Chapter Seven

 

The light was streaming through the window, making it difficult for Maggie to keep her eyes closed. Even after a fitful sleep, she wasn’t ready to move just yet. The bed was far softer than the ground she’d slept upon lately, and the blanket much warmer. Why not enjoy this tiny pleasure a little while longer?

Maggie allowed a yawn to escape as she languorously stretched her legs. The heel of her foot grazed Alex’s shin, and her eyes flew open wide. How could she have forgotten—even for a second—they were sharing a bed? If it wasn’t for the temporary paralysis of stupor, she would have shot out of the bed like an arrow.

Her bedmate shifted, and the pleasant weight of his hand came to rest upon her hip. Maggie sucked in a breath. She needed to slip away, but how to do it without waking him? The longer she stayed there, the harder it would be to maintain her sanity. As it was, his touch was rousing sensations she shouldn’t explore any further.

Maggie nipped at her lower lip. His warm breath on the back of her neck wasn’t doing a thing to discourage her either. Each of his exhalations sent delicious shivers down her spine. For a moment, she contemplated waking him with a kiss. Or even…

No. That was a fantasy, and it needed to remain so.

She took a deep breath to clear her thoughts, but it did her no good. An arousing combination of scents softly enveloped her. The sheets, her shift—everything smelled of Alex, earthy and male. If she closed her eyes she could imagine they were deep in the woods again, with the wild grass tickling her back and the tall, lush trees shielding them from the morning sun.

His hand began moving slowly from her hip to her thigh. Her breathing hitched. Was he awake? Or merely restless in his sleep? His featherlight touch felt like a whisper against her skin, beckoning the siren in her to come out and play.

Dare she?

“Mornin’ to ye, lass.” The deep bass of his voice lulled her.

“You’re awake.”

“Aye.” He nuzzled a particularly sensitive spot on her neck, and she couldn’t suppress a moan.

Goose bumps jumped to life beneath the thin fabric of her shift as his playful strokes tickled her thigh. “Have you been awake for long?”

“Mm-hmm. For quite some time.”

Her words came as a hoarse whisper. “Why are you still abed, then?”

He answered her with a touch, running his fingers gently along her abdomen. Her belly undulated in response, sending his hand lower. She groped for the sheet to keep herself anchored as he brought his gloriously naked form against her backside.

Her mind sought to hang her body for treason. This was wrong. Irresponsible. Selfish.

Wondrous.

Her center grew wet as she felt the length of his long, thick erection pressed against her bottom. If only…

She should stop him. She should put her foot down and forbid him from continuing.

Perhaps in another moment, she would find her voice.

For someone who could wield a sword as if it was an extension of his own person, Alex could be surprisingly tender. He lavishedher exposed shoulder with soft, moist kisses, leaving cool spots on her heated skin. If she hadn’t known better, she would’ve sworn he was stricken with something far stronger than lust.

“Alex…”

Gently, he turned her onto her back and let his eyes take in their fill. “Aye.” Invitingly, he brushed his lips against hers. There was nothing hurried about the act—nothing urgent or pressing. It was as if they had all day. All week.

Forever.

She couldn’t think like that. They led very different lives. He walked the path of a rogue, she of…of…

Oh mercy, it was difficult to think when he was hovering above her, naked.

Before she could stop herself, she reached out and placed a trembling hand on his chest. She tried to mimic his seduction using the same unhurried strokes, but froze altogether when their gazes met. A girl could lose her soul in the depths of those azure eyes.

Hadn’t she already?

Many a time she had dreamed of making love with him, and now she was just a whisper away from fulfilling her fantasy. For years she’d wanted him to notice her, to desire her. And now she had him. That alone held far more power than any rational thought in her mind.

“Och, ye are such a bonnie lass, Margaret Fraser.”

The glances they exchanged were brief but intense. In the span of a heartbeat, she swore he was about to mutter an oath to her. She watched, enraptured, as his lips parted, but then closed again. He swallowed whatever words were about to come forth and leaned forward, coaxing her lips to part for him. With their mouths locked in an intriguing dance, she could taste his need.

