Sìleas’s emotions felt raw, whipsawed between her anger with Ian and the warmth she felt toward him for what he’d done for Payton. She realized this walk to Teàrlag’s was the first she had been alone with him since his return—except for the two times in her bedchamber, which hadn’t been good for conversation.
“What will ye do to see that Connor is made chieftain?” she asked, for something to say.
“I’ll do whatever it takes, for the sake of the clan,” Ian said. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Connor. He’s like a brother to me.”
If Ian had a plan, he wasn’t sharing it with her.
“Teàrlag’s is a good place to meet,” she said. “I rarely see another soul on the path to her cottage.”
“I suspect Connor and Duncan are staying in the cave on the beach below her cottage,” Ian said. “That cove is a good place to hide Shaggy’s boat as well.”
“I remember that cave,” she said, turning to him. “You lads used to hide there, pretending ye were wild pirates.”
The other boys had been furious when she found them, until Ian suggested she could be the captive princess they held for ransom. At the time, being bound and gagged had seemed a small price to pay to be included in their game.
The path turned inland for the last mile, taking travelers through the valley to avoid the high sea cliffs on this stretch of the coast. Before taking the turn, Sìleas and Ian left the path to stand in a flat, grassy area at the top of the cliff.
“This is one of my favorite places,” Sìleas said.
She breathed in the brisk sea breeze as she gazed at the mountains that rose up on the other side of the inlet. Excitement tingled at her fingertips as she listened to the crash of waves far below. Like many islanders, the wildness of the sea spoke to her soul.
“Shall we see if the log is still there?” Ian asked, pointing to their right, where a goat path continued along the cliff.
“Aye, let’s.”
Ian took her hand and smiled at her as he tucked it under his plaid to keep it warm. She knew he was remembering, as she was, how he used to take her hand along this path.
“I’m no likely to step off the edge now,” she said, smiling back.
“All the same, I’ll feel better if I have a hold on ye,” he said. “The wind is strong, and it’s a long way down.”
The first part of the cliff path was wide enough for them to walk side by side between the cliff and the rock outcrop. After a short distance, the path veered around a huge boulder. It narrowed beyond that and then ended abruptly at the edge of a giant crevice that split the cliff.
“The log is still here,” Ian said, sounding pleased.
In a long-ago storm, a tree that had once clung to the edge of the cliff fell across the thirty-foot fissure, forming a bridge of sorts. The only way to continue was to cross the log as the goats did.
Sìleas sucked in her breath as she peeked over the edge. “I can’t believe you lads used to cross here, instead of going around by the main path.”
“Ach, we were foolish. ’Tis a wonder we didn’t kill ourselves,” Ian said, pulling her back. “The only time I was truly frightened, though, was when ye followed us.”
Sìleas remembered the feel of the slippery wood beneath her bare feet and the sound of the swell and crash of the waves against the rocks below. Ian had told her not to come, so she had hidden behind the boulder until all four boys had crossed over the crevice and disappeared down the path on the other side.
“It took a year off my young life when I turned around and saw ye on the log.” Ian put his arm around her and pulled her tight against his side.
She had gotten halfway across the crevice before she looked down and froze.
“What made ye turn around that day?” she asked. His arm felt good around her. She couldn’t help leaning into him.
“I felt a prickle at the back of my neck.” He gave her a smile that made her stomach flutter and touched his knuckle under her chin.
Sìleas watched the water rise as another wave filled the narrow crevice, then crashed against the sheer walls. As it exploded into spray and foam, she tasted the dizzying fear that had gripped her when she stood on that log as a wee girl. That day, she had been unable to take her eyes off the rushing water thundering below her—until she heard Ian calling to her.
Don’t look down, Sìl, Look at me. Look at me!
Biting her lip, she’d torn her gaze from the swirling water to meet Ian’s eyes.
Don’t be scared, because I’m coming to get ye.
Ian had walked across the log toward her, holding her with his gaze and talking to her all the while. Even now, her body recalled the surge of relief that went through her limbs when his hand finally clasped her wrist.
I’ve got ye now. I’ll not let ye fall.
And he hadn’t.
Sìleas realized she was holding her breath and blew it out. A swell of gratitude rose in her chest for the eleven-year-old boy who had crossed the log without a moment’s hesitation to save her. Ian was always like that—fearless and decisive in a crisis. It was not the only time he had rescued her, just the most dramatic.
After that day, whenever she was in trouble, she no longer prayed to God to save her. Instead, she prayed for God to send Ian.
“Sìleas,” Ian said, bringing her attention from the lad in her memory to the man beside her. He backed her up to the boulder and braced his arms on either side of her. “I think ye owe me a kiss for scaring me half to death that day.”
Without waiting for her to agree, he lowered his head toward hers.
She couldn’t resist him and didn’t want to. Gripping the front of his plaid to steady herself, she tilted her head back to meet him. When his lips touched hers, she melted into him. The water crashing and churning below and the wind whipping the branches of the trees above echoed the tumult pulsing through her.
Her heart beat so fast she felt dizzy as he kissed her nose, her eyelids, her cheeks.
“Did ye bring me to this spot thinking the memory would make me soft on ye?” she asked.
“Aye,” he said, nuzzling her ear. “Did it work?”
Beneath his vanity and that dangerous edge that seemed to make the air crackle around him, she caught glimpses of the good-hearted lad he used to be. Remembering that boy’s blind disregard for his own safety to protect her, she could almost trust him.
