The Laird of Stonehaven Read online

  But even as she enjoyed his kiss, Blair hated knowing that Graeme could make her want him so. Her strength was her pride. She was no weak creature whose life wasn’t complete without a man. Vaguely she wondered if Graeme had any idea of the effect he had upon her. God willing, he did not.

  But she could not deny that his kisses excited her. Without volition, her body pressed forward to meld with his. Despite the pleasure she felt, she was both angry and humiliated at the way her nipples hardened and at the blossoming warmth between her legs. Then the words she had heard earlier in the stillroom came back to haunt her. If she had interpreted their advice correctly, the spirits wanted her to become Graeme’s wife in every way. Still, she found it difficult to believe they wanted her to lie with Graeme, to take him into her body and become one with him.

  That thought was so exciting, she unconsciously allowed herself to be drawn deeper into Graeme’s kiss, to meet his tongue thrust for thrust, to open her mouth and taste him fully. Her mouth was seared by his branding possession, and she realized that she had never been closer to losing her powers than she was now. Then she felt his hand on her breast, burning her flesh through the material of her night rail and robe, and she knew that if she allowed him to consummate their marriage, she would be forever changed, just as the spirits had warned.

  Blair was already half in love with Graeme and feared that the communion of their bodies would spell the end of her powers . . . unless he loved her in return. And that was not likely to happen.

  She tried to bat his hand away, but he held it firmly against her breast. The iron clench of his jaw bespoke his determination, but she was just as determined to withhold herself from him.

  “What are you doing?” she cried, breaking free of the kiss. “What do you want from me?”

  “Naught but that which is my right to claim. Do you deny that my kisses move you? A man can tell when a woman is attracted to him. And a man has needs. Why should I satisfy them elsewhere when I have a wife?”

  “I willna lie, Graeme. I am attracted to you, and your kisses do move me, but I canna give up my powers for physical pleasure. The day you tell me you love me is the day I give my body to you.”

  He drew back as if struck. “You want me to lie? I can never love anyone but—”

  “You love a dead woman!” Blair charged. “Heath told me about Joan the Maid.”

  “Heath shouldna have regaled you with tales, but since he has, I willna lie. There will never be another Joan. I worshiped her for her integrity, her innocence, her zeal and her unwavering faith. I loved her as a mortal loves a goddess, too far above me to touch. ’Tis difficult to imagine myself in love with a woman less worthy than Joan. Since the world will never see another Joan, love has ceased to exist for me.”

  Blair’s heart sank. How could she compete with a saint? Her situation was hopeless. No matter what the spirits had told her, Graeme would never love her, and she would never know the fulfillment of physical love.

  “You should leave,” Blair said. “ ’Tis late, and we both need our sleep.”

  “Not until I impress upon you the folly you are courting. I was there for Joan’s trial. I saw her die. I watched the flames lick at her frail body. People called her a witch. Think you I want the same fate for you?”

  It suddenly dawned on Blair what Graeme wanted. “You want me to fall in love with you, even though you know you canna return my love.”

  “ ’Tis far better to lose your powers than to die such a cruel death. ’Twas not a pretty sight. I am not convinced you possess magical powers, mind you, but ’tis not impossible. If you believe loving me will cause you to lose those powers, I consider that a good thing and am determined to make it happen. I intend to protect you, Blair, even from yourself. You are your own worst enemy.”

  “I refuse to let you into my heart, Graeme Campbell,” Blair declared.

  “Mayhap I am already there,” he hinted, then frowned when he realized what he had said. “Love me with your body. Prove that you are immune to me.”

  Blair dragged in a shaky breath. “You know I am not immune to you.”

  “Do your powers mean so much to you?”

  “They are the reason for my being.”

  “I canna protect you if you dinna cooperate.”

  Blair squared her shoulders. “I dinna ask for your protection. Unlike my father, I dinna believe marriage to you will protect me from those who wish me harm.”