With one hand, he rucked up the thin barrier of material and found her breast. She murmured incoherently as he rolled her nipple between his calloused fingers, sending a bolt of electricity through her core. Though he’d touched her there before, the ripples of pleasure hadn’t been nearly as intense as they were now. Using his tongue, Alex drew lazy circles on her collarbone. Then nipped ever so gently along her nape.

Maggie sucked in a breath as he reached between her legs and delved into her wetness. The tip of his thumb flicked nimbly at her clit.

She was at his mercy, and he knew it.

Damn him!

Alex hovered above her, eyes twinkling mischievously in the daylight. Maggie licked her bottom lip, silently daring him to do as he wished. As she wished.

His autumn-brown hair, rumpled from a good night’s sleep, hung loosely about his face. She reached out and tangled her fingers within the sleek mass, tugging slightly in invitation. His mouth descended upon hers, and she was lost.

 

Alex longed to possess her, inside and out. His body trembled as he fought the urge to bury his cock hard and deep inside her pussy. He had to have her. The fever she stirred within him was back and wouldn’t be denied.

He groaned as she wrapped her fingers around his erection. The little vixen stroked him slowly, teasing him with every movement. He felt his roger growing thicker by the moment, his bollocks getting painfully tighter. Their lips disengaged, and he blazed a trail to her breast and suckled. The scent of rose water enveloped him as he ran his fingers down her silky smooth skin, claiming what little sanity he had left.

“Ye are an enchantress, lass,” he charged in a soft voice.

Her laugh was lyrical. “I’m afraid you must still be dreaming, MacKay.”

“Nay.” He nuzzled her chin. “I’m verra much aware of what I’m doing.” He engaged her in a languorous kiss, guiding her now motionless hand away from his erection so he could close the distance between them.

She stilled as his cock pressed against her opening. He paused, waiting for her to deny him. Her lips parted and in a tone that was half plea, half demand, she implored, “I want you inside of me, MacKay. Now.”

He raised an eyebrow, then flashed her a wicked grin. “Aye.” Alex slipped his hands beneath her shoulders. “Far be it for me to argue, lass.”

Maggie braced herself, knowing the first time would bring her pain. His lips brushed against her neck, featherlight and tender, as he pulled back. Without further ado he plunged deep inside her, tearing her barrier with his long, thick cock. Her eyes flew open wide from the physical shock of it. He crushed her lips with his mouth, swallowing the last of her cry. The pain lessened a degree as he stilled, and she could feel him pulsating inside her. “I’m sorry, love,” he offered with sincerity. “I promise, it willna hurt so much now.”

He was right. Slowly, he withdrew and entered her again. The intense pain had subsided, and an agonizing need was building in its place. Each time he pulled back, her pussy throbbed with the need to be filled again, and her opening wept with the momentary loss. Her body felt hot all over—fevered, almost—and every nerve ending was pulsing in time to her heartbeat. Alex stretched her arms above her head and pinned them there with one hand. “Ye canna be touching me or I willna last.” With her hands safely out of the way, he began laving kisses upon her breasts, stopping only to suckle at her nipples.

“Oh, Alex, please,” she began, but couldn’t find the words to finish. She needed release.

“Aye.” His tone was sensual and rough all at the same time. It made her throb inside. “What is it ye want?”

“Fuck me,” she panted, “harder.”

Alex slowly withdrew, only to thrust with more force than before. “Like that, Maggie?”

Her breathing was ragged, her heartbeat pounding as quickly as it could. If he didn’t bring her to climax soon, she was going to explode. “Yes. Yes, like th—oooooh.”

He worried one nipple with the tip of his teeth. “Say my name again.”

“Alex.” Even to her own ears, she sounded desperate with need. Bucking her hips, she was meeting him thrust for thrust.

“You’re mine, Maggie.” He thrust into her again. “You’re mine. Say it, lass.”

Maggie felt herself spiraling out of control. If there was ever any doubt in her mind the Highlander desired her, body and soul, it fled in that instant. “I’m yours, MacKay. Please…”

With a feral growl, he drove his cock so deep inside her she swore she was branded. “You were always mine,” he declared, pulling her tighter.

Maggie slipped one of her hands free and gripped the taut muscles of his arse. “Oh God!” She cried out his name as she came, her body shuddering with the sheer force of it. The liquid heat of his seed filled her womb as Alex joined her.

