Chapter One

Scottish Highlands 1748

Walker Endicott, tenth Earl of Briarwood, sat atop his stallion staring across the meadow at the McKenna keep. Sun glinted off the battlements. A soft breeze flew the McKenna standard. The scent of summer wildflowers coupled with the ever-present heather assailed his senses. Above it, the flag of Scotland flew. Bittersweet memories assaulted him, tormented him as he stared at the peaceful scene. For a moment in his life, he thought he had found love here, a forbidden love. Crissie could never be his. Too much stood between them. Though he could see her one last time.

He’d been gone now for a year. His travels took him to Paris then the Bordeaux region of France, family business of a necessity he couldn’t ignore even while his musings were of Crissie McKenna and this small part of the highlands where his heart belonged. When he closed his eyes, he could always see her lying in the dark green moss, her dark hair spread out around her, silver-blue eyes shimmering with passion. When he thought of her, he would always remember the sweet fragrant scent of orange blossoms along with the musk of a warm willing woman. His return was in question. While he’d written to her, he received no response in return.

He didn’t like himself very well, the way he treated the lass the day he left the country and Crissie behind. What he’d willingly as well as eagerly taken from her a year ago had been hers to give. So many times he told himself it wasn’t his fault. She practically begged him. Still, he should have been a gentleman and told her no. She had a way of bewitching him, her piquant face, slightly turned up nose coupled with the simmer of those sensual eyes always enthralled every sense he possessed. Whenever he imagined her arms around him, her legs cradling him between them, he was reminded of her, wrapped in the sweet memories she evoked.

He didn’t, could not have told her no to save his soul.

No, he wanted her with an explosive need within himself he’d never felt before. His body succumbed to the months of denial he inflicted on himself. Never before in his life had he been celibate for so long. The truth of the matter was that he felt that way every time he saw her, stood close to her, caught the elusive scent of oranges and lemons. The silken length of her hair never failed to draw him, provoking him to touch. The soft curve of her breasts always left his fingers itching to possess. That day she was a fire in his soul he couldn’t battle. He could not tell her no when all he wanted for the last month or so was to possess her, claim her as his. She could never be his.

She ran after him.

Begged.

So, he did.

Still, he wouldn’t be staring at the keep situated high on the hilltop if he had not been forced into another mission involving the unveiling of the McKennas. He would never have returned. Because she never answered his letter, he assumed she didn’t want to see him again. Perhaps she couldn’t forgive him for taking what she offered, her innocence. It was his now. Maybe he couldn’t forgive himself for the rutting bastard he was that day.

Refusal of the assignment had been first and foremost on his lips until he realized if someone else was given the task, they might well ferret out the truth about the McKenna clan, a story best left untold. If the truth were to be discovered, he feared for Crissie. He had to get her out of the highlands even if she protested. He would find a way. The list of reasons in his mind to say nay to the assignment was short, but he felt if he’d given in to his superiors, they would have listened.

Ah, but he thought that perhaps he should take a room in the village beyond instead of assuming he might be welcome in the keep. He wasn’t at all sure of the greeting he would receive from the McKenna lass or her brothers. Despite his resolve, he yearned for her, thought of little else when he was at rest than the feel of her lush curves pushed softly against his length. God’s fish, when he closed his eyes, he vividly recalled her naked, sunlight shimmering over the gentle slope of her hips and the ripe swell of her breasts. He remembered the lush fall of her dark black hair as he wound the silken length through his fingers.

Walker let out a long slow breath of air before hitching in another deep gulp. Prudence dictated he should avoid her. Should do everything in his power not to see Crissie McKenna. He couldn’t do that. She stirred a fever in his blood he couldn’t douse. Even now when he tried desperately to put thoughts of her to the back of his mind, the image of her with moistly parted lips, her long hair curling down her back and through his fingers sent heat straight to his loins. He recalled the way her lush breasts with the rose tips pushed against his chest, the way her sweetly rounded buttocks felt beneath his hands.

“You’re an utter ass and a foolish idiot,” he mumbled, starting his horse down the trail to the keep not to the village. His heart hammering beneath his ribs, he knew he had to see her; could not rest this night until he discovered the truth of their heated parting. He would find a way to keep her safe from the intrigue he was forced to take part in.

She never wrote him. He wondered at that after he sent a letter to her at least once a week until he realized she did not answer back. But then, perhaps she decided what happened between them the last day was for her a mistake. Well, if she thought that way, she was right. It was tantamount to the biggest mistake she’d probably made in her entire young life. To him, he would never forget the feel of her body next to his. For the rest of his life, he would remember. He couldn’t have her though. Couldn’t do right by his mistakes. The wrong he inflicted would never be righted.

If her brothers learned what passed between them that long ago day, he might very well be giving his life into their hands. She wouldn’t say anything. It was, after all, her virtue at stake. Still, he decided he needed to stay alert to any pending situation.

The short distance, now that he was almost at his destination, seemed to go on endlessly. Beneath his chest his heart pounded, thundering against his ribs. As to what he would say to Crissie McKenna when he saw her, he didn’t know. In his mind, he thought of a thousand different things. None of which satisfied him. Possibly, she would speak first taking the initiative, setting the stage for the direction of his comments. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck. Unending nausea settled in his gut.

Why didn’t you write? was one of the first thoughts rambling in his head. Somehow, after all this time, he didn’t think it prudent for him to blurt something like that out before he actually had a chance to find out what she was feeling for him. The only women he had encounters with were widows when he was out of town, his mistress when he was home. He never bedded virgins. Well, what they did that day in the secluded glen could hardly be considered bedding.

Bloody eyes, but she might have married someone in the last year. He couldn’t fault her for that since he gave her no indication that he might want her for a wife. Nor did he promise to return.

He did want her every way possible.

He couldn’t have her though. Couldn’t ask her to wed him. That fact gnawed at his gut, churned in his stomach until it soured. The taste of that fact so bitter he couldn’t swallow. To ask Crissie McKenna to be his wife and have his children was a dream that would never come true. He would have to live with that fact, accept whatever she was willing to give. She wasn’t the kind of woman to become a man’s mistress. In any case, neither her brothers nor her father would ever allow anything such as that.

