Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
There was no measured approach, no warning in the dark intensity of his gaze. One moment Elspeth stood beside the door with anger still warm in her blood, and the next, his hands were at her waist and his mouth was on hers.
The kiss struck with the force of everything they had left unsaid. She caught the front of his coat, dragging him nearer even as he crowded her backward. The wooden door pressed between her shoulders. Colin’s body surrounded her: hard, heated, and shaking with a need he could no longer disguise.
His mouth moved over hers hungrily. There was nothing polished in it, nothing careful except the hands that avoided the healing wound beneath her ribs even while the rest of him seemed driven beyond patience.
Elspeth opened to him. Colin made a rough sound against her lips. His hands swept over her back, her waist, the curve of her hips, gripping as though he needed proof she was truly there. She pressed herself closer until the last space between them vanished.
Papers scattered when he backed her toward the writing table. Neither noticed. The edge struck the backs of her thighs. Colin lifted her onto it with one swift movement, sending a ledger and several folded letters sliding to the floor.
Elspeth’s skirts spilled over the ink-stained wood. He stood between her knees. For one suspended heartbeat, they only looked at each other.
His breathing was ragged. Her pins had already begun to loosen, dark strands falling around her flushed face. Colin’s gaze moved over her, starving and furious with himself for the hunger.
Then she seized his collar and pulled him back to her.
The kiss deepened at once. His hands found her thighs beneath the heavy folds of her gown, drawing her to the very edge of the table.
Elspeth wrapped her legs around him, holding him there, and the sudden closeness tore a broken breath from both of them.
Colin buried his face against her throat. His mouth moved over the racing pulse beneath her skin, kisses turning rougher as they descended. Elspeth clutched his shoulders, arching toward him when his teeth grazed the tender place below her ear.
The study smelled of leather, smoke, wax, and the faint sharpness of ink. Those were the ordinary scents of Colin’s controlled, disciplined world. Now his maps lay crushed beneath her hand. His chair had been knocked aside. His careful stacks of correspondence covered the floor.
Colin had never seen anything more satisfying.
His mouth returned to hers. He felt the desperation in her now, stripped of every defense. Colin kissed her as if he had spent too long believing she could be taken from him, as if every touch were both reunion and argument.
His hand moved over her side. The instant his fingers neared her wound, his urgency faltered. He drew back enough to look at her. Concern cut through the heat in his face. Elspeth answered by catching his wrist and placing his palm safely above the tender place.
She did not need words. Colin understood.
His forehead dropped briefly to hers, breath shaking between them. Then his hand curved around her waist, supporting rather than pressing, and the raw hunger returned.
He bent her backward over the table. One arm remained behind her shoulders, shielding her from the hard wood. The other gathered her skirts, impatient fabric rustling beneath his hand. Elspeth’s hair spilled over the abandoned papers, catching in the corners of maps and sealing wax.
Colin looked down at her. The sight undid him.
His wife stretched across the table where he planned battles, settled disputes, and wrote orders that made other men obey. Nothing in the room obeyed him now, least of all Elspeth. And he liked it like that.
She reached for him. His control broke.
Colin came over her, his mouth finding hers with bruising need. The table shifted beneath them. An ink bottle overturned somewhere near her shoulder, rolling harmlessly before dropping to the rug.
Her palms moved across his back, and Colin felt the betraying tremor that passed through his muscles each time she pulled him nearer. He tried to master it. He had mastered pain, anger, exhaustion, and fear often enough. Her touch undid him more efficiently than any of them.
His breath broke against her cheek. This was no longer desire alone.
He needed her.
The truth of it ran beneath every hurried kiss and desperate grasp.
He had almost lost her. Robert had placed a blade against the one life Colin could not surrender, and since taking her back, some part of him had remained trapped in that ruined chapel, still watching her stand within another man’s reach.
Her mouth softened beneath his. Her breath mingled with his. The noise in his mind quieted until only the woman beneath him remained, holding him as though she understood every fear he lacked the courage to speak.
Then impatience seized them again. Colin lifted her upright. She clung to him as he dragged her against his chest, her skirts tangled between their bodies and his coat hanging open beneath her restless hands.
The table creaked beneath them. Footsteps passed somewhere along the corridor. Colin went still only long enough to listen. They faded.
He looked at Elspeth. Her pulse fluttered visibly beneath the skin of her throat. Excitement brightened her eyes, but there was no hesitation in them.
He could have stopped.
He should have stopped.
The question must have shown upon his face, because Elspeth answered without words. Her fingers tightened in his hair, and she pulled him closer.
The last of his restraint vanished. Colin kissed her with all the fierceness he had attempted to contain. She met him without fear, yielding nothing, demanding everything. Her hands remained tangled in his hair, holding him to her as though she would not permit him to retreat behind caution again.
