Highlander’s Wicked Desire (Wicked Highlanders Book 2)

by Fiona Faris

  She felt another stab of guilt. What they had shared had been so much more than that. They had made love, actual love. Whether he honored that afterward, she had no control over; but she demeaned herself by thinking that what they had shared was anything less than it was. It had been beautiful and passionate and should be remembered as such, regardless of what had transpired thereafter. Frustrated with her situation and her own feelings about it all, Elizabeth surrendered to exhaustion and lay down to sleep. Her last thought before sleep claimed her was of James’ naked body atop of hers, her legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust home. I cannot help but love him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  James lay in bed staring up at the ceiling. He had not been able to sleep since hearing of Elizabeth’s disappearance. After everything that she had gone through during the storm, he could not believe that she had been so foolish. Despite his anger at her reckless behavior, every part of him ached for her. He longed for the feel of her skin upon his own, the way she moved beneath him, rising up to meet him with every thrust. He missed her smile, her laughter, even her tears. If I cannae last a week without her, how am I tae do so for the rest o’ me life?

  He rolled over groaning, his entire body rippling with need. Standing, he wrapped his kilt around his waist and left the castle. Walking down to the shoreline, he dropped his kilt then waded into the cold North Atlantic waters. He could have slacked his need on any number of willing clanswoman, but he did not desire another woman. He wanted Elizabeth and no other. Diving beneath the water’s surface, he swam out to the end of the rocky promontory that Knock Castle sat upon and back again. Desire still coursed through his veins in spite of the cold water. Growling, he dove under and swam out further.

  When he came up out of the water, he realized that he was not alone. The man appeared to have come from the ship. Staying low he watched as a man’s head bobbed up and down in the water, moving toward the far shoreline. James followed swimming far enough behind so as not to be noticed. He was not happy about chasing spies in the dark while naked, but he was not about to let the opportunity pass to catch one of the Earl’s men. The man swam farther and farther down the shoreline without stopping. The man is a bloody fish. James was a good swimmer, but even with all of his years growing up on an island, he could barely keep up with the man.

  They swam for a long time before the man finally climbed ashore. James waited until the man was nearly out of sight before he crawled up out of the water. The cold night air on his wet skin made him shiver, his muscles tightening in reaction to the chill. He followed the man, being sure to keep out of sight until they came to a flat place where he had nothing to hide behind. He scanned the landscape and realized that they were near his own croft. He peered through the darkness in the direction of the house, attempting to gauge the distance. It was not far at all. He wondered if he could manage to get there and retrieve his clothes without being noticed. He would rather not tackle the man in the nude.

  He looked back to find that the man must have noticed the outline of the building in the darkness, as he had turned toward it. James followed keeping close to the ground. When the man entered the house, James ran to make up the difference and edged along the side of the wall. He did not have a weapon to defend himself with, but if he could take him by surprise, he might be able to subdue him. He eased his way to the door and braced himself for whatever may come. When a woman’s scream pierced the air, James charged into the house not knowing what to expect. The house should have been empty. The only person that he could possibly imagine the scream coming from was Elizabeth.

  When he entered the room, the flame in the fireplace backlit the man in a clear silhouette. Elizabeth lay on the bed, her eyes wide with terror, the man holding a knife to her throat. “Dinnae touch her!”

  “What is your name, girl?” the man growled, clearly an Englishman.

  “Dinnae answer him,” James ordered her.

  “You will answer me, or I will slit your throat,” he threatened in her ear, his breath moving her hair across her cheek. Elizabeth cringed away from him, but he held her fast.

  “Elizabeth. My name is Elizabeth,” she panted out in fear.

  “Elizabeth? What is your surname?”

  “MacDonald,” James lied. “She is me wife.”

  “And who are you?”

  “I am James Alexander MacDonald, Laird o’ Knock Castle, and ye are holdin’ a knife tae me lady’s throat.”

  “You married an Englishwoman?”

  “Aye. I did, and if ye dinnae let her go I will kill ye where ye stand.”

  “I am looking for a lady by the name of Elizabeth, Lady Elizabeth Dawson, the daughter of the Earl of Bierely, and your wife’s name just happens to be Elizabeth. Am I to believe that this is so?”

  “There are many lasses who bear the name, are there nae?”

  “Yes, there are.”

  The man studied James’ face intently as if to read whether he was telling the truth or not. James could see the glimmer of doubt in the man’s eyes, and the confusion marring Elizabeth’s brow was not going to aid in convincing him. He knew that the man needed to be pushed, but he did not want to push him so far that he would hurt Elizabeth. He took a step forward. “Now unhand me wife,” he demanded.

