My Rebel Highlander Read online

  "I thank you." Sipping, Calla realized 'twas spiced mulled wine. Her favorite.

  The maid curtseyed and left.

  Calla truly did feel sorry for Elena, but there was naught to be done about it. Rebbie had never intended to marry her from the first. The lass would surely learn from this experience and grow stronger as a result.

  After she finished eating, Calla poured herself another goblet of the spiced wine. Elena must have cried herself to sleep for she was now silent and her breathing deep.

  A light knock sounded at the door and Calla carefully opened it, hoping to not wake the girl.

  Angelique waited outside. "Could I speak with you for a few minutes?" she whispered.

  "Aye. Should I dress first?" Calla set the goblet aside.

  "Non, but grab your cloak. The corridors can be chilly."

  What on earth did her friend wish to talk about at this late hour?

  After pulling on her cloak and slippers, she followed Angelique down the corridor toward her rooms. Just outside, she halted and whispered, "Rebbie wishes to speak to you."

  Chapter Sixteen

  Calla gaped at Angelique, standing in the dim corridor. Rebbie wanted to see her this late at night? That could only mean one thing. Calla's heart vaulted into her throat and raced with excitement. "He does?"

  "Oui." Angelique pointed at a door further along.

  Heat rushed over Calla. Obviously, her friend had figured out she and Rebbie had been intimate. Or mayhap Rebbie had told Lachlan, who had then told Angelique. Saints! Was her friend not upset that Calla had kept secrets from her? She had no idea what Angelique even knew of their situation.

  "That is, if you want to speak to him." Angelique smiled.

  Well, indeed, the idea of spending some time alone with him did tempt her. She might have little time left with him if Barclay and his wife decided to leave tomorrow and take Elena home. As Elena's companion, Calla would be obligated to accompany them. Even though Rebbie had said he would take her to see Jamie, she might not get to visit with him after all. In fact, that might be best if Rebbie never set eyes upon her son.

  "Are you well?" Angelique asked with a wee frown. "If you don't wish…."

  "I'm fine." Hiding her anxiety, Calla attempted to give her friend a reassuring smile. "I thank you." She headed toward the door Angelique had indicated and once beside it, turned to glance back at her.

  With an encouraging grin, Angelique nodded.

  Calla lightly tapped her knuckle at the door. A moment later, it opened and Rebbie waited there, a dark form in the candlelight. His hair appeared damp from a bath and he looked mouthwatering.

  "Come in," he murmured, stepping back. When she did, he closed the door. "How is your head?"

  "Better. 'Tis not paining now."

  He took her hand in his warm one and kissed her knuckles, sending shivers up her arms. "Good. I hope you didn't mind that I asked Angelique to relay my message."

  "Nay. What did you tell her?" Calla was still embarrassed that Angelique might know the details of their intimacy.

  "Naught."

  She frowned. "What did you tell Lachlan?"

  Rebbie tensed and glanced away for a few seconds. "Well… Lachlan saw us emerge from the wood that day near Tummel and guessed what we'd been doing. He's canny. I was never able to keep a secret from him."

  "And Lachlan keeps no secrets from Angelique. So they ken everything." Mortification burned through her. How could she ever look her friend in the eye again?

  "Not everything." Rebbie's dark gaze fastened intently upon hers.

  "What don't they know, then?" she challenged.

  "We can trust them," he said calmly. "They're good friends. They'll tell no one else."

  She didn't like the way he'd evaded her question. But at the same time, she felt he was right. She knew Angelique well enough to trust her.

  "I had to see you," Rebbie said. "I broke the betrothal contract."

  "I know. Elena was crying in our room."

  "She's overreacting. We didn't truly even know each other."

  Calla nodded. "She'll recover soon."

  "I couldn't come to your chamber to see you, but I'd hoped to spend some time with you." In the soft, golden light of the fireplace and the lone candle, his gaze burned into her with a spark of the passion they'd shared in the wood that day. "We've had no time alone since we left Tummel Castle."

