The Bard (Highland Heroes #5) - Maeve Greyson Page 0,20
that? I would hear ye say those words since ye’re known to be a man who thrives on loving a woman, then tossing her aside like stripped bones for the dogs.”
This warrior she needed, this man she hoped to claim for all time, didn’t hesitate, just tightened his arms around her. A low throated groan, more like a growl in the back of his throat, rumbled as he spoke. “No woman has ever held such a power over me as ye do.” He shook his head. “I fear I shall never escape ye, my fiery love.” His gaze searched her face, his brow furrowed with the effort. “And I swear by all that’s holy ye shall never escape me.” Then he kissed her, sealing the oath with a fire and a fury she had never known.
It was done. He had said the words—or at least implied them. Sorcha cast aside all her careful plotting and melted into him, wishing they were already wed so he might teach her the pleasures of a husband’s touch. Merciful heavens, how she burned for him. She longed to learn every secret he knew.
“That better be the kiss of a betrothal,” roared a voice loud enough to shake every stone in the keep.
Senses reeling and knees weak, Sorcha held tight to Sutherland as he lifted his head and smiled down at her. “Yer father isna a verra subtle man, ye ken?”
“That he is not,” she admitted, feeling suddenly very shy. She regained her footing and attempted to pull away.
“Nay, m’love.” His hold tightened around her. He turned them toward the banister overlooking the hall below and lifted a hand. “My offer for yer daughter has been accepted. Lady Sorcha has agreed to be mine.”
“Thank God Almighty,” Chieftain Greyloch boomed, then applauded long and loud until servants rushed in through every archway. “My daughter is at last betrothed!” he shouted. “She is betrothed! Tonight’s feast must be a fitting celebration.”
“He makes me sound as though I were as desirable as the plague,” she said dryly as she faked a smile and waved at the cheering folk below.
Sutherland chuckled, then went uncomfortably quiet, making her forget the noisiness on the ground floor. Had the realization of what he had just done hit him full force and changed his mind?
A nauseating flutter of impending doom hit her. She swallowed hard, trying her best to read his expression. The worrisome fluttering increased as neither his eyes nor his face betrayed his thoughts. Turning away and putting some distance between them, she wondered if her carefully laid plan had already soured worse than cream left overlong in the larder. “If ye wish for release, all ye need do is say it now.” She kept her gaze locked on the icy rain sliding down the windows. She would rather spend the rest of her life alone than be tethered to a man who resented her for stealing his freedom. “I prefer to deal with the embarrassment of a jilting sooner rather than later, if ye dinna mind.”
He came up behind her and, after a heartbeat’s hesitation that nearly killed her, slid both arms around her. With a gentle but firm pull, he tugged her back against his chest and pressed his cheek to hers. “I dinna wish for release, but I do have some concerns.”
It was hard to concentrate with him holding her so. She rested her hands atop the shelf of his arms, struggling to regain her control. “Concerns?” She flinched at the tremor in her voice. “What concerns?” she asked with stronger conviction.
A deep intake of breath shifted him against her. He tightened his hold as he released it with a heavy sigh. “I never thought to take a wife and settle down. I’m not so sure I know how—nor what sort of husband I shall be.” Another strained sound grumbled deep in his throat. “I swear I shall do my best by ye, but I dinna ken how good my best will be.”
“Do ye fear ye canna manage faithfulness?” Never would she tolerate prowling ways. Nor would she be played for a fool. But would she be enough for a man used to having his way with so many women? “Is yer interest lost once the conquest is over?” She had heard of men like that—Jenny’s father had been rumored to be such a rogue and had readily abandoned Jenny’s mother even before his daughter was born.
Sutherland turned her in his arms and trapped her in the intensity