Yet it wasn’t the boy who had left her, but the man.
“Ye didn’t used to smell so good,” Ian said, kissing her hair. He ran his hands up her sides under her cloak, making her feel light-headed and breathless. “I like the feel of ye even better.”
It was hard to think with his hands on her and his breath in her ear. Finally, she forced herself to brace her hands against his chest.
“I paid ye the kiss,” she said. “Now it’s time we were on our way.”
“That kiss was for scaring me that day,” he said, as he brushed light kisses along her jaw. “I’m afraid ye owe me several more for getting ye off the log.”
Her heart raced as he brought his mouth back to hers. His lips were soft and warm and, once again, she turned liquid in his arms. When he ended the kiss, she peeled herself away from him, feeling flushed and confused.
“I’m verra glad I waited to collect the debt,” he said, smiling at her with the devil in his eyes.
“I am not a trinket to be played with.” Sìleas attempted to push him away, but he was as immovable as the rock at her back.
“I don’t know what ye mean by that remark.” he said, his smile gone and the edge of anger in his voice. “What makes ye think I take ye lightly?”
“Perhaps because ye ignored me and your vows for the last five years,” she said. “And don’t try to tell me ye had no women in France, for I’ll no believe it.”
“I didn’t think of ye as my wife then.” He took her chin in his hand and fixed intense blue eyes on her. “But I do now.”
“Well, I don’t.” She darted under his arm and started around the boulder, but he caught her around the waist and hauled her back.
“Ye are my wife, like it or no,” he said, towering over her. “So ye may as well like it.”
“I don’t like it,” she said. “Not one bit.”
“Ye lie, Sìl,” he said, his eyes hot on hers. “Ye like it when I kiss ye. If ye have forgotten already, I’ll have to show ye again.”
Ian pulled her into his arms and proceeded to kiss her senseless. Every argument faded under the assault on her senses. It was as if she had been starving for his kisses without knowing it. Now that she had discovered what she craved, she had to taste it, touch it. She wanted to swallow him whole, take him inside her, and never lose him.
She clung to him, unable to get close enough.
“I want to feel you,” Ian said, pushing back her cloak.
Wherever he touched, his hands burned her skin with a heat that drew her ever closer. He dropped his head and pressed his lips to where her pulse was beating madly at the base of her throat. She sucked in her breath as his hands covered her breasts.
“Ahhh,” he breathed. “Your breasts were made for my hands.”
He dipped his head lower, running his tongue in the valley between them. His lips were warm and wet on her skin. When he took her nipples between his fingers and thumbs, pure lust shot through her body and down her limbs, like whiskey on an empty belly.
Her head fell back against the boulder as she let the new sensations take her. When she felt the moist warmth of Ian’s mouth on her breast, she started. He found the nipple through the cloth and flicked his tongue over it, and it felt so good she didn’t want him to stop.
When he sucked her breast into his mouth, she felt it down to her toes. She had a fleeting sense of embarrassment when she realized she had groaned aloud, but it was soon lost in the swirl of sensations Ian was pulling from her. She was panting by the time he released her breast to move up her throat with hot, wet kisses.
“Ach, I love the sounds ye make,” he said against her ear. “I want ye beneath me, Sìleas. I want to bury myself inside ye and bring ye such pleasure that ye cry out my name.”
He kissed her until her lips felt swollen. When he pulled away, cold air chilled the heated skin beneath her clothes, leaving her with a physical longing for the body that had pressed against hers. She felt stunned, disoriented, and too aware of her body. Her breasts tingled, she felt wet and achy between her legs, and her fingertips itched for the silky feel of his hair and the rough cloth of his shirt.
“See, ye do like my kisses,” Ian said, looking altogether too sure of himself. “And I promise ye, ye will like it still better when I take ye to bed.”
She ran her tongue over her dry lips. “That doesn’t mean I’ll like being wed to ye.”
“It’s a verra good start,” he said, with a gleam in his eye.
“Ye are a vain man, Ian MacDonald,” she said, and turned her attention to straightening her gown.
She felt Ian go still and looked up to see his gaze fixed on something behind her. Holding a finger to his lips, he nodded in the direction of the road. She turned around and saw twenty men heading up the road toward them. Judging from the blades she could see, they were prepared for trouble—or to cause it.
At the front of the group, was none other than Hugh Dubh MacDonald.
She felt Ian’s tension in the taut muscles of his body as he leaned against her, pressing her into the boulder.
“They’re coming for Connor,” he said next to her ear, as the group started around the bend in the road.
“God, no,” she whispered. “What can we do?”
“ ’Tis quicker to Teàrlag’s along the cliff path.” He spun her around and gave her a quick, hard kiss. “I must warn Connor and Duncan. Wait here, and I’ll come back for ye as soon as I can.”
“I’m going with ye,” she said. “Ye might need me.”
“No, you’re staying here. I don’t have time to argue.” He started to leave, but halted. “Damn it!”
She turned to see what had caught his attention. Four of Hugh’s men were settling themselves down at the side of the road, instead of following the others.
“What are they doing?” she whispered.
“Hugh has remembered we used to take the goat path,” he said in a hushed voice. “He’s left these men to cut off Connor and Duncan’s escape by this route.”
When she looked up at him, Ian’s jaw was set and his eyes cold-blue steel.
“Come,” he said, taking her hand. “I can’t leave ye here now.”