As he approached the gate, he was sure he heard a low murmur of voices rise around him. The sound so bitter and angry, he didn’t understand. He wondered if it was because he was a captain in the English army. Now, for all practical purposes he was a civilian. Something hit him on the shoulder. Another missile hit him in the small of his back. He found himself pummeled from all sides. Curses were spewed at him.

What the devil?

He sat up straighter, looking around for the assailant or assailants, knowing the English were still not liked around these parts. He had not expected this type of welcome. After the battle of Culloden, he well understood the sentiments. This was far too brazen to be about that battle. It seemed personal to him. Hell, he wasn’t even wearing the soldier’s uniform. He was dressed in civilian clothing.

“Sassenach!” The jeer hit him hard. “Sassenach!” was called out over and over again. A tomato hit his face, juices sliding downward pooling beneath his collar. Taking out a handkerchief he wiped it away.

“Bloody Englishman, go home!”

“Yer not welcome here after what ye did.”

What I did?

He ducked the next pebble hurled at him, dismounting before handing the reins to a young man who suddenly appeared from nowhere. By mere inches he avoided another small rock directed at him. Beneath his breath, he swore as he headed toward the main hall. Has everyone gone mad?

“What the devil is going on?” he asked the lad, hoping the boy knew something he could pass on to him as he followed the young man into the stable.

“People around here don’t like the English. You in particular have stoked their rage. Best you don’t let either of the McKenna brothers or the laird see you. Doubt if you’re welcome. Might not live long enough to discover the truth. Secrets are never kept in small villages. Probably should mount on up and ride out of here if you value your life. Do ye want me to take care of your horse?”

Sometimes little boys had too much to say. Sometimes they didn’t say enough. “Yes.” He wasn’t going anywhere until he got to the bottom of the hate. “Don’t go too far away though. I might be leaving sooner than I planned.”

A seething anger built inside as his long strides brought him closer to his destination. The building anger was directed at Crissie. She had to be the source of this debacle.

“They won’t like you any better in the village,” the lad went on to say. “Of all the McKennas, Crissie’s one of their favorites. She holds a special place in everyone’s heart.”

Blessed hell, he would have never expected her to say anything about that day. He was more perplexed than ever. It was then he saw her. His heart caught in his throat, raw with emotion. Rushing after the few women who deigned to throw the pebbles at him, she was shooing them off with her hands. Unconfined, her long dark hair was waving in the breeze, curling softly around her shoulders as it fell from the pins she used to hold the mass in place. He wished he could see her eyes; sure, they were brimming with passion the burning hunger he so vividly remembered. The women seemed to get the idea, leaving as she bade them.

Walker turned his gaze to his savior, waving her arms, his protector. He stifled the chuckle welling up in his throat. When he caught her attention, she stopped, her hands falling to her sides. For several seconds she stared fixedly at him. She stepped back; her hands now clutched at her throat as if she just now realized who he was. A moment later her skirts were swirling around her ankles as she turned from him. Her pace quickened until she was running toward the hall.

Bloody hell.

His breath caught. She was more beautiful than before if that was possible. More than ever, he knew he had to talk to her, discover the truth about her strange reaction. By his estimation she should have been running to him not away. His strides were longer and faster than hers. He caught her arm, twirling her around. Her eyes were blazing pools of molten blue-silver. By God, she was glorious in her anger. Never before had he seen her like this. The need to enfold her in his arms surfaced with a vengeance.

Yet, the fury she exhibited burned a hole deep in his heart. By the way her eyes shimmered and her body tensed he could swear what she felt for him at this moment was a deep-seated rage. He didn’t understand. She was going to tell him if he had to tear the words from her throat.

“Let me go, Sassenach,” she gritted out between clenched teeth while trying to wrench her arm from his grasp. “You don’t belong here. Go home to your precious Englishmen. To Ireland, to wherever it is you come from. Leave me alone. I don’t want you here.”

Suddenly, his calm was held onto by the slimmest of threads. “No, not until you explain to me what is wrong with you, with everyone.” With one hand, he gestured to the yard. “Why are people throwing rocks and vegetables at me? What the hell have I done? I haven’t even been in the highlands for a year. We need to go somewhere private.”

Once more, he looked around the yard. It seemed they had an audience he didn’t want. The people of the clan quietly fanned out around them, belligerence on their faces.

“Now you want to know? Now you care? Yes, it’s been a year, a very long year for me at least.” Her icy words were coated in sarcasm while she still tried to jerk her arm away. “Let me go.” Her voice held steel.

“Yes, now I want to know. Yes, now I care. Would it be so hard to explain? I’ll not let you go until I’m satisfied.”

He watched her sway slightly. She was thinner than he remembered, her breasts larger. She was just as beautiful, maybe more so than in his memory, her hair as black, her eyes as silver. He struggled with a breath of air as his gaze traveled the length of her body. A slow realization coupled with a question formed.

“You’ve no rights here, Walker. Go back to England or Ireland or wherever it is you call home,” she repeated as if he didn’t hear her the first time. “I dinna want to see you ever again.” She unexpectedly fell dead still, her eyes nearly crossing. Her voice lost the steel while she whispered, “Please…”

Suddenly, the top of her gown was damp, the wet stain growing larger as they stood in the hot noonday sun. A heated blush spread across her face. He watched with a fascination and wonder he didn’t understand as he tried to piece together the reasons for this. The thought hit him full in the gut. Unreasonable anger simmered, escalated with a resounding force he couldn’t put aside. His brain didn’t work as quickly as the words tumbling from his mouth.

“By God, you little harlot. No wonder you don’t want to see me. No wonder you never answered my letters.”

Unable to help the seething fury, he pushed her away from him. She stumbled. Her eyes blazing, the rage she now felt at his words evident in the changing color of her eyes. Christ, he shouldn’t have said that. He didn’t mean it although there was a shadow of doubt in his mind.

