Page 23 of A Scot for Bethan (The Welsh Rebels #6)

Chapter Nine

“ I will have to leave,” Bethan announced the following morning.

Everyone had broken their fast in the hall with bowls of creamy porridge.

In just a few days, this new Scottish dish had become a favorite of hers and she already knew this was what she would want to eat in the morning for the rest of her life.

She would have to make sure to ask the cook for the method before setting off, since no one in Wales had heard of it.

“Leave?” Cameron placed his spoon down.

“Yes. There is nothing here for me except trouble.”

“Surely it can wait a few days? You’ve been on the road almost a month already, you’ll need a rest.”

Yes, a rest would have been nice, but she didn’t have that luxury.

McDonald’s attack was proof enough. Who would be the next man to think he could use her body to build his fortune?

But since she had decided to keep the events of the previous day a secret, she couldn’t reveal the reason behind her decision to leave as soon as possible, so she stayed silent.

“Where will you go?” Cameron asked when he saw she wasn’t going to answer.

In truth, she had no idea. Could she return to Castell Esgyrn?

She was certain the Hunters would welcome her again, but she knew she would feel like a failure, coming back still unmarried, even if Dougal’s defection was hardly her fault.

Could she go live with Siaspar at Castell y Ddraig?

As a thank you for her brother’s hospitality, she could offer to look after his estate.

Having no wife, mother, or sister with him, he might welcome the feminine touch, at least for a while, while she thought on a more permanent solution.

Bethan rubbed at her temple. This was a problem she could have done without.

For years she had thought she would have a home here, in the Scottish Highlands, and she was even thinking she could come to like the country.

On the way here, she had fallen under the charm of the rugged landscape.

But with Dougal gone, she had no reason to stay at Crois Dhubh, and staying anywhere else in the vicinity, alone, put her at risk.

“I don’t know yet. I will go to Wales and decide when I’m there.” At least she had a few options, even if they were not ideal. The hand massaging her temple traveled to her neck and rubbed. God, she was so tired. “There is no rush.”

“What is that?” she heard Cameron say.

“What is what?”

“This.” Leaning over to her, he placed his finger, callused and warm, next to hers on the tender skin underneath her ear. Heat flooded through her. How he could make such a simple touch so sensual was mystery. “You have a scratch here.”

A scratch? Courtesy of McDonald’s attack, no doubt. The heat in her veins instantly turned to ice. She had hoped to keep the assault a secret from him and she’d thought to have succeeded.

“I must have caught myself with a pin this morning when I tried to put on a veil,” she said in her best unconcerned voice.

“You’re not wearing any veil,” Cameron pointed out. “In fact, you never do.”

Damn, of course he would have noticed she didn’t. They had been together for a month. “I don’t usually, but I wanted to wear one today. I changed my mind when I saw I could not pin it satisfactorily, probably because I’m out of practice.”

“Mm.” He didn’t sound convinced.

The finger at her throat started to draw slow circles on her skin, stealing her sanity. She swallowed hard. Cameron must have felt it because he stood up abruptly, as if he’d only then realized what he was doing.

“Come. I need to show you the papers pertaining to your new fortune.”

She nodded. The day before she had needed time to deal with the revelation, but she was now ready to see for herself how much her life had just changed.

He led the way up to a room at the back of the solar Dougal had evidently used to write letters and conduct his affairs.

It was small and sparsely furnished, rendering obvious the fact that the owner of the castle was barely ever home.

It was a stark reminder of the kind of life she would have had if she’d married Dougal, one that sent shivers down her spine.

“Here. I will have this translated into English if you prefer, but as you can see, you are a rich woman.”

Bethan stared at the piece of parchment Cameron had just laid flat on the table.

The Gaelic was undecipherable, but the sums scattered here and there spoke for themselves.

Indeed. She was now a rich woman. After having spent the best part of her life counting every coin, it was a bewildering discovery.

That still didn’t tell her where to go or what to do, and it brought with it its own lot of problems. Her gaze wandered to the solar where the day before McDonald had assaulted her.

