The Sinner Page 30

  The chieftain had sent Duncan to attend university in the Lowlands with Connor and Connor’s cousins, and he’d learned about Helen of Troy there. Moira had a face like that—the kind that could start a clan war. And worse for his jealous heart, she had lush curves and an innate sensuality that made every man want her.

  But for Duncan, Moira was the bright spark in his world.

  Moira pulled him down into a deep kiss that sent him reeling. Before he knew it, his hands were roaming over the feminine dips and swells of her body, and she was moaning into his mouth. They were in danger of dropping to the grass at their feet, where anyone could happen upon them, so he broke the kiss. One of them had to keep their head—and it wouldn’t be Moira.

  “Not here,” he said, though he knew damned well what they would do if they went to the cave. Anticipation caused every fiber of his being to throb with need.

  For the first weeks, they had found ways to please each other without committing the last, irrevocable sin—the one that could cost Duncan his life if his chieftain knew of it. He felt guilty for taking what rightfully belonged to Moira’s future husband. But it was a miracle that he’d held out against her as long as he had.

  At least he was confident that Moira wouldn’t suffer for it. She was a clever lass—she wouldn’t be the first to spill a vial of sheep’s blood on her wedding sheet. And Moira was not one to be troubled by guilt.

  Once they were inside the cave, they spread the blanket they kept there and sat close together.

  “The Irish chieftain’s son is rather amusing,” Moira said, poking his side with her finger.

  Moira’s father had not taken another wife after Connor and Moira’s mother died. So when they had guests, Moira sat on one side of her father, charming them, while her older brother Ragnall sat on his other side, frightening them.

  “The man was looking down the front of your gown all through supper.” And Duncan thought Moira let him. “I wanted to crush his head between my hands.”

  All his life, he’d minded his temper, both because he was bigger than other lads and because his position was precarious. He hated the way Moira made him lose control.

  “That’s sweet.” She laughed and kissed his cheek. “I was trying to make ye jealous.”

  “Why would ye do that?”

  “To make certain ye would meet me because we need to talk.” Her voice was serious now. “Duncan, I want us to marry.”

  Duncan closed his eyes and, for one brief moment, let himself pretend it was possible. He imagined what it would be like to be the man so blessed as to sleep with this lass in his arms each night and to wake up each morning to her sunny smile.

  “It will never happen,” he said.

  “Of course it will,” she said.

  Moira was accustomed to having her way. Her father, who had no other weakness, had spoiled her, but he would make his own choice on such an important matter.

  “Your father will never permit his only daughter to wed the nursemaid’s bastard son,” he said. “He’ll use your marriage to make an alliance for the clan.”

  Duncan pulled out his flask of whiskey and took a long drink. With Moira talking such nonsense, he needed it.

  “My father always lets me have what I want in the end. And what I want,” she said, her breath warm in his ear as she ran her hand up his thigh, “is you, Duncan Ruadh MacDonald.”

  With all his blood rushing to his cock, he couldn’t think. He pulled her into his arms, and they fell across the blankets, their legs tangled.

  “I’m desperate for ye,” she said between frantic kisses.

  He still found it hard to believe Moira wanted him—but when she put her hand on his cock, he did believe. For however long she wanted him, he was hers.

  * * *

  Duncan ran his fingers through Moira’s hair as she lay with her head on his chest. He fixed every moment of their time together in his memory to retrieve later.

  “I love ye so much,” she said.

  An unfamiliar sensation of pure joy bubbled up inside Duncan.

  “Tell me ye love me,” she said.

  “Ye know I do,” he said, though it made no difference as to what would happen. “I’ll never stop.”

  His feelings didn’t come and go like Moira’s. One week, she loved her brown horse, the next week the spotted one, and the week after that she didn’t like to ride at all. She had always been like that. They were opposites in so many ways.

  Duncan forced himself to sit up so he could see the sky outside the cave.

