Chapter 26
Megan wound her arms around Ryder’s shoulders a little tighter, resting her forehead against his chest. She had thought, briefly, about insisting that he put her on her feet.
Word would go around the Keep that Ryder had been seen carrying her off in such a fashion.
Of course, since they all thought the betrothal was real, the guests would only exchange smiles and look the other way.
Ryder climbed the stairs easily, not weighed down at all by having her in his arms. His arms were strong and even, and Megan realized that she wasn’t afraid of him dropping her, not even a little bit.
A flutter of desire sparked in her stomach. It was hardly the right time for that, considering that Alaina and Hamish were probably still running around the Keep, terrified, convinced that Logan was pursuing them.
Ryder stopped on the landing to his room, transferring her weight entirely to one arm so that he could fish the key out of his pocket.
Then, they were inside, the cool darkness of his room washing over them.
Ryder shut the door with his heel, marched over to the bed, and carefully deposited Megan on it.
“Sit still for a moment,” he murmured, with something so soft in his eyes that Megan had to look away. “I’ll get a fire goin’ and light some candles. There’s wine around here somewhere, too.”
She curled up on the bed, watching him bustle around the room.
His plaid had come loose, and he dropped it from where it hung around his shoulder to loop around his waist. He crouched down, taking very few minutes to get a fire started.
He lit a single candle from the flame and set it on the mantelpiece.
Then he pounced on a jug of wine and a single goblet, pausing only to snatch up a small box from inside a trunk.
“Pour yerself some wine,” he said, handing her the goblet and jug. “I’ll clean the blood from yer throat and see if it needs stitches. I daenae think it will, but it’ll nae hurt to check.”
Megan nodded, swallowing. He dampened a rag in the washbasin and gently trailed it over her throat. The water was cold, sparking goosebumps on her skin. There was no pain when the rag was dabbed over the cut, but Megan shivered anyway.
“It might scar after all,” he observed, frowning.
“That does nae matter,” Megan managed. He knelt on the bed beside her, so close that she could feel the heat coming off his body. “All that matters is that Alaina is safe, and the danger is over. But, Ryder, how… how are ye?”
He barely glanced up from his work. Once her throat was clear of blood, he sprinkled a few drops of something sharp-smelling on a piece of wool, dabbing the stinging mixture over the cut.
“Me? I am well. Why?”
“Well, it was a shock. Logan being behind it all…” She trailed off, shaking her head.
Ryder swallowed thickly. He glanced up at her again, more intently this time. His eyes seemed to fix her to the spot, sending a jolt of desire through her.
I want him again. How can it be that I want him after all of this?
“I daenae want to talk about it now,” Ryder said levelly. “Later. But nae now.”
She nodded slowly. “I understand.”
“Are ye hurt anywhere else? This cut willnae need stitches. We’ll watch it to make sure an infection doesnae set in, but it should heal well.”
“Well, me dress is ruined, and me pride is hurt,” Megan remarked, with a forced laugh. She lifted a hand to the bloodstain dotting her collar. “What a pity. It was expensive.”
Ryder eyed her thoughtfully, his gaze slipping down to the stained garment.
“I suppose,” she continued, her words seeming to come from far away, “now that the danger is over and Alaina is safe, there’s nay more need for me to be here.”
“Ye must miss yer sisters,” he agreed.
“I can pay ye for the dress, by the way.”
His eyes shot up from the bloodstain on the collar to her face.
“Pay me?” he queried.
She’d said the wrong thing, definitely. Megan coughed, glancing away.
“Well, it was such an expensive dress, and now it’s ruined.”
“Well then, ye had best take it off.”
Her eyes widened. She stared at him, unable to form a quick retort.
No, there was no way she’d misheard. Ryder was watching her with a dark, hungry expression, a muscle ticking in his jaw. It was as if he wanted to eat her alive.
“Can I touch ye?” Ryder whispered, so quietly she thought she’d misheard. “I need to… need to be sure that ye are all right.”
She licked her lips briefly, trying to bring some moisture back into her mouth.
“Aye,” she managed. “Aye, ye can touch me.”
He lifted his hand tentatively as if he thought she might run away after all, and slid his palm up the curve of her waist. She let her eyes flutter closed, feeling the heat of his hand.
The warmth slid sideways, following the curve of her ribs, and he tugged at the laces that bound the top part of her dress closed.
“We should take it off,” he repeated, his voice low and even.
Megan swallowed hard. She felt a sting in the cut on her throat, but none of it seemed to matter.
“Aye,” she breathed, voice shuddering. “I think so.”
“Close yer eyes.”
She eyed him for a moment, chewing her lower lip.
“Why?”
He tilted his head, grinning. “Close yer eyes.”
It sounded more like a command this time. Swallowing thickly, Megan obeyed, squeezing her eyes shut. She felt the mattress shift underneath her as he moved closer. Fingers tugged at the laces binding the dress together. She felt them loosen, a knot coming undone, and the bodice sagged.
His warm breath on her cheek was the only warning she had before Ryder kissed her.
His lips were soft, tasting of salt and of wine.
His fingertips skimmed across the bare skin of her back.
The neckline of the dress, already designed to skim her shoulders, slumped forward, baring them entirely.
Her breath caught in her throat, cool air tickling her newly bared skin.
Ryder’s lips pressed against the tip of one of her shoulders.
His fingers left her back, following the curve of the neckline, pulling it down and forward until almost all of Megan’s breasts were exposed, all but her nipples.
She’d never worn a dress that did that. Goosebumps broke over the soft skin there, and Ryder chased them with his fingertips, gently and almost reverently.
“Can… can I open me eyes yet?” she whispered, hearing a catch in her own voice.
