Faith looked at him, her eyes widening. “No, he hasn’t… dishonored me.”
“Hmmmph”, her father said. “Ye said nothing about his hands.”
Bren had stood and watched another man taking away the woman that was his. His by rights, and his by destiny. He didn’t give a damn if the man was her father or God himself; he was taking Faith away from him, and he wanted to kill him for it. It was all he could do to stand there with pure hot rage boiling in his veins and not let it show. He could not even look at her for fear of losing the already tenuous grip he had on his control. Hehad no choice; he had to let her go with her father or risk starting a bloody feud. Loghan was a powerful laird, and Bren wouldn’t ask his own men to risk their lives when he could simply wait and have her back without a bloody battle. Had he refused to give her over to her father, Loghan would have been forced to defend his daughter’s honor. But he would have her back. No matter what happened, Faith belonged to him and him alone. He wouldneverlet her go!
In a few days time, he would make a formal visit to Dunreven Castle, and ask for her hand in marriage. He cursed himself for not binding her to him sooner. If he had wed her already, no man, not even her father could take her away from him. But Faith would never have agreed. He would have had to force her, and that would have ripped his heart out. He pushed his hands through his hair. In the hearth, the fire flared up to an inferno. It had been just two days since she left and already he was utterly beside himself. He wanted her with him, wanted her heart for his own, and wanted her naked and willing in his bed. The memory of the night in the forest when he had come so close to taking her suddenly assaulted him. His body hardened. His pulse beat in his temples. He roared in anger and frustration, uncaring who heard him. In the hall, the servants whispered to one another and stayed out of his way.
Bren waited the two agonizing days he thought proper, or bloody well proper enough, then set out for Dunreven, unable to hold out another moment. His brother Eian went with him, as well as a small contingent of his best warriors. He wanted Faith to be safe, when he brought her home to Creagmor, because he wasn’t leaving without her. It had been a shock to learn her true identity, and he was still a bit angry at Dirc for keeping the whole truth from him. Even if, as he claimed, his intentions were good. Faith McAlpin. The laird’s own long-lost daughter. Heiress to all of Dunreven, since Loghan had never remarried or had anysons. And yet it wouldn’t have mattered to him if she were the daughter of a pauper; she was the only woman he wanted.
It was long after the dinner hour when they finally reached Dunreven. He and his men were shown to the hall and offered food and drink while Loghan was made aware of their arrival. Bren was about ready to jump out of skin by the time the laird came down to the hall to greet his unexpected guests. Well, uninvited anyway, if not exactly unexpected.
“Where’s Faith?” he blurted out without preamble. “I want to see her!”
Loghan frowned sternly at him. “In her chamber, preparing for her bed most likely.”
“I want to see her”, Bren said, more evenly. “I need to see her, to speak to her.”
“Ye will see her in the morning. Ye may break the fast with us in the hall if ye like. Until then, it is growing late, and someone will show ye where ye can sleep.”
Bren almost said more, but Eian’s firm grasp on his arm staid him. His brother was right, he had to tread carefully if he wanted Loghan to give up his daughter to him without a fight. But by hell or high water, if he didn’t give him Faith, therewouldbe a fight.
Loghan McAlpin watched Bren Mac Coinnach stalk from the room like a cross and hungry lion. He had only just found his daughter again, and now he would lose her to this man. The sorcerer Dirc had told him of the ring, and how it had brought her to Bren. He had seen with his own eyes what was between them, and was not surprised at how quickly Bren had come for her. He knew all about the chief of the Mac Coinnach clan. His power, his strength, his pride. And his honor. He would gladly give this man his only daughter. There was no better match forher in all of Scotland. And united as one, the McAlpins and the Mac Coinnachs would not be easily defeated.
Bren didn’t last more than a few hours under the same roof as Faith and not being allowed to see her. He had already found out where she slept, and now he reached her door unseen, cloaking himself with the darkness, unable to believe he was creeping about the castle in the middle of the night like a lad. But she washiswoman, damn it! Her room was locked, but he opened it easily with no more than a thought well-aimed towards the keyhole. Carefully closing the door behind him, he looked to the bed where Faith lay asleep, a sliver of moonlight falling across her cheek from the open window. He moved silently across the room, needing to be near her, his heart racing, and bent down to kiss her lips.
