Page 12 of The Highlander’s Auctioned Bride

CHAPTER 12

James pushed through the crowds, his heart in his mouth as he saw Maisie falling forward on the bench, her eyes glazed and unseeing.

He ran toward her, catching her just before she hit the grass. His arm went around her waist as Bram stepped away to give him room.

James pulled her back to her seated position, but she was limp and lifeless in his arms. There were cries of dismay from the crowd behind them and James did not wish to make any more of a scene.

With dogged determination, he nodded to Bram to deal with the crowds. He lifted Maisie into his arms and carried her through to where they had first met, through the orchard, and back into the castle.

Before he knew where his feet were taking him, he found himself in his room. The emerald greens of his house colors were all about them as he walked Maisie to the bed and laid her down. He gently stroked the hair from her face as her head hit the pillow.

“Maisie?”

She gave a low moan, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Maisie, can ye open yer eyes?” he asked gently.

Slowly the lids fluttered open, and her gaze met his. She seemed uncertain about where she was and shocked to see him. She tried to sit up abruptly, but she swooned again almost immediately, collapsing back into the pillows.

“I am sorry,” she whispered.

“Ye dinnae have anythin’ to be sorry for, ye fainted that’s all.”

“I have never swooned in me life,” she said weakly.

“That isnae true, ye almost fell over yerself the first time I met ye.”

She frowned at him, still coming back to her full senses. “That was different, I was tryin’ to escape.”

James felt a smile spread over his face. “Well, I am glad ye didnae feel the need to dae that on our weddin’ day.”

After a moment, he realized that his hand had come to rest in hers, almost unconsciously, and they both looked down at their intertwined fingers. Maisie swallowed.

“Dae ye need somethin’ to drink?” he asked.

“Nae, I should be gettin’ ready,” she said urgently. “Me faither will be worried. Where is Jean?”

“I’ll send word to them, so they ken ye’re well, just rest for a little time.” His frown deepened. “We have a long day ahead of us, that is why I told ye to get to bed.”

“Was that before or after ye tried to get me into yers?” she asked sarcastically, and James could not help but laugh softly. When he looked back at her she was examining him with interest.

“I havenae seen ye laugh before,” she said. “Ye look a little less like a monster when ye dae.”

“Dinnae say that before ye realize where ye are, lass.”

She frowned, looking about her curiously and James waited with bated breath, waiting until she?—

“Ye have brought me to yer rooms ?” she asked, aghast. “I will be ruined.” She tried to sit up, but he pushed her back into the pillows with a gentle hand. She was so weak she barely put up a fight.

“Ruined by yer husband? I dinnae think anyone will care.”

“Well, I care!” she said emphatically. “This is improper.”

“Ye might need to get used to me bed chamber someday, lass, when we have a bairn.”

Maisie scowled. “Ye agreed to me rules. We have separate bedrooms until… until…”

“Ye beg me.”

Maisie shuddered at the tone of his voice, those dark eyes penetrating her with each passing second.

She could feel the heat of his fingers in her own, and gooseflesh sprung up over her arm. He slowly began to massage her wrist, moving up her arm inch by inch.

She was trembling.

“Why are ye so determined to stay away from me, Maisie?” he asked, in a conversational tone that belied the lust in his eyes. The sound of her name on his lips made a dark heat bloom in her chest.

“Because ye cannae give me what I want.”

“And what dae ye want?”

“To wed for love,” she said sullenly. “And I ken that is nae what either of us will get from this marriage.”

To her surprise, his eyes sparked with mischief at her words.

“Love isnae everythin’, lass, and I can still give ye pleasure without us havin’ to care deeply for one another. Ye felt pleasure last night, did ye nae?”

She watched the lust intensify in his eyes as a blush spread over her cheeks. He leaned down toward her, his hand coming up to caress her neck, his cool fingers a balm to her heated skin.

“Ye didnae have me permission last night,” she breathed, “and ye dinnae have it now.”

“I suppose so,” he said as his hand wandered down her body, brushing over her shoulder and down her arm to her hips. “What shall we dae then, bride of mine? Perhaps we need to make some new rules, where I can win ye over.”

Maisie felt a jolt of excitement. There was no denying that her body desired him, she could feel the heat building between her legs even as she lay there. Perhaps she needed to amend her rules, rather than break them.

Her eyes flitted about the room and her brow furrowed as she saw a familiar object on the far side. It had been placed with some other wedding gifts.

She sat up and he pulled away, watching her carefully, but the dizziness had subsided.

“Where did that come from?” she asked, puzzled as she pulled herself from the bed, getting up slowly and padding across the room.

James twisted around and stood to follow her. Maisie reached a small table beside the fire and unfolded the familiar chessboard, running her fingers over the pieces happily.

