The Lover

Chapter

Ten

Sabrina awoke alone later that same morning, with a vague recollection of Niall kissing her sweetly at dawn, saying regretfully that the press of duty called him away. For a moment she lay there in the vast bed, unmoving, lush memories heating her senses as she relived certain indescribable moments of the night just passed.

She had never before imagined the act of mating could be so…incredible. Yesterday she wouldn’t have believed such shattering pleasure was even possible, or that she could have responded to a man’s touch with such wanton abandon.

Burying her face in the pillow, she breathed in Niall’s musky male scent. Before last night she would have called herself a lady, but the demanding intensity of his passion had stripped away every shred of reserve or shyness, destroyed any lingering will to resist.

Without conscious thought, Sabrina reached up to touch her breast with her palm, remembering Niall’s strong, long-fingered hands caressing the sensitive bud. She nearly whimpered at the fire that shivered through her.

Her eyes shut as vivid images assaulted her…Niall l

oving her, his bare, powerfully muscled body moving against hers…his expression feverish, his face dark and strained with arousal….

His sensuality had astonished her. She had been prepared for a dispassionate, even painful, bedding, yet he had treated her with infinite consideration, indeed, as if she were a desirable woman. For a few brief moments, he had made her feel special, cherished, sought after…

Rising from the bed, she drew open the window curtains, and caught her breath at the scene that greeted her. Below, the mist-shrouded castle glowed golden in the early morn, while the emerald hills shimmered in the translucent light.

At the scene of enchantment, a feeling of optimism swept her. This was her home, and she would make the best of it. A new life awaited her now, one as Niall McLaren’s wife and mistress of his clan. It was a long moment before Sabrina could make herself turn away to begin the mundane tasks of washing and dressing.

She had nearly completed her toilet when a scratch on the door interrupted her thoughts. When she bid entrance, a young woman stepped gingerly into the room. It was the chambermaid, Jean, the same lass Sabrina had discovered with a naked Niall in the herbal just over a se’nnight ago.

Jean kept her eyes downcast as she dipped a curtsy. “Beg pardon, milady…but Master Cameron’s come to bid ye farewell.”

Sabrina brightened at the thought of her stepfather. “Thank you. Would you tell him I will be there directly?”

“Ah…milady…Perhaps ye should know…that day ye came to call…there was naught between the laird an’ me. I was to minister to his wounds, ’twas all.”

“His wounds?”

“Aye. He was injured mending the dam—a nasty gash on his hip and bruises on his side.”

Sabrina felt herself frowning as she recalled the scabbed flesh on Niall’s body.

“He never bedded me, nor even kissed me,” Jean insisted. “Never, I swear it. Not that I would ha’ minded kissing him, or ought else…but the laird doesna diddle the servants. Never. Ye can ask anyone. We’re as safe here as newborn bairns in a kirk. But as ye’re the mistress here now, I wouldna wish to start on the wrong foot, with ye thinking…well, I didn’t, that’s all.”

Her confession sounded entirely sincere, not at all like an anxious attempt to placate a jealous mistress.

Relieved that Niall had not been seducing the maids, Sabrina managed a smile. “You have eased my mind, Jean. I too hope we may begin with a fresh slate. If you will forget the incident, I surely will.”

Jean bobbed a curtsy and fled the room, leaving Sabrina to her restless thoughts. She was comforted to think she needn’t fear her husband’s betrayal in her own home at least, but vexed that the confession had to come from a stranger. Niall could have simply explained to her about his wounds and set her mind at ease, but he had purposely let her believe the worst.

Her stepfather awaited her with Rab in the great hall. The dog, who had been banished from the wedding festivities, barked with excitement and fawned around Sabrina’s legs joyously.

When she eventually straightened from embracing her pet, it was to find Charles Cameron studying her intently. Her cheeks flushed with warmth as she hugged him as well.

When she would have stepped back, though, he prevented her, his lean hands gentle on her shoulders. “He has treated you well?”

Sabrina had no need to ask who “he” was. “Quite well,” she murmured, a bit embarrassed to be discussing so intimate a subject as her wedding night.

Charles shook his head. “I confess I find these Highlanders too savage for my taste, but then I forget you’re half Highlander. Well…I’m off to Edinburgh, lass, unless you have need of me. I shall miss you more than you know.”

An ache knotted her throat. “Never more than I will miss you.”

“It goes against the grain, but I intend to release your dowry as soon as I return.”

“Thank you, Papa Charles.”