Debbie Mazzuca - Lord of the Isles

“If you have yer mind set, my lady, Connor wil accom

pany you. Mari, we must see to Laird Aidan’s room. He’l be here for a wee while I’m thinkin’.”

Ali closed her hand over the smooth wood of the banis

ter and Connor took a light hold of her arm as they slowly made their way down the stairs.

“Why wil ye no’ just wed Lady MacLean?” yel ed a man in the hal .

Ali cringed, and Connor tightened his grip on her elbow.

“Aye . . . Aye.” The words repeated over and over again until Ali thought it would never end. She heard Rory’s deep voice rumble over the gathered crowd. “I canna’ do it. I’m marryin’ Lady Aileanna.”

Ali closed her eyes and slowly released the breath

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she hadn’t realized she held. Aside from the fact he’d just announced they would marry, and didn’t seem too con cerned she had told him they wouldn’t, she was relieved. Happy he hadn’t al owed his men to force him into a union with Moira MacLean.

Silence met his announcement until someone shouted in disgust, “Ye risk our lives to wed a thief.”

Grumbles of discontent fol owed.

Trembling with anger, Ali stepped careful y off the bottom stair. How dare they question him after al he’d done for them? The man spent every waking hour seeing to their needs, their wel -being. She caught a glimpse of Rory in his plaid, towering above them on the dais. The man took her breath away. He was magnificent, and she couldn’t help but wonder if it was true that highlanders wore nothing beneath their kilts. Watching him standing there, powerful and in command, she knew she wanted to find out. Aidan, Fergus, and Iain stood with him. Rory laid a hand on his brother’s arm to stop him from the protest he appeared ready to deliver. With a brief shake of his head, Rory looked down at the crowd. “Lady Aileanna is no thief. She thought to protect the flag from the MacLeans is al . Misguided she may have been, but nothing more. You condemn her, Donald, but I seem to recal you’d no’

have yer leg if no’ fer her.”

“Aye, and ’tis on account of the magik she wields as a witch that she heals as she does,” someone shouted from the back of the hal . Several more chimed in, their ayes re

verberating off the stone wal s.

Connor tugged on her arm. “Mayhap it would be best if ye went back to yer room, my lady.”

Ali shook her head. It was difficult to hear what they said, but she needed to know how the clan felt about her. She 220

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edged closer to the entrance of the hal . Rory must have sensed her presence and their eyes met across the room. He held her gaze with his and said, “I wil na’ have Lady Aileanna’s name besmirched. She wil soon be the lady of Dunvegan, and wil be treated as such, or you’l answer to me.”

“But . . . but what does she bring to us?”

She saw the glint in his eyes and the slight curve of his sensual lips. “’Tis no’ what she brings to the clan, but what she brings to me that I’m thinkin’ on.”

Ribald laughter greeted his remark and some of the ten

sion in the hal dissipated. Ali rol ed her eyes and he winked at her, causing a heated flutter in her bel y. Then he drew his gaze from hers and returned his attention to his men. A part of her wanted to believe what they shared would one day take precedence over al else, but she knew with a man like Rory, it would never happen.

“Connor, if you don’t mind I’d like to go down by the loch.” She kept her voice low so no one would realize she’d been there, but she needn’t have bothered. Already talk of the upcoming battle drew their attention.

“Aye, we can try to manage it if ye’d like, my lady.”

Rory swung his legs over the ledge of boulders onto the stone beach of the loch, fighting a smile when he spotted Aileanna. Like a sea nymph washed up on shore, the sun

beams danced in the waves of her long hair. She leaned against a rock with her gown hiked to her knees, her feet in the water.

“I’m certain I told Mrs. Mac to keep you in yer bed fer the day,” he grumbled as he came to stand over her. Her eyes fluttered open and a slight smile curved her lips. “You did, but you should know by now I don’t fol ow orders very wel .”

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“Aye, I see that.” Rory crouched beside her and took her injured foot in his hand. “It doesna’ look as bad as it did.”

With a light touch, he traced the bruises.

“The water’s cold. It helps with the swel ing.” She squirmed when he trailed his fingers farther up her long leg, and a soft sound of pleasure escaped her parted lips. Lowering her foot, he came to sit at her side and bent his head to claim her mouth. She curled her fingers around his neck, deepening their kiss. The scent of her sun-warmed skin and the feel of her lush curves enveloped him. Cup

ping her face with his hand, he tilted her head and delved deeper with his tongue, tasting her sweetness. He wanted to devour her, to take her away and never let her go, just the two of them—no battle looming over their heads, no clan who depended on him for their every need. But just the thought of those demands was enough to make him pul away from her.

He rested his forehead against hers. “If yer no’ careful I’l have you on yer back down here by the loch.”

Her long fingers stroked him beneath his plaid. His cock, as stiff and hard as the rock at her back, jerked at her delicate touch.

“Grass . . . in the grass would be better,” she said in a husky voice.

“Aye, and to be sure it would give the clan somethin’

more to talk aboot.”

“Right . . . I . . . uh . . . forgot.”

He groaned as she released him, then nibbled at her neck. “Why doona’ I take you to yer room and we can con tinue this there?”

“Is that your subtle way of getting me to stay in bed?”

“Aye, would it work?” He brushed the hair from her beautiful, flushed face.

“It would,” she said, running the pad of her thumb over his 222

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mouth. “But could we stay here for a little while longer? It seems a shame to miss out on such a beautiful day.”

“Aye. The loch brings out the best in you, lass. Yer in a much better mood. Mayhap we should set you up down here.”

Aileanna pul ed a face. “Very funny. Almost as funny as what you did in the hal .”

Rory grinned. “What did I do in the hal ?”

She rol ed her eyes. “Oh, I don’t know—maybe your little announcement that we were getting married, even though I told you we weren’t.” She tapped his chest. Laughing, Rory brought her finger to his lips. “You ken you want to marry me, mo chridhe, yer just too stubborn to admit it.”

“Stubborn? This has nothing to do with me being stub

born. I won’t marry you, Rory. I don’t want a husband who married me because he felt he had no choice, who felt he was responsible for me.” She shook her head. “What kind of marriage would that be?”

“Better than most,” he commented dryly. Rory looked out over the shimmering waters of the loch before he turned to her. “You want me to wed Moira then, is that what yer tel in’ me?”

She averted her eyes. With his finger beneath her chin he brought her gaze back to his. “Answer me, Aileanna.”

“No . . . no, I don’t want you to marry her. There, are you happy now?”

He brushed his mouth over hers. “Aye. The banns wil be read, and we’l marry after we’ve met the MacDonald on the field.”

“I didn’t say yes, Rory.”

“You wil .”

She shook her head, arms folded across her chest. “You know, I have a hard time understanding this feud with the MacDonalds. Why can’t you meet face-to-face and try to work it out?”