“This is me faither’s,” she said, emotion clogging her throat. “He said he had a gift for me, Dora must have sent it,” she whispered.

“Dora?”

“Me old maid, from me old life,” she said. She flipped it over and emptied the pieces into her skirts. She looked up at James with a renewed excitement running through her veins.

“Dae ye play?”

“Aye, I play,” James said, eyeing Maisie suspiciously.

She thumbed over the pieces. They were made of fine marble, well-worn from years of use.

“Maybe we could have a game,” she began to say, but her breath caught when she saw his face. His nostrils were flared. His pupils were blown with desire, and she watched a slow smile spread over his face.

“Och, aye? A game to compete for the amendment to our deal?”

Maisie felt a thrill at his words. She liked the idea that her own rules did not dictate everything, that chance might play a factor in how their marriage would play out.

“All right. If I win, ye have to spend three evenin’s a week in the castle with me, nae seein’ to clan business,” she stated.

James’s eyes narrowed. “One evenin’.”

“Two.”

“Done.” He smirked. “And if I win?” Maisie cleared her throat, raising her eyebrows at him. “I get to show ye what pleasure without love can be in a marriage of convenience .”

He was positively vibrating before her now and the depth of need in his eyes was frightening to behold. Her fingers shook slightly as she held the board, knowing in the darkest part of her heart, that she wanted that as well.

I shall win anyway, she told herself. So, he will nae get the chance to have me.

“But we daenae have time,” James said. “We have to get ready for the ceremony.”

Maisie glanced at the clock. He wasn’t wrong, but she knew a quick game would calm her nerves; maybe it would calm his, too.

“I think we have time for one game,” she said.

“Maisie,” he said reproachfully, but his voice was a soft rumble, telling her that she had the advantage.

“ James ,” she responded, looking up at him through her lashes.

“We cannae hold up the entire weddin’ because ye want to play a game of chess.”

“Then we can renege on the new rules and go back as we were before,” she said, moving to close the board, and just like that, his hands had gripped her wrists, and he pulled her roughly toward him.

“Ye are playin’ with me, woman,” he said darkly.

“I thought that was the intention,” Maisie breathed.

James released her, his shoulders tense. “One game. When I win we get wed.”

Maisie moved to the desk and carefully placed each pawn in its place.

“When I win, I am lookin’ forward to gettin’ to ken ye a little better,” she said honestly. She flushed when his gaze fell on her, that same penetrating quality to it that seemed to look into her very soul.

“Chess is my favorite thing in the entire world,” she added. “So, there is nae better way of learnin’ about me .”

“That explains some of yer answers during the contest,” James said.

“I think that how a person plays chess can say a lot about them, now join me, won’t ye? Or are ye afraid of losin’, me laird?” she said.

He scowled. “I never lose, lass,” he said. “ Especially when the stakes are so high.” His eyes traveled over her body as he said it, making her shudder. She kept a cool composure, even as her lungs clawed for more air and more of him.

“Then prove it,” Maisie said.

Finally, James huffed, walked across to the other side of the desk, and took his seat.

“I prefer black, ye start,” Maisie said.

As they began to play, his attention was on the board, occasionally flicking to her as if judging his opponent. Maisie was sure she had the upper hand.

Finally, he moved his king’s pawn to king four. He sat back in his seat, so tall that even seated he was looking down at her from beneath his dark brow.

Is it gettin’ warm in here?

She examined the board. There were any number of ways to respond to his move. She could be aggressive and send out one of her knights or play it safe.

“Who taught ye how to play?” James asked. Maisie was surprised he wasn’t scowling for once as he asked the question.

She moved her king’s pawn to meet his. “Me faither,” she said. “We spent many hours playin’ chess and other games, between his business trips, that is.”

James hummed, moving his king’s knight out to join his pawn. “And then?”

Maisie thought of playing chess alone and with servants while her father was out on business.

She moved her queen’s knight out. “I would play with servants. Me maid, Dora, whom I mentioned, was actually very good, quite the opponent.”

He moved his king’s bishop out to meet her knight.

“That sounds lonely.”

She caught her breath. She wanted to be angry at him, for saying something so pointed and personal, and yet he didn’t sound like he was teasing her.

“What do ye ken of loneliness, growing up in yer mighty castle with more servants than ye can count?”

James grunted as she castled his king. “Loneliness comes in many forms.”

They fell into silence as they played, piece by piece. They were both focused on the game now, neither really anxious about getting to the wedding on time. It was not as though it could take place without them.

They played a game of strategy, each of them fortifying their defenses one by one.

As she moved her next piece too eagerly, their hands brushed as she passed him. She blushed and hastily moved her rook before snatching her hand back and looking away to hide her red face.

As the game went on he played more and more aggressively. She took a piece, he took another. The clock ticked, and the game got closer and closer.

