“Edan. Oh, God in heaven, Edan!” Merritt raced across the clearing to kneel beside her brother’s collapsed form.
“Are you hurt, lad?” Shaw asked tenderly as he knelt and cradled the boy in his arms.
“Nay. I was... overwhelmed,” Edan whispered. “Did you see?” He suddenly brightened as the realization dawned anew. “I was standing.”
“Aye.”
“Without anyone’s aid.”
Merritt and Shaw smiled at each other over his head.
“I am sorry about their leader,” he said to Shaw.
“Lysander? What are you sorry about, lad?”
“I could have stopped him with my dirk. Instead, I allowed him to escape. But I was forced to choose between stopping him and saving you. And even the hatred I feel for that villain was not as strong as the love I feel for you, Shaw Campbell.”
Shaw had to swallow the lump in his throat before he murmured, “Would that love could always be stronger than hate.” He gave the lad a gentle smile. “Do not fret about the tasks left undone. There will be another day to tend to them. This night you proved yourself to be a noble Highland warrior.”
“Am I truly?’’
“Aye.” Shaw saw the way the lad struggled against his weariness. “You have earned the right to rest now, Edan. We will make our camp here, and you and your sister will sleep until the morrow.”
“And you?” Merritt asked.
“I will keep watch. And pray that Lysander attempts to return. For I would relish the chance to exact vengeance for his cruel deeds.”
With great tenderness he wrapped Edan in his cloak and laid him near the fire.
Kneeling beside her brother’s sleeping form, Merritt whispered, “Edan can stand. Praise heaven, he can stand. Do you think it is wrong of me to believe that he might also one day walk?”
“Nay, my lady. For now that I have seen, I, too, believe that he will walk.”
He drew a fur robe around Merritt. The sight of her torn tunic and shirt, and the bruises at her throat, had his eyes darkening with temper.
Seeing his fierce look, she murmured, “Your twin does not know you as I do. He thinks himself a warrior. But tonight I saw the bravest Highland warrior of all.”
Shaw’s voice was a fierce whisper. “When I saw Lysander’s hands upon you, I fell into such a black rage, I have little recollection of anything except the need to rescue you from those brutes.”
“Hush. It is over, thanks to your courage.”
“And yours, my lady.”
She touched a hand to his arm and felt the sticky warmth of his blood. “You are wounded, Campbell. Let me cleanse and bind it.”
Oh, the touch of her. It sent a fire raging through his loins that had him burning with need.
“Nay.” He pulled away roughly and got to his feet. “Take your rest, my lady, while I retrieve the horses, for they have been caused enough discomfort.”
She watched his lithe, pantherlike movements as he stormed away from her. Almost as though, she thought, he were an angry, stalking beast and she a trap that had been set to ensnare him.
When he’d been swallowed up by the surrounding forest, she drew the fur around her. Huddled deep in the folds, she turned to study her little brother, who slept as peacefully as if he were in his own pallet. If truth be told, he had not slept this peacefully in all the years since the attack upon their family.
She whispered a fervent prayer that all their troubles were over. Perhaps now that Lysander had lost his band of villains, he would let go of this hatred against her family.
Studying the flickering flames of the fire, she listened to the quiet, peaceful sounds of the forest. She felt no weariness, only a strange sense of hushed expectancy. As though something rare and wonderful were about to occur in her life.
~ ~ ~
With a fur around his shoulders, and his tunic and shirt removed, Shaw leaned his back against a boulder and struggled to tie a strip of linen around his arm, to stem the flow of blood. His sword and dirk lay in the grass beside him. Nearby the horses were tethered.
The fire had burned low; glowing embers shone in the dark of the night.
Hearing the rustle of footsteps, he looked up to see Merritt approaching.
She frowned and dropped to her knees beside him. “Why did you not ask me to help you with this?”
“I... thought you were sleeping.”
“Do you know you are not a good liar, Campbell?” Without waiting for a reply, she took the linen from him and began to tie it around his arm.
As she did, her hair swirled forward and he had to close his eyes against the sudden desire to twine his fingers in it.
“Does this hurt?” Her fingertips moved over his arm, across his shoulder, filling him with a need so deep, so sharp, he caught his breath.
“Nay.” He leaned back, breathing in the woman scent of her.
