Chapter 27
Chapter 27
Catrìona paced before the fireplace in her sewing room. Not that she ever did any sewing there. But she’d never had a man there, either—not until Cullen Macauley had come to Kilgorra.
“For heaven’s sake, Cullen, go out there and see what’s happened.” They’d heard a crash and some voices. Clearly, something was going on.
It infuriated her when he rested lazily against the cushions of the settee and watched her. “Why? Unless the keep is on fire—which I doubt very much, since it is made of stone—I don’t see why we should care about a wee, pucklie clatter.”
He swore he’d had naught to do with the fire at the distillery, and Catrìona believed him. Why would he want to destroy the very thing he thought was most valuable on the isle? He intended to expand the whiskey trade and make Kilgorra’s brew the most coveted in all of Britain and France.
She narrowed her eyes at the man. “Cullen ...”
“ ’Twas likely a servant dropping something heavy. Come over here, pet. I’m not through with you.”
“I should go back to my bedchamber,” she said. Without anyone seeing her, of course. Then she could come out as though she’d been there all night, and start asking questions. What if something serious had happened?
“You’d risk someone seeing you?”
Catrìona crossed her arms over her breasts, so very thinly covered by a pretty sark Anna had made her. She would never tell Anna how very much she prized the thing, for it had played a large part in many of her seductions. Catrìona was always very careful never to let any of her men remove it from her body—it was far too delicate, and could easily tear. The garment was nearly transparent and so beautifully made that it tempted every man who’d seen her in it.
She chewed her lip, trying to decide what to do. Would MacMillan leave Kilgorra now that the granary was gone? Suddenly, Cullen did not seem so very appealing. He seemed small and petty compared to Lachann....
“Come now, Catrìona. You know you want to.”
No, this time, the wee wren did not want to.
He got up and pulled her into his arms, nuzzling her neck as he skittered one hand down her back to her buttocks.
“When are you going to tell MacMillan that you’re going to marry me? And not him?”
“You know I have no choice in this, Cullen,” Catrìona said, lying a little, hoping ’twould put him off for now. “ ’Tis really my father’s decision.”
Gesu, but the press of Anna’s bare body against his arousal was as near to heaven as Lachann had been in many a month. He’d come so very close that morn, and his need for her had not abated in the least.
She slid her hands through his hair and held his head in place, and Lachann surrendered his own groan of pleasure.
Next, she would reach beneath his plaid and—
Lachann quickly bent to retrieve the towel cloth he’d removed from her. He wrapped it ’round her and then lifted her into his arms. Pushing open the door, he carried her through it and did not stop until he arrived at his own room. He went inside and set Anna on her feet, then reached behind him to latch the door.
Naught was going to interrupt him this time.
Lachann slid his hand ’round her waist and pulled her close. He pressed his mouth to her throat, then moved lower, removing the toweling cloth as he went. Her lips parted and he moved up to touch his mouth to hers. He slid his tongue inside, deepening the kiss as she leaned into him.
Lachann grazed her flushed skin with the back of his hand, relishing how sweetly soft she was, from her narrow shoulders, down her back, reaching the curve of her hips, then ’round to the peaks of her breasts.
As Lachann’s hands explored, Anna made a quiet sound of pure surrender, grabbing hold of the plaid at his shoulder and shoving it down. He cupped one of her breasts, then bent to lave it with his tongue.
Ach, ’twas the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted.
“Lachann ...” She put her hand on his chest, and when her fingers slid across his nipple, his cock throbbed in anticipation.
He took her to the bed, then lifted her onto it, coming down over her. He felt her tremble, and then her arms went ’round him as her eyes drifted closed. Lachann felt her fingers knife through the hair at his nape as he trailed kisses down her throat and to her breasts.
Naught had ever pleased him so well, except perhaps when he slid one hand down to the crux of her legs and found her moist and ready for him.
“Sweet Anna.”
Lachann was as hard as his claymore, and aching to slide into her. But he wanted so much more. Wanted what they shared to be as incredible for her as he knew ’twould be for him.
Moving down, he skittered kisses across her belly while he traced his fingers ’round her feminine sheath, using his thumb to fondle the sensitive nub at its apex. She let out a startled sound when he put his mouth to the spot and licked.
“Lachann!”
“Aye, love.”
She shuddered, and her breath quickened.
He entered her with one finger while he continued to pleasure her with his tongue. She moaned, and Lachann suddenly felt all her muscles tighten ’round him.
“That’s it, my bonny one. Come for me.”
He heard her breath catch, and then she made a quiet whimper of complete and utter satisfaction.
He shifted his position and came over her again, settling between her thighs. His cock grew impossibly harder as it nestled against her warm cleft, and Lachann groaned with need. “Now, Anna.”
