Page 25 of The Chief's Wild Promise
Fiona nodded before flashing Makenna a glance. “Would ye like some hot caudle from the kitchens, Lady Makenna?”
Considering the offer, Makenna nodded. She’d barely eaten all day, although she did love caudle—a thick, rich drink made from oats and sweetened with honey. It would be comforting. “Aye … thank ye.”
Fiona departed, her soft footfalls receding in the narrow passageway that led between the family chambers that made up the top two floors of the tower house.
Makenna eyed Kylie then, bracing herself for yet more well-meant but vexing sisterly advice. However, none was forthcoming.
Intrigued, Makenna’s gaze drifted to the book tucked under her sister’s arm. “What’s that?” she asked finally.
Kylie favored her with a secretive smile. “A wedding gift.”
The northeastern shore of Loch Tay
Perthshire
The same night …
The woman he craved was just a day’s ride away now. All he had to do was claim her.
Tormod MacDougall watched the moon’s reflection glisten in the still waters of the loch and listened to the croaking of puddocks in the rushes. Behind him, the rumble of men’s voices around the fire rose and fell, while the scent of woodsmoke laced the crisp air.
Shifting on the boulder at the water’s edge, he fought impatience.
It had been nine months since he’d last set eyes on Makenna MacGregor—but during that time, his need for her had grown. It had gotten to the point where every quiet moment he had, like now, thoughts of her plagued him.
The challenge glinting in her moss-green eyes.
The flash of her blade as she fought.
The haughty tilt of her chin as she answered him.
That strong, lush body that begged to be ravished.
He’d never met a woman like her—beautiful and feminine yet with a backbone of steel and fighting skills to rival most men. Even him.
She’d fought him off when he’d tried to rape her, hadn’t she?
Tormod’s lips thinned as he recalled how she’d pulled a blade on him. She wouldn’t be so feisty the next time he had her alone. No, next time, he’d tie her to a bed and make sure there were no sharp objects within reach before he took her. He shifted uncomfortably upon the boulder then, a chill feathering down his spine.
Taking hermight prove a problem.
Ever since two months earlier, when Makenna’s sister Kylie had stabbed him in the cods, his prick wouldn’t stiffen. The wound the bitch had dealt him that day—when he and the Ghost Raiders had attempted to take Dounarwyse Castle—was healing, but even when he took himself in hand, his member refused to respond. Lucky for him, the dagger hadn’t pierced any vitals, and his bollocks and rod were still intact. Even so, he’d nearly bled out as he slid down the storm drain and out of the fortress. By the time he’d reachedThe Night Plundereroffshore, he’d been weak and in agony.
Only rage had kept him going.
Aye, one day he’d get even with Kylie. And what better way to start than ruining her beloved sister?
He summoned fresh images of Makenna then—naked yet still defiant. He’d let her hiss and spit at him as he spread her wide and plowed her sweet furrow. As he enjoyed the fantasy, he rubbed his knuckles at the groin of his braies.
Nothing.
Gritting his teeth, he tried to ignore the dread that clenched his gut.It’ll heal … I just need time.
“All’s quiet?”
A gravelly voice behind him jerked Tormod from his thoughts.Straightening up, he glanced right at where a large man had stepped up to his side. “Aye … only the toads are awake at this hour.”
“Don’t let the stillness fool ye, lad … the MacGregors often scout these parts … for we are near the eastern borders of their lands now.”