She nodded and pulled him in deeper, meeting his oncoming thrust with a firm push that placed the tip of his erection tight up against her womb.
His chest heaved with alarm. He could not continue this. He had to withdraw.
He promised that he would, but it was three strokes, then four, then five. Soon he was driving in and out of her with heedless abandon and vigorous haste, and she was squeezing his buttocks, pulling him deeper inside every time he tried to separate himself from her exquisite, glowing warmth.
Suddenly a scorching heat poured through all his bones and muscles. He recognized the signs of a climax, shuddered uncontrollably within, and a second too late pulled out and hauled himself up on his hands and knees above her. He finished his orgasm on her stomach.
When it was over, his eyes flew open.
She was staring up at him in shock.
“What have we done?” he asked.
Catherine’s cheeks flushed with alarm. She sat up, but had no answer to give.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Catherine gazed anxiously at the flurry of activity that surrounded her as she made her way down the front stairs of the inn, across the taproom, and toward the front door. A plump kitchen maid rushed forth to thrust a cloth-covered basket into her hands, and Alex appeared out of nowhere, taking hold of her elbow to escort her out.
“One would think there was a fire,” Catherine mentioned, laboring to sound casual when she was, quite simply, paralyzed with fear. She had allowed herself to make love to Lachlan a short time ago, after dozens of promises and assurances that it would never happen, and now he was more agitated than ever. He would never trust her again. No matter what happened.
The rest of it—that she might fall victim to her sister’s curse in nine months’ time—did not bear thinking of. Surely it was absurd, she tried to tell herself as Alex opened the door in front of her. There could be no validity in such hexes and sorcery, and yet she could not seem to let go of the possibility that it was true. Lachlan certainly seemed to think so.
But neither could she let go of the memory of his touch, and all the sensations she had experienced when he slid inside and made love to her at last. She was still light-headed and completely overwhelmed.
Alex led her outside, where the chilly morning air struck her cheeks. A shiny black coach was waiting for them on the opposite side of the narrow street.
The well-appointed vehicle, led by four handsome gray horses, sported bright yellow stripes along the side panels. Tassel-ornamented blinds covered the windows, which were cloaked in crusty frost. Sitting up front was a liveried driver with a curly brown wig under a tricorne hat, which he tipped at her as she approached.
“I don’t know why Lachlan was in such a hurry this morning,” Alex said as he led her across the street. “He was in a foul mood when he pounded on our doors to wake us. And he said we won’t stop again until we reach Edinburgh, except to change horses. We’ll be traveling until the wee hours of the morning, I expect.”
Naturally, Alex was curious, and probably concerned about the sudden urgent need to reach their destination. But under no circumstances would Catherine reveal what had occurred in her bedchamber that morning. If news of their lovemaking got out, Alex and the others would likely put a pistol to Lachlan’s head.
Alex opened the door of the coach and handed her inside while the horses grumbled and blew great puffs of steam out of their flaring nostrils. Catherine sat down on a deeply buttoned leather-upholstered seat and gazed around the cozy interior, taking note of two thick blankets folded and set upon the opposite seat, as well as a green-and-white-striped silk pillow with gold fringe, which looked as if it had just been snatched from someone’s drawing room.
“Where did all this come from?” she asked Alex, who was leaning in the door, also looking around.
“Lachlan purchased it from the banker. He said he paid double what it was worth, but those were Angus’s instructions.”
“I see.”
Alex pointed at the floor. “There are hot bricks there for your feet, my lady, and there should be enough food in that basket to last until nightfall.”
“But we’ll stop before then, will we not?”
“Aye, don’t worry. We’ll stop to change horses a few times. You’ll be able to step out.”
Scarcely reassured, Catherine tipped her head back and shut her eyes.
“They’ve already loaded all the bags on the roof,” Alex told her, as if he sensed her unease and hoped to distract her with trivial conversation. “Gawyn, Roderick, and Rodney will be following close by, and I’ll be riding ahead to scout the route.”
“Where is Lachlan now?” she asked, needing to know if she would see him before they departed.
Alex looked up and down the street. “He’s around here somewhere, but I don’t recommend holding him up. As I said, he’s in a foul mood this morning. He wants these wheels rolling. Can I get you anything else before I close the door?”
“No, Alex. That will be all.”
He shut it, then shouted to the driver, who shouted to the horses, and almost immediately the great vehicle heaved forward and began to rumble down the street—toward a very uncertain future.