She was so incredibly tight. Lachann entered her slowly, then stopped, feeling nearly mad with need. “Anna.”
She lifted her hips, and suddenly he was fully inside her, inside heaven. “Oh, Lachann ...” She wrapped her arms ’round him and pulled him close.
Lachann closed his eyes against the sudden flood of sensation, then moved against her in a rhythm that she met, stroke for stroke.
The pleasure was deep and intense, and Lachann prolonged it until he felt Anna tighten ’round him once again, crying out softly with pure sensation. “Aye, lass.”
His own climax shuddered through him then, and she moved with him, wreaking every intense drop of pleasure from his body.
Keeping their bodies joined, Lachann propped himself on one forearm and looked down at her while caressing her ear with his other hand. “You are so very beautiful, Anna lass.”
Uncertainty touched her eyes, but Lachann dipped down to kiss her lips.
He rolled to his side, pulling her with him. Unable to get his fill of looking at her, of touching her, he gently caressed her cheek, then her chin. He slipped his arm ’round her waist and drew her flush against his body, relishing the press of her bare skin on his.
They lay together quietly, with only the sound of a sudden rain squall breaking the silence.
Lachann held Anna in his arms long into the night, cocooned in the snug bedchamber while the rain drenched the world ’round them. ’Twas as though not another soul existed on their island.
If only life could have been that simple.
Before dawn, Lachann left Anna sleeping and went to search for Macauley. No one had been able to find him last night after returning to the castle, but the man had to sleep, didn’t he?
Without standing on ceremony, Lachann pushed open Macauley’s bedroom door, prepared to confront him. But the room was empty. And it appeared not to have been slept in. The bed was undisturbed and the fireplace was cold.
Lachann scratched the back of his head, wondering what rock Macauley had climbed under. The bastard was devious, and Lachann should have assumed he’d stay clear of anyone who might accuse him of the fire. Gesu. What other nefarious plans were afoot?
Lachann was afraid he already knew.
With Macauley absent and unavailable for questioning, Lachann looked in on Laird MacDuffie. He needed to make it clear to the laird that he would not wed the man’s daughter.
He stepped quietly into MacDuffie’s bedchamber and found the old man sleeping soundly. His skin was pale, making the gash on his head and Anna’s stitches stand out grotesquely.
Again, Lachann had to wonder if something more ailed the laird than his continuous drunkenness. He’d known many a man who’d died of the jaundice and bloating that went along with too much whiskey, but Lachann detected no yellowness of MacDuffie’s eyes or skin. The old man was as white as a phantom, though, and clearly ailing.
What if he died before naming his heir?
Deciding ’twas pointless to remain in the laird’s bedroom, Lachann went down to the kitchen and found no one else up and about. No one but Anna’s cat.
“You’re looking for your mistress, are you?” he muttered.
The cat mewed.
“Aye. I can understand your affection for the lass.” Lachann’s entire body clenched with pleasure at the thought of her. He’d never known such a fiery woman as his Anna, nor one as passionate and generous. She’d worked hard yesterday alongside the other islanders trying to put out the fire. She needed to rest today, and Lachann would talk to her later—about Kilgorra, about Braemore, about Catrìona.
While the cat wrapped itself ’round Lachann’s legs, he found bread and a piece of cheese for his own breakfast, and he cut a sliver of cheese for the wee creature. Then he tightened his belt and was about to set out for the stable in the rain when Duncan came into the kitchen.
“You’re up early,” Lachann said. “Didn’t you stay late in the village?”
“Aye.” Duncan rubbed a hand over heavy whiskers. “We’re going to start on the new granary this morn. But with all this rain ...”
“Aye. It might be better to wait,” Lachann said. “See what the carpenters say.”
Duncan nodded.
“Macauley was not in his room this morn,” Lachann said. “Everyone needs to keep an eye out for him.”
Duncan let out a low sound of disgust. “I don’t trust the bastard any further than—”
“Aye. He’s up to something, and I have a feeling the granary was just the beginning. If anyone sees him, I want him detained. By force, if necessary.”
Duncan raised his brows.
“In the meantime,” Lachann said, “I want the cannons up and into position today, ready for firing. The island is too vulnerable—especially with the men occupied with rebuilding the granary.”
“That’s a good point, Lachann,” Duncan said. “If a pirate ship came into the harbor ...”
“Aye, the harbor,” Lachann said. “Our most vulnerable point. I’m going up to Roscraig Peak to make my decision on a location for one of the cannons.”
“Aye,” Duncan said as he headed for the stairs. “We’ll meet you there soon.”
“Oh, and Duncan?”
The man stopped and turned.
“I’ve decided not to marry Catrìona MacDuffie,” he said. “Find another way for MacDuffie to make me his heir.”