“No, it is not,” she said, gazing into his eyes. “You prefer guile and manipulation. By not forcing me, you have won everyone in Dunstaffnage to your side.”
“Save one.” He outlined her mouth with the tip of his finger. “For that one, I would give up all the rest.”
Her lips parted then and she searched his face. “I cannot give in to you. I cannot be the wife you want without betraying everything I am.”
Her voice shook as she told him the heart of her problem. He’d known it; she had told him in so many ways without the words being spoken. She had more honor in her soul than most of the warriors he’d faced in battle. This woman fought for her conscience when others sold theirs.
“Then you give me no choice but to force you,” he said, standing and pulling her to her feet. Her hands clutched at the blanket, but she did not fight him.
“Men…people of honor can serve on each side of a battle,” he began. He lifted her chin and brought her mouth closer to his so that his breath spilled onto her as he spoke. “This battle is not between the clans, is it,” he whispered as he touched his lips to hers and then drew back. “It is between Scotland and England.”
Sebastien kissed a path down her neck to the edge of the blanket, which she now held so tightly that her knuckles were white. “Robert stands for Scotland in the same way you have been standing for your clan.” He kissed the slope of her breast. “In good conscience.” He nipped back up to her chin. “With integrity.” He touched her mouth with his and then looked into her eyes. “With honor.”
His body surged just as it had earlier when she watched him from the window. Everything in him was screaming for him to take her now, but he knew it would be a mistake. It must be her decision. It must be.
“Have I not kept my word to you?” he asked. She frowned at his words. “Have I not kept any promise made to you since I came here on the orders of my king?” He gave her a moment to remember all the steps along their path and how he had been true to his word.
“I cannot think when you touch me like this,” she complained.
He let his hands wander over her, sliding over the blanket, knowing by the shivers and shudders that she could feel him. “Nay, Lara, the problem is that all you have been doing is thinking. It is time to trust.”
He took her face in his hands. “Can you trust me?” He hoped he was correct in his knowledge of her. He prayed that his gut instinct was right, or he would lose everything…. He would lose her.
She did not give an answer quickly, but then nodded slightly.
“I swear to you on my honor that Robert should be king of Scotland. I swear he is the rightful and legitimate king and that I follow him willingly and without reservation. Other men of honor who have fought against him now come to his side. Men and women of good conscience support his claim. Can you trust me in this and come tomyside?”
He kissed her then, openmouthed with all the passion he’d felt for these last weeks and weeks. He tasted her and his tongue touched hers, in and out, in and out, until she gasped for breath.
“Do not make me choose, Sebastien,” she begged him. “Do not.” She clutched at his hands now.
“You would not respect or trust me if I force you in this. It must be your choice.” He dropped his hands from her and moved back. In his soul he prayed that she knew he would not betray her. That he would keep her safe. That they could live together.
“So, look now into your heart and tell me. For the good of clan and country, indeed even for your own good and mine, do you continue the battle or come to my side and accept all that I offer you?”
Sebastien held his breath, knowing that the decision about his life and theirs would be made in the next moments.
Chapter Eleven
It was only a small movement. Not what he thought would be needed to signify such a momentous decision. Not even an obvious one except that he was watching her for any sign.
Her hand slipped on the blanket and the woolen cover shifted off her shoulder. When he expected her to adjust it, she did not. Instead, she held her hand out to him in much the same gesture that he’d made on the battlements those weeks ago. The nervous expression in her eyes told him that she was not yet convinced, but she trusted him enough to try.
Sebastien reached out, took her hand and brought it to his lips. “I thank you for your trust, Lara. I will not betray it.”
A fleeting look of pain passed over her face and then was gone. Had he imagined it? Then she nodded and stepped toward him, dropping the blanket on the floor.
“You do not need to do this, Lara. It can wait.”
Dear God! Had he uttered those words? He was as hard as the first time he’d seen one of the kitchen maids in his mother’s inn frolicking naked with a stable boy. The need to bury himself within Lara had made him boldly show her his desire in the light of day. He had thought endlessly of the moan she’d gifted him with when he’d touched that most private of places on her body. At this point, he thought he might have imagined it, but he wanted more than anything to find out…to make her soften at his touch, at his entrance.
His control stretched to its breaking point, and he wanted it to break. As though he’d spoken the words out loud, she smiled and let her hand rest over his hardness. Barely a touch, certainly not a caress. He felt the shudder ripple through him and he fisted his hands to avoid throwing her on the bed and burying himself. When she reached out for the laces of his trews, he gave a growl in warning that she did not heed.
Lara slipped her hand inside the loosened ties and touched him. He surged against her hand as he wrapped his arms around her. Flesh to flesh, her skin was hot and he only wanted to taste and smell her…and mark her as his own. Taking her by the shoulders, he dragged her with him until his legs hit the bed. Falling back, he lifted her on top of him until she straddled his hips.
Sebastien reached up and took her hands, entwining their fingers and pulling her down to kiss him. Her mouth was warm and welcoming and he could feel the heat of her, open above him. He lifted his hips and slid his hard male flesh against her until she began to move on her own. Unable to enter her without adjusting her position, and unwilling to let go of her hands, he simply enjoyed the sensations created by the friction of her wet flesh against his.
When her movements became frantic, he realized she did not know what to do. She’d been a virgin the first time they’d joined and had no experience to guide her. He freed her hands and slid his under her hips, tilting her upward, and then with one thrust he filled her.