  “Ach, it’s near dawn,” he said and cursed himself. “I must get ye back in a hurry.”

  “I will convince my father,” she said as they dressed. “He’s no fool. He can see that you’re a warrior who will one day be known throughout the Western Isles.”

  “If ye tell your father about us,” he said, cupping her face in his hands, “that will be the end of this.”

  Moira could not be as naïve about it as she pretended.

  “He would let us wed if I carried your child,” she said in a small voice.

  Duncan’s heart stopped in his chest. “Tell me ye are taking the potion to avoid conceiving?”

  “Aye,” she said, sounding annoyed. “And I’ve had my courses.”

  He brushed his thumb over her cheek. It was strange, but he would love to have a child with her—a wee lass with Moira’s laughing eyes. He had no business having thoughts like that. It would be years before he could support a wife and child, and he’d never be able to provide for a woman accustomed to fine clothes and servants.

  The scare she gave him made him resolve, once again, to end it. Moira could hide the loss of her virginity, but a child was another matter.

  “If my father won’t agree, we can run away,” she said.

  “He’d send half a dozen war galleys after us,” Duncan said, as he fastened her cloak for her. “Even if we escaped—which we wouldn’t—ye would never be happy estranged from our clan and living in a humble cottage. I love ye too much to do that to ye.”

  “Don’t doubt me,” Moira said, gripping the front of his shirt. “I’d live anywhere with ye.”

  She believed it only because she’d never lived with hardship. And Duncan knew that even if he could give her a castle, he could never keep her. Moira was like a colorful butterfly, landing on his hand for a breathless moment.

  The sky was growing light when they reached the kitchen entrance behind the keep.

  “I love ye,” Moira said. “And I promise ye, one way or another, I will marry ye.”

  Duncan was a lucky man to have her love, even for a little while. He pulled her into one last mindless kiss and wondered how he would last until the next time.

  He lived on the precipice of disaster, never knowing which would befall him first—getting caught or having her end it. And yet, he had never felt happier in his life. He had to stop himself from whistling as he crossed the castle yard to his mother’s cottage.

  Damn, there was candlelight in the window. Duncan was a grown man of nearly twenty and didn’t have to answer to his mother. Still, he wished she were not awake to see him come in with the rising sun. She would ask questions, and he didn’t like to lie to her.

  Duncan opened the door—and his stomach dropped like a stone to his feet.

  His chieftain and Ragnall sat on either side of his mother’s table with their long, claymore swords resting, unsheathed, across their thighs. Rage rolled off them. With their golden hair and fierce golden eyes, they looked like a pair of lions.

  Duncan hoped they would not kill him in front of his mother and sister. Though he didn’t take his eyes off the two warriors dwarfing the tiny cottage, he was aware of his mother hunched on the floor in the corner, weeping. His eleven-year-old sister stood with her hand on their mother’s shoulder.

  “The old seer foretold that ye would save my son Connor’s life one day.” The chieftain’s voice held enough menace to fell birds from the sky. “That is the only reaso
n I did not kill ye the moment ye walked through that door.”

  Duncan suspected he would be flogged within an inch of his life instead. But a beating, however bad, meant nothing. He was strong; he would survive it. What weighed down his shoulders was the realization that he would never again hold Moira in his arms.

  His chieftain was speaking again, but Duncan found it hard to listen with the well of grief rising in his chest.

  “I suspect Connor and my nephews knew ye were violating my daughter!”

  When the chieftain started to rise from his chair, Ragnall put his hand on his father’s arm.

  “We are taking Knock Castle from the MacKinnons today, so fetch your sword and shield,” Ragnall said. “As soon as the battle is over, you, Alex, and Ian will sail with Connor for France. Ye can hone your skills there, fighting the English.”

  “By the time ye return,” the chieftain said, his eyes narrow slits of hate, “Moira will be far from Skye, living with her husband and children.”

