Page 13 of A Temptress in Tartan

Elizabeth felt the blood drain from her face. “You are not a swine. You are the Devil himself.”

Lachlan grabbed her and wrenched her forward into a crushing embrace. “If that is what you wish me to be, then so be it. I was trying to give you time to adjust to your new position as my wife. But if you will only think of me as a beast or worse, then perhaps I should become just that and take what is rightfully mine.”

She had no time to protest as his mouth claimed hers. His lips were hot and possessive. He gave her only a heartbeat to adjust before he demanded more, probing her lips with his tongue until, on a gasp, she let him in.

He plunged and stroked, sending mindless reverberations through her limbs. Her knees quivered and threatened to give way as his hand came up to twist in the length of her hair, ensuring she could not pull away or avoid his relentless plundering. His other hand moved to the back of her gown and fumbled with the lacings, loosening them enough that he slid his hand inside the fabric of her gown and above her chemise. Her smothered cry was ignored as he splayed his hand against the thin cotton that did little to protect her from his velvet touch.

Her protest became a groan as his roving fingers sent waves of sensation across her flesh. This time her knees did give way, but he held her up, deepening his kiss, teasing her flesh until she could scarcely breathe, scarcely think as waves and waves of glorious delight rippled through her.

He pulled back, but not away. “Shall we stop playing games, Elizabeth? I want this. You want this. Forget who we are and just give in to what you feel.” His lips traced a trail of fire from her lips to the slender arch of her throat and back again.

“Nay,” she gasped. “I cannot take anything from you.” Her mind was fighting the pleasure but her body reveled in his possession as he traced a line of kisses across her chin and neck. She shuddered with raw desire as his lips trailed across her hungry flesh. Everywhere he touched, she burned and longed for more, never knowing, never dreaming such intimacy was possible with a man she should despise.

She’d said she wasn’t hungry, but that was a lie. She was suddenly starving for more of what Lachlan offered her as his lips stroked the flesh above her bodice. A soft groan filled the air. She startled when she realized it came from her own throat. Her eyes fluttered open to find him staring down at her, studying her with an intense stillness as his heart thundered in his chest. She could see in the blue depths of his eyes that he wanted her, that he was fighting his own hunger every bit as much as she wanted to fight her own. That fact should have frightened her, but it did not. Instead, it made her smile.

She’d thought she was weaponless against Lachlan, but she was not. A kiss could render him more vulnerable than any dagger ever could. Testing her theory, she brought her hand up to his cheek. Instantly, he pressed into her touch as a shudder racked his body.

Lachlan Douglas might be a warrior and her enemy, but she had power over him. He would be lost to her touch anytime she chose to wield her new weapon.

As though sensing the direction of her thoughts, he grasped her hand and pulled it away from his cheek. Every muscle in his body tense, he took a measured step back. “Accompany me to supper this evening.”

Knowing she had no other choice, Elizabeth nodded. “You really are a loathsome creature, you know.”

Lachlan stared at her for a long moment. “Only you can change the way you see others, Elizabeth. They will be exactly what you want them to be. Consider that while you bathe.”

“You’re not staying?”

His hands clenched at his sides. “Take the tub for yourself. I will bathe with the men in the barracks. I shall see you at supper.” With a bow of his head, he left.

She felt suddenly cold, and an unfamiliar pain settled in her stomach as she turned away from the door. For a long while, she stared at the bed in the center of the chamber, not seeing the golden bedcover or fine silk drapes that surrounded the bed, but the unknown emotion in a pair of blue eyes framed by golden lashes. She now had a new weapon to use against him. But using it would come with a price—a price that would reduce her to little more than what she’d claimed him to be: the most loathsome of creatures.

*

Lachlan strode with angry footsteps down the hallway. His blood still pounded in his veins as the scent of Elizabeth lingered on his skin. He’d come close to simply throwing her on the bed and getting her out of his system.

Was that the answer? Would physically possessing her body finally ease the frustration he felt every time they were in close proximity to each other? Or would such an act only make matters worse? He wanted her to come to him willingly, and he was prepared to wait for such a moment, but just when he thought he had himself under control, she would bait him with her words—cut him as deeply as any edged weapon might.

He released a growl of frustration.

“Trouble already?”

Lachlan paused, as his gaze connected with his host’s. Cameron Sinclair arched his brows as he leaned against the doorjamb of a chamber farther down the hallway. “Nothing I cannot handle.”

Cameron angled his head inside the chamber. “Come, indulge in a dram of whisky. You look downright miserable for a man who is so newly wed.”

Lachlan sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “It shows?”

“Aye.” Cameron headed toward a table positioned between two chairs that held a full bottle of whisky. He poured two glasses and handed one to Lachlan. “What are you going to do about your pretty little wife?”

He took the offered glass and sank into one of the chairs. “I wasn’t aware I needed to do anything about her.” Silence stretched between them until Lachlan finally added, “You don’t understand.”

Cameron sat opposite him. His dark eyes narrowed. “You’re right. I don’t understand.”

“She is my wife.”

“She’s certainly not taking up that role with any seriousness or you would be in the bedchamber with her now.”

“She feels unwanted and threatened.”