Page 23 of Claimed by the Ruthless Highlander (Taming the Highland Devils #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

T he next morning, Maisie woke with the heaviness of shame pressing on her chest. Memories of the night before drifted back in fragments, his hands on her, his lips claiming hers, her own body arching and begging for more.

Heat rose to her cheeks, not from desire now, but from mortification that she had let herself be undone so easily. Her mother's stern voice seemed to echo in her mind.

"Maisie, a lady never surrenders her virtue, no matter how tempting the man," her mother would say.

She sat up, dragging her fingers through her tangled hair, and wrapped her arms around herself as if she could shield away the memory.

A guilty ache swirled in her belly, for the truth was she had wanted every moment of it, more than she had ever wanted anything before.

That knowledge only deepened her shame, for how could she admit, even to herself, that she had hungered for a man so fiercely?

She could almost see her mother's grave, the earth unsettled, the woman rolling in eternal disapproval.

Maisie whispered aloud, her voice hushed and trembling.

"What have I done? I've let him compromise me as though I were a foolish lass without sense."

She buried her face in her hands, wishing she could turn back the hours, and yet beneath the regret there lingered the dangerous memory of his touch, igniting her anew. That was the most terrifying part, knowing that if he reached for her again, she would not resist.

A sudden knock startled her from her thoughts, making her jolt as though caught in her sin.

Her heart leapt wildly, expecting it to be Caiden standing at her door, come to claim more of her reckless heart.

She smoothed her dress quickly, bracing herself for the storm she thought was coming.

But when the door creaked open, it was not Caiden who entered.

Norah and Isabelle stepped inside, their faces bright with the warmth of morning.

"Maisie, lass," Norah said with a smile, "we're off to gather some flowers by the meadow. Thought ye might fancy comin' along."

Relief swept through Maisie so swiftly that her knees nearly weakened, for it was a reprieve she desperately needed. She managed a smile and nodded, grateful for their interruption.

The three of them set out together, their chatter light as the sun spilled across the fields.

The meadow was awash in color, wildflowers nodding in the breeze, and Maisie bent to pluck them with careful hands.

Slowly, she felt some of the tightness in her chest ease, the rhythm of the women's laughter soothing her restless spirit.

For a time, she could almost forget the heat of last night, losing herself in the simple joy of their company.

Yet as she moved among them, gathering blossoms, her gaze lingered on Norah and Isabelle.

They seemed radiant, their figures graceful, their beauty effortless as sunlight on water.

A pang of jealousy twisted inside Maisie, for she felt ungainly beside them, towering and awkward in her height.

She pressed her lips together, trying not to let the bitterness show.

She told herself sternly that envy was unbecoming, but the thought whispered cruelly all the same.

She could never be like them, delicate and admired, with soft hands that seemed made for ribbons and rings.

Her own height had always set her apart, a reminder that she was too much in one way or another.

She bent her head lower, wishing she could fold herself small.

But then, unbidden, another thought slipped into her mind, a voice low and steady, the echo of Caiden's gaze upon her.

Ye daenae need to be small, lass. Ye're beautiful as ye are.

The words had never been spoken aloud, but they lived in the memory of his touch, in the way he had looked at her as though she were the only woman alive. She longed to hear him say those words to her.

"I'll be returnin' home soon," Isabelle said, her eyes lowering to her hands. "'Tis near time I went back to me own folk."

Maisie's head lifted at once, her breath catching in surprise. "Ye're leavin'? But I thought Castle McGibb was yer home," she exclaimed, staring at the lass as if she had misspoken.

"Nay," Isabelle answered gently, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "I'm of the Connelly clan, ye ken. I've only been visitin' me sister Norah here. I'll be ridin' back to me own kin in a few days."

Norah reached over to pat her sister's arm, her eyes soft, though her mouth was firm. "Isabelle is of stubborn mind. When she decides somethin' she doesnae let it go. I kent this day would come."

Maisie felt a pang she couldn't hide, as though someone had tugged a thread loose in her chest. The thought of Isabelle gone, her laughter absent from these halls, made the place seem emptier already.

"I will miss ye sorely," she murmured.

