REVIEW FROM COFFEE TIME ROMANCE

 "I have to admit that Starla Kaye has told a wonderful story with, If You Loved Me. From the beginning, Caitlin and Mac have a certain chemistry that draws the reader in. I was able to share in their sorrow and joy. I love the part about the sore jaw and the eggs. A soothing, sensual, heat simmers between Caitlin and Mac making this an interesting read. Caitlin's brother is a miserable excuse for a man, but adds depth to the plot. I love the way the feelings of Caitlin and Mac want to explode in the open, but they keep them hid very well. This spanking good read kept this reader thoroughly captivated." Cherokee 4 cups-Outstanding Great Read

EXCERPT

Caitlin moved slowly closer to the tall, powerfully-built man with shoulder-length mahogany hair soon to become her husband. From the instant he’d spotted her in the doorway, she had sensed his bitterness. Oh, she had seen a brief flash of male lust. Since her body had matured toward womanhood this last year, she had witnessed such a look on other men’s faces many times. That look had typically repulsed her, as well as the way the men had acted so sickeningly complimentary. But with Mac MacDonell’s annoyed look of appreciation in his mossy green eyes, she had felt a momentary flutter of pleasure. Then his handsomely carved face tightened and his entire body stiffened. If she'd held even a slight hope that this arranged marriage would one day work out, it vanished with his disapproving glower. Not that she was happy about the situation, either, thank you very much.

She released her father's arm and stepped, chin raised high, beside her solemn bridegroom. She would never let him know that even for an instant she’d experienced her first real stirrings of physical yearning for a man. It was clear he didn’t want her. She was determined to feel the same way. And she despised her father and Mac’s father even more for making them do this.

Interrupting her thoughts, Mac bent down enough that he could loudly whisper, “'Tis naught right what we do today, lass. Ye know it as well as I do.”

Her stomach quivered at the deep, husky Scottish burr. She fought back the urge to rub at the nerves tingling now in her abdomen. “Nevertheless it will happen. Neither of us have a choice in this matter.” She met his gaze, not the least bit intimidated by his scowl. Still, she understood his aggravation, his helplessness. They were both being used by their families. “For now, we'll have to make the best of the situation. But one day we will end this difficult situation. I promise you that.”

He looked surprised by her statement, and then gave a curt nod. “I'll be holding ye to your word, Lass.”

******

Mac had watched Caitlin climb the stairs before him. She was a tiny lass compared to such a massive man as he. Young, too. While only ten years separated them, when it came to knowing the intimate ways between a man and a woman, he felt that decades separated them. He shouldn’t be planning on taking her to his bed, taking her innocence. That rightfully belonged to a man who would truly love her as she deserved. He did not, could not love her. Everything he’d believed in and cherished had changed this day.

Even through the layers of gown she wore, Mac enjoyed the feminine sway of her small hips. He could easily span her waist with his hands. Aye, she was tiny. Well, except for her breasts. She’d been blessed with breasts that drew a man’s attention, certainly his. His body hardened just at the thought of covering her bare breasts with his hands, of tasting them with his mouth. When he started envisioning trailing kisses down her slender body toward her womanhood, he groaned, aching.

She hesitated at the top of the stairway and glanced back at him, innocent confusion on her lovely face. “Are you all right?”

Considering that he wanted to jump her right here on the stone stairway and sink deep into her body, no he was not all right. He bordered on the edge of insanity. Somehow he managed to force down his elemental urges and nod. “Stubbed my toe is all.  Wasna paying attention to walking, I guess.”

She gifted him with a tiny smile, and then turned to continue on to his room. He followed with more eagerness than he had a right to feel. He shouldn’t do this. He had to do this.

* * *

Caitlin lie in the middle of Mac’s enormous bed, completely naked, the heat of embarrassment over every inch of her exposed body. She’d tried to convince him to just shove her dress up out of the way and do what he needed to do. He had rolled his eyes and insisted she undress. Actually, he had removed her under-waist to bare her breasts, and then he’d removed her drawers. After that he had stood there silently staring at her for several long seconds and she’d seen how his breathing had changed. She had watched his eyes darken, seen the front of his kilt lift up as his body had responded in arousal. That’s when she’d shied away and dashed to the bed to fling herself upon it.

She had reacted like a child. Now she felt annoyed by that fact and she fought down the need to yank a quilt over her. Instead she barely breathed and watched Mac prepare to join her in bed. She had no doubt that he knew she was watching him, and that he didn’t seem to care. He had already removed the length of plaid attached by a broache to the shoulder of a waist-length jacket, and the jacket itself. He stopped to calmly hold her gaze. Then he undid the ruffled collar of a white shirt and pulled the shirt off over his head.

Oh my heavens!

She sucked in a breath, awed. Once she’d seen Theopolis without his shirt. His pale chest had been thin, bare of any hair. Unimpressive. Mac’s chest, well… Quite impressive indeed. He had muscles like those she’d seen on statues in her art books; muscles that she had believed to be only an artist’s improvement on reality. Not so. Mac’s chest muscles proved that indeed a man could be so endowed. And the sprinkling of dark hair that trailed down his abdomen to somewhere below the waistband of his kilt intrigued her. As did the way the kilt stuck out in one certain place. Her heart raced in anticipation.

He bent over to remove his shoes and knee-high plaid leggings that encased well-toned calves. Muscles bunched and played on his back as well. She felt a foolish desire to touch him. Everywhere. Then he straightened, caught her staring and gave a cocky grin.

“Curious, are ye, Lass?”

“Of course not!” she countered, forcing her gaze away for an instant.

“’Tis a lie that I can see in yer eyes.” His hand moved to the sword belt minus sword and it fell to the floor. “I willna tolerate lying, Wife. ‘Tis best ye know that now.”

