Page 43 of Scot of Desire
“Bran? Bran!” Ilyssa was hissing his name.
For a minute, Bran saw them together in his mind. They were in the disused barracks again together, rolling around on those cushions. He was inside of her, listening to her moan his name, her hands toying in his hair. She arched her back, oh, how he loved it when she did that, raising her legs higher, as if she could not get enough of him being inside of her.
“Would ye wake up!”
The sudden anger made his eyelids fling open.
The dream dissipated fast. He was suddenly aware of the heaviness at the back of his head, the growing bruise and the feeling of ropes around his wrists. He angled his head, sluggishly, the effort ridiculously hard as he turned to face Ilyssa, blinking.
They were in the barracks from his dream, only the room was not lit with candles now. The very early-morning sun was just beginning to stream in through one high window. It was still grey, the day overcast with dullish light.
Ilyssa was white as a ghost, her eyes darting from side to side, her wrists tied around one of the weapons racks.
“Ilyssa?” Bran managed to say her name, his mouth dry. “How –”
“I was attacked as I tried tae go back tae the chamber,” she said in a rush, clearly reading his mind. “They brought ye here a few minutes later. Ye havenae woken all night.” She blinked. He saw the familiar sign of her fighting tears, but those tears she would not let fall.
He did his best to push himself up, a difficult task as his hands were bound around the racking on the other side of the wall. Dizzy from the blow to his head, he nearly fell over again.
“Oh!” Ilyssa gasped at his sudden movements, but he settled himself and nodded at her. “Bran, what dae ye think they want?”
“I have a good guess. I just hope I am wrong.” Bran cursed at himself, remembering Catreena’s warning that had perhaps come too late. He and Ilyssa had been too obvious. If the love between them was plain to see, and if Cillian and Laird Gilroy were so fixated on making this wedding take place, then they could be about to force the matter, before Bran could cause any further trouble and before Tad could return.
Bran’s stomach clenched tight with fear as he looked at Ilyssa, the tears still in her eyes. He could have promised her that nothing would happen, again, but he knew now how foolish that sounded.
This is out of me control.
He pulled sharply against the racking, his senses coming back to him fully, but the racking would not budge, and the ropes just cut into his skin.
“Bran. Bran!” She tried to get his attention. “The shadows.”
He turned around, in time to see the door was half open and two shadows were moving toward the opening. Two familiar figures walked in. The grandiose figure of Laird Gilroy was first, though he had taken off the fur cloak he so often wore hanging from his shoulders. Behind him was Cillian. The easy and charming smile he so often wore was a far cry from his expression now. He was glowering at Bran, as if he could kill him with one look.
“Ah, at long last.” Laird Gilroy held out his hands, his voice grand as if he was on a stage. “Ye have woken just in time.”
“For what?” Bran looked about the room. “Why are ye holding us prisoner here?”
“Imagine me surprise when me son’s new bride turned up already in love with another man. Besotted.” Laird Gilroy added this word with disgust. He walked toward Bran but hovered justout of reach so as Bran stepped forward, intent on fighting, the ropes held him back and Gilroy laughed. “Shared yer bed too, didnae she? Well, from what I hear, a bed wasnae so much involved.”
“They were in here.” Cillian spoke up. His glower now turned toward Ilyssa. “I saw them.” There was hunger in his eyes, a hunger that made nausea rise in Bran’s throat.
From the way Ilyssa moved back, skulking against the racks, she had much the same feeling.
We were seen.
Bran thought back to the way he and Ilyssa had made love in this room. It was with great passion, heat, and need, their hands unable to stop touching one another as their bodies came together. The thought that Cillian might have watched them from that high window repulsed him.
That was our own moment. Nae his.
“Well, shall we get tae it?” Gilroy turned to his son and clasped his hands together. “I’ll get the priest.”
“Priest?” Bran and Ilyssa said together. “Ye’re mad.” Bran put two and two together fast. “Ye cannae force her tae marry ye like this,” he said to Cillian. “Ye intend tae, dae ye nae? This ground isnae holy. It is nae law abiding, nae tae mention the bride is tied up.”
“We’ll make sure she agrees.” Cillian pulled out a blade. He cleaned it for a second on the edge of his jerkin, then he held it to Bran’s throat.
“Nay!” Ilyssa screamed so loudly that the walls of the barracks shook. Bran stayed as still as possible, staring into the cold eyes of Cillian.
“Kill me, and ye lose yer bargaining power,” he whispered to Cillian.