The only sound in the room was of the two of them trying to catch their breath. Maggie felt his heartbeat, strong and powerful, through her rib cage. He planted a kiss on her forehead before resting his cheek against hers.

It was then, in the stillness of the afterglow, that the burden of their deed began weighing upon her conscience.

What have I done?

* * * * *

Alex hoisted his bag on Thunder’s back with minimal effort, taking his eyes off Margaret long enough to complete the task. She’d said very little to him since they’d rousted, but her downcast gaze told him plenty.

It wasn’t his intention to take her maidenhead, no matter how badly he desired her. When he’d teased her with well-placed kisses and caresses, he’d only a mind for them to pleasure one another as they’d done before. But when Maggie asked him to take her, he’d lost all control. Despite the fact she had the most luscious body he’d ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes—or his hands—upon, he should have refused her. He was supposed to show restraint. It had been his duty to ensure she remained a virgin.

He had failed.

And now she was miserable. Aye, she’d enjoyed the coupling as much as he, but there was little doubt she regretted it now. Likely she was angry with him too. He supposed he couldn’t blame her. Though he wouldn’t have allowed her the opportunity to give herself over to the duke, Maggie didn’t know that. What she did know was her family needed her help and Alex had destroyed her bargaining chip.

How chivalrous of him.

Alex passed another glance in Maggie’s direction as he waited for the inn’s groomsman to bring her a horse from the stable. He’d purchased a mare younger and sturdier than her stolen one, knowing her father would be more apt to approve. Perhaps he wouldn’t ask as many questions that way. Besides, there was no doubt Maggie would be relieved to have her own mount to ride.

Even when she was troubled, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. Her long, fiery locks were coiffed atop of her head, the mass held firmly in place by a bundle of pins. He knew how many she’d used, and where each one was placed. He’d watched her as she’d dressed and primped, taking in every subtle move Maggie had made. If he closed his eyes, he could remember even the minutest details—the way her lips parted when she slid the pins into position, her jaw set in determination as she swept the last of her wayward locks into place.

Thunder tamped his hooves at the murky earth, breaking Alex out of his reverie. “Aye, we’ll be leaving soon enough, old boy,” Alex assured him as he smoothed his hand down the stallion’s rib cage. They needed to be on their way. The more time he spent with Margaret, the harder it would be to part ways.

Now that he’d finally had Margaret naked beneath him, his fascination with her should have waned. It had always been the way with him. Fucking a beautiful woman was akin to scratching an itch—and rarely had he scratched the same area twice. Granted, he’d tumbled with Fi a dozen times or so, but their relationship had been a matter of mutual convenience.

Maggie Fraser was different than Fi. Hell, she was nothing like anyone he’d lain with. Making love with her had been far sweeter than anything he’d ever imagined. Her skin was so soft and silky against him, her pussy so tight around his cock. And the woman herself was nothing shy of glorious. She was everything he’d ever wanted and more.

Odd how satisfying his fantasy left him feeling deprived.

“Yer beast’s name, sir?” came a stable lad’s voice from across the way.

There was a hesitation before the other man spoke. “Rebecca.”

Immediately recognizing the horse’s name, Alex whirled around. Ian wasn’t more than twenty yards from where he stood. How the hell?

The lad leaned forward stiffly, checking the underside of the steed. “Er…pardon my curiosity, sir, but is it not an odd name for a male?”

Ian grumbled as he always did when the subject came up. “I didna name the damn horse, and the stubborn beast willna answer to anything else.”

There was an indent in the boy’s cheek. No doubt he was biting it to keep from laughing aloud at his client. With a slight bob of his head, he took the reins and headed into the stable.

“Ian, man!” Alex called as he strode across the muck and mud.

“There ye are, MacKay!” The men met halfway and clasped each other in a hearty greeting.

“What are ye doing here? I was told ye’d be at the brook.”

Ian nodded, his dusty-blond hair falling in his face as he did so. “I heard ye were asking for me. I knew it had to be important.”

“Aye.” He motioned for his friend to follow him. “We left the brook yesterday afore the rain. How in blazes did ye find me?”

