Kilts and Kisses (10 page)

I
n one forward motion, Luthais pulled Ceana into his arms and pressed his lips to hers. His tongue traced the soft fullness of her lips and then explored her mouth. He shifted and kissed the pulsing hollow at the base of her throat as blood coursed through her veins.

Ceana became instantly awake.

His arms encircled her, one hand at the small of her back. She could feel his uneven breathing on her cheek as he held her close. The warmth of his arms was so male, so bracing. His mouth was warm and sweet on hers. The mere touch of his hand sent a warming shiver through her, and she tingled from the contact. She felt transported on a soft and wispy cloud.

His demanding lips caressed her, and his slow, drugging kisses were driving her mad. With his tongue, he ravished her mouth. He released her briefly, only enough to breathe, and then repeated his ritual. Raising his mouth from hers, he gazed into her eyes.

“If we donna stop now, I cannae be responsible for my actions. I will take your virtue and ruin ye for any other man.”

She placed her forehead to his, panting. “I was ruined for any other man the day that I met ye, Luthais MacKay.”

He slid her day dress off her shoulders and down her arms, so that she lay bare beneath his sultry glance. Then he tugged off his tunic and hastily tossed it aside.

Ceana gasped as bare skin met bare skin and she felt her breasts crush against the hardness of his chest.

Luthais picked up a lock of her hair and caressed it gently. “Ye are so verra bonny.”

When he lightly kneaded her breasts with his rough fingers and teased her nipples into hard, aching points, her mind was robbed of any coherent words. He lowered his head and kissed her taut buds, rousing a melted sweetness within her
.
She found it difficult to remain still when he suckled the tips of her breasts.

There was a heated swelling between her legs, a moistness she did not understand.

When he slid his hand over her trembling stomach and then between her legs, she froze. He kissed her again and, with a few skillful strokes of his fingers, alleviated her shock at how personally he was touching her. His finger thrust inside her, imitating the movement of his tongue in her mouth.

He felt so strong against her body that she was completely enthralled by his masculinity. The possessiveness of his touch did not lessen her awareness of the man in her arms. In truth, she sensed a sudden secureness, protectiveness, coming from him. Is this what it would’ve meant to be husband and wife? Her mind was so cluttered with thoughts that she wasn’t exactly sure what she was experiencing.

Luthais’s body moved to partially cover hers, his hands lifting her skirts above her hips. He reached down and loosened his kilt while he continued to drug her with passionate kisses. She was more than a little nervous, but he continued to distract her in pleasant ways.

He eased himself inside her and, with one quick thrust, made her his.

Ceana gasped as he held himself up on his forearms, fighting to remain still. His body shook with strain, and sweat beaded on his forehead. When she moved beneath him, he pressed his head to hers.

“God, lass. I’m trying nae to hurt ye. Please donna move. Ye’re going to unman me.”

She wasn’t sure what she was doing wrong, but he grasped her by the calves and gently pushed her legs up until her knees were bent. When he pressed deeper within her, she clamped her eyes shut and not from the pain.

He reached down and rubbed her most sensitive spot. Their bodies were in exquisite harmony with one another. A hunger inched through her veins, rousing her to the peak of desire. She wanted to yield to the burning sweetness that was captive within her.

The passion of his ardor mounted, and she finally abandoned herself to the whirl of sensations. Love flowed into her like warm, molten honey, shattering her into a million glowing stars.

S
orcha Gunn knocked on her cousin’s bedchamber door. She hesitated and then rapped again. Then, raising the latch, she took a peek inside. When she saw the room was dark, she said a silent prayer of thanks. She entered, closing the door behind her, and hastily made her way to the other side of the bed. If she was caught, there would be no escaping punishment for her actions this time. Lifting the feather mattress, she pulled out her cousin’s journal and walked to the desk. She would never have found the book if she hadn’t been searching for the dress she thought her cousin had stolen.

She fumbled for the candle and, once it was lit, flipped through the pages of the journal toward the end. Ceana thought she was clever, but Sorcha knew her cousin was nothing but simpleminded. Ceana and Sorcha’s new betrothed may have fooled everyone in the great hall, but Sorcha knew the two of them had known each other. A blind idiot could see that. She only needed proof, and then she’d demand that her cousins be sent away. She didn’t give a damn where. Quickly scanning the pages of her cousin’s journal, Sorcha’s eyes froze on a passage.

There it was.

Her daft cousin had written her thoughts in print. Not only was Ceana acquainted with Luthais MacKay, but they’d even shared a kiss. This was all the evidence Sorcha needed to get rid of her nemesis once and for all. She blew out the candle and carried the journal as if it were a sacred text. Making her way through the halls of the castle, she smiled as she passed her father’s portrait. She would always be her father’s daughter.

Sorcha was about to knock on her father’s study door when raised voices came from within. Needing a private moment with her father, she didn’t want to interrupt him and then have to explain why she was there in front of someone else. She placed her ear to the door, hoping the person inside was her mother.

“Ye still think the alliance with the MacKays will secure our future?”

“First, we must get them to trust us. That MacKay dog will nae even know his daughter-by-marriage betrayed him,” said her father. “I’ve been trying to seize MacKay lands for years, and now they’ll be mine for the taking. ‘Tis about damn time.”

“And if your daughter fails? Ye could always kill the MacKay and his son like ye did your brother and his wife. Shouldnae be too difficult to make it look like an accident or as if another clan was responsible.”

“Donna worry about Sorcha. She will nae fail. She’ll do anything that her father tells her to do.”