She woke with a start, drawing a breath in to scream, but he pulled her close, moving his finger to cover her mouth and quiet her until she had recognized him. When she did, her eyes lit up, and he felt her lips curve into a smile under his fingertips. She was glad to see him, then. His body felt weak with relief as it flowed through him. He had not known until that moment how afraid he was that she wouldnotwant to see him, especially now that she had her father and her place at Dunreven. His fingers were still splayed across her lips, and she kissed the pad of one finger, drawing it into her mouth, scraping it gently with her teeth. He hissed in a breath, his eyes closing as a rush of pure lust shot through his veins. He pulled his fingers from her mouth, replacing them with his lips and tongue in a deep, hard kiss that took his breath. He forced her back onto the bed, his mouth consuming hers, the soft waves of his dark hair brushing her cheek, his hands tearing at the ties of her night shirt until he freed one breast, squeezing it with a soft moan.
“I missed ye so much,” he murmured, trailing hot, fevered kisses down her neck. “Dinna ever leave my side again.” He had only meant to speak with her, maybe steal a few kisses, but instead he was quickly burning out of control. His need for her was a living thing, a hunger ravaging his body day and night, never letting him rest, because he could not feed it. Not yet, but soon. Her arms came up, circled his neck, pulled him back to her lips, kissing him with wild abandonment. He lowered his body to hers, pushing his full and aching groin into the delicate vee of her legs. She gasped, and he groaned softly as if in pain. God, he wanted her clothes off, he wanted his clothes off. He reached for the hem of her shirt… and heard the unmistakable metallic slide of a weapon being drawn. He froze, then glanced over his shoulder.
“Yer father”, he mumbled, turning back to her. “Bloody, bloody, bloody hell.”
Faith couldn’t help herself, she smiled, stifled a giggle. He looked like he had been just caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He gave her an incredulous look as he fumbled with her clothing, tugging it awkwardly back into place.
“Aye, ye can laugh, can ye no’? Ye are no' the one about to have yer ballocks sliced off with a sword.”
“I really hope it doesn’t come to that”, she whispered, “when after all I haven’t even had a chance to see them yet.”
Another bolt of lust shot through him at the thought of her looking at him there,touchinghim, and he almost leaned forward to take her lips again. Then someone cleared their throat loudly behind him.
“I hope I have arrived in time to save my daughter’s virtue, Mac Coinnach?”
Bren heaved a sigh, still looking at Faith. “Oh, aye, ye most certainly have.”
She wanted to giggle again at the look of pained exasperation on his face.
Her father was not so amused. He waved the huge sword he held in a menacing arc. “Get out, now! I dinna care who ye are, Laird of Creagmor or King of Scotland, ye have nay right to be in this room! I kenned I should have posted a guard at this door. It’s a verra lucky thing I decided to check on my daughter before I retired.”
Bren gave Faith a rueful half smile, then mouthed “later”. But his eyes still burned into her, making her heart pound in anticipation. He turned and walked to the door, if rather stiffly. Her father stepped aside and escorted him through. “My study”, he grumbled. “Now.”
But just before he closed the door, though it could have been a trick of the light, Faith could have sworn she saw her father smile.
Bren went into the study and carefully lowered himself into the offered chair. Loghan had closed the door, leaving just the two of them to face each other. And Bren had faced plenty of angry fathers in his time, mostly in his younger days, when youthful indiscretion often ruled over common sense. But this time itmattered. He assumed there would be yelling, strong words, threats. Perhaps Loghan would even be moved to draw a weapon or to strike him. Hell,hewould certainly strike any man who would dare to touchhisdaughter! And then he would probably kill the man. He tensed, ready to defend himself, if need be. He wouldn’t hurt Faith’s father, but he wasn’t going to stand by and let himself be hacked to pieces, either.
But Loghan simply sat in the opposite chair, quietly studying him for a moment. Then he heaved a weary, heart-felt sigh. “Ye are the one, then.”
It was not quite a question, but more of a begrudging acknowledgment.
Bren nodded. “Aye”, he said, very softly.