  "Aye." Suddenly, she missed Tummel, the coziness of the small tower house and the privacy they'd had before his friends and the garrison arrived. Kissing in the garden, making love in the wood. 'Twas like they'd been in a different world—the wild Highlands, away from the towns and cities.

  Rebbie stepped closer, tipped her chin up and stroked his fingers along her cheek. With fathomless eyes, he watched her beneath lowered black lashes. With a simple touch and a look, he could strip away her resistance… not that she'd ever had much where he was concerned. Nay, the first time she'd seen him, she'd set out to seduce him. Though she'd been terrified at the time, it had turned into the most enjoyable task of her life.

  When he leaned down and brushed his lips across hers, she drew in a sharp breath of his delectable scent—clean soap and man—and kissed him back. All the nerve endings in her body tingled and yearned for him. There was no way in hades she could resist him. Her body was so sensitized to his kiss, his touch, she already ached for him.

  The kiss deepened and she opened for him, savoring the spicy, mulled wine flavor of his kiss. Eager for more, she wound her arms around his neck. His moan vibrated against her lips. After tossing aside her cloak, he cupped her derriere in his strong hands, and lifted her against his hard body.

  Oh, heavens. Naught had ever felt better than his body pressed tightly to hers. Mindless in her need for him, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he ground his hard length against her, making her crave him.

  Next thing she knew, they were lying on the bed, his delicious weight pressing into her. She squirmed. "Rebbie," she whispered.

  "Aye, a ghràidh."

  What did that word mean? She knew not, nor did she have time to contemplate it or ask him. He tugged at the lacings on her smock until he'd bared one breast.

  "Mmm." He captured her hard nipple and suckled at it as if famished. Shocks of arousal blasted through her. She locked her leg over his, wishing they were both naked.

  She buried her hands in his damp hair, then kissed his head, inhaling his scent of lavender soap mixed with his own masculine essence.

  Abruptly he drew back. "Sit up and take this off." He tugged at the linen smock and wrap.

  When she did, he tossed them aside, then locked his eyes on her. "Don't move."

  "What?"

  "Sit just like that. I want to look at you." Reverently, his dark gaze trailed down over her naked body and she became aware she sat with her legs spread. Feeling suddenly shy, she tried to press them together.

  He shook his head and crawled over her. "You are a goddess… a Venus. And I want to kiss every inch of you." He pressed his lips to hers, then trailed them down her neck. She lay back, enjoying the shivers that shattered throughout her body in the wake of his lips placing wee kisses along her throat and chest. Slowly and deliberately, he teased her nipples into hard peaks, licking at them, suckling them, cradling her full breasts within his hands.

  Oh, how she wanted him. She gathered his linen shirt into her fists and tugged, needing the wretched garment off him so she could stroke his warm skin and granite muscles.

  After pulling back, he disposed of his clothes, and within seconds returned to lavishing her body with kisses and love bites. She could do naught but arch her back, moan, and demand that he speed up.

  "Rebbie, I want you," she whispered. "Now."

  "Aye, but you must be patient. There's something I want first."

  "What?" Anything. She just wished he would hurry and take her. Not only did she love him, mind, heart and soul, she feared she was addicted to his body and the plea
sure it elicited from her.

  Watching her with those dark and wicked eyes, he flicked his tongue into her navel. She sucked in a hissing breath at that new and unfamiliar sensation. But to her surprise, he moved lower still, pressing his lips to her belly.

  "Rebbie, what are you about? I want—"

  When he kissed her mons, she was shocked speechless. Unable to guess at his intent, she watched as he pushed her legs apart, crawled between and pressed his lips to her most intimate spot.

  A jolt of astonishment and arousal shook her. She gasped. "Rebbie?"

  "Shh."

  Oh heavens! His warm breath against her, heating her skin… and his wet, velvety tongue, stroking. Her back arched and she offered herself for whatever sinful pleasure he wished to indulge her in. He licked and suckled at her in ways she'd never imagined. She couldn't believe it. Was this truly what lovers did in the dark of night? He spread her legs wide and feasted upon her.

  Trying to keep herself from screaming out in pleasure, she buried her face into his pillow.