“And this?” She shocked him by pressing closer, spreading her hands to roam across his naked chest.
At once his eyes blinked open. His voice was a low growl. “Do not play games with me, my lady. Return to your brother’s side, where you will be safe.”
She smiled at him. “Does that mean I am not safe here?”
“That is exactly what I mean.”
“Ah.” Her smile grew. Boldly she touched her lips to his. “As you may have noticed, Campbell, I thrive on danger.”
His hands gripped her shoulders painfully as he knelt and started to push her away. “This is not a game. And I am not some village lad who can be teased by the lady of the manor.’’
Her voice lowered. “I do not tease.”
“Nay?” His eyes narrowed. “Then what is this?”
“It is what I feel for you, Shaw Campbell.”
“I know what it is you feel. Gratitude for saving your brother.”
“Aye. Gratitude. And... more.”
His voice roughened with emotion. “Do not let your heart rule your head, my lady. On the morrow, when you have returned safely to your father’s house, you will regret what you say and do here.”
“Do you believe that? Have you no heart, Shaw Campbell? Can you not see the love that is shining in my eyes?”
A little thrill shot through him and still he struggled to resist. His voice grew stern. “Leave me now. If you are testing me, you are being cruel, for I am quickly losing my honor. If truth be told, I am losing my pride, as well, my lady.” He would beg, he would crawl, to take what she offered.
When he tried to push her away she cried, “Aye, I have cast aside my pride, as well. I have ne’er felt for any man the things I feel for you. I want to lie with you, Shaw Campbell. And hold you. And love you.” Her eyes filled with unexpected tears, and she blinked in vain, hoping to stem the flow. “I will ask nothing of you. But now, for tonight, let me show you the depth of my feelings.”
She heard his quick intake of breath. “God in heaven, what am I to do with you?” He drew her roughly into his arms, his hands bruising in their intensity. “I have tried for so long now to be strong.” Against her temple he murmured, “I thought I could resist you. But I cannot. I cannot.”
His mouth savaged hers and he kissed her with a passion, a thoroughness that left them both gasping. Almost at once, as if regretting his lapse, his touch gentled as did his kiss. “On the morrow,” he murmured against her lips, “you will turn away from me, and wish you could be as you are at this moment. Innocent. Untouched. Unspoiled.”
“Nay,” she whispered between kisses. “This is all I desire. You are all I desire, Shaw Campbell.”
He could feel the heat building, and still he held her a little away, gazing deeply into her eyes. “If it is so, then let me... let me fill myself with you, Merritt.”
Her eyes widened. It was the first time he had ever spoken her name. Always before he had avoided it, as though by saying it, he would somehow acknowledge that she was special.
“Say it again,” she whispered.
“What?”
“My name.”
“Merritt. Merritt.” He ran nibbling kisses across her cheek, along her temple, over her closed eyelids. And with each kiss he chanted her name. “Merritt. Merritt.” It was a litany of love that he knew he would hear in his mind for a lifetime.
His mouth moved over hers, slowly, deliberately, until hers parted for him. His tongue met hers, teasing, tempting, until she sighed and gave herself up to the pleasure of his kisses.
His lips skimmed over the line of her jaw, across her cheek to her ear, where his tongue traced the soft curve, before darting inside to send her pulse racing. When he tugged on her lobe, she shivered and moved in his arms. He ran a trail of hot, moist kisses down her throat, then froze, remembering her bruises.
“When I think of that brute choking you, hurting you...”
“Shh.” She touched a finger to his lips. “We will not speak of it now, love.”
Love. The word sent his heart soaring. “Oh, Merritt. Merritt.” With exquisite tenderness he touched his lips to her throat, then pressed a line of kisses across her shoulders.
When she swayed in his arms he lowered her to the fur robe and murmured, “Even now I would not hold you if you desire to flee from me.”
At the dangerous look in his eyes she felt her breath hitch in her throat. She touched a hand to his chest. His heartbeat was as unsteady as her own.
“I could not leave you, Shaw Campbell.” She twined her arms around his neck and drew his head down for another kiss.
“Nor could I make you go, Merritt Lamont.” The words were spoken inside her mouth as he covered her lips with his.
The moon was a golden crescent hanging low in the midnight sky. A million tiny diamonds winked their light against the darkened backdrop.