“How dare you!”

She whirled, her dress rising above her ankles, running full out away from him. Her skirts were hiked nearly to her knees so she could take longer steps.

He wasn’t sure what possessed him. All his instincts kicking in told him to mount up and ride in the opposite direction. He understood he should put miles between them. Instead, without batting an eyelid, Walker followed her into the hall, matching her stride for stride then up the steps to the rooms above, oblivious to the possible scandal.

He didn’t care.

Just wanted to glean the truth.

When she thought to slam the heavy wooden door to her chamber in his face, he caught it with his boot. Pushing it open, he stepped inside fascinated by the scene enfolding in front of him. Slowly, he shut the door behind them. He leaned against the solid wood; his arms crossed in front of him as he surveyed the dimly lit room.

A baby was crying in a crib near her bed. He could barely see one tiny fist waving in the air. His gut churned over while his heart forgot to beat. Even though questions abounded, deep in his soul he knew the babe was his. She hovered over the crib, caressing the baby even while her shirt was slipping from her body then her sodden chemise.

Her milk-swollen breasts were naked to his gaze. Yes, she was indeed larger. He understood why. Now, she wore nothing from the waist up, her breasts swaying beautifully as she picked up the child. She didn’t look at him. It seemed she pretended he wasn’t there, in her room, watching her.

He neglected to breathe.

It appeared she was more concerned about the babe than she was about her partial nudity. While he watched spellbound, she picked up a small blanket then the baby who seemed to stop crying the moment Crissie held the child. He was so intrigued; he couldn’t move nor could he remove his gaze from the captivating scene before him.

Without sparing him a glance, she sat down in a large wing chair near the fireplace. The babe’s greedy little lips fastened onto a nipple. His breath caught what there was of it, captured in the back of his throat. She didn’t look at him though she must have sensed him watching her. The small blanket she’d been holding covered her a few seconds later, the child’s head as well as her breasts.

Walker didn’t understand the sudden rise of fury to his chest, didn’t comprehend the compelling need to watch her feed his child or the protectiveness that filled him so completely. Abruptly, he didn’t have a doubt in the world that this child in front of him at Crissie’s breast was his.

Purposeful long strides took him to a spot in front of the pair. He needed to know if the child was a boy or a girl. Supposed he would have to wait until they finished with the meal. Wasn’t sure if he possessed the patience for such a thing. All he wanted was to hold the babe in his arms, uncover his arms and legs, count toes and fingers.

Outraged at her audacity, he pulled the covering from the child’s head. “The babe needs to breathe.”

She gasped. Brilliant red heat flooded her cheeks, her dismay clearly evident in the narrowing of her eyes. For a second, she looked down at herself before lifting her angry gaze to him. Still, she said nothing. He wanted to know what was going on behind those silver-blue eyes.

“Don’t want my child to smother to death while eating. Is the babe a boy or a girl? Crissie? Don’t you think I deserve to know?”

Even while he asked, he wasn’t sure if she would tell him. Despite her reticence, he would discover everything. Now, she glared at him unspoken emotions glistening in her eyes. She had no reason to be angry with him.

“If I’m a harlot, you’ve no rights here. So, you dinna ken whose child this is, do you? Why should I tell you something you’ll take exception to?”

She didn’t make an effort to cover herself. Her resentment was so very evident. He deserved what she tossed out at him. Somehow, he would find a way to make amends.

In any case, she must know he wouldn’t allow her to continue on that vein. True, he said something with no basis. He wasn’t going to allow her to constantly throw it in his face just so she could continue the argument. She switched sides, her breasts lush and beautiful, swollen with the milk feeding his child. They swayed. He controlled his desperate need to reach out and caress the soft fullness revealed to him. An overwhelming rush of emotions nearly sent his knees buckling followed by an overwhelming fury that she never had the decency to tell him his child existed.

“Why didn’t you tell me? You could have written. I would have been here for you. You didn’t have to go through this by yourself.” His voice was so very much calmer than his seething emotions.

“I did write. I wasn’t by myself. I’ve my family. At least they don’t burn hot then cold.” She began to hum softly seemingly to the babe in her arms, ignoring him or perhaps ignoring the fact she was naked from the waist up.

“Nay.” One hand slashed through the air. “Nay, you did not. Don’t lie to me. You wrote no letters. I received nothing in the mail.”

How dare she lie to his face? If she wrote to him, he would have arrived in the highlands before she could even blink. Would have cancelled all the business that seemed so important at the time. He would have been here for her.

A little bubble of milk appeared on the child’s lips as the infant pulled away to stare at him with large golden-brown eyes, his eyes. The lashes closed slowly then opened again when the babe seemed to notice him staring at him, noticed the caress of his finger along the soft cheek of the infant.

His.

“You can believe what you will. Roby, you know my brother, delivered them for me to Inverness. They should have been received.”

She rose, walking toward her wardrobe, the babe on her shoulder. With great finesse she managed to cover herself with a dry chemise. She walked around the room until a tiny burp issued forth from the baby.

With all his heart, Walker wanted to believe her. Every instinct he possessed cried out to him she told the truth. There was no reason for her to lie. Still, the facts were in front of his face. He received no mail from anyone here, from any McKenna. If he had, he would have replied immediately.

While he wanted to jerk the babe from her arms, he did not. “What is the child’s name?”

She whirled, still clutching the baby to her shoulder, one hand cupped around the baby’s head. “Now you care? Now after over a year you want to know details?”

While she still sounded furious, her words were soft, hesitant as if she hoped for something more. Besides what he offered right now, his strength and support, all she could possibly hope for was for him to wed her.

He could not.

“If you had told me, I would have been here. Doubt it not,” he reminded her, his voice soft. “I will take care of the two of you.”

“If? If you say?” One of her finely sculpted dark eyebrows rose toward the heavens. “If is one pretty big word to be ignored for a year.”

“Then the babe is three months old?” He was calculating backward from the day he left, the day he took her virginity. Blessed hell, but he wished she had bothered to tell him.

