Page 49 of A Knight To Call My Own
Her back arched. Her hands clenched in the bedding. She wanted more of…what? His name came rushing from her mouth whilst she teetered on the brink of her sanity. He stopped and looked up at her. Everything surrounding her in a swirling heat of sensations halted in an instant. Time passed slowly, as though the days and nights had of a sudden all become as one whilst their gazes held one to the other. He moved atop her as he took her legs to wrap them around his hips.
“I am sorry, lass,” he whispered almost reverently like she was his most prized treasure, “but there is no easy way to do this that will not hurt you.”
He plunged inside, breaking the barrier that was the proof of her virginity. “Ian!” His name left her lips, yet again, even whilst she clung to him. He held her, unmoving. Stroking her hair with fervent soothing words, he murmured to her in both English and Gaelic. His murmurings were meant to lessen her pain. And lessen it did. Slowly, he began to show her the rhythm known to couples throughout time itself. If she had had an inkling of what she had been missing, she would have asked him to take her sooner.
Onward and upward he took her, to heights she had never thought possible. Lynet knew not what force overtook her own body, but she lost all control as a startling energy consumed her like the burning of the sun. Every piece of her very soul tightened. With one final thrust, Ian called out her name, and she shattered like a piece of fragile glass breaking into a million fragments. She would never be the same again. She was at last his.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
A piercing whistle slashed throughthe quietness of the morning air, much like an ax descending upon a piece of dry wood. Calum opened his eyes to peer into the mist surrounding him. The morn was chilly, giving a clue nature would not be cooperating with his plans for fair weather. ’Twas only summer, and yet, this morn gave the impression winter would be upon them sooner than expected this year, or so Calum surmised.
Standing, he wrapped his plaid closer around his shoulders to find some remnant of warmth. Another warning signal echoed, alerting Calum someone was fast approaching. He attempted to determine from which direction the sound originated, but ’twas difficult to ascertain, given he could not see far in front of him.
The shadow of a horse with its rider began to take shape on the outer edges of the clearing. He kicked at Lachlan, who repeated the gesture to the man next to him as the rest in camp began rousing from their slumber. Lazy louts! ’Twas no small wonder he had not been cut down whilst he slept, whether by an assailant or Lachlan, who would like nothing better than to replace him as laird. The camp finally began to come to life when they realized they were not alone and had an unwelcome visitor in their midst.
Calum’s hand reached for his sword ’til the stranger pulled on the reins, halting his steed, and held up a gloved hand in surrender. Calum relaxed, but kept up his guard. There was no sense in losing more of his men than he already had from the fiasco of losing his prisoner.
The rider dismounted. Calum’s sword sang out as he pulled the heavy steel from its sheath and pointed the blade in the direction of the intruder, who began to advance towards him. “That is far enough. State your business,” he ordered loudly.
An amused chuckle emerged from the depths of the cloaked figure, who swept back the hood of his cape. “I mean you no harm and come unarmed,” he answered snidely.
“Is that wise?”
“I take my chances that the proposition I have for you will be to your liking.”
Calum nodded to one of his men. “Search him.”
A grin split the man’s features as he again held up his hands whilst his body was patted down for weapons. “I spoke no falsehood.”
“Then you will not be surprised if I ensure you come here in good faith,” Calum replied knowingly. “I take no chances with strangers who enter my camp.”
“I would do the same, if I was in your position.”
His man completed his inspection, and Calum returned his sword to his scabbard. “Why are you here?”
“Direct and to the point, are you not? You are a man to my own liking. No reason for us to indulge in idle chit chat then, eh?”
“I have little time, nor patience, for such things. Again, what do you want of me?”
“I have, or shall I say, Urquhart has, something you desire. I want to help you get it.”
Calum folded his arms across his chest. “And just how do you think you know what I want, or who I am, for that matter?”
The man pointed to the log near the fire. “May I?”
“Suit yourself.”
“My thanks,” he said, taking a seat and holding out his hands to the fire.
Calum stood where he was but his patience was wearing thin. “Comfortable?”
“Aye.”
“Who the hell are you?” he roared with a scowl, wanting to get down to this man’s business.
“My name is Edric, lately of Urquhart,” he answered with a sly grin. “I’ve been holding on to the estate and running it for my sister.”
“From what I can see, you have not been doing a very good job of it.”