  “Stay back.”

  He took another step forward. “Unhand me wife.”

  “How do I know that you are telling me the truth?”

  “Why would I lie?”

  “To keep her as your prisoner. You Scots are not to be trusted with such things, stealing our women. How do I know that you did not steal this one? How do I know that she is not the noble lady I seek?”

  “If ye slit her throat ye will ne’er ken who she is.”

  The man’s face scrunched in hesitation, and his hand holding the knife wavered. It was all the moment that James needed. Leaping the distance that remained between them, he knocked the knife from the man’s hand, setting Elizabeth free from his grasp. They rolled around on the ground wrestling for the advantage one over the other. The man’s elbow came around crashing into James’ jaw. James grabbed the Englishman’s arm and wrenched it behind his back until he heard it snap. The man screamed in pain. “I will kill you!”

  “Nae afore I kill ye,” James replied, then snapped the man’s neck.

  Elizabeth screamed in terror. “You killed him! What have you done? Did that man know me? Am I the Elizabeth that he was looking for? Did he hold the key to my past?” She trembled so hard that the bed shook beneath her.

  “He was goin’ tae kill ye. I had nae choice.”

  “Why would he want to kill me?”

  “Ye were here. Ye were in his way.”

  “Nay,” she shook her head in protest. “There is more to it than that. He said he was looking for Lady Elizabeth Dawson, daughter to the Earl of Bierley. Am I she? Am I the lady he was looking for?”

  James closed his eyes for a moment, sighed, and then moved to sit down beside her on the bed. He pulled a box out from beneath the bed, opened it, and retrieved a shirt and plaid from it. He thought that perhaps it was a conversation best to have clothed. Once he was dressed, he turned to face her. “Aye, it is ye that they seek.”

  “Then why did you lie to him, claiming that I was your wife? Why did you not tell him the truth? Why did you not tell me the truth?” Tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “Because the man who seeks ye out is a monster who will do nae but hurt ye. Nae sooner did he enter the castle then he raped Isla MacDonald. He will do the same tae ye. Is that the life that ye wish tae have? Do ye wish tae be beatin’ and raped? I will nae allow it. If it takes killin’ every last man on that ship, I will do so tae keep ye safe.”

  “Ship? Man?”

  “Declan Carr, Earl of Shea, your betrothed. It was he that ye were sailin’ tae when yer shipwrecked. He has come lookin’ for ye. He does nae ken that ye are here, and he will nae as long as ye remain hidden from sight. All within the clan who ken yer presence ha
ve been warned nae tae say anythin’ about ye tae the Earl or his men. They will nae take ye as long as I am alive.” He went on to explain what little he knew about the arrangement between her father and the Earl.

  “How could you not tell me? How could you take such a choice away from me?”

  “Ye would go tae be with a man such as the Earl? That is nae a choice. That is certain pain and death.”

  “And if I do not go with him, then it is certain pain and death for you and your people. You warned me what would befall your clan were I not to return to England before they sent English soldiers after me.”

  “Aye, and I also told ye that I wouldnae return ye tae England until I kenned that ye would be safe. I still hold true to that promise.”

  “Regardless of the cost? We both know that you will not sacrifice your clan, nor would I let you for my sake.”

  “I will nae turn ye over tae such a beast, nor would me people.”

  “They have no love for the English. I am a Sassenach as you are all so fond of calling me. My people are the bane of yours. How can they be expected to risk themselves for the sake of their enemy?”

  “Ye are nae the enemy.”

  “Then what am I? I do not remember England, and yet I am not Scottish. The sea birthed me onto these shores, leaving me with naught but what I have done and seen since my arrival on the Isle of Skye. What are we if not such things? I am no longer English, and yet I am not considered to be Scottish, nor am I Irish, as I was not yet wed to the Earl if he is only my betrothed as you say. I am naught but of the sea and yet to return to the sea means certain death. I have no home. I have no name. I have no people. I am naught but breath and flesh. I am just an animal to be sacrificed on the altar of my father’s greed and another man’s lust.”

  “Nae, ye are so much more than that.” James pulled her into his arms. She fought him at first, angry and confused over all that had happened. He cradled her against his chest as the sobs wracked her body. She succumbed to the comfort of his warmth, laying her head on his shoulder. “Och, lass. All will be well in time. I have men inquirin’ in tae yer family in England and yer betrothed in Ireland. We will find a safe place for ye either among yer own people or here with us. We will find a way, but I cannae send ye off with that bastard Irishman Carr. I cannae do it.”

  “Why? Why would you risk so much for me?”

