Page 5 of Sins of the Highlander

As the Sight faded, pain seared through her brain. It always did when she was touched by her gift, but it paled in comparison to the nameless hurt he bore. Elspeth reached up a tentative hand to comfort him, palming the cheek that wasn’t covered with woad.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her closer. Her lips parted. His tongue swept in. Her belly clenched, and a warm glow settled between her legs.

He left her lips and began kissing her chin, her cheeks, her neck. “Ach! Ye’re sweet, lass.”

Pity dissipated like morning mist. Instead, little wisps of pleasure followed his mouth’s path. The stubble of his beard grazed the tops of her breasts, and her nipples tightened almost painfully. She sucked her breath over her teeth to keep from crying out in pleasure and surprise when his palm covered her breast, the pressure sweet even through the stiff boning of her pink silk bodice.

She’d been sickened by the thought of submitting to Lachlan Drummond’s intimate caress. Now her whole body thrummed with life. She tingled with awareness as Rob touched her.

She’d never understood how a maiden could allow herself to be ruined before. Unruly, unwelcome urges seared through her. The sensations were so unlike her, she wondered if they were somehow part of what she’d Seen of the copper-haired woman.

To her amazement, she ached to lie down beside this man. To feel his body cover hers. To give to him what Lachlan would have taken.

This was madness, but she couldn’t bring herself to end it. With each kiss, his sadness lessened and her pleasure increased. She’d never dreamed she’d experience such astonishing delight.

Only a little longer, she told herself as bliss sparked across her skin. His kiss was like a draught of heady wine. The discomfort that usually accompanied the Sight was leaving, but her head still felt fuzzy. Was it clouding her judgment?

One kiss more. Then I’ll stop.

She splayed her fingers across his chest. His muscles were like a brazen shield beneath his shirt and plaid. He growled with satisfaction. She smoothed her palms up to his shoulders and down his arms.

And encountered sticky wetness on the left side.

“You’re bleeding,” she whispered. One of the crossbow bolts must have found its mark.

He dipped his head and mumbled into the well between her breasts. “’Tis nothing.”

It was enough to recall her to sanity. To serve Queen Mary, she must be either a pure maid or the wife of a nobleman. If she couldn’t remain the first, she’d never be the last. She pulled away from him.

“Truly, ’tis naught but a scratch. Come, lass.”

He folded her into his arms again and delivered a string of kisses along the curve of her jaw.

“No!” she said

When he tried to kiss her again, she delivered a ringing slap to his cheek. Reason flooded her mind again. Perhaps he was called “Mad Rob” because he could entice others to insanity. She jerked herself out of his arms.

“Now keep away from me,” she ordered.

He chuckled mirthlessly. “Lass, I’ve killed dozens of men. Do ye really think ye can stop me from whatever I may decide to do with you?”

He took a step toward her, his eyes glittering fiercely in the dark.

Chapter 2

Rob advanced steadily, steeling himself to ignore the way her brows drew together in fear.

“A man doesna name a horse he might have to eat come winter,” he said, his voice silky with menace. “And he doesna befriend one he’s taken hostage.”

“Then why did ye kiss me?” she asked, scuttling backward over the cave floor.

He stopped. It was a fair question, and he had no answer. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He’d thought that part of him dead. Oh, he still woke with a cock-stand, and occasionally the thing rose of its own accord when he caught sight of a well-turned ankle or the swell of a breast, but he always tamped down the urge. He’d not truly desired any woman since Fiona.

Then he found this Elspeth Stewart in his arms, and all he wanted to do was rut her blind.

He curled his lip in a snarl. He didn’t want to feel those things for anyone but his wife. Certainly not for Lachlan Drummond’s woman.

When he first conceived this plan, in the blackest part of his mind he’d thought to wound Drummond by ravishing his bride. But when it came down to the actual doing of the deed, he didn’t know if it was in him. Even if he was able to raise his cock long enough to take her maidenhead.