“I knew ye wouldna get far in a downpour. They said ye were traveling with a lady. Ian gave him a cheeky grin. “Is it Mary?”

“Nay! I havena seen her in a year or better.”

He tipped his head back in thought. “Ellen?”

“At the brook? Are ye insane?”

“Fiona?”

Alex snorted.

“Betsy?”

“My father’s maid? Nay, she’s with child.”

Ian raised a brow. “Yours?”

Alex glowered. “Nay. I wouldna be that careless.”

He stumbled slightly as reality struck him. Aye, he had been that careless…with Margaret, and not more than an hour ago. He’d not used the French letters. With Margaret having been a virgin, it was unlikely she’d used any form of birth deterrent herself. What in the hell had he done?

Ian sighed and turned around. “I suppose it has been a while since last we met. Who is the lucky lass, then? Do I know her?”

Alex hoped he hadn’t left Maggie with child. What were the chances? She didn’t have her courses now—a shame, as it would have been the safest time—but he had no idea how close or far away it might be.

He forced his thoughts away to answer Ian’s question. “Her name is Margaret Fraser.”

“Fraser…” He paused. “Isn’t that Robbie Fraser’s sister?”

Alex nodded, his mind barely registering what Ian was saying.

“Oh Lord, MacKay.” Ian shook his head. “Robbie is going to kill ye.”

Alex straightened. He’d temporarily forgotten that wee bit of information. He knew Maggie’s brother well, and Ian wasn’t far off the mark—between her father and brother, Alex was a dead man.

Or gelded, at the least.

“Were ye looking for me to protect ye?” Ian asked, unblinking.

Perhaps he’d a need to consider that later, but for now his focus needed to be elsewhere. He shook his head. “Nay. I need an ally to assist me in slaying an unholy beast.”

Ian stroked the leather strap of his scabbard with blistered fingers. “And the name of this beast?”

Alex leveled his eyes with his. “The Duke of Westingham.”

* * * * *

Margaret paced the squeaky porch at the entrance of the inn. How much longer would Alex keep her waiting? He had gone to the back side of the stable with one of the inn’s guests and had yet to reemerge. Perhaps she should consider it a reprieve, but Margaret knew it merely put off the inevitable. The two of them would be traveling together, no matter how unsettling it would be. With shaking fingers, she toyed with the pins in her hair. How she’d managed to get them in place as Alex watched her, she couldn’t begin to guess. At least he’d had the courtesy to hide it, stealing glances at her from the corner of his eye when he thought she wasn’t watching.

He’d displayed a certain boyish fascination with the process, and she hadn’t the heart to call him on it. Her breath escaped on a sigh. Now Alex knew her more intimately than anyone ever had—and more than anyone else ever would. He’d wanted her most treasured possession and she’d given it willingly, but the echo of regret reverberated in its place. No longer was she an eligible candidate for the ducal bed.

Despite the heat already assaulting her, tiny bumps formed on her flesh. She rubbed at them as if she could scrub them away, taking with them the erotic images molesting her mind. Seducing the duke seemed so tawdry. Making love to Alex was a precious memory she would never forget. Could she really have played the duke like a common whore? Bargaining with her body for the freedom of another man?

Perhaps.

It would only have been one time, after all. If it solved her family’s dilemma, it would have been worth it.

It’s too late for that. There’s no going back. The leaden weight in the pit of her stomach was a constant reminder. Though she’d had her moments of apprehension before, she’d at least felt as if she had some control over the matter. It had been her decision to make, her plan to carry out, her way of swaying destiny. Now she’d been stripped of her power and there was no way to get it back.

Alex knew what their lovemaking had destroyed. Had he seduced her for that very purpose? He hated the duke and was against her plan from the moment he’d learned of it. Not once had he offered an apology for taking her maidenhead. There was no sign of remorse, no utterances of mistakes made. Had he used her? She balled her hands into fists, wanting to strike out at Alex and inflict a wound as deep as hers.

But what if she was wrong? There was a chance his affections had been genuine. He’d certainly seemed sincere. The way he touched her, the way he kissed her—he’d made her feel desired and cherished. Maggie wanted desperately to believe he’d be chivalrous and offer for her hand, that their lovemaking had meant something to him.