"And I ye, Maisie. But blood binds me back to Connelly lands. Still, I will never forget the fondness I found from being acquainted with ye."

Maisie nodded, swallowing hard, then tried to keep her voice steady. "Ye speak of family, and it reminds me of me own sister, Lavina. We are as close as two hearts could be."

Norah tilted her head, listening with gentle curiosity. "Tell us of her, Maisie. Ye've spoke her name a time or two but nay more."

A wistful smile softened Maisie's lips as memory carried her back.

"We'd oft go wanderin' in the meadows, gatherin' posies of wildflowers.

Lavina would braid them into garlands, crownin' us queens of the field.

Other days we'd sit within the parlor, readin' together or bendin' our heads over our embroidery. "

Isabelle's eyes brightened with tender recognition. "Ah, ye were blessed with a companion of the heart. 'Tis a rare thing."

Maisie's smile faltered a little as she went on. "Our mother was an Englishwoman, ye ken. She'd taught Lavina her ways, and Lavina was ever sure to share them with me. She'd insist I learn her letters well, and sit with me for hours, patient as a saint."

Norah's brow furrowed softly, touched by the longing in Maisie's voice. "Ye must miss her keenly, lass."

"Aye," Maisie whispered, pressing a hand to her breast. "Every day, though I try to carry her lessons in me heart. Sometimes when I stitch or read, I feel as though she sits beside me still."

Isabelle reached out and clasped Maisie's hand with quiet strength. "Then she does, Maisie. In yer every stitch and word, she lingers."

Maisie blinked, her throat tight as she gave a small nod. Surrounded by Norah's steady presence and Isabelle's fleeting one, she felt the pull of kinship and the ache of absence in the same breath.

Maisie and the sisters had just stooped to gather a handful of wildflowers when a low, rumbling growl cut through the quiet of the garden.

Caiden's dark figure strode with authority, his eyes blazing.

"Maisie!" he barked, voice sharp and dangerous, making her heart lurch. "Did ye think ye had leave to wander these grounds without me say?"

Maisie froze, clutching a daisy to her chest, as Norah stepped forward, hands raised in a placating gesture. "She was just gatherin' flowers, Caiden," she said, her voice wavering ever so slightly, betraying her unease.

Maisie noticed it immediately, the tremor in Norah's words, the way her knuckles whitened as she gripped her basket. Her heart tightened; even Norah, usually steady, was nervous in the face of Caiden's fury.

Caiden's gaze shifted sharply toward Norah, dark and intense. "And ye," he growled, his voice like a whip, "should have asked permission first before lettin' the lass leave this far from castle walls."

The warning left no room for argument, the weight of his authority pressing down upon them. Norah inclined her head, a soft hum of acknowledgment, but the tremble in her lips showed he had unsettled her more than she would admit.

Before Maisie could speak, he reached for her, grabbing her wrist with firm, unyielding strength.

"Come with me," he said, his voice low, urgent, and commanding. Despite the thrum of indignation rising in her chest, she followed.

By the time they reached his study, Maisie's chest heaved with both fear and anticipation.

Caiden closed the door with a sharp thud and pressed her against the cold stone wall, his body close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him. His hands framed her face with startling gentleness, and yet his gaze remained fierce.

"Ye must learn, Maisie," he murmured, his voice harsh and intimate all at once, "that disobeyin' me comes with consequences. I cannae allow ye to wander freely, not when it endangers ye, and me patience."

Maisie tried to speak, tried to argue, but the words caught in her throat when his lips descended on hers.

The kiss was demanding, insistent, a storm of heat and desire that stole her breath.

Every ounce of her resistance melted away as she felt the press of his chest, the curve of his arms anchoring her against the wall.

Her fingers twined in his hair, tugging gently as if urging him closer, and her heart raced with a wild, dizzying exhilaration.

The world outside the study ceased to exist; the flowers, the sisters, the garden—they were gone, replaced by the surge of longing between them. Caiden's hands roamed carefully, his touch igniting fires along her arms and shoulders, tracing the curve of her waist.

