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Lost in the Highlands, Volume One

Page 11

by Lorraine Beaumont


  “Now what?”

  He looked quite pleased with the hand I dealt him.

  “You can bet again or call.”

  Again, he gave me a curious look.

  “Call?”

  “Yeah, you ask me to show you my cards.”

  “All right,” he said as his lips curved upward into one of his heart-stopping smiles again. “I’ll call ye.”

  “Two pairs, Ace high,” I said and laid down my cards. “What do you have?”

  “Ye tell me.” He shrugged his shoulders and laid down his cards.

  I couldn’t believe my eyes. He had four Kings and an Ace to boot. “You win,” I said grudgingly.

  “That was fun.”

  “Sure, it was, since you won,” I muttered as I gathered the cards.

  “Do I get my massage now?”

  “I guess,” I told him as I slid the cards back into the little souvenir wooden box with Grandfather Mountain Logo imprinted on the top.

  “Good.” He loosened his shirt from his kilt, flipped around on the bed, and pillowed his head on top of his arms.

  After I set the cards on the trunk, I gathered up my skirts and climbed across the bed to his side. “I should probably get on your back. It would be easier.”

  “Ye do what ye must,” he muttered into his elbow, already sounding half-asleep.

  “Alrighty then,” I muttered as that familiar flair of annoyance shot through me again. Lifting my skirts, I straddled his waist. Careful not to put my full weight down on him, I rubbed my hands together to warm them and then placed them on his muscled back. His shirt bunched under my hands as I squeezed.

  “Och, lass, that feels nice.”

  Pressing down, I massaged the knots from his shoulders and slid my hands over every hard plane, following the dip in the center of his back to the point where his bottom was curving upward. His shirt was loose and I slid my hands under the fabric as my fingers caressed his warmed skin. It felt like velvet, actually, better than velvet—he had the softest skin I had ever felt, much like a newborn. My fingers slid down farther to the point that the tips were touching the curve of his bottom again and kneaded there. He made a groaning sound and a delicious surge of heat shot between my legs. It was a definite turn on to touch him in such an intimate way. With each stroke, my fingers slid lower and his muscles tensed. Meticulously, I kept up my rigorous massage, and every groan he made gave me another delicious quiver of delight as I pressed down against him all the while wishing he would turn over so I could really press down.

  “Should I turn around so ye can massage the front of me as well?”

  “Sure, if you like,” I said trying to sound sexy.

  “Ye all right, lass?”

  “Yes,” I swallowed hard… “Why?” I tried for sexy again.

  “Ye sound like ye swallowed a frog.”

  Oh my …! “Just a scratch in my throat,” I lied baldly.

  “If ye say so…”

  He turned so quickly I was almost dislodged from the top of him. Grabbing my hips, he steadied me and adjusted his hips under me so his erection was situated directly between my thighs.

  Another burst of heat shot up between my legs. Once I saw his face, I wasn’t sure him turning over was such a good idea. It was hard not to stare at him, harder still not to lean forward and kiss those inviting irresistible lips of his.

  “Are ye comfortable, lass?”

  My eyes met his heavy-lidded gaze and I had all I could do to breathe let alone speak.

  I nodded instead.

  Gently squeezing my hips, he urged me to continue. At least that is what I thought he was trying to tell me. Who knew, but I was going for it.

  Leaning forward, I placed my hands on his taut stomach, and pressed my palms down on his six-pack. Each muscle cut perfectly in the flat of his stomach. Granted, I had seen him completely naked in the tub but this was altogether a new experience for me and I decided right then and there it was one of the most erotic things I had ever done with a man.

  The firelight danced across his face, shadowing his eyes in the darkness as my fingers climbed up each hill and dipped down into the cut valleys where each muscle was compartmentalized. My body responded, and each time I moved my hands, I dipped down against his erection to the point he was pressed right against me.

  His fingers kneaded my hips as mine became bolder, climbing up to his chiseled chest and retreating down to the point where his hipbones cut another valley into the warm velvet muscle I was exploring.

  Sliding my hands down lower, my fingers followed the slight line of hair that disappeared down underneath his kilt. He removed his hands from my hips as I dipped down against him once again and for a moment, I tensed, thinking he may want me to stop…then he reached up and filled his palms with my breasts and his thumbs slid over my nipples sending an electric surge straight through me. I gasped in pleasure at the same time he groaned.

  In an instant, he was sitting up, and I was flush against his erection. One hand went to my back, holding me as he buried his face in my cleavage.

  The rough scruff of his unshaved face rubbed against me sending another delicious shiver through my body. Before I could think a coherent thought, his tongue slipped in between my breast, making me arch against him more.

  Then his mouth traveled from one nipple and over to the other, then his lips climbed upward again to my neck. When his mouth found mine, I no longer cared what I was thinking. Nothing mattered except what he was doing to me, this very instant, that we were together.

  A low feral growl emitted from deep in his throat as he somehow managed to move me from his lap and onto my back. He came over me, leveraging on his elbows.

  “Get comfortable, lass,” he instructed.

  Feeling shy suddenly, I grabbed hold of one of the furs as I leaned back against the pillows.