  “I will leave you with one thought,” Graeme said. “Love me or not, I will do what I must to protect you. And that means stopping you from conjuring unnatural powers and evil spirits. Heed me well, Blair. Think twice about flaunting my authority. I will ban you from the stillroom if I must.” With those words, he departed from the chamber.

  Exhausted and confused, Blair sought her bed. Her flesh still burned where Graeme had touched her, and her lips were on fire. Curling into a ball beneath the covers, she cleared her mind of disturbing thoughts and willed herself to sleep.

  The dream started almost immediately. People were standing over her as she lay helplessly upon a bed. The dream became a nightmare when she saw her brother Niall and Donal MacKay, their expressions harsh as they forced her back against the mattress when she tried to rise. Then another figure moved into her line of vision.

  Gunna the midwife!

  Rough hands shoved her legs apart, and Gunna moved between them. The scream died in Blair’s throat as the dream ended abruptly. She was panting and bathed in sweat. The warning in the dream was explicit.

  Niall and Donal MacKay had not accepted her marriage to Graeme and intended to destroy it. The dream implied that Niall suspected she might still be virginal and intended to prove it in order to annul her marriage to Graeme.

  Niall hated her for many reasons. He had always resented their kinsmen’s loyalty to her and was jealous of her father’s love. But more than that, he feared her. The times he had accused her of witchcraft and sought to turn their kinsmen against her were too numerous to count. Against her father’s wishes, he had promised her to MacKay, who was even more evil than Niall. Once she was under his control, Blair knew MacKay would exploit her powers.

  Blair could not allow that to happen. Her powers were to be used to heal and help those she cared about. Faery Women were free to choose their own life course, and she had chosen the path of goodness. She knew exactly what she had to do to foil Niall’s nefarious plans for her.

  Blair slid out of bed and faced the connecting door between her chamber and Graeme’s. She reached for her chamber robe, then decided against it. She would go to Graeme as she was. Her knees were quaking as she reached for the candlestick and marched resolutely toward her destiny.

  The door opened noiselessly beneath her fingers, and she stepped into the chamber. Her gaze went immediately to the large bed swathed in thick curtains.

  If she hadn’t been convinced this was necessary, she would have fled. Resolutely she crept forward, her thoughts focused on what would—nay, must—take place in the bed very soon. The breath left her in a whoosh when the bed hangings parted and Graeme burst through, a wicked-looking claymore in his hand.

  “What the hell!” he roared when he saw Blair’s shaking form. He dropped the claymore. “Never, ever sneak up on me like that. I could have killed you.”

  “I . . . I . . .” Words failed her.

  Graeme was naked, poised on limbs as sturdy as twin oaks. Every muscle and tendon in his body rippled with suppressed energy. Blair’s admiring gaze wandered over his massive torso and broad shoulders. When he had burst from the bed she had been frightened, but that was no longer true. She was totally, thoroughly mesmerized.

  Slowly her gaze slid lower, pausing at the juncture of his thighs, where his manhood was beginning to stir to life. Blair wanted to look elsewhere but could not bear to turn her eyes away.

  “Keep looking at me like that and naught will stop me from dragging you into my bed and taking my pleasure. What are you doing here? You mad
e it clear you wanted naught to do with me.”

  “A woman can change her mind, can she not?”

  Graeme was utterly flummoxed. If Blair had said she was flying to the moon, he could not have been more shocked. She looked very small and vulnerable standing before him in her shift, hair like spun gold tumbling about her shoulders and violet eyes huge in her pale face. She looked like an angel come to earth, but he knew better.

  Clearly she was up to something.

  He grabbed his plaid and wound it about his waist. “Exactly what have you changed your mind about, lass? What is so important that you would creep into my chamber in the middle of the night?”

  “I . . . I . . . This is difficult, Graeme.”

  He reached her in three long steps and grasped her shoulders. “Just say what you came to say.”

