She recalled the explosive joy of what they'd done. The unbelievable pleasure. How could he possibly not remember it? Certainly it had been ill advised and reckless, but she had been unable to resist. 'Haps she was an immoral wanton, but it had been one of the best experiences of her life. For him not to feel the same humiliated her. She knew his honor was at stake, but to her, what they shared was far greater than honor. She wanted him to be the center of her life.

I love him.Oh, saints! She did; she loved him. She couldn't have given herself to him so completely otherwise. Their lovemaking had nothing to do with duty and everything to do with the emotions growing between them.

"I don't understand," he said, frowning as if greatly troubled. "You were not a virgin, yet there's a blood stain on the sheets." He pointed to the middle of the bed. "Did I hurt you? Tell me I didn't force you."

"You didn't. I wanted to do it."

"Why is there a blood stain?"

"The truth is… I was a virgin."

Chapter Seventeen

A virgin?

What the devil? Standing beside the bed, Dirk stared down at Isobel, wearing only a sheet and still lying temptingly in his bed. He struggled to wrap his mind around this bit of information that didn't fit with anything else.

"You said you were married! A widow! Is that a lie?"

"Stop yelling! I did not lie." Her glare remained on him but her voice softened. "My husband was unable to perform in the bedchamber. He was ill most of the time I knew him."

Dirk frowned. With so many conflicting emotions spiraling inside him, he was unsure what he truly felt. "Your husband never bedded you?"

She shook her head. "Everyone thought he did. He begged me not to tell anyone because he was ashamed. The clan would view him as weak. So, everyone thought I was barren."

Though it might be wicked of him, some part of him was glad the old earl had been unable to perform his husbandly duty. Dirk's primal side was overjoyed to have been her first. But his rational side knew this meant trouble. An honorable man didn't deflower a virgin and walk away.

How had an innocent seduced him? Or had he seduced an innocent? How the hell could he lose control like that and bed a woman he'd never intended to bed? Certainly, he'd wanted to, but he was confident he could resist. Was he mad? Nay, the medicinal herbs, he suddenly remembered. Had Isobel drugged him with the help of the healer?

"But how did this happen?" He pointed between himself, her and the bed.

She lay on her side, looking beyond seductive, whether she meant to or not, wearing only the sheet and a plaid blanket. Her dark gaze moved over his chest. "I thought you were experienced."

He let out an exasperated breath. "I am. But how precisely did we end up in bed together? I remember I was very cold and you lay on top of me to warm me." How heavenly that had been.

"Aye. You were near frozen solid from where you fell into the water in the cave, then the long trek here in the cold wind."

"I appreciated your help. I remember the pain in my head… then the healer gave me an herbal tea to drink. What was in it?"

"She said it was something for pain. I'm not a healer and know only a little about herbs."

He could detect no deceit in her eyes. Maybe she was being honest and had no part in trying to drug him. "How did that lead to this?" He motioned at the bed.

"Well… I kissed your forehead and you grabbed me."

"I did? Saints," he muttered, his face heating. He'd never been one to get aggressive with women, unless they wanted it.

"You started kissing me and… heavens… it got hot in here. And then you rubbed your mouth over my breasts, and suckled at them. It felt amazing, and—"

"Enough!" Damnation, he already ached for her. He didn't need more fuel on the fire. She aroused him like no other woman ever had, and now the wall he'd built around his desire had been smashed.

"I thought you wished me to explain it to you," Isobel said.

"There is no need for such great detail. It… brings it all back, what little I can remember. And you could be…" An odd mixture of fear and hope stole his words. What was he thinking? He feared naught. But it was all so overwhelming and sudden.

"What?" she asked.

He released a pent-up breath. "You could be with child. Damnation. Are you mad, woman?"

"'Twas not my fault. You seduced me with your irresistible kisses."

Kisses. Aye, he loved kissing her and wanted to now. He forced himself to turn his back and pace away from her.

"Most chiefs want offspring, you know," she said. "Will you not need an heir when you're chief?"

He turned on his heel. "You are betrothed to another chief!" If she carried Dirk's bairn, the only way for that child—if it was male—to be his heir was if he married her.

She shrugged. "It matters not."

"It should. This could spur a clan war." Hell, he couldn't become chief one day and then lead his own clansmen into battle the next, all because he couldn't control his lusts with the virgin fiancée of his neighbor. 'Twas beyond irresponsible. He'd never been irresponsible before.

She frowned. "Do you think the MacLeods would attack your clan over it? Or mine?"

"They might. Your brother will likely have to work out an agreement with them and give them a gift."

"If he'd give them the land, they'd likely be appeased. 'Twas all they wanted anyway."

He nodded. "If they find out you're here, they may attack anyway, agreement or no. Feuds have been started over far less."

Long-faced, she stared at the floor. "I should leave, go back to my own clan."

A feeling of dread hit him in the pit of his stomach. He feared he could never let her go. His possessiveness was fired up and he couldn't imagine living his life without her. "Nay. I can't take you back there now. 'Tis winter. The wind blows too fiercely to travel by water. And to travel through MacLeod territory with you would be suicide without an army to ward off their certain attack."

"I suppose I'll have to stay until spring. By then, we'll know whether or not I'm with child."

He ground his teeth, imagining her lush body swollen with his child. Although he found the image beyond appealing, he'd never thought about having children before. His life had always been too disrupted. For the last ten years he'd done little but travel with his friends. But now, all that was behind him. He might be voted in as chief today. That meant settling down, leading his people and marrying. He hadn't planned to look for a wife right away. Perhaps in a year or two, after he'd accustomed himself to being chief.

But if Isobel carried his child, he would have to marry her. Not that the prospect was hellish in the least. Marrying her could quite possibly be paradise. But what of her betrothed? The last thing he wanted was a feud with the MacLeods.

She'd been a virgin. He shook his head. Had he been rough with her? He barely remembered taking her. 'Twas more like a feverish dream, vague, but the memory was there. He remembered the pleasure. Twice was more than enough to get her with child.

"I'll have to marry you. I won't have any other choice," he said.

She frowned. "You have a choice. If you don't want to marry me, then don't." She rolled over, turning her back to him. "If you would be so kind as to leave the room, I'll dress and get out of your way."