Her father had not tolerated it either. A sound session with the strop had only been necessary a time or two for stretching the truth further than allowed. It annoyed her to think about such unpleasantness now and she snapped, “I do not lie, Husband.”

His expression appeared doubtful, but he didn’t press the subject. Instead he added the belted sporran and the kilt to the pile of clothing at his feet.

Oh my! So they didn’t wear anything under a kilt as she’d heard but hadn’t believed. Oh my, oh my, oh my! She should be shocked. She should be closing her eyes and turning away as she believed a proper woman would do when seeing a naked man. Apparently she wasn’t a “proper” woman after all, because she wasn’t about to close her eyes or turn away. Maybe she was a little “shocked,” but really it was more like surprised, intrigued. She wanted to touch that part of him thrusting proudly high at attention. Cock, she believed she’d heard it referred to. She’d heard other names as well, but “cock” sounded best to her.

“Are you done admiring him, Lass?” Mac asked, sounding amused.

“Him?” She rather liked the way his cock seemed to grow while she stared at it.

He reached down and closed a hand around the long, thick shaft. “This proud warrior.”

She giggled, actually giggled, which made him frown. “In truth, I was merely curious.”

He strolled toward the bed, the fully aroused cock holding her attention. Could that possibly fit inside her? She couldn’t imagine it doing so. Oh, she was so going to disappoint him!

His young wife looked nervous, not frightened as Mac had figured she would be, being an innocent. But along with her obvious concern with what was about to happen to her, he noted definite interest. At least in his body. She wanted him, even if she didn’t know that she did. Her body was still only in the early stages of womanhood, but he found it more than pleasing. And he’d been pleased that she hadn’t broken into hysterical tears when he’d undressed her. His new bride was a brave one with an inner strength that he admired. If circumstances were different… No! He refused to think along those lines. They were what they were. Now he must do what he needed to do.

Mac sat on the edge of the bed expecting her to scurry away. Again, she surprised him. Her golden-brown eyes widened and he could see the rapid pulsing of a vein in her slender neck. She lie stiffly, waiting, her breath coming in quick little breaths. He could smell her sweet woman’s scent now. She was aroused; he was painfully drawn to her. Rightness, wrongness…neither mattered at the moment.

He shifted closer and she tensed but didn’t move away. He had to touch her, had to feel the softness that he knew he would find. So he reached his calloused hand down to stroke his knuckles down the side of her neck. Soft, so soft. His heart pounded; his body hardened even more. Soon he would need to take her.

She blinked up at him. “I don’t… I don’t know what…”

“Do not worry, Lass.” He gently trailed his fingers slowly, lightly between her breasts. She drew in a deep, quivering breath yet remained still for his touch. “I willna hurt ye. Trust me.”

“I-I will try,” she gasped.

Humbled by her concerned admission, he cupped one of her breasts. Firm, a handful, tempting. He thumbed the rosy nipple until it pebbled.

Her breath quickened. “Oh. Oh my,” she sighed as he continued to play with first one breast and then the other. She arched up into his hands; her eyes glazed over.

Mac knew if he reached lower that he would find her moist and ready. But he desperately needed to pay sweet homage to the breasts first. Leaning over her, he ran the tip of his tongue around the aureole, and then took it in his mouth, sucking gently.

She moaned, arched even more, panted. Her fingers threaded into his hair and she sighed, “I’ve never… Oh it feels so…” She moaned again.

Her scent surrounded him, called to him. Hard to think. Nearly impossible to not dive between her legs and take what his body so intensely wanted. His need was powerful, more powerful than he could remember feeling ever before. It worried him. He didn’t want to feel this strongly about her, about this stranger who he’d been forced to wed. He didn’t want to feel anything at all for her.

He lathed one hard nipple again; disgusted that he couldn’t seem to stop. But even as he savored the taste of her, he forced himself to remember that they had only this one night. One night and that was all. His life was meant to go another way and be tied with another woman. A woman who understood the proud Scottish ways. Caitlin’s life was meant to go, well, he didn’t know how it was meant to go, but it was meant to go on without him. They had this one night, and were to be tied together distantly for almost another three years to complete the pact made between the families. After that they could legally cut their ties and go their separate paths forever.

“Mac…Oh, Mac…” Her slender body was writhing now in her own need.

He abandoned her breasts and moved to climb between her legs, feeling a twinge of regret for what he must do…for what his body demanded. As he settled in place for just a second, he felt the beads of moisture on her patch of hair. Ready. Well, almost ready.

She lie tensely, but she didn’t stop him from parting her legs even more as he levered up to look down at her. Her eyes were wide in wonder, in uncertainty. “Do not fret, Lass.”

She nodded.

Holding her gaze with his own, he reached down to cup her mound. She tensed even more, and then he eased a finger between her swollen lips. It took no more than a couple of minutes for him to drive her to the point of quivering, to the point of begging him to do something—anything—to bring her relief. More than ready himself, he thrust hard enough to turn her forever from child to woman.

She cried out, but only for a second. Then she seemed to melt around him and he could no longer remain still. He drove home over and over until he forced her first woman’s release. He drove deeply until he followed with his own release and filled her with his seed.

* * *

The next morning as Mac watched Caitlin step away from him and into the coach with her father, he remembered how his young wife had withstood his taking of her. She had bravely done her duty. She had given away her innocence to a man little more than a stranger. What she hadn’t done since he’d stopped suckling her precious breasts was smile. Oh she’d gasped and moaned for him. Her body had been lost in powerful needs. But she had not smiled again.

He hated himself for that. God help him, he’d forced away her smile.