“Yes.”

“The name?”

He wasn’t sure what demons drove him; fury, curiosity, possessiveness. The list could certainly go on. If he so desired, the name would be changed. She would not saddle him with some Scottish name that would haunt his child forever. A good Irish name would be appropriate.

She stared at him, tears brimming in her eyes spiking her lashes. “He’s been baptized. Ye cannot change his name.”

“Him? I’ve a son.”

His heart swelled with pride coupled with the fury he had not known before. He could never get back this time with his son. He felt robbed. Cheated. By God, he would not squander any more time with the babe.

“His name?” he queried again trying to keep the tenor of his voice in check. If he had to shake the words from her, he would. Damn his good intentions.

She blinked a few times. He wasn’t sure if the gesture was to rid herself of the evident moisture in her eyes or to infuriate him further. He was sure he was going to misplace all sense of patience. His hands fisted at his sides, he glared at her and waited. Hoping she understood in this he would not be denied.

Slowly, Crissie looked at him, a soft expression suddenly in her eyes as she pulled in a long breath of air. “I’m sure you won’t like it. You have no say since the child is not yours.”

“The hell he isn’t.”

He never realized those long months he spent with her before their intimacy she could be so infuriating. Before, she’d always seemed so biddable, sweet natured.

This time her smile was soft and beguiling, tempting him with a promise. What that promise was he wasn’t at all sure, retribution possibly. He had the uneasy feeling everything she told him before was a lie.

“Ian Walker McKenna.” Her whisper reached his ears with a shudder and a sigh. “I’m sure you won’t want another man’s son with your name.”

“Ian Walker Endicott,” he told her, his voice countenancing no argument. He wished she would stop, remembering his earlier accusation. “The last name will be changed. You can count on that. You and I both know this boy is mine. He will be legitimatized. My heir.”

“So, you say.” She set the child in the crib.

Turning her back to him she slipped out of the wet gown before quickly putting another one on.

Desperate to set this untenable situation to rights, he stabbed his hands through his hair thinking of the right words. After a few more seconds of watching her back while wishing he could see all of her, “I’m sorry I called you a harlot. There was no call to do something like that. I would take back the words if I could. I cannot.” Once more he thrust his hands through his hair. “It’s just that…” He didn’t know what to say. One time. One time and he sired a child. It wasn’t unheard of. He knew it happened, just not to him.

In his ecstasy, he forgot about protection, forgot she was untried in the ways of love and contraception. He’d been so shocked when she rode after him, stunned when she wanted him to make love to her. Lord, but the heat of the coupling, the frenzy, the desperate need she generated in his loins, he didn’t have the good sense to withdraw. Didn’t know if he could have done such a thing even if he thought of it.

He hadn’t.

“Is there anything else you would like to know?” Her voice was soft in the stilted silence of the chamber.

He didn’t answer. He was pacing the room, distraught by this, frustrated by the lost year, afraid he would lose his son if he didn’t immediately rectify this situation. The boy was going to live with him. If she wanted to be part of the lad’s life, she would have to come with them. Hell, from the beginning, he meant to take her with him. They were leaving now, this afternoon. Staying where her people despised him wasn’t tenable. He didn’t care who would try to stop them. They were leaving within the hour.

“No?” she asked seeming bemused now that she thought he would go without a fight.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes. Pack a small bag for you and Ian. Something you can hang from a saddle. We’re going home.”

Walker didn’t wait for an answer or a comment. He left with every intention of speaking his mind to her father. He would return as soon as he set everything to rights. He heard her last comments just before the door banged shut behind him.

“Like hell I am. I’m already home.”

Stepping back inside the room. “If you don’t pack a bag, you’ll be wearing that same gown from this moment until your things can be shipped to my home in Ireland. Your father won’t, can’t stop me from taking my son no matter how much he’d like to do just that. I’m sure you would like Ian to have a few things to change into from one day to the next.” He stopped talking. His angry gaze bored into her. When he started again, “Of course, you don’t have to come with us. It’s your choice.”

“You’re talking to father?” Her fingers wove into the fabric of her gown, her eyes wide while drops of moisture clung to her lashes. “He won’t let you take my son.”

“I guarantee you, he won’t say nay to this. A man should raise his son. Your father understands that.”

“As should his mother.”

He smiled at her. It was the first since he saw her in the courtyard. “So true. I’m glad we are in agreement. Of course, it is solely up to you if you accompany me. I won’t force you. Your choice.”

~ * ~

Crissie was so incensed all she wanted was to throw things at him; yearned to deny him his son. She wouldn’t. At this moment, she truly didn’t understand what he was about. Why he wanted her to pack a bag. He wasn’t going to take Ian from here. The right wasn’t his. Deep in the farthest reaches of her heart, she knew her father would not stop Walker. Ian was his son. Connal would expect them to work this out between them as adults. A wobbly breath of air slipped into her lungs.

She sat down next to the crib, stroking the babe’s back, cooing soft words as she watched him sleep, his little bum high in the air. Ian was her life. Once she thought herself in love with Walker. That emotion was precisely why she threw herself at him that long ago day. Thoughts of Walker like this as an infant gave her reason to grin.

Nay, he was not so sweet now. There were no sweet bones, sinews or muscles in his body.

When she saw him in the courtyard less than thirty minutes ago, her heart had stopped beating. He was everything she remembered, tall and powerful. His legs so long, thighs so heavily muscled his buff britches fit as if they were a second skin. His brilliantly polished black knee-high boots shone in the sunlight. The shoulders she clung to so many times were broad. One strand of his tawny hair slipped to fall across his forehead, shielding his golden-brown eyes from view. In her estimation there was no one more handsome, more striking and commanding. Her pulse quickened at the sight. She ran from him, not because she was afraid of him but because she was terrified what he might think when he saw the child.

Her worst fears were confirmed when he called her a harlot. He thought she gave herself to another man. Heat stained her cheeks. One time. She got pregnant from one time with him. She never thought that would happen. Lilly, her brother Brady’s wife, told her it was possible after the fact. Unfortunately, by the time she knew and confided in her, it was too late to take any precautions.

