Alana began to shake. “I trusted you,” she heard herself say.
“That was unwise.” He now flung the fur from his shoulders onto the pile of hides.
“I trusted you to protect me.” Tears finally blinded her. “I have trusted one person my entire life—Gran. And then, I trusted you!”
He flinched, his back to her. Then he stalked to the small table where a new stool had been placed and sat down, his back to her. He poured wine. His hand shook as he did so. “No, Alana—I trusted ye.”
Tears fell. She could not stop them. His back was so rigid with anger. Alana walked to him and laid her bound wrists on his shoulder. She was so afraid of what was happening to them. “I never meant to betray you,” she whispered.
He sat as still as a statue—for several harshly drawn breaths. “Stand back, Alana,” he warned.
She trembled. “I cannot lose you, Iain.”
“It’s too late.” And then he whirled, knocking over the stool, crushing her in his arms. His mouth claimed hers, hard and hurtfully.
He growled and increased the viselike pressure of his arms. He was rough, and she knew he wanted to cause pain. Fear warred with desire. Surely passion could bring them back together, she thought. Desperation arose.
As he kissed her, Alana gasped and he deepened the kiss deliberately. She tasted blood. Her hands were between them, and she brought them up against his chest. It crossed her mind that even if she protested, he would not heed her. He was so angry.
He walked her back a step and pushed her down onto the pallet, very abruptly.
His kiss was bruising and he was angry, but she loved him. She did not know if he meant to punish her, and even if he did, she would bear it. For surely sex would turn into lovemaking. Surely passion would bring them together again. She was desperate—she would do anything to get past his anger, to regain his love.
And she did not think she could resist him, anyway. Not when she loved him so. “Iain. I love you,” she said.
He broke the kiss to look at her, his eyes blazing. “This isn’t love.”
Tears arose once more. “Yes, it is,” she answered. Before she could protest further or plead with him he came down on top of her, kissing her again. He was determined to take her as coldly and as cruelly as possible, she thought. But she understood. Alana kissed him back, but not with passion. “I love you,” she whispered again.
He grunted in satisfaction. Now, their tongues entwined. Alana kissed him again, desire beginning in spite of his cruelty. She would always love him, want him, she thought. Desire flamed. Their mouths fused, she moved her bound wrists lower, brushing up against his manhood, and finding the hem of his leine. She tugged it upward, while hooking her ankles over his calves.
He inhaled harshly, found her skirts and moved them up past her waist, breaking the breathless kiss as he did so. In the dull candlelight, their gazes met.
His eyes blazed with lust—and anguish. “Would you untie me?” she managed to ask. She wanted to wrap him in her arms. She had never meant to hurt him this way.
His answer was to kiss her, hard, shoving one thigh between her legs.
Alana forgot about her wrists. He was hard and male between her legs, dulling the fear, the desperation, causing more urgency. He rocked against her and Alana heard herself moan.
And then he pushed deeply within her.
Alana lay still, unable to hold him, caught between grief and desire. He wanted to use her, and she knew it. As he began to increase his rhythm, Alana raised her bound wrists to touch his jaw. “Iain,” she whispered.
He trembled. “Ye betrayed me.”
“No.” She reached up with both hands and touched his cheek.
He kissed her now, deeply, otherwise unmoving. Deliberately Alana kissed him back. More desire surged. She welcomed it. Iain rose up over her, and she gasped. This time, he watched her as he moved deeply inside her.
She wanted to tell him again that she loved him, but now, she could not speak. She cried out, blinded by the growing pleasure.She would always need him.They pushed hard at each other, and harder, endlessly, until Alana felt the tide of ecstasy. It broke. Washed over her. Again and again.
She wept helplessly in his arms.
She drifted in contentment, unable to think. Cool air wafted over her.
Alana’s eyes flew open. Iain had left their bed.
She turned onto her side and levered herself to sit up.
