But the second time? It was no coincidence, because this time he’d commanded her to open her mouth, and like a simpleton, she’d gaped her mouth open and let him slide height over hers.
Just the memory had her shivering. It was …
It was undignified. That’s what it was. And she’d tell him so if he ever tried to do it again.
Feeling marginally better now that she had that matter squared away, she turned her thoughts to the pressing issue of marriage. Hers.
It was true that the laird filled a lot of the criteria that she and Mother Serenity had come up with. He was undoubtedly strong. He seemed awfully possessive of those he considered under his protection. It was true he had a large army. One had only to look at the numbers in the courtyard and how hard they trained.
The marriage would be equally, if not more, beneficial to him. Aye, she’d have his protection, and he had the might to defend a holding such as Neamh Álainn, but he gained wealth and land that was rivaled only by that of the king.
Did she trust him to hold such power?
She hadn’t meant to impugn his honor. She’d been angry, but she didn’t really believe that he was a dishonorable man. If she did, she’d be trying a lot harder to escape. Nay, she was giving serious consideration to his proposal. Or her proposal. Or whoever had issued it.
She hadn’t come into contact with many men in her lifetime. Only at an early age before she’d been taken to the abbey in the middle of the night and sequestered there for many years. But she remembered the fear and the absolute knowledge that her life would be immeasurably changed if she fell into the wrong hands.
She didn’t feel that fear with Ewan McCabe. Oh, she feared him, but she didn’t fear mistreatment from him. He’d had ample opportunity—and desire—to strangle her, and yet he’d held his temper each time. Even when he wasn’t convinced of her role in his son’s abduction and rescue, he hadn’t made a single move to harm her.
She was fast coming to the conclusion that he was all bluster.
The thought made her smile. The McCabe men did like to frown. But Alaric had stood with her even after muttering blasphemies against her and all women. Caelen … well, so far they had a mutual agreement to avoid each other. Now he frightened her. He didn’t much like her, and he didn’t care if she realized that or not.
Was she insane for considering marriage to the laird?
She stood by the window and watched as shadows darkened the rolling hills that surrounded the keep. In the distance, dogs barked as they brought in the sheep. The purple hue of dusk had settled over the land. Low to the ground, light fog rose, covering the hills like a mother tucking in her child for the night.
This would be her life. Her husband. Her keep. Her clan. No longer would she fear that at any moment she’d be found and forced to marry a brute of a man who cared naught for anything but the riches she’d bring with the birth of an heir.
She would have a life, one se’d nearly given up hope of ever having, and she’d have a family. Crispen. The laird. His brothers. His clan.
Oh, but the longing was fierce inside her.
She turned her eyes heavenward and whispered a fervent prayer. “Please, God. Let this be the right decision.”
CHAPTER 11
The lass was submerged in a full tub of water, head thrown back, eyes closed, and an expression of sheer bliss curved the contours of her face.
Ewan watched from the door, silent so he didn’t disturb her. He should make his presence known. But he didn’t. He was enjoying the unimpeded view far too much.
Her hair was pinned atop her head, but loose tendrils drifted down the slim column of her neck, clinging damply to her skin. His gaze drifted along the lines of those strands. He was particularly fascinated by the ones that rested on the curves of her breasts.
Bonny breasts she had. As bonny as the rest of her. She was all soft curves and lines, pleasing to the eye. She shifted, and for a moment he thought he was caught, but she never opened her eyes. She arched just enough that the pink tips of her nipples lifted through the water.
His mouth went dry. His cock went rigid and strained against his trews. He curled and uncurled his fingers, unsettled by the fierce reaction she stirred within him.
He was hard and aching. Want was fierce within him. There was nothing to prevent him from charging across the room, yanking her from the tub and laying her on the bed. She was his to take. From the moment she’d set foot on his lands, she was his. Whether she married him or not.
Still, the perverse part of his nature wanted her to come to him. He wanted her to accept her fate and bind herself to him of her own accord. Aye, the taking was far more satisfying when the lass was willing. Not that he couldn’t have her willing in a matter of seconds …
A frightened gasp echoed across the room. He frowned as he stared into her open eyes. He didn’t want the lass afraid of him.
She didn’t stay afraid for long.
Sparking with outrage, she bolted to her feet. Water sloshed over the side of the wooden tub and sluiced down her body, accentuating each of those delectable curves he had just been admiring.
“How dare you!”
She stood, trembling in the water, not a stitch of clothing to obstruct a complete view of her body. Ah, she was a delectable sight, spitting fury, her breasts thrust proudly out. Dark curls nestled at the apex of her legs, guarding the sweet mysteries that lay beneath.
And then, as if realizing she’d given him a lot more to look at by bolting to her feet, she let out a squeak and promptly dropped back into the tub. Both arms covered her chest and she hunched forward, hiding as much of herself as possible.
“Get out!” she roared.
He blinked in surprise and then grinned his appreciation of her bellow. She might be a slip of a thing, and she looked deceptively harmless, but she was a force to be reckoned with. Just ask his men, who were all understandably wary around her now.
She ordered Gannon, Diormid, and Cormac around relentlessly. At the end of the day he was treated to a list of complaints about their duties to guard—and placate—their mistress. Cormac had the idea that she should take over the training of their troops. Ewan thought she had a vicious streak and that she was merely retaliating over the fact that they’d been given the task of looking after her.
She was not above ordering around those who stumbled into her path either. And if questioned, she merely gave everyone that sweet, innocent smile and told them that according to their laird, she would soon be the mistress of the keep. Accordingly, it was their duty to take their instructions from her.