  That mysterious and devastating ecstasy that only Rebbie could wreak upon her body crashed in upon her suddenly and without warning. She cried out against the pillow, and her body twisted, bowing toward him, seeking more.

  He muttered curses, abruptly rose up onto his knees and joined his body with hers.

  "Aye," she gasped. 'Twas the best feeling in the world, Rebbie driving himself into her, hard and fast.

  After a long moment, he paused deep inside, leaned forward and suckled at her nipples once again. Her muscles squeezed him and he growled.

  Giving her a raw and sensual look, he moved up and kissed her lips. "Calla." Jaw clenched, he looked tormented of a sudden, as if he wanted to say something. But he didn't.

  Looking into her eyes, kissing her, he started moving again, plunging to her depths, until he appeared near mindless. The devastating pleasure claimed her again, and he rode it out like a fierce gale storm. Finally, with a growl, he thrust deep and poured into her.

  ***

  Moments later, Calla pressed her forehead against Rebbie's chest as they rested. She wondered if he'd been about to say something to her, or if she'd only imagined it. She did not know what in blazes she was doing, making love to him. He could easily get her with child again… and then what? The future held too much uncertainty, and she held too little of the power in it.

  He kissed the top of her head, then pulled back to peer into her face, his dark gaze delving. "Are you well?"

  "Aye." She forced a smile.

  "You're thinking too much. You always think too much."

  She shook her head, though she knew he was right.

  "Is there something you would like to tell me?" he asked.

  "Nay." Did he sense she held a secret that would shake him to the core? She was going to have to do a better job of hiding her thoughts and feelings. Rebbie so easily breached her defenses and knocked down the walls she had erected around herself these last few years. His intelligent, midnight eyes could almost see through to her very soul. "Is there something you wish to tell me?" she asked.

  "Aye, stop worrying. All will be well." He kissed her lips, snatching any rational thoughts from her mind. She could never get enough of his hot, delicious mouth. She stroked her hand over his sculpted chest muscles to his ridged abdomen and the narrow trail of dark hair that ran down his stomach and beneath the sheet.

  He breathed out a soft moan.

  Inhaling his appealing masculine scent, she pressed kisses to his chest and ran her tongue over one small, hard nipple.

  "Mmm." He buried his hand in her hair.

  Feeling emboldened by his favorable response, she continued. What would Rebbie like for her to do to him? Considering what he'd treated her to, nothing would shock him. Would he think her a strumpet if she…? Heat rushed over her in a scorching blaze. She should not, but his tempting male scent lured her lower. She flicked her tongue into his navel, just as he had done to her.

  He hissed a sharp breath between his teeth. Glancing up at him, she found him watching her, his eyes almost closed. His face taut with need and his jaw clenched tight.

  He removed his hand from her hair, then latched it onto a turned post of the headboard.

  The hair on his lower abdomen tickled her lips. The muscles beneath tensed. Under the sheet, his shaft moved.

  "Oh, saints, Calla," he whispered. "You're driving me mad."

  She kissed him again, right above the sheet, then smiled up at him.

  "Don't tease me," he said between clenched teeth.

  "Very well." She slowly tugged the sheet down, exposing him. His shaft was at full mast and raring to go. She had caught glimpses of it before, but never truly examined it at close range. 'Twas a most appealing sight that made her want to crawl atop him and have her way with him, but… not yet. Leaning forward, she kissed the tip.

  He growled a Gaelic word she couldn't understand, his muscles hardening like granite.

  "Calla," he breathed in a desperate tone.

  "Aye, m'laird." She glanced up at him with her best innocent look. "What do you wish?"

  He muttered a nonsensical word and squeezed his eyes shut, teeth grinding.

  She'd never seen him more aroused, and she feared he would break the headboard post if his muscles tensed any further.

  She grasped hold of his shaft and kissed the tip again, then licked it.

  He rasped a guttural curse, his body trembling as he watched her with a dark and dangerous gaze.

  She had never done anything like this before, and wondered what else he might enjoy. What she might enjoy. Opening her mouth, she drew the tip inside and marveled at the smooth but velvety texture of him and the sensual taste.