  Duncan had known from the start that he would lose Moira. And yet, he felt the loss as keenly as if he’d been the expectant bridegroom whose bride is torn from his arms on his wedding night.

  The bright spark was gone from his life forever.

  The Dish

  Where authors give you the inside scoop!

  From the desk of Jill Shalvis

  Dear Reader,

  It’s been a fun, exciting year for my Lucky Harbor series. Thanks to you, the readers, I hit the New York Times bestseller list with The Sweetest Thing. Wow. Talk about making my day! You are all awesome, and I’m still grinning from ear to ear and making everyone call me “N-Y-T.” But I digress…

  In light of how much you, the readers, have enjoyed this series, my publisher is putting Simply Irresistible and The Sweetest Thing together as a 2-in-1 volume at a special low price. CHRISTMAS IN LUCKY HARBOR will be in stores in November—just in time to bring new readers up to speed for book three, Head Over Heels, in December.

  When I first started this series, I wanted it to be about three sisters who run a beach resort together. I figured I’d use my three daughters as inspiration. Only problem, my little darlings are teenagers, and they bicker like fiends. Some inspiration. But then it occurred to me: Their relationships are real, and that’s what I like to write. Real people. So I changed things up, and the series became about three ESTRANGED sisters, stuck together running a dilapidated inn falling down on its axis. Now that I could pull off for sure. Add in three sexy alpha heroes to go with, and voilà… I was on my way.

  So make sure to look for CHRISTMAS IN LUCKY HARBOR, the reprint of books one and two, available both in print and as an ebook wherever books are sold. And right on its heels, book three, Head Over Heels. (Heels? Get it?)

  Happy reading and holiday hugs!

  www.jillshalvis.com

  From the desk of Margaret Mallory

  Dear Reader,

  Bad boys! What woman doesn’t love a rogue—at least in fiction?

  I suspect that’s the reason I’ve had readers asking me about Alex MacDonald since he made his appearance as a secondary character in The Guardian, Book 1 of the Return of the Highlanders series.

  Alex is such an unruly charmer that I was forced to ban him from several chapters of The Guardian for misbehavior. Naturally, the scoundrel attempted to steal every scene I put him in. I will admit that I asked Alex to flirt with the heroine to make his cousin jealous, but did he have to enjoy himself quite so thoroughly? Of course, if there had been any real chance of stealing his cousin’s true love, Alex would not have done it. A good heart is hidden beneath that brawny chest. All the same, I told the scene-stealer he must wait his turn. When he laughed and refused to cooperate, I threw him out.

  Now, at last, this too-handsome, green-eyed warrior has his own book, THE SINNER. I hope readers will agree that a man who has had far too many women fall at his feet must suffer on the road to love.

  The first thing I decided to do was give Alex a heroine who was as loath to marry as he was. In fact, Alex would have to travel the length and breadth of Scotland to find a lass as opposed to marriage in general, or to him in particular, as Glynis MacNeil. Glynis’s experience with one handsome, philandering Highland warrior was enough to last her a lifetime, and she’s prepared to go to any lengths to thwart her chieftain father’s attempts to wed her to another.

  Alex has sworn—repeatedly and to anyone who would listen—that he will never take a wife. So the second thing I decided to do was surprise Alex partway through the book with an utterly compelling reason to wed. (No, I’m not telling here.) I hope readers appreciate the irony of this bad boy’s long, uphill battle to persuade Glynis to marry him.

  Helping these two untrusting souls find love proved an even bigger challenge than getting them wed. Fortunately, the attraction between Alex and Glynis was so hot my fingers burned on the keys. The last thing I needed to do, then, was force them to trust each other through a series of dangerous adventures that threatened all they held dear. That part was easy, dear readers—such dangers abound in the Highlands in the year 1515.

