Debbie Mazzuca - Lord of the Isles

He met his brother’s concerned gaze above her head.

“Mayhap you can make her understand ’tis no’ her fault,”

Iain said.

She leaned back to look Rory in the eye. “The man is as crazy as his sister, and I’m glad you won’t be married to her, Rory. But you have to see, the clan wil hold me to blame if you lose this battle.” She loosened his hold on her and attempted to walk away, cursing when inadvertently she put weight on her injured foot. Rory swung her up and into his arms. “Yer a stubborn wench, Aileanna Graham, and you have a mouth as wicked as a mon.”

Her slight smile turned into a frown when she looked toward Dunvegan. “I don’t want to go inside, not if he’s there.”

“I’l no’ let him bother you, and he’l no’ be here fer long.”

Iain squeezed her arm. “Doona’ fret. I’l go in and dis

tract him.”

“Iain,” Rory cal ed after his brother, “I’l see Aileanna settled and then meet with you, Aidan, Cal um, and Fergus. We have much to discuss.”

LORD OF THE ISLES

229

“When do you leave?” she asked, plucking at the laces of his shirt.

“In four days. We’l make our stand at Skeabost.”

“How long wil you be gone?”

Rory entered the keep with an eye out for Cyril. He tightened his hold on Aileanna when he heard the man ranting in the hal . “I canna’ say,” he said, looking into her troubled eyes as he made his way up the stairs.

“Could you not at least try to speak to the MacDonald?”

“Aileanna, there’s no talkin’ to the mon. He’s a stubborn old fool who wil na’ listen to reason. He disputes our claim to Trotternish. ’Tis a long-standing feud that only ended when Brianna and I married and he used it as part of her dowry, but it was no’ his to begin with. Now he means to have it back.” He shook his head—the man was as mad as the one seated in his hal .

“How much property do you need? Aren’t the lives of your men more important than a useless stretch of land?”

she muttered as he opened the door to her chambers. Laying her on the bed, he set a hand on either side of her head and lowered his face to hers. “Do you no’ think if there was a way out of this I wouldna’ have found it? You doona’ ken me if you believe I’d put anythin’ above the lives of my clan.”

“I know you don’t,” she whispered. “Not even me.”

He narrowed his gaze on her. “Aileanna . . . What? ” he bel owed at whoever was rapping on the chamber door. Aidan entered the room with a surreptitious glance at Aileanna. “Sorry to disturb ye, cousin, but I think ye should come to the hal .”

Rory rubbed his hand along his jaw. “Aye, I’l come.”

He hesitated before leaving Aileanna, troubled by her words. He wanted to make her understand why he did what he did, but he was needed elsewhere. Touching her cheek, he said, “Rest.”

230

Debbie Mazzuca

“How’s yer lady?” Aidan asked when Rory joined him in the corridor outside her room.

“No’ verra happy with me. She thinks I should find a way to make peace with the MacDonald.”

Aidan shook his head. “Women, they doona’ ken the way of it.”

“Aye.” And Aileanna less than most. But how could she understand when she was not from their time? Rory feared she never would. “What’s goin’ on in the hal ?”

“I doona’ think we’re goin’ to get rid of MacLean so easily. The mon’s terrified to face his sister, and I wouldna’

be surprised to learn ’twas her who marked him.”

Rory frowned. “I didna’ consider that.”

“I ken the mark a woman leaves, and it has the look of it.”

“Familiar with it, are you?” He grinned. His cousin’s ex

ploits with the ladies were legendary.

Aidan’s gray eyes glinted with humor. “Aye, but of a dif

ferent kind—on the back, ye ken.”

Rory ignored his cousin’s quip, wondering how he’d been blind to what Moira MacLean had become. He shud dered to think he’d almost married her. But then again, she’d been a means to an end, a way for him to protect his clan. Now with the match out of the question, it was up to him to find a way to win the battle with the least amount of lives lost. “I’m thinkin’ I’m wel rid of that one.”

“Aye, I ken ye are, especial y considerin’ the woman yer replacin’ her with.”

Ali sat on her bed and wrapped the strips of linen around her foot, wincing when she pul ed too tight. She was deter mined to get to know the people of Dunvegan, and it wasn’t going to happen if she stayed shut up in her room. She had to go out amongst the people and somehow gain their trust. Ignoring the age-old fear of rejection that knotted her

LORD OF THE ISLES

231

stomach, she prepared for a visit with Maureen Chisholm and anyone else who would let her see to them. Consider ing Cyril MacLean’s ranting on the front step of the keep yesterday, she doubted there would be many. She brushed the thought aside, wishing she’d asked Mari when she’d brought her breakfast if Cyril remained at Dunvegan. Ali looked up when the door to her chambers creaked open to see Rory standing there. He looked tired, and the dark shadow on his jaw heightened his dangerous good looks. She shivered. He was dangerous—not someone you’d want to cross—but she didn’t fear him. He wouldn’t hurt her physical y, at least not intentional y, but he could break her heart.

“You’re tired,” she said, watching as he prowled toward her. The white shirt he wore contrasted with his deeply tanned skin, accentuating his powerful broad shoulders and the corded muscles beneath. He sat beside her. “Aye, ’twas a long night and promises to be a longer day. I’m sorry I wasna’ able to come to you last eve. ’Twas late, and I didna’ wish to disturb yer sleep.”

His heavy hand came to rest on her thigh. She’d missed him, and tried not to resent the time he spent away from her.

“That’s al right. I don’t expect you to spend al of your time with me. I know you’re busy.”

Her voice sounded petulant, even though she hadn’t meant it to. Ali didn’t add playing at your war games, however tempted she was. It wasn’t the time. This was no game, and she couldn’t make light of it. His reaction was fierce and swift. He had her backed against her pil ows before she had time to blink. “Do you no’

think I’d rather be with you?” He speared his long fin

gers through her hair, trapping her with his body. His mus

cles rippled beneath the fine fabric of his shirt.

“Rory, I—” He crushed her protest with a demanding kiss. Heat spiraled through her, pooling between her thighs. 232

Debbie Mazzuca

His tongue probed between her lips, dueling with hers for supremacy. Her breathing quickened, and she clutched at his shoulders.

Rory lifted his mouth from hers. “I want you now, mo chridhe, but this time I wil na’ be rushed.” He chuckled when she moaned in frustration, giving her a hard, fast kiss. “This night I’l love you long and wel .”

She brought her palm to his roughened jaw. “I’l hold you to that.”

He gave her a lecherous grin before his gaze went to her wrapped foot. “Mayhap ’twould be best if you stayed abed, Aileanna.”

“Why, is Cyril stil here?”

“Aye. The mon is no’ in a hurry to take his leave.”

“I can’t say I blame him. But I don’t want him here, Rory. There’s enough bad feelings over me without him adding to it.”

He sighed. “You doona’ understand, lass. I canna’ just toss him out. ’Tis no’ a highlander’s way. I’l keep an eye on him and you’l take Cal um and Connor with you if you’l no’ stay in yer room.”