  He sat back on his feet. “Nay, lass,” he said, his voice raspy with desire.

  Slowly he pulled the fur away.

  I backed up as far as I could go.

  Giving me a devilish grin, he lifted up my gown.

  Then he disappeared.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND

  Sometime during the reign of King James

  Twisting the sheets, my head butted up against the top of the bed. He was between my legs, his mouth, his tongue, touching me. Reflexively, I tried to close my legs, but he pressed his hands against my thighs, keeping my legs wide as his tongue flicked against me, repeatedly, bringing me so close to the edge I thought I might just tumble over.

  Suddenly he stopped and pulled back out from under my gown. His hair was mussed and he had a slight sheen of my desire on his mouth as he hovered above me. I forced myself not to grab hold of him and bury his face between my legs again.

  His lips turned up into a smug smile. “I see ye don’t find me so repulsive now, do ye?”

  “No.” I shook my head. Wait… who the hell said he was repulsive? Not me…or did I? For some reason I couldn’t remember, but he was anything but. I shook my head again. “Gavin…”

  “Laird,” he said.

  “Laird,” I repeated.

  A triumphant look crossed his face as he slid his hand slowly up my leg to the wetness between my thighs.

  I moaned and squirmed against his hand.

  “That is more like it.”

  My body was on fire, I felt like a bow too tightly strung that I would snap at any given moment.

  ♦

  Gavin wasn’t sure what to make of the lass in his bed. Her amber eyes glazed with passion and he knew she wanted him, but she would not tell him. And as much as he hated to admit it to himself, he wanted to hear her say she wanted him. He needed her to say it… with words, not just her body and how she responded to him. Even now, he could smell her sweet scent still lingering in his nostrils and her salty taste, still on his tongue.

  “Say it, lass…” he prodded.

  “What?” I played dumb, not wanting to tip
my hand. Whenever I told a man how I felt everything always went downhill from there.

  “Tell me, ye want me...” he coaxed.

  I was going to put up a fight, not wanting to make the same mistakes I had in the past but then, I just couldn’t. What would be the point? Self-deprivation was never my strong suit anyway. All my attempts at dieting had gone to the wayside too. “I do.”

  “Ye do…what?” His brow lifted.

  “For God’s sake!” I sighed. “Fine, I want you. Are you happy now?”

  “Aye, lass, more than ye will ever know,” he said with meaning.

  Dipping down, his mouth found hers again and in moments, he had positioned himself outside her wet welcoming warmth. Letting out a feral growl, he captured her mouth at the same time he thrust inside, filling her completely.

  On and on, he continued his onslaught, making me writhe and moan. His name on my lips as my fingers dug into his muscular back. He thrust inside of me again. And when I didn’t think I could take any more he retreated.

  Continuing his rigorous pace, I writhed against him. His hips dipped down, slowing. Clenching his muscled-buttocks, he met my hips once more. Not able to help myself, I cried out.

  “That’s it, lass,” he encouraged, reveling in the sweet torture he was eliciting.

  She tightened against him. Gavin moaned. He was beyond himself, beyond anything he had ever known, he increased his tempo, pumping harder, faster. Her hands shoved into his hair, pulling and clawing his back. Slicked in sweat he pumped faster, harder, pushing her, pushing himself, until she finally lost all control.

  As she shattered against him, she cried out, “I love you.”

  Gavin met her cries of passion with his own as he too finally slid right over the edge alongside her. Panting and covered in sweat, he smoothed his hand over her sweat-dampened hair and as the last of the tremors faded, the words she had said finally penetrated his brain. They were a spear to his heart, settling deep inside filling him with soul-deep pleasure that he had not known before, even when he was with Jillian. The girl he thought was his one and only… true love.

  Leaning forward, he pressed his forehead to hers, staring deeply into her eyes. “Lass, did ye say what I thought ye said?”

  I stared up into his blue-green almond shaped eyes and could see what it cost him to ask me that seemingly simple question. Not able to help myself, I nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, my Laird, I do love you.”

  A slow smile spread across his face. “So, ye finally admit what I’ve known all along.”

  “Hey…” I pushed against his sweat-dampened chest. “Watch it or else I may have to take it back.”

  “Nay, lass ye can not take it back.” His face grew serious. “I already have it locked tightly away right in here,” he touched his hand to his heart, “and I won’t be giving ye back the key.”

  In that moment, I fell completely, unequivocally, in love with him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND

  Sometime during the reign of King James

  Gavin stayed awake for sometime after the lass declared her love for him. It warmed his heart. With her head on his shoulder, he smoothed his fingers through her hair, starring up at the darkened ceiling, wondering what he was going to do. He needed a sacrifice when the moon was full again. But how could he do that to her knowing how she felt about him, and also knowing how he felt about her even though he did not utter the words out loud.

  Deep in his heart he knew the answer. But if he did nothing, surely his men would. Not having any answers readily available, he slowly albeit reluctantly, drifted off into a restless slumber.

  ♦

  The following morning when I woke, I was surprised and a little upset to find I was alone in bed. Rolling over, I hugged his pillow, smelling his heady scent as my mind rehashed the best night of my life.

