Isla's Heart

Cold Light of Day

The morning came bright and warm, streaming into Conall's room and illuminating the woman that slept warm and soft in his embrace. Crimson hair caught fire in the sunbeams and he smiled at the wealth of such colors. Why had he ever found her ordinary? Laying there, within his arms, she appeared the most beautiful woman he'd ever set eyes on. Tiny freckles and all.

Placing soft kisses on her bared neck he thought of every way he'd taken her that night. He'd taken her too far too fast and feared she'd pay for it today. He should have stopped himself but he could not. Once he'd entered her he could not stop himself from taking her again and again. She'd not complained once and he could still hear her pleas for more in the contented depths of his mind.

Trailing a finger along the delicate length of her arm he sighed. He'd never expected to care so much for the little creature. Yet, here he was happier than he'd ever felt in his entire God forsaken life. She warmed his heart in places he'd not known still existed and it caused a surge of panic to rise in his chest. He knew he had to get back to the reality of their lives, but all he wanted was to stay like this forever. Alas, that could not be as below stairs the morning meal would be on its way to the hall and workers would begin their hectic day. Within all that routine would sit a cunning blond plotting his demise.

Damn them all! Damn them all to hell!

With a disgruntled sigh he tried to ease the softly breathing woman from his arms and slide from the bed. She stirred lightly but snuggled deeper into the plush blankets of their bed with a contented mumble. Their bed? He rather liked the sound of that.

Taking care not to make a sound he dressed hastily, took one last look at Isla's peaceful face and left the room with a sudden lightness to his step. Once this was over, she would be his and he could spend as much time with her as he pleased. He was the Laird, he was entitled the joy of his wife's soothing love.

Love?

No! It was not love. He'd become carried away with the afterglow of their love making. He merely lusted for her and enjoyed her company. She was sweet and soft, and he'd lived with a severe lack of either in his life. Whatever she felt for him he was sure it was not love. Her gazes were filled with soft emotion as he'd taken her that night but he refused to think of it as more than a need as strong as his own.

No. Definitely not love. He cared. She cared. That was enough.

The hall was alive with voices and roaming forms that greeted Conall upon arrival. Acknowledging the greetings his sharp eyes covertly sought out Caleb and his men. They sat huddled at the furthest table, heads bowed towards each other.

Ah, plotting already?

A chuckle escaped him. Since coming home he'd been working very hard to put The Dark Wolf to rest, but now he embraced the wolf inside him and planned to hunt and destroy all that plotted against the life he was building. This was his home and anyone who tried to take it from him would burn. He'd very gladly burn them all.

Searching out Gills, he came across Catriona. She preened before him, pushing forth her ample laced covered breasts with zeal and a false light in her flat gaze. She held no appeal for him now. She was a pale comparison to the fiery beauty that had occupied his night. He'd been blinded by the sparkly apparition before but now he saw her for what she was: An empty vessel of deceit and manipulation.

"I trust you found rest after I left you?", He wanted to choke on the warm words. 

"It would have been better with you there, milord. Your arms are very comforting."

Her saccharine voice set Conall's nerves on edge but he smiled through the discomfort, "Soon enough, milady. Soon enough." He took her hand and planted a soft skin upon the pale frigid skin. How could two sisters be so drastically different? One warm and giving, the other pale and cold?

Her contrived giggle left him just as cool.

"We will begin the plans soon won't we, dearest Conall?" She batted long dark lashes at him over her sapphire gaze.

"Right away, my beloved. I cannot go another night without you." He looked around with a false look of perplexity, "Where is that sister of yours? I'd hoped to..." He pretended to catch his words and then continued with a sheepish grin. "I'd hoped to plan a surprise gown for you and I know how swift she is with a thread.", Lady Catriona beamed, Conall enjoyed throwing her off Isla's scent. No one could know of her residence in his chamber, especially the minx before him.

"I'll find her at once, milord." Something cold flashed through her gaze. "I'm sure she'd be happy to assist."

"No. No. I'll send one of the maids to fetch her. Come. Sit with me, I wish to sit with ye.", He smiled down at her upturned face, "As it will be for years to come.", He knew he was laying it on thicker than Scottish porridge but he so enjoyed playing her.

"Aye, milord. I could want nothing more."