“Aye,” he said low, “I am going to kill you.”
She wrapped her arms about his neck and pressed herself against his hard body. “How?” she murmured against his lips. “How will you kill me, my lord Conal?”
The tip of her tongue snaked out to run over his lips.
She rubbed suggestively against him.
He could feel the nipples of her breasts against his chest. The heat from her mons was turning his manhood rigid with desire. There had never been a woman who satisfied him so well, and he knew that there would never be one like Adair. He wanted her. But what was this love she prated about? He didn’t understand, and so he kissed her another fierce kiss. And then he kissed her over and over again until she was limp in his arms.
Pushing her onto the bed, he stripped his clothing off, tossing it carelessly from him. And when he turned back to her she had removed her chemise and lay naked for him to enjoy. He stood for a long moment looking down at her. Love? Was it this hungry longing he felt for her?
Nay. What he felt right now was nothing more than pure lust.
“What are you thinking?” Adair asked him, seeing the confusion on his face. She lay on her side, propping herself up on an elbow.
“That before I kill you I am going to enjoy your delicious little body,” the laird told her, joining her on the bed. His big hand swept down the curve of her hip. “Did you enjoy Alpin’s attentions?” he asked her jealously.
“I have already told you that the fool had nothing of me. Do you want to know exactly what happened, Conal? He pushed me face first into the bed space. His hand was holding me down by the nape of my neck. His other hand was attempting to loosen his clothing, and I screamed. Beiste came to my rescue, and I was able to stand. Then you came. That is all that happened. I had not had the opportunity to be certain the bed space was properly made, and was checking it. Since I had not yet barred the door, I assumed he was outside peeing, or talking with one of the men.”
“He wants you,” the laird said. “I could see it in his eyes even after I beat him.”
“He will never have me, Conal,” Adair said quietly.
“Learn to love me, and I will wed you. Not love me with your body, for you already do that.”
“But what other way is there to love a woman?” he asked her.
“With your whole heart,” she said softly.
“I do not understand,” he answered her.
“And until you do I cannot wed you, my lord,” Adair told him. “This time I will marry only a man who loves me, and whom I can love in return.”
“I do not know or understand the kind of love you speak about,” he told her honestly. “But I have heard it said that true love brings unhappiness as well as happiness, Adair. Is it not better to marry for more sensible reasons?”
“I should rather know true love, whatever it may bring me, than to know only loneliness of the heart for the rest of my life, Conal,” she replied candidly. Then, reaching up, she drew his dark head down to her and kissed his lips sweetly.
“If I put a bairn in your belly I will not have it born on the wrong side of the blanket,” he told her. “You must swear you will wed me if you are with child.”
“I was born on the wrong side of the blanket,” Adair responded.
“You were a royal brat, and that is different. You know it is.”
“Then if you would have a bairn born on the right side of the blanket, Conal, you had best learn what true love is all about,” Adair advised him. “Now make love to me, my lord, for you know I am as lustful as you are.”
He obliged, losing himself in the passion that blazed, but the matter of love hung between them.
In the morning after he had seen Alpin Bruce gone from the keep, the laird rode out to the cottage of Agnes Carr, which was on the far side of the nearby village. A big red-haired woman with pillowy breasts and full hips, she greeted him delightedly.
“I had heard you have taken a mistress. Some littleEnglish wench you bought from Willie Douglas last Michaelmas. Have you grown tired of her this soon, my lord?” She held out her arms to him and enfolded him in a lusty embrace.
Conal Bruce gave the woman a brief kiss on her lush mouth, and then he said, “Give me some of that whiskey you keep, Agnes. I have not grown tired of Adair. In fact, I would marry her, but she will not have me.” He sat down on the settle by the hearth.
“Will not have you? Is the lass daft then, my lord?”
She poured him the whiskey in a pewter double dram for she suspected he needed it. “Here,” Agnes said, handing him the cup, and sitting opposite him on a three-legged stool.
Conal Bruce took a gulp of the whiskey. It hit his stomach like a fireball, and made his eyes water.