What was she to do now?

He said they were leaving, going to Ireland.

Nay.

Her heart lurched to her throat. He was asking her to give up the only life she knew.

For a few tenuous minutes she struggled to breathe. Fought for control of her emotions as they splintered into a million shards inside her chest. He wanted her to pack two bags small enough to be tied to the saddle. He was taking Ian, with or without her.

I have no choice.

Suddenly, she stood straight, racing around the room, desperate to complete what he asked before he returned. He wouldn’t wait. Wouldn’t give her two more seconds to finish putting their things together. So much was needed. She had to think. His determination coupled with the anger she saw in his eyes was terrifying. She didn’t know he could be this way. He’d always been so gentle and sweet, given her anything she asked for. His kisses melted her heart. She turned to liquid in his arms.

She thought she loved him.

That was then.

This is now.

He was a dangerous formidable man. Not one to trifle with.

Tossing clothing from the armoire, she heaved a huge sigh as she stared silently at the items strewn on the floor. She didn’t know what to take. She’d never been farther away than Inverness. Her father took her brothers to Edinburgh on occasion. She never went with them, content to stay in this tiny part of Scotland. The highlands were all she’d ever known. Tears ran down her cheeks.

He expected her to travel to Ireland.

She didn’t think Ian was old enough to make such a journey.

An hour passed by then two. She sat in the wing chair watching the clock, her hands trembling, her breath shaky. The bags were set at the door. Still, he didn’t come. It would be time to feed her son. He would have to wait to leave. If he objected, she would make him wait. After all a babe had to be fed. He might be cruel to her, never to the child.

She must have dozed. The sound of the door opening woke her. When she opened her eyes, Walker stood over her, hands on his narrow hips, his very presence commanding. She wanted to fight him, dispute his dictates. Taking Ian from this home was not something she wanted for her son. It didn’t seem she had much of a choice though.

“Are you ready?”

She rose then nodded to the two bags resting by the door. “He will need to eat soon.”

“When he does, we’ll stop. Perhaps you can learn to feed him while we ride,” he told her with no emotion whatsoever as he picked up the bags before holding the thick wooden door for her.

In her arms, Ian nestled against her breasts, his sleepy-eyed stare so endearing she felt the twinge of her milk as it started to let down for him. “He needs to eat now.”

Halfway out, he stopped. “Is this some ploy to keep us here longer than necessary? It won’t work.”

“If I don’t feed him this instant, I will have to change my clothing. Lest you forget what happened last time. You understand I would not be able to go far without sickening if I was forced to ride in a wet gown.”

“Very well.”

She heard his impatient grunt before she turned her head to hide the smile. “It won’t take long. Twenty minutes or so then we’ll be on our way. You will not lose much of your precious time on this irrational quest of yours. Still, you will have to learn to deal with the needs of a babe. Your child. You will come to realize Ian comes first in everything. A new concept for you, I’m sure.”

He sat down to watch. She understood all too well if she tried to hide from him, he wouldn’t allow it. Resigned, she undid the front fastenings, smiling when Ian’s tiny rosebud mouth latched on to her. She always felt such joy when he nuzzled into her, his lips sucking on her.

Some of her anger dissipated while Walker was gone. Now, it returned full force as she watched him, his gaze riveted on her breasts. He would allow her no privacy. She understood. Would have to accept. Those days before he left, she wanted him desperately. He sparked a desire in her no one else ever had. Still did. Even now, when he acted so very arrogant and condescending, she couldn’t deny the inferno sweeping through her body when he looked at her. Somehow, she thought, if he would just kiss her, she could forgive him any and all indiscretions. She would willingly go with him anywhere without one objection.

Nay, that was not true. She would not go willingly as his whore.

By the tight line of his mouth coupled with the narrowing of his eyebrows, she didn’t for one second believe a kiss might be forthcoming. He was angry, furiously so. Absently, she stroked Ian’s cheek, cupped the downy top of his head with her palm. This little boy was so very precious. She didn’t understand how Walker could even think to take a three-month-old baby overland to Glasgow then by ship to Ireland. In her estimation he wasn’t thinking straight.

Ian seemed to sense her mood. He looked up, his golden-brown eyes staring at her while his little fist was clenched on her breast. She switched sides with him, giving her the other nipple. He would be finished soon. They would be on their way. To what end would this unsolicited journey lead them. She doubted if it would lead to anything good.

“I would have thought my father would put a stop to this sudden nonsense,” she said as curiosity began to get the best of her. Her father had not been angry with her when he finally discovered she carried a child within her. Though she knew he was disappointed. He and her mother supported her through the long trying months before Ian was born. The delivery had not been easy. She swore at the absent father, cursed him as the pains became too much to bear. Then the sweet innocent babe she now held in her arms came screaming into her life. Without a doubt Ian Walker McKenna was the most priceless being on this earth. He was her sunshine.

“Connal understood a man’s got to raise his child. I didn’t force you.” He stopped for a moment. “When we made love. Suppose I’ve got you to thank for that.” His voice was a sultry soft murmur, showing none of the impatience she was sure he was feeling at the delay.

No, at the time I told father I loved you. Also told him you returned the love. I was a foolish child. No longer. I’m walking into this with my eyes wide open.

She lifted her shoulders, trying not to disturb the babe. “Everyone saw me race out of here to catch you. They also saw my slightly disheveled state when I returned more than an hour later. Never thought to hide it. Never thought there would be consequences.”

“Guess you wouldn’t.” He sounded insincere to her ears.

Crissie remembered how in awe she felt, how strange to know the man she loved reciprocated her feelings. She was floating on air when she returned to the keep. Naivety led her to believe he loved her. He never said the words. Never would, she was sure. All he wanted of her now revolved around the child.

