The Highlanders Bride Page 6

  Craig pressed on. “I mean she needs you, you need a wife, she’s more than pretty and…and…well—Conor, she’s not afraid of you.” He turned and directed the question to her.

  “Are you? I mean, are you afraid of Conor?”

  Laurel’s eyebrows furrowed at the notion. “Of course I am not afraid of Conor. What a ridiculous idea. I may be frequently aggravated where your brother is concerned, but I am not afraid of him.”

  This answer resulted in a bunch of grinning McTiernays. These highlanders were really a baffling bunch.

  “Laurel,” she turned to look at him when Conor spoke, “one more thing. You will be living in McTiernay Castle.”

  His clarification was heard, but not well received. Her regal but defiant stance was unbending. “I will not. It would not be proper.”

  “I thought you were disinterested in being a lady.”

  “I may not be interested in society’s rules for proper conduct, but I still will not live under your roof.”

  “You will.”

  “No, I will not.”

  Conor leaned down and whispered into her ear. “Love, trust me, you will.”

  She twisted to reply. Pain suddenly ripped through her side, but it did not deter her from responding. “Conor, if you make me, you will rue the day,” she promised in return. Just as he was lifting his head to move away, Laurel grasped his shirt and kept him near.

  “Conor, I really must leave,” she whispered.

  Misunderstanding, Conor believed she meant to go her own way the next day, and that he would never see her again. Suddenly, he was full of panic. Although no one would know to look at him, he was seized with fear that Laurel would leave him—that she wanted to leave him, and soon. He instantly decided never to let that happen. Regardless of her wishes, Laurel was staying with him until he decided it was over.

  “Never. You will never leave,” he stated with far more bite than he intended.

  “I don’t think you understand. I should not have been so reckless, throwing the daggers,” she whispered back.

  The daggers? What did the daggers have to do with her leaving? He decided that this discussion needed to continue in private. He gave everyone menacing glares for them to retreat to their previous activities. He then grabbed Laurel’s arm and started hauling her towards the river.

  “Conor, please,” she softly cried as tears started welling in her eyes.

  Immediate concern enveloped him. “Laurel? Why are you crying?”

  “As I said, I shouldn’t have thrown those damn daggers. But I did. My pride always was a source of problems for me,” she sniffled.

  “What about those daggers has you so wound up?”

  “My ribs are killing me. I twisted too fast and the bindings gave. The pain is getting fairly unbearable. I didn’t realize how much the bindings helped, but it hurts even to breathe now. Can you—can you help me to the river and rebind them?”

  Relief and then dread filled his veins simultaneously. She wasn’t leaving him at all. In fact she needed him! But his desire to touch her was barely controllable as it was. Whenever he was close to her, the elusive, womanly scent of her tugged at his insides, arousing him. If he were so near to her again, he would surely cave into his desire.

  Through an extraordinary act of will, Conor suppressed his passions and led her to the river. Once he helped her unbind the twisted fittings, he waited out of sight while she bathed and prepared for the night.

  He went farther down the river to bathe himself. Unfortunately, the cold water did little to calm his craving for her. Conor thought how alive he had felt the first time he had held Laurel. An overwhelming sense of rightness he had never experienced before—the need to have her—pulsed through him like fire. By the time he returned, his need for her was all-consuming. She had her all-too-feminine chemise on and was waiting for him to help with the bindings.

  “Sorry,” he said roughly, referring to having kept her waiting.

  “Hmm? Oh, that’s all right,” she said, staring at his shirt that was molded to his chest. He must have bathed as well and dressed while still wet. He was so solid and strong, and his semi-wet top emphasized the natural elegance of his powerful frame. The hair on his chest was dark and tapered as she lowered her gaze. She had not realized how much the loose linen shirt hid. What had not occurred to her was that she had dressed after bathing in the same wet state, her thin, lacy chemise clinging and revealing her well-formed body.

