Highlander Untamed by Monica Mccarty Page B

erection.
    His little bundle sighed and wiggled mercilessly against him. His body clenched with agony as he thought how easy it would be to grab her hips and ease himself in from behind. He squeezed her a little harder, lifting her breasts together in his palms. The urge for relief roared through him.
    Hell.
    He quickly unfolded himself from her silken web before he did something he would regret.

 
    Chapter 6

    Lips pursed with frustration, Isabel stormed around the spacious bedchamber.
    Moving to his chamber in the Fairy Tower was supposed to have solved her problems. But what was the use of sharing his room if he was hardly ever there? He spent just as little time with her as he had before. She’d begun to suspect that he’d moved her only to keep an eye on her.
    Over a week in his bed and a month at Dunvegan, and she was no closer to her goal than when she’d first arrived. The MacLeod’s secrets were well hidden. Since her move, she’d conducted a few basic searches of the chamber for the Fairy Flag but didn’t dare attempt more. The MacLeod was suspicious of her enough already.
    But the failure to advance her plan was not the only cause of her frustration. Her nervous excitement at the prospect of what might happen once her things were moved to his chamber had been completely unwarranted. It seemed he had no intention of bedding her.
    For the first few nights she’d tried to wait up, but sleep appeared before he did. When he did come in, it was in the dead of the night, and by time she woke, he was gone. Until last night, she hadn’t even been certain he slept there. But this morning, she’d woken with a start. Chilled. And with a strange sense of emptiness, as if she missed the comforting shield of his presence. Somehow she’d known he slept beside her. The large indentation in the feather bed next to her confirmed it.
    Isabel didn’t know whether to be angry or disappointed by his lack of attention. Probably a little of both. The worst part was that she had nothing to truly be angry for. He treated her with perfect civility. Given the history of their clans and her relationship to Sleat, it could have been much worse. Then why was she so disappointed? Because he’d not taken one look at her and fallen to his knees in besotted supplication as her uncle hoped? After meeting him, she had to laugh at the image, it was so ridiculous. Though the failure to advance her plan should be the reason, it was not.
    What truly frustrated her was her own lack of indifference. The more she had learned of him and observed him, the more she had come to realize that Rory MacLeod was unlike anyone she’d ever met. She was attracted to him, she admired him, and it pained her to realize she’d made no impression on him at all.
    Not only did he avoid her at night, he avoided her the rest of the time as well. If she did happen to see him during the day, after a few polite inquiries, he removed himself.
    Being left on her own most of the day wasn’t aiding her in her quest at all. What had become painfully clear was that she could not succeed on her own. She needed him to confide in her. Earning his trust, to allay that suspicion, was what she must concentrate on. But how could she when he seemed determined to keep distance between them?
    Indeed, Isabel felt less like a wife and more like a temporary guest. If she was to have any hope of success, she would need to change that. She must take the reins of the household by securing the keys that he’d neglected to give her after their handfast. She sat on the edge of the bed to think, twirling a long strand of silky hair through her fingers. She had to insert herself in his life whether he liked it or not.
    She looked around at the stark masculine chamber.
    What better place to start than with his room?
    She would ask Rory for leave to add some womanly touches to his room, and then perhaps she would bring up the matter of the chatelaine’s keys.
    Isabel stood up with a new sense