“One might say I had absolutely no idea what happened to me. My feelings…”

He did take advantage in ways though. She didn’t understand at the time what she felt was lust not love. He alone spurred the fires in her body she didn’t understand. He could do that to her. That day he stole her heart. Since then, she’d been trying to take it back. Now, when she looked into his eyes, she was sure the feat would be impossible.

Roby, her older brother knew sooner than anyone else. She didn’t know how he kenned she was with child. Didn’t ask. He stood by her. Went with her when she told their parents. Connal’s disappointment in her was so very easy to read in his eyes. If she could, she would have melted into the walls. Roby placed reassuring hands on her shoulders. Even before she told them, she thought to make some excuse to go after Walker. She was mightily glad she did not. These extra months without him near gave her much needed time to think or to vanquish him from her heart.

What was it about men that they needed to control every situation?

“What were your feelings, Crissie?”

“What were yours?” she shot back unwilling to put her heart on the line.

She would never tell him how much she thought she was in love with him. Never tell him how broken she’d been when he never wrote. Or when he didn’t care enough about her or her child when she told him of Ian.

“At the time, shocked. I’m not going to deny anything. I wanted you from the first moment I saw you. Made a promise to myself I would have you.” For a few seconds he looked away. “No matter what.”

Her laughter was bitter, strained to her limits. “It worked out for you then, didn’t it? You got more than you bargained for.”

“Yes, but not as I planned,” he spoke slowly, his gaze resting on her lips, moving lower to linger on her breasts. “I gave up my plan because you were too much a lady for me to take advantage of you. I knew you would never lie with me without benefit of marriage.” He lifted his broad shoulders, the fabric of his shirt straining against the muscles. His smile failed to reach his eye. “Then you did.”

“When I threw myself at you, you didn’t have any trouble doing just that. Did you?”

“No. It was all I’d wanted since I was assigned here. Everyone told me I didn’t stand a chance in Hades with you. I did woo you tenderly still hoping I would taste a small part of you. When I was called back to Ireland, I thought a few kisses was all I would get from you. Then I got more.”

“A hell of a lot more.”

She thought she saw him wince. Probably because of her profanity not because of what she implied.

She so needed to end this conversation. Ian was staring at her, no longer nursing. “We should go now. If you want to get off before it gets dark, that is.”

Crissie rose. After burping Ian then walking him to sleep, she wrapped another blanket around the sleeping child.

With her back stiff, unknowing what was before her, she followed Walker Endicott, the tenth Earl of Briarwood from her chamber, from the keep where she grew up. In favor of a new one, she left her old life behind. They rode for a few hours. Her arms grew sore and stiff from holding Ian. Her back ached. She bit down on her lip in a feeble attempt to keep the pain at bay. He completely disregarded her, overlooked the possibility that she might be struggling in his efforts to get as far away from McKenna land as soon as possible.

He let her catch up to him. “Can you make it another hour to the inn or would you like to make camp here?”

Her jaw dropped at the two impossible decisions he presented her with. She hoped he would offer to carry Ian for her. Warring with the option of telling him the truth she blurted. “I cannot possibly carry him any farther without dropping him. There is no way I want a three-month-old child to spend the night on the ground in the wilds. Do you think of no one except yourself?”

His once mild features changed to anger, his brows narrowing. “You should have said something. Do you expect me to read your mind?” His low harsh voice was a side to him she’d never seen. He reached for Ian, cradling him in his strong hold.

Tears pricked the back of her throat. Her arms tingled where the blood seemed to rush back into the numb limbs and fingers. She turned away from his probing glare trying to ignore him, fighting the overwhelming exhaustion. She didn’t say anything simply because she didn’t wish him to believe her helpless or weak. Before they started on this journey, she determined she would never complain or ask anything from him. There was coin in her pockets. She would pay her way. Owing him anything was unconscionable.

One of his tawny eyebrows rose in question. “Nothing to say?”

Well, she had a lot to say. In this case biting her tongue was the most prudent choice. “Thank you for carrying my son. It seems I’ve been alone and doing that very thing for what at this moment seems a veritable lifetime. The inn will be much nicer than the forest floor.”

His laughter sent a shiver of anger through her. He corrected her. “All prim and proper are we now? Remember. My son. My heir.” He settled Ian on his shoulder before kicking his black stallion into a canter.

She watched his back, the smooth play of his muscles as he so easily rode away from her. He carried the babe with little effort. He wouldn’t slow his pace. She understood. Still…

Still what? She urged her horse to a gallop until she caught up to him.

“Thought for a moment you weren’t coming. Perhaps second thoughts,” he told her, his voice bland.

Third thoughts too.

She gritted her teeth to keep the reply on the tip of her tongue from bounding forth. Instead of words that would do neither any good, she smiled. It wasn’t a sweet smile, probably bordered on mocking. Try as she might she just couldn’t conjure anything pleasant.

Less than an hour later, they rode into the yard of an inn. Rustic Inn was the sign above the door. Dear God in heaven, she prayed it wasn’t too rustic. All she wanted now was a bath as well as food for herself along with the privacy to nurse Ian. After that she wanted a nice warm bed. What she’d been through this day, she didn’t think that was too much to ask for. She would pay for it if it was the only way to get what she needed.

Walker helped her down, held on to her waist for a few seconds while she struggled to get her legs back in working order. They had not been on the horses for more than a few hours. God in heaven what was she going to do tomorrow when he was sure he intended to ride all day? Walking with a slight limp while rubbing her thighs, she followed him inside.

He registered for a room before she had a chance to tell him she would stay in her own as well as pay for the separate lodging. When she moved toward the desk to do just that, he took her by the arm propelling her toward the stairs. For a second, she tugged on her arm. When he didn’t release her, she let him have his way. He would anyway. She was too tired to argue over a room.

While he opened the door, she kept quiet choosing to keep her complaint private. When he handed her Ian, she smiled at him. “Where are you going to sleep?” Perhaps she shouldn’t have said that. Maybe she should have waited a little longer to let him know her intentions.

His grin broadened to show his even white teeth behind the lips she so longed to touch, to kiss. “With you.”

