Highland Obsession by Dawn Halliday Read Free Book Online

leaned closer to her, and the stiff rod of his cock nestled between the cheeks of her buttocks.
    “I think you still want me, Sorcha.”
    “I hate you,” she whispered.
    Gently, he pried the edges of the wool away from her fingers and pushed it from her shoulders. “You are so beautiful. Let me show you.”
    “No.”
    The plaid fell to the floor, leaving her bare and exposed against him. His clothes were still wet from the rain, and she shivered.
    “Go to the bed,” he ordered softly. “Wait for me there. You will see what man you truly honor.”
    She stole a glance at his bed. It stood there, quiet and inviting, piled high with warm blankets. The hairs on her arms and legs rose, and she shivered again, not only from cold but from fear.
    “No.”
    His fingertip stole around her body and brushed over her puckered, sensitive nipple, eliciting a low groan from her.
    She hated him. She’d left their relationship with fond memories of him, and now . . . now he was on the verge of destroying her.
    He cupped her jaw in his hand, and the heat of his skin shot through her. “I need you, Sorcha. More than any other man in this world. I wish to keep you here with me, forever. Tonight I will show you.”
    “No.” She moved her lips, but only the subtlest sound emerged. She doubted he heard her at all. She glanced at the door. He had her trapped in his home, in his bedchamber, and had attempted to weave her in his spell of lust and need. There was no way she could escape.
    She had made a promise to Alan, under God. She belonged to Alan now.
    “Let me take you, keep you, hold you against me. You want me, Sorcha. I know you do. You always do.”
    She made a sound of dissent.
    “And I want you. I need you.” He ground his cock against her buttocks. “Can you feel it, Sorcha?”
    Sorcha closed her eyes.
    Cam’s voice lowered to a harsh whisper. “I need you tonight. Now. Go to the bed.”
    She moved away from him and took a step toward the bed, clutching her arms around her naked body. Her hand brushed over her stomach, still sticky with Alan’s release.
    “Go to the bed, Sorcha.”
    She nodded and took another step. Behind her, she heard the rustling sound of Cam kneeling to remove his boots.
    She closed her eyes, allowing the battle to rage within her, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides.
    She knew what she had to do.
    Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself. Then she spun around and sprinted for the door.
    Grasping the handle, she yanked it open and leaped out into the hall.

CHAPTER THREE

    T he castle, like Alan’s own lands, abutted the southern shore of the loch, and within the hour his mount turned down the twisted path leading to the castle grounds. As Alan neared, lights flickered through the scrubby trees, and approaching hoofbeats sounded from the direction of the gates. A shout filtered through the brush; someone must have spotted him. He drew MacLean’s horse to a halt and waited in the middle of the path. The animal pranced anxiously, picking up on his mood.
    Riders rounded the nearest bend and emerged from the mist. Alan counted six of them, all heavily armed, wide-awake, and wary. Sent by Cam, no doubt.
    A man Alan didn’t recognize led the group. He stared up at Alan, his dark eyes round as marbles in the dim light. “You’re trespassing on the Earl of Camdonn’s lands. Who are you and what business have you here at this hour?”
    “I am Alan MacDonald. I’ve come to fetch my wife.” Alan felt the weight of his broadsword, comfortably heavy at his left hip, and his dirk sheathed on his right. He scanned the men rapidly.
    “You’ll not find her here,” the leader said.
    “Sure yer not some Jacobite bastard come to murder our lord in his sleep?” asked another, his rawhide face drawn tight with suspicion.
    “This has naught to do with politics. All I want is my wife.” Alan pictured Camdonn Castle in his mind. Across the courtyard and through the parting mist, its white stone