  I hope you enjoy the love story of Alex and Glynis in THE SINNER.

  www.margaretmallory.com

  From the desk of Cara Elliott

  Dear Reader,

  Starting a new series is a little like going out on a first date. I mean, doesn’t every girl get a little nervous about meeting a guy who is a complete stranger? Well, I have a confession to make: Authors get the heebies-jeebies too. Hey, it’s not easy to waltz up to a hunky hero and simply bat your eyelashes and introduce yourself!

  Okay, okay, I know what you’re thinking. How hard can it be? After all, unlike in real life, all I have to do is snap my fingers (or tap them along my keyboard) and presto, as if by magic, he’ll turn into a knight in shining armor, or a dashingly debonair prince, or… whatever my fantasies desire!

  Strange as it may sound, it doesn’t always flow quite so smoothly. Some men have minds of their own. You know… the strong, silent, self-reliant type who would rather eat nails than admit to any vulnerability. Take Connor Linsley, the sinfully sexy rogue who plays the leading role in TOO WICKED TO WED, the first book in my new Lords of Midnight trilogy. Talk about an infuriating man! He snaps, he snarls, he broods. If he didn’t have such an intriguing spark in his quicksilver eyes, I might have been tempted to give up on him.

  But no, patient person that I am, I persevered, knowing that beneath his show of steel was a softer, more sensitive core. I just had to draw it out. We had to have a number of heart-to-heart talks, but finally he let down his silky dark hair—er, in a manner of speaking—and allowed me to share some of his secrets. (And trust me, Connor has some very intriguing secrets!)

  I’ll have you know that I am also generous, as well as patient, for instead of keeping my new best friend all to myself, I’ve decided to share this Paragon of Perfection. I hope you enjoy getting to know him! (Pssst, he has two very devil-may-care friends. But that’s another story. Or maybe two!)

  Please visit my website at www.caraelliott.com to read sample chapters and learn more about this Lord of Midnight.

  From the desk of Jami Alden

  Dear Reader,

  I first met Krista Slater in my first romantic suspense for Grand Central, Beg for Mercy. All I knew about her then was that she was tough, no nonsense, dedicated to her work and committed to right, even if it meant admitting she’d made an enormous mistake in sending Sean Flynn to death row. But it was only after I’d spent about a month (and a hundred pages) with her in my latest book, HIDE FROM EVIL, that I learned she’s also an automobile expert who can hotwire a car in less than sixty seconds.

  And I knew Sean Flynn was loyal and honorable, with a protective streak a mile wide. I also knew that when he was forced into close quarters with Krista, he’d fall and fall hard, despite the fact she’d nearly ruined his life when she prosecuted him for murder. However, I didn’t know he listened to Alice in Chains u
ntil he popped in his earbuds and clicked on his iPod.

  After I finish every book, I’m amazed at the fact that I’ve written three hundred plus pages about people who exist only in my head. For about six months, I spend nearly every waking hour with them. Even when I’m not actually writing, they’re always around, circling the edges of my consciousness while I think up a sexy, scary story for them to inhabit.

  When I first started writing, I read books that said I shouldn’t start writing until I knew absolutely everything about my hero and heroine. And I mean EVERYTHING—stuff like the name of their best friends from kindergarten and their least favorite food. So I would try to fill out these elaborate questionnaires, wracking my brain to come up a list of my heroine’s quirks.

  I finally came to accept the fact that it takes me a while to get to know my characters. We need to spend some time together before I get a sense of what makes them tick. It’s like getting to know a new friend: You start with the small talk. Then you hang out, have conversations that go beyond the surface. You start to notice the little details that make them unique, and they reveal things from their pasts that have molded them into the people you’re coming to know.

  That’s when things get interesting.

  It was definitely interesting getting to know Sean and Krista in HIDE FROM EVIL. Especially finding out why, despite their rocky past, they were absolutely meant for each other. I hope you have as much fun with them as I did.

  Enjoy!

  www.jamialden.com

  Praise for the novels ofMargaret Mallory

  The Guardian