“We can’t possibly share a bed, we’re not…”

“Lovers?” he quirked, a tawny eyebrow lifting upward. “You’re holding the proof that we are.”

“No. One time does not make us lovers.” Unable to look at him, she turned her back, doing the only thing she could think of to keep her emotions from escalating.

“We made a baby together, Crissie. We can obviously share a bed. Unless you forgot.”

She didn’t dare say what was on her mind as the door opened. She gasped in a sharp breath, knowing everyone would think they were married. Better than believing she was his whore.

The innkeeper along with his staff arrived with a cradle as well as a tub. Buckets of steaming hot water were carried in behind the man who smiled at her knowingly. Crissie couldn’t help herself. She grimaced. Then she let out a long slow breath of air, feeling the momentary anger at this intolerable situation fade. She would make the best of this. Just the thought of all that hot water started to relieve her sore muscles. If she wasn’t already halfway to hell, this was almost heaven. For the time being she decided she would ignore the sleeping situation. She could deal with it later.

Walker spoke to the man for a few minutes before he set Ian in his cradle. He turned to address her; his words tenderly spoken. “I believe the water is for you. If you don’t take too long, we can use the same water.” He busied himself with the fire, setting a few logs on it watching as they flamed to life.

She let out a long slow breath of air before straightening her shoulders. Understanding she needed to make her wishes clear, she said, “I suppose it’s too much to ask for you to leave.”

“Suppose it is. We’ve seen each other. I’ve kissed most every part of you, although there are a few places… Best you hurry. I’ve a feeling Junior is not going to have a lot of patience if his mama doesn’t feed him right away.”

He sounded so agreeable, so sincere, so very condescending and presumptive. Crissie struggled with the need to argue, to vent her feelings. She understood he wouldn’t bend in this. She comprehended he wanted her with no commitments attached. She couldn’t do that, not to her son, not to herself.

Walker would do just as he pleased. He sat down stretching his long legs out in front of him after he poured himself a glass of brandy, something else he must have ordered before they found their room. His lashes lowered, fanning out across his cheeks.

“Water’s getting cold.”

Quickly, her back to him, she disrobed, her breasts so full and now unconfined they hurt with every small movement. It was time for Ian’s feeding. Walker was right, she needed to hurry with her bath. There was little to no time to soak and enjoy the marvelous heat. The water was everything she dreamed of. With a soft sigh she settled into the heat, allowing the warmth to soothe the soreness accrued today from the hours in the saddle. She permitted herself a few minutes with her eyes closed.

The tender touch to her cheek surprised her. Her lashes flew open. She stared into the honeyed eyes of the man she loved with all her heart. Months ago, she wished her feelings away. Thought for a few fleeting weeks she succeeded. Now that he appeared so suddenly into her life, she knew that love for him would never leave her.

I need to learn to deal with it, ignore the ache in my heart.

“Dinna touch me. You’ve no right,” she whispered softly.

Even to herself she heard no conviction in the words. How could there be when she wanted more than anything to feel the tender strokes of his large hands on her flesh. He’d kissed her so many times, lovingly caressed and held her. No matter her intentions or his, she could not let him have his way. Despite her past actions, sex before marriage was not appropriate.

“You cannot mean that, lass.” His soft, wet lips followed the path of his long, slender fingers while his words whispered across her cheek. “What difference can it make now? We both want each other in the most elemental ways.”

She jerked away, her body melting into the heat he offered as well as the flames he so easily fanned inside her. She could not let him do this to her. She needed to be strong for the sake of her son. Could not fall into his arms again. It was sensations just like these that had her racing after him that day so long ago. The day that changed her life forever. She couldn’t allow him to coax her from her decisions, from her principles. While in so many ways she didn’t regret lying with him, it had been a bad decision. If for no other reasons, her son would be brought up a bastard.

“Aye, I do. As you said I need to hurry. Ian will be screaming soon. Already he’s making those tiny demanding noises that tell me he’s ready to have his dinner. See, he’s kicked free of his blanket. His chubby little arms and legs are waving in protest.”

She brushed his hand away then washed the rest of her. Tonight, she didn’t have the luxury of washing her hair. It needed time to dry. They would leave early in the morning.

To her amazement, Walker backed away, resuming his seat near the fire, sipping the drink he poured earlier seeming to brood. She let out a long slow breath, understanding this was just the beginning. He would not give up. Wasn’t a man to forego his pleasures. Staying strong where his tender coaxing was concerned would be difficult. God willing, she didn’t intend to stray.

Not now.

Not ever.

She finished with the soap. When she was rinsed, he stood by the tub, a huge bath sheet extended for her use. As she stepped from the water, he wrapped it around her. While he watched his smile broadened.

“I will give you time to get used to me,” he murmured as he began to strip his clothing from his tall, powerful frame. “Soon you will want me as much as I want you.”

Time to get used to him. What did that mean?

For a few seconds she observed, fascinated by the play of muscles across his naked chest, the tawny hair curling provocatively there. She remembered the feeling of it pressed against her breasts. Remembered how she twined it through her fingers. Remembered his scent, a bit spicy and male. She swallowed hard, closing her eyes before turning abruptly away from the sight of him.

From her bag she pulled out a long white nightgown, one that buttoned to the neck. She picked Ian up from the cradle, cuddling him to her before she unfastened the nightdress far enough for him to suckle.

Just as she assumed, Walker viewed her. She kept her gaze on him wary of his every move. He seemed oblivious to her blatant perusal. Humming a tune, he washed then rose, the water sluicing down his long firm legs across his well-shaped buttocks. When they made love that day, she never really saw all of him. She touched and stroked him, held him in her arms but…

He was a perfect specimen of a man.

Walker pulled on the doeskin pants he wore that day. When the knock on the door came, he opened it making sure he took the tray from the servant before the person could see inside the room. The scent of the fresh baked bread and hearty meat stew sent her stomach into a tailspin.

“Are you hungry?” he asked smiling broadly, his eyes glistening. As he watched her nurse, he poured a goblet of wine for her, brought it to her. “This will help you relax.”