He adjusted himself between her legs and slid inside of her effortlessly, watching the moment of claiming seize her completely. She gasped loudly, gripping at him, as if he might disappear if she did not hold on tightly.
Keeping her up with his hands, he claimed her with each thrust, feeling the wet warmth of her desire mirroring his own. Her moans mingled with the sounds of their unison, and all he could do was relinquish control of himself and his body to this woman who had become everything to him.
When at last they went still, Elspeth remained seated among the wreckage of his carefully ordered table. Her arms encircled his neck, and her forehead rested against his.
Colin kept both hands at her waist. One lay gently beside the wound beneath her ribs, guarding it by instinct. The other held her with more force than tenderness required, confessing what he could not yet shape into words.
Papers covered the floor. Books lay displaced. A bottle of ink rested upon its side, its contents creeping slowly across an unfinished letter.
The study had once belonged entirely to duty. Now it bore evidence of her everywhere.
Usually, disorder demanded correction. He would gather every paper, restore every book, and rebuild the disciplined shape of the room before allowing another man to see it.
This time, he did nothing. Colin drew her closer and buried his face against her neck. He breathed in the warmth of her skin and held her as though need had stripped away every defense he possessed, leaving only one truth behind.
She was alive and she was in his arms.
The courtyard had become a confusion of horses, voices, and badly supervised luggage. Men called across one another while servants carried saddlebags, blankets, food, and enough weapons to suggest Niall and Domhnall intended to conquer half the Highlands on their journeys home.
Elspeth stood beside Margaret near the steps.
“I wish ye didnae have tae leave,” Elspeth admitted.
Margaret took both her hands. “Nor dae I. But Domhnall must gather men, and I have learned that allowing him tae travel alone encourages poor decisions.”
“I thought that was Niall’s influence.”
“It is shared generously among them.”
Elspeth smiled, though sadness tightened her throat.
Their friendship had formed with such ease that it felt older than a few days.
Margaret understood the loneliness of being married into a clan, the fear hidden beneath a husband’s command, and the strange work of making a place where none had been prepared for you.
“Ye will write?” Elspeth asked.
“Often enough tae inconvenience every messenger between our castles.”
They embraced warmly. Beyond Margaret’s shoulder, Colin stood with Niall and Domhnall beside the horses. He was listening to Domhnall speak, but his gaze moved across the courtyard and found Elspeth.
It lingered. She lifted one brow. His mouth nearly curved before Niall struck his shoulder and demanded his attention.
Elspeth felt warmth spread through her.
He loved her.
The knowledge remained new enough to startle her each time it returned.
A servant approached from behind. “Me lady?”
Elspeth turned. The young man wore a plain brown coat and kept his eyes lowered.
“Ye are needed in the kitchens.”
“Fer what?”
“Something has gone wrong with the provisions for the riders. The cook asked fer ye.”
Elspeth sighed. “Of course she did.”
Margaret smiled. “Go. Before Niall discovers he has been given insufficient pies and declares war.”
Elspeth squeezed her hand once more, then followed the servant into the keep.
The halls were crowded. Men carried crates toward the courtyard. Maids rushed between chambers with folded linens. No one paid attention as Elspeth passed. The servant moved quickly.
“Slow down,” she called.
He did not answer. They turned away from the main stair and entered the narrow passage leading toward the older kitchens. The noise behind them faded.
Elspeth slowed. “This isnae the way.”
The servant continued around the corner.
“Stop.”
He disappeared. Elspeth’s unease sharpened. She turned back and at that moment, a hand seized her from behind. Elspeth drove her heel downward and threw her head back. Bone struck bone. A man cursed as his grip loosened.
She twisted free and reached for the small knife hidden beneath her sleeve, but then, another figure stepped from the shadow.
Robert Munro.
Recognition struck cold through her. Elspeth drew the blade. He caught her wrist before she could strike. She kicked him hard in the knee, but a second man seized her arms.
Elspeth fought wildly. She bit one hand. She drove her elbow backward. She screamed, but the sound was smothered beneath a rough cloth pressed over her mouth.
Robert watched her struggle.
“So,” he snarled with amusement. “Colin chose a spirited one.”
She tried to reach him again. His fist struck her ribs directly over the healing wound. Pain exploded through her. Her knees failed. Robert caught her by the hair and forced her face upward.
“Dinnae fear, Lady MacKenzie,” he murmured. “I have nay intention of killing ye quickly.”
Elspeth’s blood turned to ice. The cloth tightened over her mouth. Strong arms dragged her toward the servants’ door at the end of the passage.
Outside, horses stamped and men shouted farewells. Somewhere in the crowded courtyard, Colin was still looking for her.
But by the time he understood that she was gone, Robert had already taken her beyond the walls.