  Suddenly, he grasped her shoulders, pulling her away. "Damnation, I can't take it," he growled, near out of control. He pushed her down onto the bed, spread her legs and thrust into her depths.

  "Aye." She lifted her hips, encouraging him to do what he would. Now holding onto the bed posts herself, she thrust her hips. Her legs hooked over his arms, he went wild, hammering into her. Such erotic rapture that lashed through her, she could hardly fathom. 'Twas a raw passion that eclipsed all reason.

  "Ahh, Rebbie!"

  Seconds later, the pleasure bombarded her, just as he held himself deep within her, shuddering at the peak of his own release. The ecstasy ebbed gradually as her mind came back to her.

  Gasping for breath, he fell to the mattress beside her with a curse. He breathed hard as if he'd just rushed up a mountain. "Saints above! You're trying to annihilate me."

  She giggled. "Aye, m'laird."

  He rolled atop her, captured her wrists and held them above her head. Looking into her eyes, he placed a sweet kiss upon her lips. "You near drove me mad… truly. I've never…" He groaned.

  "Nor have I," she confessed. "You inspire me to do shocking and daring things I've never done before."

  He gave her a roguish grin. "It has always been my pleasure to despoil you, m'lady."

  After slipping her wrist free of his hand, she slapped his arse playfully.

  Rebbie laughed. Moments earlier, he'd felt like he would die if he couldn't have her, then and there. Her mouth on his shaft had done it. He'd never been so aroused in his life. Although he'd wanted her to continue, he couldn't endure the erotic torture without going off like a cannon.

  He lightly smacked her arse in return, then caressed the smooth, soft skin. "Mmm, nice."

  After kissing her, he lay beside her, his head on the pillow, looking into her expressive dark gray eyes, watching her. Secrets still lurked there. How he wished she would open up to him. He wanted to know everything about her.

  But, he was no better, for he hadn't opened up to her. He'd almost told her he loved her, but something refused to allow his tongue to form the words. 'Twas some lack within him, some fear that constricted his throat when he wanted to tell her. He thought it must be love… some strong attachment he'd always felt for her. He
wasn't daft enough to believe he had fallen in love with her in a matter of one night, all those years ago, but 'twas some sort of powerful tenderness he'd experienced in her presence, or anytime he thought about her. Since he'd been with her the past few weeks, his feelings had grown to unthinkable proportions. It could only be love. He should tell her.

  But something held his tongue. Haps 'twas that he didn't trust her completely.

  "I was wondering about something," he said, hoping his question wouldn't upset her too much. He had to know all her secrets.

  "What?" She flicked a wary glance at him, then studied his chest again.

  "The night I first arrived here, what were you doing in the secret passages spying on me?"

  She gasped, her gaze flying to his. "Angelique told you?"

  "Nay. Lachlan tried to get her to tell him. She wouldn't, but after a while, he figured it out. He told me." Rebbie smiled. "But 'twas only after we'd both disappeared and gone to Tummel Castle. They were trying to figure out what happened to you, especially, so they shared all their information."

  Her face reddening, she pressed her eyes closed. "This is mortifying," she muttered and blew out a breath.

  "Nay, don't be ashamed. I just wondered what was going on."

  "Very well, I'll tell you. I had seen you in the village, and in the great hall. I recognized you immediately. I was afraid you'd reveal our past association to everyone. So… I was spying to try to find out what kind of man you are. Most of the men I've known in my life have been vindictive swine."

  "Me included?"

  "Of course not." Her sincere gaze delved into his. "You are a great and honorable man."

  "Well… I thank you, my sweet." He kissed her forehead. "And you are an amazing woman."

  At the door, someone gasped. "You!"

  Rebbie's gaze flew to the open doorway. Lady Elena stood there, her murderous gaze upon Calla.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Startled at hearing Elena's voice in Rebbie's bedchamber, Calla flicked her gaze to the open door.

  Elena gaped. "I should have known, since you were gone from our room!" She disappeared down the corridor.