Lowri froze. ‘Stop. No.’
She pushed him off with surprising strength for a lass, and leapt out of bed, so fast, she tumbled onto the floor in a flash of white bottom and endless legs.
‘What is wrong?’ cried Cullen, painfully swollen with desire.
‘I cannot. I should not.’
‘Why not? You wanted me last night.’
Lowri scuffled onto her feet. ‘It was the whisky. You took me by surprise. I…I did not know what I was doing.’
‘Well, you know what to do now, and you are a fast learner, lass. Come back to bed.’
‘No.’ Her eyes darted around the chamber. She grabbed her dress and began to wriggle into it.
Cullen’s disappointment and thwarted lust made him angry. He leapt from the bed and took hold of her. ‘I said, come back to bed.’
She shook her head.
‘Why not? Is it because I make you feel good, and you don’t want to admit it? Let go of your pride, Lowri. Come and lie down with me.’
‘I said no, and you cannot make me.’
He took hold of her. ‘We’ll see about that.’
Cullen hurled her back onto the bed. He flung up her dress and opened her legs. He stared down at Lowri, longing to sink inside her once more, to still her harsh mouth with his own, to take her tenderly, gently, as he’d wanted. She did not fight him off, but the look of fear in her eyes stopped him dead. With a groan, he rolled off her and stared at the ceiling, heart thumping in frustration.
‘We have to do this to get a bairn,’ he snarled.
‘I know, but I don’t have to like it,’ she said, leaping from the bed and wriggling the whole way into her dress.
‘You don’t have to hate it either, or humiliate me.’
‘Me, humiliate you!’
‘Aye, to bring a man on, then spurn him like that.’
Silence fell, and they just glared at each other.
‘And it wasn’t the whisky last night, Lowri. I’ve had enough lasses to know that.’
‘You don’t know anything, and you will never know me, Cullen Macaulay.’
Lowri rushed away, probably to take refuge from his animal desires with Esther or Maeve, leaving Cullen to stare at the rafters, wondering where the hell he had gone wrong.
Chapter Fourteen
Under barked orders from Cullen, they took their awkward leave of Graywell. Seamus sported a black eye from his fight with Cullen, but the cousins embraced in a bear hug as if the fight had not happened, which puzzled Lowri greatly. Seamus said nothing to her, and Maeve was pale and downcast beside him, but Lowri was sure that was more to do with Cullen’s departure than hers. Since his revelation of Maeve kissing him, she harboured resentment towards the lass, which skirted dangerously close to jealousy.
‘Safe journey,’ shouted Seamus.
‘‘Come and visit soon. Do not forget us,’ shouted Maeve as they trotted off. Lowri glanced back to see the two exchange a glance, and then Seamus walked inside, leaving his wife waving furiously.
Lowri’s mood turned leaden, dread churning her stomach. It seemed her union had descended into the same coldness as Maeve and Seamus, for Cullen said not one word to her for several miles of riding. When he did speak, the harshness in his voice made her spine stiffen.
‘The harbour is not much further.’
‘Harbour?’