“Famished,” she murmured as she drank down a large portion. She did need to relax. Somehow, she knew that while he was part of this room and there was only one bed, relaxing was most likely not in her future.

“Did I ride you too hard today, Crissie? I was eager to get you away.” He sat down beside her a bowl of stew for her in hand. She couldn’t eat the stew until Ian was finished. The huge slice of bread he handed her that was smothered in butter and honey was perfect. She bit into it, closing her eyes, delighted with the warm yeasty taste.

“If you are asking me if I’m sore, I am.” She bit off another large chunk of the bread, chewing contentedly as he dished up a plate for himself. “Not used to spending so long in the saddle.”

“Yes, I am sorry for your pain. You have to tell me how you’re feeling.”

He picked up Ian, holding him to his shoulder as he rubbed the child’s back. The large burp made him laugh. “He likes his meal. Can’t say I wouldn’t like some of what he’s getting also.”

“You won’t. Get what he’s getting.” With an exasperated sigh, she set the spoon down that had been halfway to her mouth. “What do want from me, Walker? I won’t be your whore or your mistress. I’ve heard no words about marriage or love. All I’ve heard is the demand that you would take Ian from me. I could come or go as I pleased. What the hell do you want from me?”

His brows drew together, his voice suddenly harsh. “I cannot wed you or anyone else. You best come to understand that. My son will grow up feeling his father’s love. His mother’s also if she chooses to stay with him.”

She gasped at his words, swore softly beneath her breath. “Can’t or won’t?”

~ * ~

Connal found it incredibly difficult to keep from looking at Wynnie and seeing the disapproval so blatant in her eyes. Walker presented no choices when he came to talk to him. There was nothing he could do to keep Walker from taking Ian. Hell, he could have insisted Crissie stay here. Walker certainly didn’t look as if he wanted the mother to come with him.

“Tell me what happened this afternoon.” Roby sat down on the opposite side of Connal, a glass of ale in hand. He didn’t appear at all pleased with the situation. “You say Walker took off with Ian and Crissie? I can go after them. Bring my sister as well as the babe home. They don’t belong with that Sassenach bastard.”

“Aye, that he did. No, you cannot interfere in their private relationship.”

Connal didn’t’ want another argument. He had spent most of the afternoon defending his inaction to his wife. Didn’t need to have the same conversation with his youngest son. Brady would come along and a repeat of today’s events would have to be hashed out.

“I could bring Crissie and the babe back. Take Kit with me,” Roby offered once again, grinning as if he already understood what was happening. “Never did like that particular Sassenach.”

“You liked him well enough until you learned he was the father of Crissie’s child, until you understood how he took advantage of her,” Wynnie said in a soft voice seeming to need to tell her youngest son to go after the couple and bring her child and grandchild home.

Roby’s unfettered hand was fisted, the knuckles on his ale glass white. “He did take advantage even though Crissie said she was willing. She was innocent, naïve in the ways of men and women. She would have had no idea of the consequences of the quick dalliance. Walker did.”

“Well, they are gone. He did explain to me why he couldn’t wed her. The entire story is unsettling at best. Maybe in time, things will change in Crissie’s favor.”

“Why is that?” Roby asked, his voice harsh.

“He is already wed to another,” Wynnie spoke before Connal could say the damning words. “Damn his everlasting soul to hell!”

“And you want me to believe that Englishman didn’t take advantage of my sister?”

“Not me,” Connal said softly, hands in the air as he slanted his wife, a look that only the pair understood. “Crissie wants us to believe in her.”

“That tale is hard to swallow at best. The Sassenach should be hung by his balls,” Roby said watching the door as if he hoped Crissie and Ian would be walking inside as they spoke.

“Aye, it’s hard to accept,” Connal agreed. “In this case, Crissie made the only decision she could. Walker was hell bent on taking both of them away from here. Says we are all in danger, but he didn’t explain why or how. Said to be very careful. I got an ominous feeling from his words.”

“So, what is it he plans to do with her when they reach his home? Keep her as his mistress or his whore? Set her up in a home nearby when he can visit at leisure? Use her when it pleases him?” Roby asked, his anger blazing. “What is he planning on doing with the child? He still needs his mother. The bastard wouldn’t dare hire a wet nurse with Crissie in such jeopardy.”

Wynnie reached out touching her hands on both her husband’s and her son’s hands. “I believe that will be up to Crissie. I’m sure she is aware of his wishes by now. He’s an honorable man. He will abide by what Crissie wants. I’m sure he won’t take advantage of her again. Unless she’s willing.”

Roby let out an astounded chortle. “Honorable? You are far too naïve, mother. He will try to seduce her. Will do so until she gives in to his wishes. The way she feels about the man, he will achieve his desires with few difficulties.”

“You’ve never bedded a woman?” Wynnie asked directing her attention to her son. “You’ve never coaxed and sweet-talked until you got your way?”

Connal watched his youngest son squirm. “I’ve never gotten one with child, never an innocent maid. Don’t intend to do so anytime soon.”

“That’s good to hear,” Connal said reflecting on his past as well as his actions until he met his wife, his mate.

He did protest, did ask to speak with Crissie before they left. Walker refused. Connal supposed he could have argued and won that particular battle. Walker had been right, however, in his conviction that what transpired was between the two of them and he didn’t want interference to complicate things.

Walker didn’t speak of love. Connal had a strong suspicion the Englishman did love Crissie. Wed to another. It was hard to believe. Walker told him it was a betrothal made by fathers when the children were born. Walker had been married nearing ten years now. He said he was nineteen at the time. Had never consummated the marriage to his wife.

No, Walker’s marriage was not one of love but of duty. It was easy for Connal to read the truth in Walker’s eyes. Easy to see how much he regretted that marriage. He suspected they lived in separate bedrooms. Connal could well understand Walker’s need for a warm willing woman in his bed.

He just wished it wasn’t Crissie filling that position. For he had no doubts that she would end up in the earl’s bed again.