  Being with Gavin was…wow. Really, that was the only word I could find that remotely came close to what I had experienced with him. And even though he didn’t tell me he loved me too, I convinced myself that he did. Reluctantly, I released his pillow, climbed from bed and got ready for the day. As I walked to the screen, I felt sore but I didn’t care. I just had the best sex of my life and a few aches and pains was well worth it. If I had my way, I would be this way every morning.

  ♦

  Later in the day, after I finished my chores, I went down to watch the men train. Sitting in my favorite gawking spot, I watched my highlander hack away at his opponent as though he was battling a demon…not one of his men.

  I didn’t know what to make of it. Shouldn’t he be in a good mood? I knew I was.

  The longer I watched though, the more unsettled I became. It seemed as though darkness was shrouding everything. Even the skies above had an ominous quality to them.

  Once they were finishing training, I slipped away up the well-worn path towards the castle to check on dinner. An abundance of wildflowers dotted the path. I stopped and bent over to pick some for the table.

  I gathered a good sized bouquet and stood back up. Pressing my hand to my lower back, I massaged the soreness.

  Heavy dark clouds moved across the horizon as day faded into night. Blades of green grass slid over on its side as the wind pushed its way across the rolling fields. Taking a deep breath, I clutched the flowers in my hand and started back up the steep incline. Almost to the top my skin prickled. It was same feeling I got in the castle a few days ago. I felt as though I was being watched. I tried to ignore it, chalking it up to my overactive imagination and kept walking up the path to get supper on the table and start the water boiling for the baths.

  I rounded the corner and pulled up short.

  Broderick, my least favorite Highlander, was leaning against the wall, his massive frame crowding the pathway.

  I had a sudden urge to run back the way I came but I squashed it down, and started walking again.

  Broderick leered at me as I tried to pass. “What are ye about, witch?” he scathed the word.

  “I’m not a witch.” I tried to step past him.

  He scoffed. “I know what ye are.” A glimmer of something akin to hate filled his eyes as he blocked my way. “There is no need ta lie ta me.”

  “I’m not lying to you,” I snipped, hoping to put an end to the conversation once and for all. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have chores to attend to.” I took another step.

  He grabbed my arm roughly and jerked me backward. My flowers scattered down on the path as my body slammed against his, knocking my breath from my lungs.

  “Not so fast, lass,” he scathed as his fingers cut into my arm.

  “What do you want?” I jerked my arm but it did no good. He was holding on too tightly.

  “Only the same as our Laird, I want ye ta tell me what ye know about the treasure.”

  “What treasure?” I had no idea what he was talking about.

  “Come now, lass. I can keep a secret. I swear if ye confide in me, I will help ye escape when the time comes.”

  “Why would I need to escape?” I jerked my arm again, but instead of letting me go he tightened his hold.

  He gave me a dubious look.

  “Ah, he didn’t tell ye about the treasure you are supposed to retrieve?”

  “No. I know nothing about a treasure.” He pulled me closer and his heady scent filled my nostrils, making my stomach churn.

  He smiled but it wasn’t nice in the least.

  “So ye don’t know.”

  “I already told you that I don’t anything about a treasure,” I told him. “Now, could you please let me go, I have supper to prepare.”

  He loosened his hold and I jerked my arm away.

  “Och, what are ye doing?” A male voice sounded from behind.

  “Mind yer business, Callum,” snapped Broderick.

  Callum walked closer. His eyes, the same green blue shade as my Highlander, flitted back and forth between me and Broderick.

  “She is my business. I
am supposed to help her get water for our baths.”

  “Says who?”

  “Our Laird, that’s who,” Callum said pulling himself up to his full height, which was still several inches beneath Broderick and nowhere near his girth.

  Broderick leaned down close so Callum couldn’t hear. “I’ll be watching ye,” he said and then stalked off down the path towards the fields.

  An eerie sense of dread filled me as I watched his departing form.

  “Lass, are ye all right?”

  “Yes,” I said, rubbing my arm.

  “Was he troubling ye?”

  “No,” I lied. “He was just asking me about supper.”

  His brows creased with concern. “Are ye sure?”

  “Yes. I am sure.”

  He gave me a doubtful look but didn’t press the issue.

  “Come, lass, I will walk with ye.” He extended his arm.

  Thankful for the support, I put my arm through his.

  We walked back to the castle leaving my lovely bouquet of flowers behind in the dirt.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND

  Sometime during the reign of King James

  After the evening meal, I went back to Gavin’s chamber to get his bath ready. I didn’t want to stay down in the main hall for longer than necessary because I still had an uneasy feeling from my encounter with Broderick. Thankfully, he didn’t come to dinner.

  Taking the large cloths off the chair where I had laid them to dry earlier, I placed them across the back of the wooden rim of the tub.

  The door creaked open and Gavin stepped into the room.

  “Hello,” I said as cheerily as I could. He had been so quiet during supper. Granted he was always quiet, but he seemed to have something on his mind. Something that I wasn’t sure I wanted to know about.

 

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