  He watched intently as she swallowed hard and appeared to gather her courage. When she looked up at him, he forgot everything but the clawing hunger for his wife eating at his vitals. Nonetheless, he held himself aloof, waiting for her to tell him what she wanted from him. He prayed it was the same thing he wanted.

  She closed the narrow gap between them, pressing so close, the heat of her body singed him. He groaned as if in pain when her pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips. He was so intent upon those lush lips, he had to concentrate to make sense of her words.

  “I want to be a real wife to you, Graeme. Now. Tonight.”

  Surely he hadn’t heard right. Why now? Why tonight? “You want me to make love to you? What changed your mind? Did you decide that preserving your powers was not worth denying yourself the pleasure of the marriage bed?”

  Blair debated revealing her dream to Graeme but feared he would laugh at her. When future happenings were revealed to her in her dreams, she knew they would come true, but Graeme was an unbeliever. Their marriage had to be consummated if she wished to escape Niall’s machinations.

  “I was wrong to deny you,” Blair said. “You are my husband.”

  Graeme pushed her away from him, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. “What happened to change your mind? Am I suddenly so attractive to you that you canna resist me?”

  Consternation darkened Blair’s brow. This wasn’t going the way she’d thought it would. Why was Graeme being so stubborn? A sudden fear drained her face of color. Had her unwillingness to let him bed her killed his desire for her?

  “Dinna you want me, Graeme?”

  His harsh exhalation gave her hope. “You think I dinna want you? You know better than that.” He searched her face. “I wonder . . . Aren’t you afraid you’ll lose your powers? What happened to change your mind after I left your chamber?”

  “I decided I could never love you,” Blair lied, thinking fast. “My powers will remain intact as long as love isna involved in our marriage.” Refusing to look him in the eye, she added, “I dinna like the idea of another woman in your bed.” That, at least, was the truth.

  He stared at her so long, Blair began to tremble beneath his intent gaze. What was he thinking? Why was he hesitating?

  “Tell me the truth, Blair. Why are you here?”

  Blair sighed. There was no help for it. Graeme wanted the truth, and she would have to tell him if she wanted his cooperation. “I had a dream.”

  “A dream? Is that what this is all about?”

  “Dinna scoff, Graeme. My dreams are portents of the future.”

  He led her to the bed and urged her to sit down. Looming over her, he said, “What part of the dream convinced you to come to my bed?” He took her hand between his; she was trembling and wondered if he could tell.

  “Niall and the MacKay.”

  Graeme stiffened. “What about them? We are wed—they can do naught to hurt you now.”

  “They are coming to Stonehaven. Niall doesna believe we have a legal marriage, and he intends to give me to MacKay if he finds I am still a maiden.”

  “And of course you are,” Graeme said. “Did your dream tell you how they will prove your state of innocence?”

  Suddenly he went still, as if the answer had abruptly dawned on him. “Your stepbrother wouldna dare! Think you I would let him put his hands on you?”

  “If I dreamed it, it will happen.”

  “So you decided ’twas time to consummate our marriage and came to my chamber to seduce me.”

  “I dinna like MacKay. He is a greedy man. I know not how or why, but he intends to exploit my powers.”

  “Am I the lesser of two evils?”

  “You are my husband. You are the only man with the right to . . . my body.”

  “Can you make love with me without engaging your emotions?”

  “I believe I can. I know now you are a man I canna love so neither my heart nor my powers are in danger.”

  The corners of Graeme’s mouth lifted. “I dinna believe that dreams can come true, but I am perfectly willing to make love to you.” Gripping her shoulders, he gazed into her eyes, his challenge palpable. “Kiss me, lass.”

  There were both question and demand in his blue eyes as his gaze searched hers. Blair tried to look away, fearing he would see through her lies, but could not. Risking her powers was indeed the lesser of two evils, but, oh, she had a feeling she was going to enjoy this.

