The Chief (Highland Guard #1)(27)

He had. They both had.

Tor felt as if he’d just plunged into an icy loch. The haze of drink and lust were gone in an instant. What the hell was going on? The chit was a damned virgin!

He strode to the window and tore open the shutter. The wood banged against the stone with a slam that reverberated throughout the room.

Moonlight flooded the room with a shadowy light. He looked into the tear-filled gaze of the woman on the bed and felt the blood drain from his body.

The effects of the whisky had not completely dissipated, and it took him a moment to clear his head enough to make sure he wasn’t imagining her. But nay, it was true. The woman he’d just divested of her maidenhead was Fraser’s beautiful, dark-haired daughter.

She’d sat up and had her arms wrapped around her legs as if she were trying to curl into a ball and disappear. Her long sable hair fell in a silky veil around her shoulders, mussed from his ravishment. She looked young, innocent, and very scared, gazing up at him with wide eyes and tears streaming down her soft cheeks.

When he thought of what he’d done to her—how he’d kissed her, how he’d touched her, how he’d taken her virginity from behind—his stomach twisted; he felt ill.

He took a step toward her and stopped. He didn’t owe her comfort; if anything, it was she who owed him an explanation. “What are you doing here?” he demanded “Why are you in my bed?”

Her face paled, her dark eyes shimmering with panic. “I …”

All of a sudden the door swung open and Andrew Fraser stepped into the room, the burst of candlelight casting away the shadows, leaving nowhere for the truth to hide. A serving girl and a man stood behind him.

The older man took one look at his thoroughly ravished-looking daughter on the bed and at Tor, whose naked state left little to the imagination. Not all the blood had drained from his body, and his arousal was still prominently clear—as was the dark red smear running down its length. If that wasn’t proof enough, the spots of blood on the coverlet were incontrovertible. He’d taken her maidenhead.

But the gleam of satisfaction in Fraser’s eye made Tor’s blood run cold.

The truth hit hard. He’d been tricked.

His gaze snapped back to the lass, not wanting to believe she’d played a part in such treachery.

She startled from the intensity of his gaze, then looked away. But he’d seen it: guilt.

* * *

Christina was numb. Past shock. Past horror. All she felt was lost. Like she was running through the dark maze of a horrible dream and couldn’t find a way out.

But it wasn’t a dream; the throbbing pain between her legs proved that it was very real.

How could this have happened? One minute she’d been consumed by passion, ablaze in the most wondrous sensations, connected to him in a way she’d never imagined, and then it had all gone so wrong. He’d entered her so fast, she didn’t realize what he’d intended until too late. She didn’t know a man and a woman could make love—her cheeks heated—that way.

And then her father had entered the room and everything became so much worse. The maidservant he’d brought to witness her shame quickly averted her eyes. But the guardsman stood stoically behind him, watching the whole thing.

“What have you done to my daughter?” her father demanded, sounding aggrieved.

She ventured a look at the MacLeod chief, his expression as fierce as she’d ever seen it. He glared at her father with cold fury in his eyes. “Exactly what any man would do when a whore is sent to his bed.”

Christina gasped at the crude barb. Shock squeezed her chest. How could he say such a thing? A few moments ago he was touching her as if he couldn’t get enough of her, as if he desired her more than anyone else in the world. As if she were special. Her body was still tingling from where his hands had caressed her br**sts, where his fingers had pinched her ni**les, and where his mouth and jaw had marked her neck.

The guardsman’s hand went to the sword at his waist, but her father waved him back.

“How dare you!” her father said, not needing to feign outrage this time. “My daughter was an innocent maid. You wear the proof of her virginity on you right now.”

Christina had carefully avoided looking at his nakedness, but her eyes dropped of their own accord—and then widened. Jesu! No wonder it hurt so badly. Cheeks burning, she quickly averted her gaze. But not before the image of his incredible body was burned in her mind. The maidservant, however, eyed him boldly, shooting Christina a look of womanly appreciation that she didn’t fully understand.

“I only took what was given to me,” the MacLeod chief said coolly, an unmistakable edge to his voice.

He thought she’d wanted this. That she’d meant to seduce him. But she’d only meant to lie next to him. He wasn’t supposed to wake up.

“And now you will pay the price,” her father said matter-of-factly.

So matter-of-factly that comprehension finally dawned on her. How could she not have seen it before? The betrayal smacked her in the chest with nearly as much force as if he’d struck her.

He’d meant for this to happen. He hadn’t been delayed. Her father had never intended to come find her after a few minutes; he’d hoped she would be discovered and ruined. MacLeod could never refuse to marry her now. No matter how it had been accomplished, it was the only honorable thing to do.