His Judas Bride

Chapter 5

A naked man and woman. The cover for a bridal bed. At least Kara thought it was. Truth to tell? Upside down, her coif ends trailing the stone flags, fighting the urge to kick and scream, it was difficult to tell what it was. But the Black Wolf continued on with grim determination, not stopping till he stood beside the bed.

"Now. Don't you get any more ideas in that sweet head of yours about me being your bridegroom, just because I brought you in here. Bundling's not my thing."

He dumped her down, and the breath left her body as she thudded into the straw mattress. Perhaps he was right and she shouldn't have lagged so far behind. Caught her foot in the stirrup and plunged from her horse when she dismounted in the yard, either. But it was all secondary to the instinctive knowledge, he lied.

This was a bedroom. This was a bed.Had, or hadn't he threatened her to spend the night with him if she didn't hurry up? Was this even a castle, never mind McDunnagh Castle? No.

Would he lean over her like this so she could feel through the separating layers of wool and leather—soaking, welded wool and leather—what she squirmed at feeling? No. What if he'd brought her here to wreak revenge for Morven? It would be no surprise. She should never have argued with him like that. But how could she have helped it, when she hadn't known who she was arguing with?

What was more, he'd picked her up and set her over his sloping shoulder as if she were a feather, not a woman of twenty-two, whose gown and cloak were so encrusted with snow she could hardly stand. Hadn't broken stride, didn't even struggle for breath, for all that water dripped from his clothes, his hair, and nose all the way across the candlelit flagstones.

What would he be? Twenty-seven? Twenty-eight? When he married Morven ten years ago, Kara had been too young to be considered a suitor for him then.

Then, of course, in the past five years, when he'd transformed himself into the fiercest warrior in two glens—the kind of man not just to put your throat on a platter and serve it up to you for supper, but to make you eat it too—Kara had been imprisoned, the world here, believing she was in Edinburgh. Dances. Parties. Suitors. A fine life for an Irish tinker chief's daughter.

But whatever age this man was, his rangy body was treacherously honed and muscled in all the right places. His soft, cold scent smelled nothing like his grimy clothes suggested. And his sensuous mouth was so close, it … it …and hers …

"Och, Callm! What the—" A slap rang out inches from Kara's ear. "Get away from her the now. For God's sake, let her breathe, will ye?"

A woman. There was a woman. And not just any woman, by the looks of the way he ducked across the room. Thank God, when breathing … breathing would be good.

Although what flared in her blood was so unwelcome was there any harm making doubly sure? Not of breathing. Of things. Firstly she wouldn't want this woman, or any other, thinking she had somehow invited him onto the bed with her, would she? To sprawl, in that unseemly fashion, on top of her too. It might be his woman for that matter. Although she wasn't much one for doing such a thing, normally, she grasped the woman's be-ringed hands.

"I—I am Lady Kara McGurkie. Yes. And I—I was on my w-way to marry Lord Ewen w-w-when that … that m-man there—"

"Don't you go there, Princess with lies about me." He might have retreated to the doorway, but he wasn't any tamer. In fact his eyes stood out like ice in the dim, smoky light. Polished silver as they held hers. "I wouldn't long-pole you to save my life."

What?

"Callm!"

The woman'sexclamation brought her up short. The damned bastard should be so fortunate. That she never leapt off the bed and smacked him either. Mind you, maybe she was fortunate too, that she never?

"Dinnae stand there glaring like that! If ye cannae make yourself useful, go and see to the bairn. The wee so-and-so's been trouble all day again. The words she comes out with. Cursing and swearing. I told her to wait till her faither got home."

"Really?" Kara failed to arrest her dropping jaw.

The Black Wolf had a child? To this woman?No-one had said.Yet, he was the Black Wolf. So obviously he had women. Probably for breakfast. This one was beautiful enough to have for supper too. Not a raven hair out of place, or so much as a crease in her green velvet gown. Some women were just like that, serenely elegant as the moon, skimming through life as surely as it did a clouded sky.Unlike her who always seemed to hit the rocks and tree trunks.

Why should it matter what the Wolf had? Especially when rutting was the only word she could think of for what might have happened next a few seconds ago. What the hell was wrong with her? Was her father right? She was a slut and nothing else?

"Oh, ye have to threaten them with something, my lady, as ye'll soon learn."

Was the woman's unswerving gaze, spelling certain things out? Just how happy would she have been had Lachlan lugged in a complete stranger and deposited them on the bed? Except there hadn't been a bed exactly. There hadn't been anything really.In the world ordained by her father, Lachlan had been a slave.

This man now, was elemental as the undraped stone, the pools of water on the flagstones, the burning candle sconces. As silently sullen as a towering crag. He may have retreated to the door, but he didn't look the kind to bend his knee to anyone. Not even the king himself. On the contrary, that glower said he was the kind to lock the king up and force him to bend his knee to him.

"Won't she, Callm, when she has one of her own?"

"What a horrible thought. I mean … I mean, I've no idea what I mean." Kara sank back on the bed. "Please, just ignore me as if I wasn't here. I know some of you might find that difficult but sometimes it's honestly best."

Mistaking him for Ewen McDunnagh, accusing him of rape before his woman, never mind showing him the dress that was clingingto her in sodden strips and now saying this?She should have fled when she had the chance. It had been hard enough getting into Lochalpin. How the hell was she meant to get out of it again?What a mess—even for her. She closed her eyes.

"Fine." The gritting of his voice came from the very back of his throat. "Why don't I deal with it? The bairn, that is."

Thank God he clarified that. She'd be wondering what kind of place this was otherwise.

"Thank you, Callm. That would be nice."

"You keep an eye on her."