  Conor, though, was well aware of her garment and how it hugged every inch of her. He could concentrate on little else. Her breasts were ample, and he could see the rosy nipples through the thin cloth. The chemise was molded to her hips, leaving him no doubt as to her curves and beauty. The tightness in his loins multiplied.

  “Conor?” Laurel inquired as she innocently handed him the bindings he had used last time. “If you could assist me just one more time. I didn’t realize how much they were helping me.”

  He took the wrappings and began binding her ribs once again. In doing so, he inadvertently touched her breasts several times. The sensation caused a liquid warmth to pool between her legs. All of a sudden she wanted him to really touch her, not just through fabric. She wanted to feel his skin against hers.

  She couldn’t understand these cravings or where they were coming from. She didn’t love him, did she? He was an incredibly attractive man, but he was also an aggravating, insufferable, arrogant giant who deliberately set out to goad her into anger, then enjoyed her unladylike responses. She desperately sought to control herself and her behavior.

  Conor knew he was playing with fire as he bound her ribs. First, he investigated the injury to ensure that she had not made things worse by throwing the dagger. He admitted to himself that he had been duly impressed when she exhibited her skills. He had never seen a woman move more deftly and swiftly with a weapon. Her skill and accuracy evoked a pride in him that he couldn’t explain. But it was there nonetheless.

  Laurel not only had the traits of a real lady—beauty, charm, and grace—but she had all the requirements needed to survive in the highlands. She was smart, skilled, resourceful, courageous, and had enough stamina to outlast any female he knew, and several men.

  Her damp hair smelled of highland flowers in the spring, and her skin was smooth and sensual. He hurried to complete the torturous task. As he finished, he looked up and saw gratitude in her eyes. But there was something else there. She wanted him. Aye, she was just as disturbed as he was by their proximity.

  She looked at him, motionless, as if waiting for him to make the first move. Something primitive erupted deep inside Conor under her glittering gaze. His hand brushed her cheek as he pushed her wet locks behind her shoulders. His other hand stroked her arm as he looked all the while into her eyes. Without a word, he leaned down and brushed his mouth lightly across hers, urging her to comply.

  Her lips were soft, warm and innocent. He slanted his mouth against hers, and she kissed back, increasing the pressure. Her fingers splayed across his back, and he carefully pulled her up against his chest. The effect of her roving hands and her breasts on his body caused the constant ache in his loins to grow painful with need.

  He deepened the kiss and played with her lower lip, encouraging her mouth to open to him. When she finally did, he dove in, absorbing her into himself while his hands slid slowly up her spine. She tasted so good. Just like her scent, her kisses were fresh, new, and innocent.

  Laurel didn’t know that men and women ever kissed like this. When his tongue first danced with hers, she wanted to retract, but he wouldn’t let her. The erotic feel of his mouth grew until she was responding in kind, kissing him over and over again. Both her hands were wrapped in his hair, keeping his head down, encouraging the embrace to continue.

  Conor had no intention of leaving the sweet vulnerable warmth behind her lips. The way Laurel was responding, he knew that her desire for more was also surfacing. Slowly his hand went down her shoulder and then down her back and rested under her breasts gently on the binding he had just tied.

  When she increased the intensity of the kiss, his thumbs started rubbing her nipples back and forth until they were hard underneath his caress.

  Laurel was surprised at being touched so intimately and was about to pull away when he broke from her mouth and started exploring her neck. At the same time, his hands were massaging and coaxing her taut breasts, causing her to unconsciously arch her back so he would have better access.

  Her response was so genuine, so unrehearsed and pure, it fueled his need. Never had he wanted a woman like he wanted Laurel. How could someone so new to the ways of love and her own passions could be so incredibly desirable?

  Slowly he slipped the sleeves of her chemise down so that her breasts were freed from the linen constriction. He looked down at her, and he saw that her passion-filled eyes were an intense blue-green. Never had he seen anything more lovely nor had he ever had the desire to make love with a woman more than he did right then.

