The Chief (Highland Guard #1)(28)

Shame washed over her. And she’d been too much of a fool to realize what her father intended.

How could he do this to her? How could he deceive her like this?

Achieving his goal had blinded him to everything else.

“I do not pay for what is given for free,” the MacLeod chief replied.

Christina’s eyes flew to his face. Surely, he didn’t mean …? But he did. He didn’t want to marry her—even after taking her innocence. Even after what they’d shared.

His expression was hard and unyielding. He wouldn’t even look at her. He thinks I’m a part of this. She was, but she’d never intended it to go this far.

“Just what are you saying?” her father demanded, his face red with rage.

“I’m saying your daughter got exactly what she deserved when you sent her to my room.”

Christina couldn’t let him believe this of her. “But I never meant—”

“That’s enough,” her father interrupted. He turned on her with an angry glare. “You’ve done quite enough.” He motion to the maid and guardsman. “Escort her back to her room.” He spoke again to Christina, “I will speak with you tomorrow when this is settled.”

She looked to the MacLeod chief, searching for reassurance, but his face was as cold as ice, without a shred of compassion, the tic in his hard-set jaw the only indication of his anger. But she could feel it radiating from him, in every powerful muscle of that incredible godlike body. His nakedness didn’t seem to bother him at all. He stood as tall and proud as if he were a warrior in full armor. Invincible. With that build, it was easy to see why.

She climbed down off the bed, feeling as if she’d aged a hundred years in the last hour. She wobbled, catching sight of the telltale stain on the coverlet. She quickly shifted her gaze, her cheeks flooding with hot shame.

Ignoring her father, she turned to the MacLeod chief again. It somehow seemed vitally important that he know the truth. “Please,” she begged for understanding, “it’s not what you think. I didn’t know. This was a mistake.”

“Yes, it was,” he said curtly. Coldly. She knew he was angry—he had every right to be—but his remoteness stung. He’d touched her in the most intimate ways, possessed her with his body; she wanted to believe that it meant something.

Despite the ugliness of what her father had done, it had meant something to her. She stared at him, willing him to look in her direction, to give her a little comfort—no matter how insignificant—but he kept his gaze on her father, having forgotten all about her.

Insignificant. Her heart tugged hard in her chest. She was only a pawn in the games of men. One day she wanted to mean something to someone. But perhaps it was a foolish thing for a woman to want.

Christina bowed her head and followed the maidservant and guardsman out of the room, feeling her throat thicken with hot tears.

She didn’t know which was worse: that she was no longer a maid—ruined in the eyes of many—or that he didn’t care he was the one who made her so.

Tor watched her leave, refusing to allow himself to be swayed by her pitiful pleas. The treacherous chit had gotten exactly what she deserved.

He would not be forced into a marriage he didn’t want by trickery. If he did marry again, it would be for the good of the clan. It wouldn’t be to a woman who’d tricked him into taking her virginity.

Unbidden, the memories returned. Of holding her lush br**sts in his hands, of her bottom pressed against his cock. Of dragging his mouth along the honey velvet of her skin as the veil of her silky hair fell over him, of her soft little breaths of pleasure, of the way she’d trembled when he’d touched her slick core, of the explosive passion that had gripped him as he’d plunged inside her.

Cursing his body’s reaction, he grabbed his leine and tossed it over his head.

He’d never been like that before. Wild with desire. Damned near out of control with it. The drink must have addled his mind.

He forced the memories back. His unnaturally fierce reaction to her would not change his original decision. Allying himself with the great patriot family of Fraser would immediately call into question his neutrality, putting him at odds with both Edward and MacDougall.

Lust was about as ridiculous a reason to wed as love.

Fraser waited until his daughter and the others had gone before rounding on him. “Do not think you can avoid this. The story of what has happened here will be all over the castle by morning.”

“I see you’ve made sure of that,” Tor said, referring to the maid and guardsman Fraser had brought along to witness this farce. “But you erred if you think it makes a damned bit of difference to me.”

“You’ve ruined her,” Fraser said incredulously. “Of course, you are honor bound to marry her.” No matter what the circumstances, he left unsaid.

“Am I?” Tor smiled. “You assume I play by the same rules. You came to me with an offer that I refused—for good reason. I’ll not be forced into marriage by trickery. It’s not my honor in jeopardy, but yours and your daughter’s.”

Only the knowledge that Tor could kill him with his bare hands held Fraser’s anger in check. “No one forced you to do anything,” he said. “Are you claiming that my daughter seduced you? My innocent daughter?”

“She seemed eager enough to me.” Tor’s face betrayed no emotion, but Fraser’s words pricked him. He replayed the scene over in his mind, and as much as he wanted to, he knew he could make no such claim. The odd reactions he’d attributed to game-playing made horrible sense for an innocent maid—and he’d been too out of his mind with lust to notice. But she’d responded. He put up the wall in his mind before he could think about that. She’d made no effort to stop—not until it was too late. “I suspect you knew exactly what would happen when you sent her to my bed. That it did is your problem.”