Men would be after her. Only two days ago she had been worried no one would even think of proposing to her, now she knew some men would resort to rape to take her to the altar.

Indeed, she had to leave, even if the thought of being parted from Cameron had her guts twisted in knots.

“Yes. I can see that. It only makes it imperative for me to leave as soon as possible.” At home, no one would know about this new fortune of hers. She would be safe from men’s machinations, free to choose her destiny. “Do you think one of your men would agree to escort me back to Wales?”

“One of my men?” Cameron sounded as if she’d just suggested he stabbed himself in the eye or something equally gruesome. “I will escort you myself, wherever you decide to go.”

Her heart skipped a beat. He wanted to go with her?

They weren’t to say goodbye just yet? Relief spread through her, which was quickly replaced by something else.

Something like excitement at the idea of being on the road alone with Cameron for days on end.

She pretended to examine the piece of parchment to hide her turmoil.

“You’ve already spent almost two months away from your home and your clan,” she murmured. “You’re the laird. I cannot ask this of you.”

“Come, Ealasaid,” he growled. “Surely you know?—”

She rounded on him. “What did you just call me?”

A corner of his mouth lifted. He’d seen her outrage and was enjoying it. The wretched man!

“Ealasaid. It’s Elizabeth in Gaelic.” Oh.

Her anger deflated as quickly as it had come.

Clearly, he had not meant to insult her, quite the contrary.

In truth, she didn’t know why she had reacted so hotly.

She could only suppose all the events of the last few days had left her overwrought.

“You did tell me that was what your name meant in Welsh?”

“Well, yes.”

It was. So why did hearing the Gaelic version make her feel so…so… What was she feeling, exactly? Damn and blast, discussions with Cameron Campbell made her whirl from one emotion to the next with dizzying speed.

“I don’t need your escort.” Suddenly she was certain being on the road alone with him for days on end was the last thing she should do.

“Well, you’re getting it all the same.”

“I cannot ask you to?—”

“You’re not asking, damn you! I’m offering. Are you going to gainsay everything I say?”

“What if I am? What are you going to do about it?”

“ Mo chreach ! You, my wee Welsh hellion, are too challenging by half. And far too tempting.” He let his gaze wander all over her in the most shameful way. Irritation had been replaced by something altogether more worrying, something hot and fierce. “It is time I did something about that .”

His intention was only too clear. He was going to do what had seemed inevitable since they had set eyes on each other.

Now that he knew she was no virgin, now that she was not betrothed anymore, nothing stood in their way; they could finally surrender to the desire burning between them.

Bethan’s whole body caught alight at the thought.

This was what she wanted, what she was desperate for.

His mouth was on hers before she could beg him to kiss her, betraying a need as intense as hers.

The kiss was fierce, almost too rough, and yet still not passionate enough.

She could taste his lingering doubts as well as his desire for her, feel his body warring with his reason.

No, not now! He could not hesitate now, when she was finally where she wanted to be, in his arms. He drew back, eyes ablaze, and she caught him by the tunic to prevent him from leaving.

“Cameron, please. More.”

Every nerve ending ignited the moment his lips landed on her throat, just under her ear.

There was the gentlest of bites, followed by the naughtiest of licks.

This was what she wanted, raw, unfettered desire.

Everything within her relaxed, then tensed.

There would be no holding back from now.

She had kept her urges for this man in check from the moment she had met him, she had ridden next to him day after day and she had witnessed the proof of his desire for her on many occasions, she had been driven to the edge of madness imagining all they could do together at night.

For weeks all she’d been able to think about was the touch of his lips and hands all over her body.

Now it was time to experience the real thing.

Bethan took his head between her hands and kissed him with all the passion she was capable of. In that moment they were fused as one. It was perfect already. And soon it would be even better, he would be inside her, like another part of her, and they would be one.

Still kissing her, Cameron pushed her back until she was leaning against the wall.

The urgency of the move made her legs grow weak, made her desperate for more.

As if he’d heard her silent plea, his mouth left her lips and moved back to her throat, sliding lower than before, all the way to the swell of her breasts in a heated trail.

As if by sorcery, the edge of her bodice slid down, revealing her nipples.