His breath ghosted across the swell of one breast. He chuckled low in his throat, and the sensation made her shiver.
“Nay, nae yet, lassie. Lie back.”
One of his hands moved up to the back of her neck, supporting her as she leaned backward, sprawled out on top of the tangled blankets.
Her eyes flickered under her lids, trying in vain to see something beyond the shift of light.
He kissed her again, almost absently, the tip of his tongue darting out to touch hers, almost like a hasty caress, before pulling back.
She heard the crumpling sound of her dress being lifted and pushed aside long before she felt the rush of cool air on her bare legs.
She imagined that he would kiss her there again.
Perhaps they would go further this time.
The kiss, as she’d thought of their first encounter, was not something that would result in a baby.
And Ryder hadn’t even done anything for himself.
Perhaps this time would be different. Perhaps…
She gasped aloud, and the thought died in her mind as he slid two fingers against the join of her legs.
This time, his touch was firmer and more assured, different from when he’d pressed his tongue against her.
He stroked a slow, languid line against her, almost leisurely, and she was sure she heard a chuckle.
He repeated the action, unhurried, until Megan’s back arched in her attempt to push against him. At once, he withdrew his hand, and she nearly wept with frustration.
“Ye seem eager, lass,” he observed, sounding infuriatingly cool. “Better nae open yer eyes before I tell ye.”
“Can I really nae open me eyes?”
“Nay, you may nae. And if ye want any sort of finish, ye had better mind yer manners.”
“Me manners?”
“I believe it is polite to say please when ye want somethin’.”
Megan considered throwing a pillow at his head. She decided against it, screwing up her eyes to avoid the temptation of opening them.
“Please,” she breathed. “Please, Ryder.”
He said nothing for a moment, and she was momentarily afraid that the game was over and that he’d lost interest. Then he gave a low, almost angry growl, deep in his throat. The mattress by her head shifted as he leaned his weight against it and kissed her roughly on the mouth.
Sliding his fingers against her, she sucked in a surprised breath when he put one finger inside her, a strange intrusion that amplified the sensation.
He shifted his hand, a slow, rocking movement that seemed to echo right the way from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet.
He seemed to pull back, just a little, and she could feel his eyes on her face, watching her closely.
Megan tightened her hands in the bedclothes.
She wanted to open her eyes, to watch him watching her, to see the expressions flit over his face.
She wanted to glance down and watch his hand moving between her legs.
He began to speed up, slick fingers sliding against her, and as the pleasure built up inside her, Megan bit at her lower lip, tasting the faint tang of copper.
“Come on now, lass,” he breathed, his voice cracking. “Are ye going to finish for me now?”
Her climax came quickly, almost taking her by surprise. She fisted her hand in the blankets by her head, and despite her best efforts, her eyes flew open.
Ryder was leaning over her, resting on one elbow to look down into her face. He was flushed, something hot and ravenous in his eyes.
Almost at once, he looked away, carefully withdrawing his hand.
Megan lay where she was for a moment, breathing heavily and trying to regain her composure.
Her thighs were slick, and despite the residual pleasure of her climax, she couldn’t help but feel that something was missing.
What was it? What else could she possibly need?
Ryder climbed out of bed and poured himself a goblet of wine. Megan didn’t even remember putting the jug of wine aside, but there it was. He drank the wine in one deep swallow.
“Well,” Megan managed, when she trusted her voice enough to speak. “That was a fine goodbye.”
Ryder chuckled dryly. “I’m good at goodbyes.”
The silence stretched out again, with Megan aware of her own ragged breathing.
Why is he actin’ so strangely, so distant?
“Unless,” she hazarded, licking her lips, “it’s nae a goodbye?”
There. She’d said it.
I want to stay. She might as well have shouted those words at him. There was relief in speaking one’s mind, after all.
Ryder didn’t turn to look at her. He poured another goblet of wine.
“It is a goodbye, lass,” he murmured after a moment. “What happens between us is… it’s a game. A way to pass the time. Ye cannae imagine that ye are the first lass to share me bed?”
Her throat tightened. The pleasure from their intimacy had vanished as quickly as if it had never been there at all.
“Well, nay, but…”
Ryder turned to face her, his expression calm and focused.
“I daenae want a bride, Megan. I thought ye understood that. Maybe I have been too… too confusin’. I have bewildered ye, and let ye to believe that I want more from ye than I do. I am sorry for that, but I suppose it’s too late to remedy it. So, I am remedyin’ it now.”
Megan sat up properly, blood pounding in her ears. Her neckline drooped, and she reflexively clapped her hands against the bodice, holding up to cover herself. She had felt so thrilled earlier, with all of that skin exposed. Now, she just felt cold.
“I see,” she managed, shuffling forward to slide off the bed. Her legs had gone to jelly, but she locked them into place from sheer force of will. “Thank ye for clearin’ that up.”
“Do… do ye want me to help ye lace up yer gown?” he offered, not meeting her gaze.
Anger made her vision shiver for a moment.
“Nay, I daenae,” she responded stoutly. “Me room is just below.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “Megan, please. I ken ye are angry at me right now, but truly, it has nothin’ to do with ye. I daenae want a bride. I daenae want to be in love.”
She shouldered past him, heading for the door. If she didn’t get out of that room within a minute, she was going to cry. Megan knew that with a certainty.
“Well,” she shot back, reaching the door, “ye have a strange way of showin’ it. Goodbye, Laird MacCulloch.”
His shoulders sagged. “Megan, please daenae take this the wrong way.”
She bit her lip, trying and failing to meet his eye. He did not seem to want to look at her.
“How am I meant to take it, Ryder?” she asked softly.
When no answer came, she gently shut the door and hurried down to her own room.
She managed to hold back the tears until she was safely inside.