contact. And yet the heat of his fingers branded her through the fine linen of her gown.

  “Are you certain this is what you want?” His forehead rested against hers, reminding her of the moment earlier this day by the stream. “Tell me now if all you intended was to…converse.”

  A breathy laugh escaped and she leaned into him, embraced his heat and flattened her hands against his warrior-hard chest. “There’s nothing to stop us from conversing as well.”

  “Pillow talk?” Amusement heated his tone. Amusement—and rising desire. “You continue to surprise me.”

  “I trust I always shall.” She trailed her fingers over the length of plaid that swept over his shoulder and across his chest. “It would prevent boredom from intruding.”

  He began to untie one of her plaits, dropping the strip of blue linen onto the floor and teasing free each bound segment. “I’d never be bored with you.” He transferred his attention to her other plait as her fingers tightened on his plaid.

  He had scarcely touched her yet already desire licked at the apex of her thighs, a molten tongue promising abandoned delights. “Nor I with you.”

  His fingers speared through her hair, clasped her head. “It appears we agree on the fundamentals of a satisfactory life together.”

  He smiled that devastating smile. The smile that reached into her soul and bathed her in summer sunshine.

  It didn’t matter whether he meant the words or not. All that mattered was he had said them, and she would be able to savor them in the years ahead. Relive them in her mind, like glittering emeralds in an arid landscape.

  His roughened fingertips trailed the length of her throat, across the tops of her shoulders. There he paused, his eyes never leaving hers. “I want you, Aila of Ce. You’ve haunted my dreams since the moment I first saw you.” He traced the edge of her bodice, skimming her flesh, yet he branded her with flame. “I want this night to last forever but, God help me, it’s been awhile since—” He cut his words off, inhaled a sharp breath. “I don’t want to disappoint you, that’s all.”

  “I don’t believe it’s possible that you could disappoint me,” she whispered. She traced the outline of his lips with her finger. His uneven breath seared her skin. “It’s been nine years for me. I have all but forgotten what to do.”

  He kissed her fingertip, sucked it into his warm mouth, nibbled. Entranced, she watched, as though she had never witnessed such foreplay before in her life.

  Finally he released her. “I believe our first course of action should be to remove this exquisite gown.” He began to loosen her ties, his knuckles skimming the tops of her breasts as he parted her bodice. “I ache to see your naked body.”

  Her nipples hardened at his words even though they were still hidden from his scorching gaze. “I trust you won’t be disappointed.” The words were uneven and as he urged the linen over her breasts, he shot her a bone-melting smile.

  “I’ll let you know.”

  She laughed at his unexpected response, and his warm hands slid beneath the fabric and cupped her breasts. The laugh evaporated in her throat. This felt so good. His hands holding her. His thumbs nudging against her erect nipples. His intense gaze never flickering from hers.

  “What is your verdict so far?” Her voice was husky. She wanted to touch him, needed to touch him, but her disheveled gown prevented unrestricted movement.

  “Favorable.” The smoky word wrapped around her. “But I can’t make a final judgment on so fleeting an examination.”

  “Then may I suggest you proceed with all haste?” Amusement mingled with desire. Such a combination she had never imagined feeling tonight. But his teasing words eased her unspoken fears. As if he knew how nervous she was. No matter how much she wanted this. No matter that she was the instigator of this assignation.

  “My lady Aila.” His hands slid from her flesh and she ached at his withdrawal. “I didn’t imagine, from our previous acquaintance, that you possessed so impatient a nature.” As he spoke, he tugged at her gown, exposing her breasts, and then he eased the gown over her hips before allowing it to slide down her legs.

  The room wasn’t chilled and yet she began to shiver. She clenched her fists against her thighs in an effort not to wrap her arms around her body. To hide from him.

  Because, deep in her heart, she didn’t want to hide from him. And yet the urge to do just that was great.

  “Aila.” His tone no longer held a bantering note. “Don’t tremble.” He cradled her face within his palms, held her gaze as if she wasn’t naked and vulnerable before him. “I swear I won’t do anything until you’re ready. You believe me, don’t you?”