The breeze had grown still, as though even the very air held its breath. The rush of a nearby waterfall added to the symphony of insects and forest creatures who lent their voices to the night.
Consumed with heat, Shaw struggled to hold his own needs at bay, cautioning himself to go slowly, in order to make this first time as pleasurable as possible for Merritt. It was, after all, the only thing he could give her.
With exquisite tenderness he undressed her. His hands skimmed her shoulders, sliding the torn tunic and shirt from her. His fingers fumbled with the ribbons of her chemise until it parted and slid from her shoulders. In the dim light of the fire he studied the way she looked, naked and vulnerable.
“Oh, Merritt, you are so beautiful.” His work-roughened fingertips felt wonderful as they glided over her flesh. His hands were strong, his touch tender, patient. He was soothing her, she knew. And leading her. But she was already willing to follow without question.
He kissed her with a gentleness, a reverence that had her pulse racing. With lips and tongue and fingertips he explored her face, her throat, the sensitive hollow between her neck and shoulder. And with each brush of his lips he felt her body grow more tense, her breathing grow more shallow.
He would not dwell on the future, though it loomed, empty and endless. For now, for tonight, there was only Merritt. Her arms, her lips, her body and the pleasure he could give her. For now, she was all that mattered.
As her blood heated and her body throbbed with need, Merritt felt the fire seep through her veins. The dangers that lurked beyond the circle of firelight were forgotten. As was the future. She would not think about what her life would be like when Shaw left. For now, all that mattered was this man, this moment.
Locked in his embrace, she felt enveloped in a cocoon of pleasure. His kiss, his touch, his caress eased her tension and calmed whatever fears remained. With whispered love words and gentle sighs he led her, always allowing her to set her own pace.
Trust. As he deepened his kiss she realized that she had complete trust in this gentle Highland warrior. He would not take her where she did not wish to go.
Shaw felt the subtle change in her and thrilled to it. It was not surrender. A firebrand like Merritt would never simply surrender her will. What drove her was passion. A passion that had long slumbered within her. And now that he had awakened it, he could taste it on her lips, feel it in the press of her body to his. Hot and wild and free of restraint.
With unexpected tenderness he skimmed his hands across her rib cage, then lower, to find the fasteners of the breeches she wore.
“I will forever praise the stable lad who loaned you these,” he muttered with a low chuckle. “For I find them far more erotic than any feminine frill.”
As he tugged them loose, he shocked her by pressing his lips to the flat planes of her stomach. “Far more erotic, my lady,” he whispered as his lips moved lower.
She had never known such feelings. Like a slave to her newly discovered passion, all she could do was give in to the rapture brought about by his hands and lips. Her fists clutched at the fur robe beneath her as she gasped and reached an unexpected peak of pleasure. She could wait no longer to be joined with him.
Shaw felt his heart thundering as she reached for the fasteners at his waist. When his clothes joined hers, she knelt up, skimming her lips across his chest, until she was facing him.
With his hands on either side of her face, he studied her in the light of the fire. Passion darkened her eyes. They smoldered with an intensity that excited him.
Tangling his hands in her hair, he bent her head back and savaged her mouth with his. At once she sensed the change in him, and felt a thread of alarm. Gone was the gentleness, the tenderness. In its place were wild, primitive needs that struggled for expression.
Her alarm gave way to comprehension. For the first time she understood why, for all this time, he had held himself aloof. There was, carefully hidden behind a man of books and letters, another, more carnal creature. For the first time she glimpsed the dark side to her gentle warrior. This was the shadowy world of passion, of desire, that could make a man desperate.
The unleashing of his deepest needs released her own, as well. It excited her to know that they were about to taste the forbidden fruit that, once shared, would leave them forever changed.
With a boldness that surprised her, she brought her lips across his shoulder to his hair-roughened chest. At his low moan of pleasure, she grew even bolder, and with lips and tongue and fingertips she began to explore his body as he had explored hers.
Shaw’s body was alive with need. It had been a tremendous struggle to go slowly, to allow her to set the pace. But now that her passion had been unleashed, he was free to give her so much more. It was no longer enough to satisfy her, to make this first time pleasurable. He would make this night a celebration that would last them through all the lonely, empty nights that stretched out endlessly before them.