  Bending down, he took one nipple into his mouth. His tongue began to dance around the firm mound and his teeth nibbled the taut nubs. She moaned in response. Never in her life had she experienced or dreamed of anything like this. The world disappeared around her as his tongue swirled again and again, teasing each hardened nipple.

  The warmth between her legs had steadily been growing and was now a blazing fire. The world around her had disappeared, and all she was aware of or cared about was Conor and what he was doing to her. She didn’t know what was happening, but she wanted more, needed more.

  Conor was exploding with need. Her response and her repeated moans of pleasure were causing him to forget where they were.

  Suddenly, he became aware of a young male voice invading his pursuit of heaven. “Conor! Hey, Conor! Cole and Finn sent me to get you. Where are you?”

  Damn. It was Craig. What did he want? Conor quickly stopped and held an unsteady Laurel in his arms. The last few moments had left them both trembling with passion. He stroked her back and tried to calm his own desires.

  “Conor! I am assuming you know where Laurel is. You may want to get her and bring her back. There is some movement on the perimeter from the other side of the camp, and it doesn’t look too friendly.”

  Conor called out to Craig before he reached them. “Fine. Return to camp and let Finn know that I will be getting Laurel and returning immediately. Do not do anything until I get there.”

  He heard Craig mumble and his retreating steps. “Laurel, love, we have to go back.”

  She still had a death grip on his shirt, burying her face into his chest. He could feel her nod in agreement.

  She took several deep breaths and raised her head. Still reeling from unfulfilled sexual need, she had so many questions for herself as well as him. But she realized that neither of them had any answers. Not saying a word, they prepared to leave the river and return to camp.

  Once they were back, Conor left with Finn and his guard to investigate the movement on the ridge. They were on the edge of highland country and close to several clan boundaries. However, tonight’s disturbance was just a pack of wolves looking for their next meal. By the time Conor had returned, Laurel was asleep on his plaid.

  Tonight, he wasn’t going to wait until her nightmares came. He crouched down and gathered her into his arms. She instinctively turned and placed her head on his shoulder and nestled close.

  The joy and peace he felt holding her in his arms was unbelievable. Earlier that evening, this captivating woman had him feeling so hard and on fire. Now, while he still wanted her with a fierce possessiveness, he didn’t want to do anything to disturb this absolute feeling of contentment.

  He bent his head and kissed her hair, inhaling her sweet scent. How this Englishwoman had woven a spell around him so quickly he did not know. But he knew that he was decisively caught in her enchanting web. He also knew that he was never going to let her go. His last thought before he drifted to sleep was that Laurel belonged to him.

  Chapter Four

  They had been traveling most of the morning when Finn pulled back to ride next to Laurel for a while. The terrain had changed, and they were now steadily climbing into higher country. Laurel was glad their horses were bred with the stamina and strength needed to continue up the mountains.

  “Milady.”

  “Finn,” she returned with a smile that would light even the darkest of nights.

  Oh, this lady was going to set the clan in a whirl, he thought. “How do you fare this morn? Your breathing does not seem as labored.”

  She smiled in agreement. “Fine. My ribs are mending, and my breathing has much improved.”

  He fell behind her momentarily as the path narrowed. “I’m glad. We should be home in a day or two, depending upon the weather.”

  She moved Borrail closer to his mount. “Finn. Please do not let the group travel slower for my sake. I can keep up.”

  He saw the earnest pleading in her hazy, bluish-green eyes and decided that he could neither lie nor tell her the truth. “Aye, milady, but we can only travel at the pace of the slowest animal.”

  Laurel thought to ask whose animal was the slowest and then decided that she didn’t want to know if it was hers. Instead, she changed the subject.

  “You mentioned that we would soon reach McTiernay land.”

  Aware of the tension in his laird’s posture, Finn focused on the path ahead and avoided unnecessary eye contact with the bewitching woman at his side. “Aye, milady.”

  “Can you tell me a little more about the McTiernays?”

