Page 50 of Awoken
Slowly, he started to move inside her.
And as he did so, his gaze fused with Leanna’s once more, and her mouth curved into a sensual smile. “Ah,” she breathed, her voice full of sultry promise. “I understand now what all the fuss is about.”
23
In the Shadows
THEY LAY TOGETHER in silence for a long while after coupling. Ross had rolled off Leanna, taking her with him so that she rested against his chest. He must have dozed off, for the rise of his ribcage slowed and deepened.
But Leanna didn’t sleep.
How could she when the most magical event of her life had just occurred?
To think she could have missed out on experiencing this? If she’d remained at Kilbride, she would never have known Ross’s touch. And worse still, if she’d become MacKinnon’s wife, she would have equated brutality with lust.
Whatever happens now, I’m content.
But was she? Ross had shown her another world, one she didn’t want to leave just yet. It had been her first time, and he’d gone slowly and gently in an effort to make her comfortable. It had hurt, yet the pain had been fleeting.
The way he’d moved inside her, and the sensations that had followed, had been a revelation. She’d hadn’t realized her body was capable of giving her such feeling. Afterward, pleasure had built in aching, rippling waves that made her groan and sigh. She knew they’d just scratched the surface though, that there was so much more pleasure to be experienced—that something wondrous lay just out of reach. She’d felt as if she’d arched toward it, brushed it with her fingertips.
She wanted to fall into Ross, to spiral through oblivion with him.
But as she rested against his naked chest, her throat tightened while sadness rose within. They were running out of time. Leanna squeezed her eyes closed pushing back tears. Tonight was a frozen moment, something magical that neither of them had counted on.
With the rising of the dawn, the enchantment would shatter and time would march on. If MacKinnon ever caught up with them, there was a real chance that she would never lie with Ross Campbell ever again.
The thought made an ache rise under Leanna’s breastbone. Life could be so cruel—to show her something so wondrous and then to rip it from her would be more than she could bear. And yet some things were out of her control.
“Ye have a visitor, MacKinnon.”
Duncan jerked up his head and glared blearily at where Broderick stood in the doorway to his solar. The clan-chief had fallen asleep upon his high-backed chair before the hearth. “At this hour?” he rasped. It was late, the middle of the night in fact. He should be slumbering in his bed, not receiving visitors. Who the devil would disturb him now?
Broderick nodded, his face giving nothing away.
“Well … tell whoever it is that I’ll see them in the morning.”
“Ye will want to see this man,” Broderick replied, his manner as phlegmatic as ever. “He is known to us all … and brings word from yer brother.”
Duncan went still, the last vestiges of sleep sloughing off him. “Mybastardbrother?” he snarled.
“Craeg has taken Campbell and Lady Leanna prisoner,” Broderick replied, ignoring the correction. Yer visitor is one of his band. He comes bearing terms.”
At Duncan’s feet, Bran stirred. The wolfhound gave a soft whine as it picked up on the tension that suddenly rippled through the chamber. For once, Duncan didn’t reach out to ruffle the dog’s ears. Instead, his attention was wholly upon the warrior who’d taken Ross Campbell’s place as his right-hand. He wasn’t as fond of Broderick as he had been of Campbell; the man was as difficult to read as a granite boulder.
“Show him in then.”
With a nod, Broderick stepped back and jerked his chin to someone who stood just out of sight.
A heartbeat later, a tall man with greying dark hair, sharp features, and a hard gaze stepped forward. Clad in well-fitting hunting leathers, the newcomer stared him down as he entered.
Likewise, Duncan glared back, a chill seeping through him.
Him.
MacKinnon rose to his full height before the fire, while at his feet Bran started to growl low in his throat. The dog had sensed the animosity between the two men, the tension that flooded the solar.
His brother’s emissary was unarmed, yet he carried himself with the calm self-assurance of a man who didn’t need a weapon to feel confident.