  Hesitating but a moment, Blair lifted her face and touched her mouth to his. The meeting of their lips was like setting fire to tinder, and Blair shuddered as her body turned to liquid fire. Graeme’s mouth clamped down tight over hers, stealing her breath. His kiss was not gentle. It seemed that all his suppressed passion of the past several days had exploded into that one kiss.

  The blunt force of his tongue exploring her mouth sent a jolt of desire shooting through her. The stirrings of passion she had felt when Graeme kissed her before were naught compared to the stark need clawing at her now. Mindlessly she pressed closer to him, hunger for more than his kisses blinding her to the Prophecy.

  Chapter Six

  Blair was vaguely aware that Graeme was moving her, pivoting her until she was lying on the bed. She gasped when he pushed up the hem of her shift, reluctant to let him remove her last shred of modesty.

  She stilled his hand. “Must you?”

  “Aye. You have no idea how I have been burning for you.” He nudged her legs apart with the barest stroke of his thumb. “I need to see all of you, taste all of you. And when I have looked and tasted my fill, I want to feel you melt around me.”

  His name quivered on her lips when he stripped her of her shift and tossed it aside. She tried to hide herself from him, but he would not allow it. Then her legs suddenly went boneless as his fingers slid between them and into the moist cleft of her womanhood.

  “Oh . . . You must not.”

  “Aye, I must.”

  He stroked her with an expertise that left her breathless and panting for more. Was this the way it was supposed to be between a man and a woman? Graeme seemed to know exactly what to do, alternating from a slow, rhythmic slide of his finger between the petals of her sex to a frenzied friction that had her clutching at him in frantic torment.

  She moaned in frustration, unsure what lay beyond the titillation of Graeme’s talented hands and fearing she would never be the same afterward. Then he kissed her, and the world fell away beneath her. Her body arched into his, her senses heightened by the scent of his arousal; she felt herself spinning out of control.

  When his lips abandoned hers, she wanted to grasp his thick black hair and pull him back, but he took his loving to a higher level, bringing his mouth down to suckle her nipples. She felt her breasts swell as liquid heat rushed through her veins. Nothing in her life had prepared her for this.

  She thought all she had to do was lie on her back and let Graeme have his way, but naught was going the way she had imagined. Never would she have thought her body capable of such intense feelings. Pleasure was a bonus she had not anticipated.

  “Your breasts are perfect,” he whispered. “Everything about you is perfect.”

&n
bsp; Abruptly he went still, as if suddenly aware of what he had said. Then he reared back and stared at her.

  “What is it?” Blair asked, confused by his sudden withdrawal.

  Graeme withheld a reply as he reached for a candlestick and held it high above her. She squirmed beneath his dark, probing gaze, wondering what he was looking for.

  “Turn around. I want to see your backside,” Graeme ordered.

  A groan of dismay trembled from her lips. She knew, oh God, she knew. Graeme was looking for a witch’s mark upon her body. What must she do to convince him of her innocence? She was angry, angrier than she had ever been. How dare he doubt her! She started to draw away, but Graeme flipped her over and held her down before she realized what he intended. She protested violently when she felt his hand glide over her bottom and down her legs.

  “What did you expect to find?” she asked when he flipped her over on her back. “Nay, dinna answer, I already know. You were looking for a witch’s mark upon my skin.”

  Graeme shrugged. “I’m sorry, lass. I had to know.”

  “Did you find what you were looking for?”

  “I found naught but smooth, unblemished skin.” He lowered his head and kissed her abdomen. “You are flawless, lass.” With a flick of his wrist, he removed his plaid. “I hope you find me as tempting as I find you.”

  Were all men as magnificently endowed as Graeme? she wondered. Somehow she doubted it. The sheer power of his sex, thrusting proudly from the thatch of dark curls at his groin, and the frightening size of him gave her second thoughts about consummating their marriage. Never would she be able to take all of him. This was a mistake. She lurched up from the bed, intending to flee.