Her throat tightened with the threat of tears. She couldn’t lie to herself. Alex wasn’t the marrying kind. He’d made that clear enough to his past lovers. Surely she was no exception.

Maggie could almost hear her mother’s voice, chastising her for being foolhardy and losing her maidenhead to a rogue.

What if the rumors about Alex were true? What if he did leave as soon as the deed was done? It was taking him an interminable amount of time to fetch the horse. Was it possible he’d taken Thunder and run the other way?

Doubtful.

But nonetheless…

She stopped wearing a path in the floorboards long enough to reach into her pocket and pull out what money she had left. With a grunt, she shoved the coins back in her pocket and resumed pacing. There wasn’t even enough to purchase a three-legged horse. She was tempted to roll her eyes heavenward, but had no desire to see the number of multi-legged creatures hanging from gossamer webs above her head. The porch was teeming with the blasted things.

Maggie detested tears but if she didn’t cling to the thought of throttling Alexander, they would fall nonetheless. Anger was an easier emotion to deal with than grief. And directing her emotions at Alex was far easier than chastising herself for her own transgressions.

“I take it yer leaving,” muttered an abrading voice from behind her.

Maggie turned. A pair of cold gray eyes met her gaze. She couldn’t remember the lady’s name, just that she was the wife of one of the men who’d played cards the previous evening. She hadn’t been the chatty sort, which left Maggie wondering what she was about now. “Yes, we are.” Her tone was laced with conviction, belying her own skepticism. “Alexander is fetching our horse as we speak.”

The woman crossed her arms and sashayed onto the porch. She studied Maggie from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. “Are ye sure the both of ye are leavin’?”

Maggie lowered her brows. There was something about the woman she just didn’t trust. “Why wouldn’t we?”

“Oh, no particular reason, really.” She ran her hand along the windowsill with an air of nonchalance. “He’d implied he was going to stay a wee bit longer, is all.”

It was obvious she was gauging Maggie’s response, and Maggie was determined not to show even the slightest reaction. That was mighty hard to do when one’s heart was sinking. “Whatever could he have said to give you that impression?”

“He dinna come out with it bluntly, ye see,” the woman began, slowly circling her like a vulture. “Yer husband is a subtle one, aye?”

Nay. I’ve never known MacKay to be subtle. “Are you certain you spoke with my husband?”

“Och, aye!” She narrowed her eyes and, for the briefest of moments, she looked like Maggie’s mum. Perhaps it was the condescending tone that accompanied the expression on her face. “Odd. I havena seen hide nor hair of him since he went around the barn. Are ye sure he’s fetching yer horse?”

Maggie cast a glance over her shoulder at the desolate stable yard. “I’m sure he’ll be back any moment.”

She twisted her lips as if trying to dispense of a grin. “I’m curious, Mrs. MacKay, did ye sleep well last eve?”

Though she knew it wasn’t wise to continue their conversation, she answered the question automatically. “I did.”

“Even as a new bride, ye ken that ye must see to yer husband’s needs, aye?”

The wicked smile on her face took Maggie aback. Surely she’s not referring to…

“There are always others—with more experience, mind ye—that are willing to see to him in yer absence.”

Maggie’s mouth was agape. Though she wasn’t sure of it herself, she was quick to reply, “He wouldn’t try to find his pleasure elsewhere, if that’s what you’re implying.”

The woman shook her head in mock pity. “Ye are a naïve one, aren’t ye?”

Maggie couldn’t utter a response. The witch knew how to get the best of her.

“If ye dunna cater to his every whim, he willna come to ye anymore. Sure as there’s grass in the meadow, he’ll cast ye aside. Ye’ll look back and see how different he acts now, how he cherishes ye between the others.”

Maggie gasped at the woman’s audacity. “What others? And what makes you think he’ll cast me aside?” She chided herself for falling into her trap.

The vulture circled her, poking at her with even sharper words. “He’s only with ye because ye’re fresh. On the morrow he’ll throw ye away like soured pudding.”

Margaret could feel the pulse beating in her neck. “And how would you know?”

The harpy took a bony finger and ran it along Maggie’s cheekbone. Maggie jerked away from the woman’s touch, offended by the intimacy to which it alluded. “He told me so last night.”