For this night, there was no past, no future. There was only now. This moment. And this woman, who had brought him to the edge of insanity.
With his needs quickly building, he laid her down and brought his lips to her breast, nibbling, suckling her, until the nipple hardened. He moved to the other, feasting on her breast until she writhed beneath him and moaned with pleasure. Her hands fisted in the fur, and she arched toward him, but still he held back, unwilling to give her the release she sought. With lips and tongue and fingertips he moved over her, drawing out every sensual pleasure.
The wind sighed in the trees, but it could not cool their overheated flesh. Heat rose between them, around them, filling their lungs, dampening their skin with sheen.
Merritt was beyond thought. Now there was only Shaw. He tasted dark and dangerous, like his rugged Highland forests. She inhaled the musky male scent of him, mingled with the scents of evergreen and horses. The touch of his fingers against her skin was more heavenly than the finest cloth spun from her loom.
She trembled and strained as he slid along her body, moist flesh to moist flesh.
He struggled to hold back, to savor the moment. But he felt her stiffen as he moved his lips down her body.
At the exquisite pleasure bordering on pain, she cried out as she reached the first crest. He gave her no time to recover as he brought his lips back to hers. She whispered his name as he entered her. It didn’t seem possible to want more, but she did. She wanted all.
This deeper arousal startled them both. Her eyes opened wide, focusing on his, as she wrapped herself around him.
He filled himself with her, with the clean, fresh taste of her, which he knew would linger forever on his tongue. Her special fragrance, the scent of heather and evergreen, would always remind him of her.
He knew that in the long, joyless nights to come, he would examine this memory from among his heart’s treasures and be warmed by it.
Needs clawed at him, desperate for release. He whispered her name as his lips closed over hers and he slipped beyond the edge of sanity.
And then she was moving with him, racing toward a distant light. Their bodies trembled and shuddered, and still they soared until at last they broke free and drifted among a million bright stars.
~ ~ ~
They lay, still joined, their breathing shallow. Shaw pressed his lips to Merritt’s forehead. “I am too heavy for you.”
“Nay.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, unwilling to move, lest it break the spell.
They lay in silence as their breathing slowly returned to normal. At last she gathered her courage.
“Is it always like this?” she asked.
He levered himself on his elbows to kiss the tip of her nose. “Like what?”
“So... wondrous. Like a glimpse of heaven.”
“Ah.” He smiled, loving her description. “I know not. I know only that I, too, glimpsed heaven in your arms.”
She smiled, then her eyes snapped open in surprise. “You know not? What does that mean? Have you... ne’er loved a woman before?”
“You are the only one,” he said, touching his lips lightly to hers. The first, the last, the only, his heart promised.
“Truly?” She lay very still, absorbing the shock of his admission. For some strange reason her heart had begun a wild dance of joy inside her chest. Could it be that this strong, brave warrior could hold no other woman up for comparison? In his heart were there no lingering memories of another? But he had said as much, and he had no reason to speak a falsehood.
She felt a thrill unlike any she had ever known. “But you were so... skilled.”
“Thank you, my lady. As were you.” He chuckled, and the warmth of it wrapped itself around her heart.
He rolled to one side and drew her into the circle of his arms, folding the fur around them both to stave off the night air. “Perhaps it is like eating,” he murmured against her lips. “When one is hungry enough, it requires little skill to satisfy.” He traced a finger across her shoulder, then gathered her hair in one hand and bent his lips to her neck. “But then,” he murmured against her delicate flesh, “after such a fine, satisfying meal, the mind begins to ponder... fruit tarts and fine pastries.”
How was it possible that he could want her again so soon? But the touch of her skin, the taste of her lips, had him fully aroused.
He moved his mouth lower, to the soft swell of her breast. “I should warn you, I do love... fruit tarts and fine pastries.”
“As do I,” she whispered.
Her laughter turned into a gasp as he trailed his lips over the length of her body, and then began working his way back up.
Her eyes darkened with passion. Her arousal was instantaneous. But this time, as they came together, there was no fire and flash. Instead, there was slow heat and the easy knowledge that they had all the time in the world. They slipped into a kingdom of whispered promises and sensuous delights. A realm of dark passion and primitive needs. A place where only lovers can dwell.