Page 92 of Deception of a Highlander

He ripped his shirt off and braced his arms on either side of her. The bands of his glorious stomach tightened with each thrust, his body taut from their mock battle.

Mariel wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him deeper, reveling in the glorious feel of him filling her, stretching her.

His mouth slanted over hers as he lifted her off the ground and cradled her against him. He explored her mouth with the greedy stroke of his tongue and gently nipped her bottom lip. She curled her hips to meet each thrust until her body tightened with the promise of heaven that she had yet to only sample.

Kieran must have felt the change and increased his tempo with a ragged groan. She wound to the brink of ecstasy and cried out. The world around them shattered into a thousand lights that heated and tingled as all the chaos of her lost control centered on the inky depths of his stare. His bottom clenched beneath her heels as he roared his release.

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, with their chests rising and falling as their frenzied breaths calmed as one. His face was devoid of emotion, as expressionless and cold as it had been the previous two days, but his eyes were almost tender when he stared down at her. Mariel dared not speak for fear the delicate spell woven between them would snap.

Without warning, Kieran shoved off her and grabbed his leine from where it lay crumpled on the ground, his feelings apparent in the curl of contempt upon his lips.

Mariel grasped her shirt to her naked breasts with trembling fingers and choked down a sob.

What they’d just shared changed nothing.

CHAPTER 35

The sun had not yet risen when Mariel’s eyes flew open. Her stomach churned with excitement. Jack would be free today.

She threw off the heavy blanket of her bedroll and got to her feet, heedless of the sharp chill hanging in the air. Sleep would be impossible at this point, and she could use the extra time to prepare. She crept silently over the sleeping warriors surrounding her. Their rest was well-earned and necessary.

The last few days had been taxing on them all and left weary lines on their faces. Never once did they complain.

A tremor of unease coiled in her belly. Would two days of training be enough? Would the MacDonalds be ready for Aaron’s mercenaries?

A shadow moved in the clearing as she approached. The waning light of the moon was brilliant against the familiar bared back of a warrior with a proud stance. Kieran.

Mariel’s breath caught in her throat, and her step faltered. She did not want to be there, not with him. Not when he had wounded her as deeply as he had.

He turned in her direction, and his black eyes fixed upon hers as if he could see into the damage of her soul. “Mariel.” His voice was low, husky still with the effects of sleep. He had not been awake long.

His body would be overwarm to the touch, the way it always was when he first woke. Her fingernails bit into her palms in a vain attempt to clear the thought from her mind.

“Kieran,” she said in greeting. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, and heat flooded her cheeks. She was grateful for the cover of darkness.

She lowered herself to the damp ground and lay her chest against the length of her thigh, stretching the muscles necessary to ensure victory when the sun rose.

But no amount of focus or concentration could ease the pain burning within. Hearing his voice, seeing his naked back—all of it called to mind too many memories her heart could not stand to relive.

She did not blame him for what transpired between them. Not only had she not stopped him, but she had also wanted it as badly as he had. While she was not fool enough to think he would forgive her transgressions afterward, she had not expected such blatant rejection.

The budding light of dawn cast an orange-gold pallor on the silent forest and fell upon Kieran’s powerful frame, illuminating the glorious, chiseled flesh as he moved through his exercises beside her.

Her stomach knotted. This was the last time they would be alone. Too much had been left unsaid. She would be remiss if she wasted this opportunity.

“Kieran,” she said softly.

He stilled, his sword extended in mock parry, his face trained away from her. “Aye?”

She wouldn’t receive his undivided attention. So be it. She would speak her piece and remove the weight from her heart. “I want to thank you for agreeing to help Jack. I know he will look up to you.”

He swung his blade and turned to the other side, focused on his efforts. “I dinna have much of a choice, did I?”

Mariel winced at the barb. “Neither of us had much of a choice in all of this,” she said. “I have not yet had a chance to apologize to you.”

There was a pause before he extended the claymore in front of him with measured precision. His nonchalance would not dissuade her.

“The most horrible and selfish part is that I cannot completely regret my role in this heinous plot…because it led me to you.” Her throat drew tight, and she had to pause to regain her composure before continuing, “You are the only right thing that’s happened to me since my parents died.”