“What if I told ye,” James finally said, breaking the silence, “that ye dinnae need to be lonely anymore?”

She nearly dropped her bishop as she moved it, glancing up at him. “Can ye really offer me such a thing?”

He looked into her eyes. His blue eyes were as deep and dark as the ocean. She wanted to drown in those eyes, wanted to dive into them and never surface.

“I ken that I have nae given ye enough time,” his voice was soft, “but I’d like to give ye more.”

James’ hand moved from his side of the board, and rather than reaching for a knight or a rook, he grabbed her hand, slowly but confidently, rubbing the back of it with his thumb.

“Will ye let me?” he implored.

Her breath hitched. “I?—”

He got up from his seat and came around the desk pulling her roughly into his arms, a wave of desire rushing through her.

“Maisie, I want to ken ye.”

Maisie tentatively reached her own hands up to his face, flushing red under his close attention.

“Ye want me to kiss ye, don’t ye, lass?” James asked, his voice rumbling over her lips. She was desperate to deny it but ruled by the desire pulsing through her.

“Aye!” she whispered, her heart fit to burst through her heaving chest.

He leaned down and locked his lips with hers. He tasted like whisky, tea, and honey. His mouth was soft and warm, strong as it commanded hers. She kept her mouth open, inviting him in. She was not sure if she even liked the man, but she wanted him.

She pulled away, panting slightly, gazing up at his dark eyes. She could not stop her lips from seeking more of him, over and over, returning to his embrace.

One of James’ hands remained on her face while the other wrapped around her and pulled her close. In response, she wrapped both hands around his neck. Was this what it was like to be with a man?

Eagerness awoke inside her. She had rarely in her life been aware of such want, but she recognized it now. She needed more and didn’t want this to end.

With a cry of surprise, she was lifted into the air as he placed her on the desk. His arm pushed the chess board aside and the pieces scattered all over the floor.

“Our game!” she exclaimed, “We dinnae see who won!”

“I won,” he grunted, his fingers smoothing over her skirts and, to her shock, pulling them up over her knees and leaning into her. His mouth ravaged her, his tongue plunging into it so forcefully she could barely catch her breath.

“I will show ye what it is to have a laird,” he muttered. “I willnae claim ye just yet, lass. I willnae take ye until ye beg for me, but right now I cannae hold back any longer.”

She fell back, her arms coming up to stop her from falling onto the desk. He pushed her skirts up to her waist, and she stared at him, shocked and desperate with desire.

“We shouldnae,” she said hesitantly.

“I won the game.”

“Ye did nae such thing!”

“And who will believe ye?” he asked ominously, as his head lowered to her waist and his hand spread across her belly. He held her in place as he pushed her legs aside and she shuddered, not quite knowing what he intended to do, but certain it would be just as he said—a lesson in pleasure.

At the first lap of his tongue against her most intimate flesh, she sat bolt upright, her hands buried in his hair, trying to pull him away, so shocking was the act itself.

He leaned back, his dark eyes filled with quiet authority.

“Hands on the desk, lass,” he said sternly. “This is me prize and I shall enjoy it.”

She let out a long moan of need as he returned his tongue to her body, sucking on the sensitive nub until she was writhing against him. Her hips pushed into him each time, feeling the wicked sensation of his tongue inside her body as she quivered and trembled above him.

After an age he rose to his feet, his gaze locking with hers as she watched him move his hand to her body. She felt a rush of arousal as he pushed one finger inside her. She stared at him in surprise as he pushed in all the way to the knuckle, his tongue coming out to wet his lips.

“Ye are so tight around me,” he whispered.

“Och, God,” she stammered as something wild came alive inside her, pressing herself forward as he circled his finger inside her.

Suddenly, he pulled free, and she felt his thumb replace the finger as he leaned over her, his face hovering above her as he began to thrust without mercy, his eyes roaming over her figure.

“Dae ye feel that, Maisie?”

“Yes! Please dinnae stop!”

“This is the pleasure I can give ye. If ye let me have ye, I will make ye mad with it. Ye’ll never want me to leave yer body.”

She gave a single last cry as she felt the wave of release so powerful it wrenched a loud groan from her throat.

She collapsed back on the desk as he pulled away from her, a wild light in his eyes as she looked at him.

“I think that should keep ye awake through the weddin’,” he said finally.

Maisie stared, astounded at what he had awoken in her body. She had never felt anything like it. Like flying, like drifting blissfully down from a mountain peak.

She frowned as he pulled her skirts back to the floor. She was not well versed in pleasuring men, but she could see the evidence of his arousal beneath his kilt.

“What about ye?” she asked.

He shook his head. “That was just a taste,” the dark heat in his eyes at that word made her blush furiously. “I’ll show ye real pleasure. Ye have felt what I can give ye, and I’ll wait until ye plead with me to feel it again, wife of mine.”