Margaret’s mouth went dry. “When? At the card table?”

The image of her smirk was permanently emblazoned in Maggie’s memory. “Before he came to yer bed, he paid a visit to mine.”

If lightning had struck her, she’d have suffered less of a blow. She backed away from her assailant, repelled by her words. It wasn’t true. Even Alex wouldn’t be so callous as to bed another woman shortly before taking her virginity. He was a rogue, but he wasn’t heartless.

Was he?

Maggie clutched at the splintered railing as her backside met it. Her trembling legs welcomed the additional support. “I don’t believe you.” Her words sounded weak, lifeless.

“Ask him, then. Ask if he met me at the door down the hall from yours.” Offering the challenge gave her eyes an eerie sparkle. “Even if he denies it, ye’ll see it in his face, no? Ask him what I was wearin’ at the time.”

Maggie couldn’t back away any farther. The woman advanced upon her like an animal. “Yer man has a thick cock, aye? Nice and hard, that one.”

Perhaps Maggie had been taken for a fool, but surely the woman before her was an imbecile.

Maggie balled up her fist and unleashed her fury, her knuckles contacting the meaty flesh of the woman’s eye before she could even blink. The satisfaction that accompanied the thwack, despite the gripping pain in her fingers, made it well worth the effort as the harpy fell over backward.

“I will not tolerate you speaking of my husband that way,” Maggie apprised her through clenched teeth.

The commotion brought forth the innkeeper’s wife and a serving maid, one of whom let out a God-awful screech when they saw the figure sprawled out on the porch. Maggie shook her hand to dispel the pain.

“She hit me!” the woman bleated as she cradled the side of her face. “Fetch me a rag, Millie, I’m bleeding!”

The maid went to secure water and cloth while the innkeeper’s wife helped her to her feet. Maggie felt like a child who’d been caught stealing a tea cake from the kitchen and waited for the scorn that was sure to follow.

Much to Maggie’s surprise, the innkeeper’s wife grinned when the harpy wasn’t looking. Perhaps Maggie wasn’t the only one who didn’t care for the woman. Deeming it best to remove herself before she could cause any more of a ruckus, Maggie twirled toward the steps and slammed into Alex’s broad form.

“What in the devil happened here?” he questioned, his eyes darting from her to the women on the porch.

With the adrenaline still coursing through her veins and the woman’s hurtful insinuations echoing in her head, Maggie pushed at his chest. “Perhaps if you’d been here instead of seeking another maiden to plunder, you’d have known what happened!”

Without waiting for his response, she stomped her way down the steps and into the muddy yard.

“To hell with both of you,” she muttered.

 

Ian joined him on the top step. “What happened?”

Alexander shook his head as he watched Paul’s wife throw a fit. “I haven’t any notion.”

“Yer charming little wife just hit me,” she screeched, “that’s what!”

He’d gathered that much. “What for?”

The woman stomped her foot. “How should I know? Go ask her yerself!” With the hand that wasn’t holding a wet rag to her eye, she shooed them. “Be gone, the both of ye. There’s nothin’ left to see.” She turned on her heels and disappeared inside the inn, the cacophony of insults trailing away into silence.

“There’s no need to delay any further, then.” Even if he had gleaned more information from Paul’s wife, it wasn’t likely he’d believe her. That one was nothing but trouble. “Where did Maggie go?”

Ian nodded toward the stable.

By the time he caught up to Maggie, her boots were coated in fresh mud and straw. “Are ye hurt? Did she hit ye?”

“Nay!” She swiped at her face with the back of her sleeve and glared at him. He reached out to touch her but she pulled away. “Don’t so much as lay a finger on me, MacKay.”

Ian’s eyes widened. He let out a low whistle and dismissed himself to the yard.

Alex retracted his hand. “Do ye care to enlighten me as to what happened back there?”

The fire in her eyes could have burned a thousand acres. “Do you take me for a fool, Alex?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Of course not. Will ye stop speakin’ in circles, woman, and tell me what is ailin’ ye?”

She opened her mouth and closed it without speaking. With a shake of her head, she walked out of the stable. “I want to leave. Now.”