The Recruit Read online

  “I don’t want to lie on top of you, so we’re going to need to be a little creative until the babe comes.”

  She made a sharp sound, her back arching as he probed her a little harder. He rocked his hips, readying her with little nudges.

  He liked to make her moan. Liked to make her head fall back and her lips part as she begged him to ease her agony. But that wasn’t what he wanted right now. He didn’t want to tease her, her wanted to love her. He wanted to hold her gaze as he entered her, as she took him into her body. As she took him into her heart.

  “Look at me, Mary.”

  Their eyes locked. Then slowly—agonizingly slowly—he pushed inside her. Inch by inch, he buried himself in the wet, velvety heat of her body.

  It felt so damned good, sensation roared through him like a lightning rod. He could have groaned. But he didn’t. He was too focused on the woman before him. He would remember this moment forever. He would never forget how it felt to look into her eyes as he entered her and see the overwhelming emotion squeezing his chest mirrored in deep aquamarine. They were bound together, and just for right now he could believe nothing could ever break them apart.

  When he’d gone as far as he could go, when he was buried to the hilt in the tight grip of her body, he stilled, held her gaze, and nudged a little deeper, bringing a startled gasp to her lips.

  “Kenneth …!”

  “I love you,” he said. “Let me show you.”

  And then he began to move. Slowly and gently, in long, languid strokes. For the first time in his life, Kenneth made love to a woman. He told her with his body how much she meant to him.

  Mary was in heaven. Her husband had roused her passion, taken her to higher peaks of pleasure than she’d every imagined, but she had never expected anything like this.

  The raging firestorm of lust had given way to a slow, deep burn that proved just as hot and even more devastating. There was not a part of her that he left untouched, or unclaimed. He possessed her body, her soul, with each long stroke.

  He gave no quarter, holding her gaze to his. It was impossible to look away from the emotion she saw burning there. She devoured it like a greedy child, burying it deep in her heart where it would always be safe. Where no one could ever take it away.

  She didn’t want it to end. But the feel of him, so big and full inside her, was too good. And it had been too long. Her body responded.

  She lifted her hips to meet the gentle rhythm of his thrusts, increasing the speed as the sensations built inside her.

  She gasped, moaned, cried as his thrusts grew longer, deeper, harder. He circled his hips, stirring her into a passionate frenzy.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing him closer, wanting to increase the friction and the pressure. He moved his free hands to her bottom, gripping her harder, steadying her as the force of his thrusting intensified.

  Everything moved, jarred by the fierce pounding of his body into hers.

  It felt so good she couldn’t stand it. She arched her back, feeling her body clenching, gripping him harder and harder.

  His face was a mask of strain, every muscle bunched and coiled. His arms flexed and the muscles lining his stomach stood out in stark relief.

  “God, I’m going to come,” he grit out from between clenched teeth.

  The knot of tightly wound muscles unwound as she spiraled into an abyss of pleasure so intense it stole her breath.

  He stilled and cried out. She felt the flood of heat fill her as his release mixed with the spasming wave of her own.

  Her legs fell from his waist. He bent over her, drained, as if he’d just run a long race. Collapsing on the bed, he dragged her up alongside him and held her in the circle of his arm. In a tangle of damp naked limbs, with her cheek pressed to his chest, their baby nestled between them, and her palm resting on his heart, she knew she’d finally found it. It had taken six and twenty years, but Mary had the love she’d been searching for her whole life.

  Twenty-three

  “When will you be back?”

  Kenneth glanced back over his shoulder at the naked woman lying on the bed tangled in bedsheets. With her mussed hair and pouty bruised lips, Mary looked as though she’d just been very thoroughly ravished—which she had been. But it didn’t stop him from wanting to climb right back into bed and make love to her again.

  It seemed he could think of nothing else. He had an almost desperate need to bind her to him. It was as if the more he made love to her, the stronger their love would be to weather the storm that was hovering on the not-so-distant horizon.

  But if anything, it was making him more anxious about all that he had to lose. What if she never forgave him? He knew it was better to wait until she was somewhere safe to explain, but every instinct told him to tell her now. That every day he waited made his betrayal worse.

  Unable to help himself, he set his knee on the bed, bent over her, and slowly kissed the pout from her lips. When she responded, threading her fingers through his hair and drawing his mouth closer to entwine her tongue with his, a shaft of heat ignited inside him and threatened to drag him under.

  He had to tear his mouth away. “A couple of days. You won’t even have time to notice I’m gone.” He smiled, unable to resist teasing her. She’d been moving furiously around here the past few days since they’d arrived at Huntlywood Castle, like a bird building a nest. “Though perhaps you will have crenelated the tower house by then, and I won’t recognize the place.”

  “Wretch.” She tossed a pillow at him. “Sir Adam said I was free to make the place as comfortable as I like for my stay here. It’s been some time since anyone has stayed in these upper chambers.”

  “And you’ve taken to the task with enthusiasm.”

  “Since it seems I will have much time on my own, what else is there for me to do?”

  He felt a stab of guilt and instantly sobered. “I’ll come as often as I can. I know it’s not the same as being at the castle, but it won’t be for long.”

  If she only knew just how short her stay would be. He hoped that in a matter of days—a week, no longer—he would have her safely ensconced in Scotland. Mary could stay with Helen and Campbell’s wife at Dunstaffnage. Close enough for him to reach her when the babe came. Later, he would send her north to Skelbo, the castle he kept for his brother.

  She sat up, dragging the sheet along with her. Untangling a few strands of golden-blond hair from her lashes, she tucked it behind her ear. “I shouldn’t complain. I know it could be far worse. I’m fortunate to be this close to the castle. At Ponteland I would see you far less.”

  “Sir Adam will be here to keep you company for a few more days.” He knew the answer, but he thought he’d try anyway. “Are you sure you don’t wish to reconsider? France …” He paused. “It might be a good idea. It will be safer for you there.”

  Her expression fell, her eyes instantly growing large and round. “I don’t want to go to France, I want to stay here with you and Davey. I thought you wanted that, too.”

  “I do,” he assured her. “It’s just that I worry about your safety while I am away. When war breaks out—”

  “We have plenty of time for that. The king hasn’t even arrived yet. When you leave for Scotland, I will go farther south. To my dower estate in Kent if need be. But don’t send me away now—it’s too soon.”

  He understood only too well what she meant. It was too soon. Their love was too new, too fragile. It needed time to strengthen before it was tested by distance—or deception, damn it. But it was time he didn’t have.

  He leaned over and gave her a light peck on the cheek so he wouldn’t be tempted to linger. But the soft, velvety skin and faint floral scent worked its own magic. He wanted to sink into her. To inhale her sweet femininity.

  He had to drag himself away. “Very well. You win. But only because I’m selfish and want you near me for as long as possible.”

  A wide smile spread over her face, causing his chest to expand. “Are