Sorcha gazed down at the journal that was now stained with her tears. She was breathless with rage and hurt. She swung open the door, not giving a damn who was behind it. She glared at her father and Raonull with burning, reproachful eyes. Fury almost choked her.

“Daughter, whatever are ye doing, and what do ye have there?”

She shut the door behind her with a heavy blow. “Sit down, Father.” The long look the two of them exchanged incensed her even more. Her expression became thunderous. “Ye too, Raonull. We all need to have a wee chat.”

L
uthais reined in his mount beside Ceana as the sun started to rise above the horizon. He’d never seen her look as beautiful as with her tousled hair and swollen lips. Satisfaction pursed his mouth, knowing he was responsible for her appearance. He winked when he caught her eye.

“Ye didnae sleep in your bed last eve. Will your sister be worried? Mayhap your uncle will send men out to find ye.”

“I doubt anyone, including my uncle, will even notice that I’m gone.”

He gathered his thoughts before he spoke again. “Are ye all right? Did I hurt ye?”

“The only part of me that aches is my heart. I’ll truly miss ye, Luthais. I wish there was a way we could be together.” She straightened herself in the saddle. “But my cousin will soon be your wife, and ye have a duty to your clan.”

He offered her a comforting smile. “There still may be a chance for us.”

“And what is that, pray tell?”

“We kissed, and we both touched
na tursachan
at the same time. Mayhap fate will save us both and we’ll be husband and wife, be as one.”

Ceana waved him off. “If ye’re going to tell me that my fallen tears will turn the heather beneath my feet white, then I’m glad we didnae wed.”

“Pardon?”

She shrugged. “Malvina.”

“I donna understand.”

“Nor do I when people believe in legends and tales of kissing at a stone when they should know better. Fate is what ye make it.”

Luthais couldn’t say that he disagreed. When they reached the border, he stopped and dismounted. He assisted Ceana from her horse and didn’t miss the touch of sadness that crossed her face. His fingers brushed her cheek.

“I donna think it wise for me to travel any farther. This isnae right, lass. I took your innocence. Ye should be my wife. If ye are with child—” He heard his voice and it sounded unnatural.

“And your clan would be warring with mine if ye refused to wed Sorcha.” She grabbed his hand and closed her eyes. “I want to take a moment longer. I want to remember our time together, ye, and the way we are now.” Her gaze met his. “Luthais, I—”

Ceana flung herself away from him at the sound of thundering hoofbeats and at the sight of his betrothed.

C
eana watched in horror as Sorcha dismounted and approached them with a wicked smile.
Good God!
What could Ceana possibly say now since she’d been caught in the arms of her cousin’s betrothed? She shifted from foot to foot and stole a quick glance at Luthais as he stepped forward.

“Mistress Gunn, what a pleasant surprise to see ye—”

She held up her hand. “Please save your words for someone who believes them.” Sorcha’s accusing gaze was riveted on Ceana, but then she turned and narrowed her eyes at Luthais. “Do ye love my cousin?”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Pardon?”

“I donna have time for games. I asked ye a question, and I deserve an honest response.” She placed her hands on her hips, waiting for an answer.

“I only met your cousin yester—”

“I know ye kissed her at the loch, and I also know that Ceana’s ne’er felt this way before about anyone. Ye made her heart ‘sing with delight,’” said Sorcha in a singing tone. “Those were your words. Were they nae?” She turned, smiling at Ceana.

“How could ye possibly know that?” Ceana didn’t realize that her voice went up a notch or two. Sorcha walked to her mount and ruffled through a satchel. As she came back, she lifted a brow and held out Ceana’s journal. “
Bàs an fhithich ort
!”
May you suffer the death of the raven!

“To be truthful, I’m surprised ye didnae curse me with hawks, Cousin. But aye, I spent the night reading your journal. In the future, ye may nae want to write down all your thoughts so anyone can find them, or at least find a better place to hide your book.” She handed Ceana back her journal. “But that’s nae the reason I’m here.” Sorcha turned to Luthais and placed her hand on his arm.

He stiffened at the gesture.

“I know ye’re going to be verra disappointed with what I’ve come to say, but I’m afraid that I simply cannae marry ye. Ye must know that I’ve had many suitors from which to choose. I’m ashamed to admit that I havenae really given this subject the amount of thought that I should. In short, I’ve agreed too hastily to be wed. I dare say we are now in quite the quandary.”

Sorcha turned to Ceana and sighed. “The Gunns have made an alliance with the MacKays, and now that the betrothal is broken, I’m afraid so is the agreement. Unless of course, Mister MacKay weds another Gunn.” She shrugged. “Then I suppose the alliance would be restored and all would be well.”

A warning voice whispered in Ceana’s head. “What is this about, Sorcha? I donna understand what ye’re doing. Does Uncle John know about this? He would ne’er let ye—”

“What about my father? He’s aware that I refuse to wed Mister MacKay.” Sorcha smiled at Luthais. “Please take nay offense.”

Luthais’ eyes shifted from Sorcha to Ceana.

“Father has even given ye his blessing to marry Mister MacKay. If Mister MacKay wants to wed ye, of course.”

“I want naught more in this world.” Luthais smiled at Sorcha. “Please take nay offense.”

Ceana’s mind raced with new ideas, but she was in too much shock to even put two words together to form a coherent sentence. This was all occurring so fast. What could’ve possibly happened from last eve until now to have Fate change its fickle mind—and her cousin’s?