  She wrapped her hands around his wrists. “It’s not that.” And it wasn’t. No matter how desperate he might be for sexual satisfaction, she wasn’t afraid he would hurt her with his passion. “It’s—you’re the only man I’ve stood naked before, aside from my husband Onuist.”

  His tense expression relaxed. “Then climb in the bed and cover yourself. I have no wish to cause you any distress.”

  For a moment she was tempted. It would be so easy to hide in the bed and wait until he joined her under the furs. But the very fact he had suggested such a thing, when she knew how much he wanted to look at her body, made her pause.

  Tonight was all they had. Did she really want to hide under the furs?

  “No. This doesn’t distress me. It’s just very new for me.” She slid her hands along his muscled forearms and another tremor entirely unconnected to modesty assailed her. “That’s why I tremble.”

  He swallowed, affected in a way she hadn’t intended. “Then I also hope I don’t disappoint.”

  She tightened her grip around his magnificent biceps. Such potent strength flexed beneath her fingers. There was no doubt in her mind that he would be anything but a disappointment. “I’ll let you know.”

  As she had hoped, he laughed, and the strange tension her confession had created vanished. “I’m under no pressure, then?”

  “None.” She could scarcely believe they were having this conversation while she stood naked before him, when seduction scented the air, when only moments ago she had been seething with nerves. For one glorious second she imagined a lifetime ahead when they could share such moments. And instantly, but not quickly enough, pushed the enticing image from her mind.

  She would enjoy tonight. And not think of tomorrow when reality would once again intrude.

  Chapter Fourteen

  He unclasped the brooch on his left shoulder and placed it on top of the chest against the wall. Although he’d told her he ached to see her naked body, so far his gaze hadn’t slipped from hers.

  It was oddly endearing. As if he understood that the years of abstinence had inevitably weaved unwanted modesty throughout the fabric of her being.

  When his hands fell to his leather belt, her glance followed. Fascinated, she watched him drop the belt to the floor before he began to unwind the great length of plaid.

  “Do you require any assistance?” She scarcely recognized the smoky voice as her own.

  He tossed the plaid from his shoulder and the rest of the material fel
l to the floor, leaving him clad in only his knee-length linen shirt and boots. “Aye.”

  She tugged at the fastenings, loosened the ties and he bent toward her, allowing her access to pull the shirt over his head. She felt clumsy, like an untried maid, but it didn’t prevent her from flinging his shirt across the floor or gazing at his sculpted chest in reverent wonder.

  “What is your verdict?” His voice throbbed with need.

  She flicked the tip of her tongue over her lips. A dusting of dark hair shadowed his chest and scars of battle scored his hard warrior body. So utterly different from anything she had previously experienced. “Favorable.”

  A laugh rumbled. “Then we are even.”

  Even as he reached out to her, her glance slid down. The flickering torches cast darkness and light across his groin but couldn’t disguise the extent of his arousal. His cock, fully erect, thrust upward, his length impressive, his girth surely impossible.

  Had she forgotten so much?

  “Aila.” His heated whisper ignited her senses as he pulled her into his arms, and his rigid length scorched her belly. “My sweet Pictish lady.” His hands slid along the length of her back, sculpting the lines of her body, tantalizing and tender.

  She mirrored his movements, molding her palms over the hard planes of his shoulders and back, before gliding over the taut muscles of his buttocks. He jerked against her, his hot shaft searing her flesh, and molten need spiraled through her core.

  Without a word, he lifted her in his arms, and she clung on to his shoulders although she knew he would never drop her. With infinite tenderness, he lowered her onto the furs and sat beside her.

  “Come into the bed.” She wanted to wrap herself around him. Feel his hard body meld with hers. Hold him close in her arms this night and within her heart forever more.

  He grinned and pulled off one boot. “I intend to.” He discarded his second boot and turned so he was lying beside her, looking at her. “Your hair is like the finest of spun silk.” He slid a long curl between his fingers. “I have never seen such beautiful hair.”