Maisie's body shivered under his touch, alive with sensations she had never allowed herself to feel before. Every beat of her heart, every shallow breath, was consumed by the intensity of the kiss, leaving her trembling in the storm of desire he had awakened.

When at last he pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, their breaths mingling in the quiet, warm room.

"Maisie…" he murmured, voice hoarse and rough with restraint.

She could only nod, her lips tingling, her pulse still racing. In that charged silence, she knew the boundaries had shifted. Whatever lesson he intended, she had already surrendered a part of herself willingly.

Then the voice of her mother echoed in her mind of propriety and not giving to a man.

Maisie pulled back abruptly, stepping away from Caiden with sharp hands and a glare that could cut stone.

"Caiden! Ye cannae just touch me whenever ye wish," she spat, cheeks burning with both anger and embarrassment.

Her voice trembled slightly, betraying the storm of emotions she felt under the weight of his nearness. She planted her feet firmly, refusing to let him see how his presence stirred her beyond reason.

Caiden's dark eyes narrowed, shadowed with desire and something more dangerous, control.

"Och, Maisie… I ken exactly how ye felt last night," he murmured, voice low and edged with heat. "Ye cannae deny it, lass. Ye felt it as I did." His words made her ears burn crimson, her pulse drumming in her temples as fury and longing warred inside her.

"Ye speak as if ye ken me thoughts and ye daenae." Maisie shot back, lifting her chin defiantly. "Ye have nay right! I am nay one's to command, and ye are nae laird over me will!" She turned sharply, intending to storm from the room and leave him behind.

But Caiden moved with frightening speed, closing the distance in a heartbeat. His arms wrapped around her, pinning her against his chest with an iron grip. "I told ye, Maisie," he growled, his voice dark and husky, "ye cannae disobey me. Ye belong to me."

Maisie's body stiffened at his words, and heat rushed to her cheeks as she fought to wrestle free.

"I am nay one's, Caiden! Ye hear me? I will never be yers!" she hissed, her voice shaking with a mix of indignation and desire she did not wish to admit.

He pressed closer, the warmth of his body a silent accusation against her defiance.

"Ye were nae so resistant last night, lass," he whispered, almost tenderly, though the glint in his eyes made her heart seize. "Ye ken ye enjoyed it."

Maisie drew a shaky breath and straightened, eyes blazing with stubborn pride.

"I will never be yers, and I will nae let ye touch me as if I belong to ye!" she declared, trying to sound firm even as her body trembled from his proximity. "I have a duty to me family. I am to marry for alliance, and I will do me part."

Fury flared in Caiden's gaze, dark and stormy, as if her words were a provocation that burned him.

"Ye will never be anyone else's, Maisie!" he thundered, gripping her arms tightly. "Hear me, ye only belong to me! And if ye dare speak of another, I will punish ye for it!"

Maisie's chest rose and fell rapidly as she fought to regain composure, her mind spinning with both indignation and the lingering heat of last night. Her hands flexed at her sides, desperate to release the tension in her body, yet a part of her could not deny the thrill of his words.

She lifted her chin higher, trying to match his fury with her own, though a small, rebellious whisper in her mind doubted her ability to resist him entirely.

"I will nae let ye command me. Nae after last night," she said again, her voice shaking, yet sharper now with resolve.

She struggled against his embrace, though she felt the undeniable pull of his strength. Even as she willed herself to be stern, her mind betrayed her.

Caiden's eyes softened for a fleeting moment, a dangerous, smoldering glint hidden beneath his anger.

"Ye may fight me, Maisie," he murmured, voice low and almost intimate, "but ye will nae be anyone else's. I will have ye, whether ye ken it yet or nae."

The words cut deep, mingling threat and promise, leaving her reeling, trapped in both fear and a desire she could not name.

He kissed her once more, heavy and deep with possession. Then he walked away, leaving her alone.

She clenched her fists, trying to assert her dignity, yet the intensity of the moment pressed upon her like the tide on the shore.

She knew she could not yield entirely, and yet she also knew she could not escape the pull of Caiden's presence.

One thing was sure:

I have given him more control by lettin' him pleasure me, and now he kens it.