  “Well, milady, the McTiernays are a proud, strong clan, and Conor is a wise and strong leader.” Finn paused trying to determine how to talk about the respect and admiration he had for his clansmen and laird.

  “The laird is following in his father’s ways, leading his clan with a calm but firm hand. His skill with the sword and ability to train men have enabled him to build strong allegiances with many important clans. Recently, the McTiernays have absorbed a couple of smaller clans, so our numbers are formidable. Conor now has the job of bringing their fighting skills up to the level of their numbers.”

  Laurel considered what Finn had told her. “Why would Conor agree to absorb men who could not contribute to the clan as well as his other soldiers?”

  “Well, milady, the laird has a reputation of leading men who are highly skilled and ruthless in battle. This gives him a position of influence and power. Some of the smaller highland bands have had no choice but to join a larger clan for support. Then there are the highly skilled warriors who have no clan to return to after fighting for William Wallace and Robert the Bruce.”

  Laurel nodded, knowing that Edward I had been plaguing Scotland with wars for years and was only recently driven from these lands with the exception of the three or four Scottish castles still under his control.

  “Other clans,” Finn continued, “are predominantly farmers or have lost most of their trained soldiers to battles. The younger men remaining have yet to be trained and are looking for leaders who can instruct and guide as well as protect. Our laird,” Finn said devotedly, “is one of the few who excels at all three. This is why, milady, you are so fortunate.”

  As she was about to contest his last statement, he added, “But I don’t think my laird realizes that it is he who may be the lucky one.”

  Puzzled, she responded, “Finn, I think you and the rest of this party misunderstand Conor’s intentions. He finds me a mystery, something to figure out. But he does not desire me.”

  Finn did not react to her comment and continued looking forward, giving his laird no reason to be concerned. “Milady, that is simply not true.”

  “Fine, I will not insult your intelligence and say that there is not some strange attraction between us. But, Finn, it has not, nor will it ever be acted upon.” The intensity of her last statement caused Finn to turn and look at her disbelievingly.

  Laurel’s eyes were large and round with sincerity. “I mean it. Ask your laird directly if you must. But he has told me in a most honest and candid manner that he has no intention of marrying. I do not think that his views on matrimony have changed.”

  Finn knew that Conor had strong views, especially on marriage, but he was sure that Laurel had shifted them. Could it be that Conor had not thought ahead to what would happen upon their return? Once news traveled that Laurel was unwed and available, many would seek her hand in marriage. Conor was deceiving himself if he thought he would allow that to happen. But maybe Conor’s short-sightedness was a good thing, Finn reflected.

  Finn had seen the two interacting and knew they would be happy together. Conor had never seemed so alive. He laughed and argued and was genuinely open and expressive when she was around. In her, it seemed that Conor had found what he had been searching for—someone to whom he could open his heart and soul. He may not know Laurel as well as his laird, but Finn guessed that she, too, acted more naturally around him than she ever had in the proper world in which she had been raised. If he didn’t know better, he would swear she had Scottish blood coursing through her veins. It was just when she spoke with that awful English accent that the idea sounded ridiculous.

  “Umm, returning to our original discussion,” Laurel encouraged, “what about the McTiernay brothers? They seem to be a rather close lot. I have one brother, but he and I never were sociable.”

  Finn’s grip on his reins tightened. “Will your brother be looking for you now that you have disappeared?”

  Her somber dismissal calmed his fears for his laird. “No, Finn, I think my brother will be more relieved than anything else at my disappearance,” she said sorrowfully and prodded her horse onward.

  Saddened by her change in mood, Finn tried to refocus her thoughts and began describing the McTiernay brothers. “Now, each of the younger McTiernays has a reputation of being fierce warriors on the battleground. While only the three eldest have actually seen battle, the younger McTiernays are all in training and will be excellent soldiers. All of them—even Clyde—have shown a keen gift for strategy, a McTiernay trait. Unfortunately, that is the one skill most difficult to teach.”