Tender Feud

“Argyll owns all of this,” Raith remarked wearily. “Do you truly think anything I might say to him could change the patterns of a lifetime?”

Katrine remained silent. There was nothing she could say that hadn’t already been said.

It was late afternoon by the time they sailed back across the Firth of Lorne and reached Oban. Katrine sensed Raith’s impatience and suspected he blamed her for the delay; her harping about the feud had made him alter his plans to take her directly home.

Katrine couldn’t find the energy to defend herself, though, let alone argue with him. Nor could she take any pleasure in the scenery that had excited her only a few short weeks before. The mountains that rose in graceful curves and high coned peaks around the bay of Oban could have been flat farmland for all the interest she showed, while the fishing huts and the quaint shops that dotted the sloping streets and the surrounding wooded hills could have been a London slum, rather than a charming seaside village.

Instead, Katrine found herself scanning the village for the tolbooth where the Duart MacLeans were imprisoned, and wondering if Raith would try to free his clansmen tonight, after he had escorted her home. Alarmed at the thought, she tilted back her head, peering up at the blue summer sky through the black veil she had been given to wear.

Could she perhaps delay Raith long enough to prevent his return before morning? Callum had told her they would be required to press if they meant to make her uncle’s house before midnight. And there was no possibility of their remaining in Oban for the night, Callum was certain. Raith wouldn’t risk putting up at an inn for fear of her being recognized. That was also the reason she was wearing the veil and voluminous hat that completely hid her bright hair.

Katrine pondered the thought as the ship drew alongside the pier. While the crew cast out lines and dropped anchor, she even considered trying to escape, so Raith couldn’t deliver her to her uncle. But she suspected such an attempt would fail. Raith was no doubt expecting something of the sort, for he’d been keeping a watchful eye on her ever since they’d come within range of the harbor. And short of jumping ship and swimming for shore—not for the first time did she regret never having learned to swim—there was nothing she could do at the moment to elude his vigilance. Perhaps later, when she and Raith were alone. And they would be alone, Callum had already confirmed. No doubt those two horses waiting on the dock were meant for them....

“So, sweeting, this is the moment I bid you a tearful farewell.”

At Callum’s approach, Katrine broke off her musings and forced a smile. She greatly regretted that he wouldn’t be accompanying them on the long ride. She didn’t want to be left alone with Raith, not now. She didn’t think she could bear his smoldering silence alone.

“Thank you for all your past kindness,” she managed to say unsteadily as she extended her gloved hand. “I hope…I will see you again someday.”

Callum’s grin was roguish yet comforting. “Oh, you will, bonny Katie. Sooner than you may think. And I may yet someday have you for a cousin.” Lifting her veil, he bent and kissed her on the cheek, a solemn and tender gesture that nearly had her crying again. “Take care, Katie, and keep your chin up.

It was good advice, she thought wretchedly as Raith came up to her and offered his arm. Accepting it with quiet dignity, she allowed him to escort her down the gangway to the waiting horses. When he had helped her mount, she adjusted her skirts over the lady’s sidesaddle and waited for Raith to swing into his own saddle, then followed as he led the way out of town.

All too soon they had left the village behind. The Highland peaks rose around them in silent splendor, piercing the blue sky and the floating, fleecy clouds of summer that seemed to mock the pain in her heart. Raith never spoke a word, not until hours later when they paused beside a burn to rest and water the horses. And then it was only a terse command to dismount and stretch her legs. He came to her side to help her down, taking care not to touch her more than absolutely necessary.

Yet Katrine was grateful for his restraint. Though she raised her veil, she avoided looking at him as he silently attended the horses, watching instead the flaming red sunset that shimmered like fire between the hills. Still, any thought of escape was only a distant whisper; Raith was all she could think about. This might be the last time she ever saw him, the last intimate moment she ever shared with him.

She heard him rummaging through the blanket roll in front of his saddle for food, and kept her gaze carefully averted as he approached. Yet as she accepted the bannock Raith offered, his fingers brushed her hand. Even through her gloves, she could feel the shock of sensual awareness, a sizzling jolt that turned her both feverishly hot and shaking cold. Her gaze flew to Raith’s and she found him staring down at her. She could have sworn he had been as affected as she.

“Raith…” She faltered, her voice trembling. “I can’t leave you…not without…”

Her voice broke before she could complete the words, but from the torment in his blue eyes, she knew he understood. She needed Raith to make love to her, to hold her once more, she needed to feel his hard body melding with hers. She wanted him so overwhelmingly she ached all over.

She remained there, staring up at him, her eyes pleading with him. When Raith made no move toward her, she unashamedly reached out to touch his arm, determined to have this moment, wanting a memory of him that would sustain her through the lonely years ahead. “Please…one last time.”

Raith shut his eyes, his face contorting as if he were in agony. But his hands slowly reached up to remove her hat and toss it aside. With a sigh of acceptance, he drew her to him.

For a long moment they stood in each other’s arms, saying nothing. Reality faded away. For that enchanted moment they might have been any young man and his sweetheart stolen out to meet in the privacy of the hills. But it wasn’t enough. For either of them. Drawing back slightly, Raith cupped her face in his hands. Quivering, Katrine raised her parted lips to his.

The kiss was wild and sweet, like the heather, like the cool mountain air. Their heartbeats accelerated as they savored the magic of it, kissing, tasting, drinking in the essence of the other.

Complete, Raith thought in some still-functioning part of his mind. This was what he needed to make himself complete. He had to have her. He needed her more than his next breath of air.

And she needed him. When he shifted his body urgently against her skirts, fitting himself between her thighs, letting her feel that powerful male part of him, Katrine whimpered in sheer delight and arched her back, pressing closer, her fingers clutching at his clothes.

They undressed each other impatiently, her hands feverishly stroking the hard muscles of his back and shoulders, his lips hungrily devouring the silken skin he bared.

Raith saved her hair for last. He murmured another sigh, this one of pleasure as he pulled the pins from her hair and let the radiant mass fall around her pale, slender shoulders. Then he stepped back, drinking in the sight. She stood there trembling with need, naked, beautifully naked, her breasts flushed and dewy from his mouth’s caresses, the setting sun gilding her body with gold and red.

When she shivered in the cool air, he went to his horse and withdrew a green MacLean hunting plaid from the blanket roll and spread it on the ground. Katrine felt her heart contract with love for him. He could have used the blanket, but he had chosen to acknowledge the rightness of their union by sharing the tartan of his clan. Her eyes misted with tears.

Silently he pulled Katrine down upon the plaid and slid his fingers into tresses the color of the sunset.

“My sweet Katie,” he murmured, seeki

ng her mouth.

“My love,” she whispered moments later when he bonded their bodies together in joyous desire.