  “Because I love ye.” He kissed her forehead, her cheek, and her lips. “I love ye,” he whispered, threading his fingers through her hair as he placed his hands on either side of her face. “I love ye.” He drew her in passionately seizing her lips with his own.

  Elizabeth responded, wrapping her arms around his neck as he laid her beneath him upon the bed. They made quick work of shedding their clothing and lay back down, their bodies melding into one. James thrust inside of her hot, wet sheath, his cock throbbing with need for her. Elizabeth cried out in pleasure as he drove the full length of himself inside her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him ever closer to her, her hips thrusting up to meet him with every movement. The moment was one of pure ecstasy as in a fevered passion they took each other over the precipice into the light between life and death, and then crashed back down to the world of the living.

  James lay panting atop her, his forehead against hers. “I love ye,” he whispered.

  “And I love you,” she whispered back. Their eyes were locked together, saying things between them that no mere words could express. The moment was intense as if every part of his being was connected to hers, hers to him. The feeling between them was so strong it threatened to rob him of breath. Afraid he would crush her with his weight; he moved over to her side and caught sight of the dead man lying upon the floor. In the fevered passion of the moment, he had forgotten that it was there. “Och,” he groaned, as he rolled off the bed. He had not intended to make love to her with a dead man in the room. She must think me a beast, a man o’ nae honor. “I am sorry, lass. I didnae mean tae leave him there like that while we…” His words faded away. He was ashamed of his behavior.

  “Nay, it is I who should apologize. You were only trying to save me, and I chastised you most harshly for it.”

  “I should nae have kept such a thing secret from ye. Ye are right in that it is yer choice what ye do with yer own life. I should ne’er have taken that choice from ye.”

  She shook her head. “How could I ever go with a man who rapes and beats women? You did the right thing in protecting me, in spite of the deception. I will not have anyone put in danger over me. If I must choose between my life or theirs, I will go with the Earl to save them.”

  “I wouldnae have it.” He reached out to caress her cheek. “I wouldnae turn ye o’er tae that cur for anythin’.”

  “It is not solely your decision,” she gently reminded.

  Sighing, James nodded. “For now, I must remove this body from sight. I will return him tae the ship upon the morrow.”

  “Will they not be angry that you have killed one of their men?”

  “Aye, they will be, but there is nothin’ for it. If I dinnae return the man, it will give them greater cause tae send more spies tae seek him out.”

  “What will you say happened?”

  “I will be honest and tell them that he broke in tae me home and attacked me woman.”

  Elizabeth smiled ever so slightly. “Your woman?”

  “Aye, me woman,” he growled low in his throat and nuzzled her neck in affection, nipping at her nape with his teeth as if to lay claim upon her person. He felt her shiver in delight and, had there not been a dead man on the floor that needed tending, he would have made love to her all over again.

  Rising, he pulled the dead man up by the shoulders and dragged him from the room. The horse that Elizabeth had borrowed from Andrew MacDonald stood tied to the side of the building. He would need it upon the morrow to take the body back to the castle. From there, he would put it in a boat and have his men row it out to the ship with a letter of explanation. He would have taken the body himself, but he could not risk leaving Skye with everything that had happened, even if only out to the ship and back. It was likely that they would attempt to take him prisoner were it he that took the body since he was the man’s killer. He could not risk leaving Elizabeth and his clan without protection. They would have no cause to accost innocent men, so those that he sent would be safe from such threats.

  He returned to the house and found Elizabeth, clothed once more, attempting to tidy the mess made by the fight. She was sweeping up broken pieces of a clay pot that had shattered, having fallen from the table. He noted a red smear at her throat where the man’s knife had nicked the flesh; it was not deep and would not cause her any trouble, but he still paused in his approach. The thought of her being harmed and what could have happened had he not been there quickened his heart in concern. He would have taken her back tae that ship, and I would ne’er have seen her again, nor kenned what had happened tae her. Or he could have slit her throat, and I wouldnae have kenned it for days, tae find naught but her rottin’ corpse. His heart was seized with pain over the thought.

  Moving to kneel beside her, James aided her in cleaning up the mess, then rising, pulled her into his arms. “I could have lost ye,” he whispered.

  “But you did not lose me, though you will and soon I expect, now that we know who I am and to whom I belong.”

  James nearly choked on the thought. Now that I have held her in me arms, felt her, tasted her, loved her… how am I tae let her go? He bent his head and kissed her passionately. Picking her up, he carried her over to the bed. “Ye belong with me.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Come the morning, James placed the man’s body over the back of Andrew’s borrowed horse. Elizabeth stood beside him, the wind from the sea whipping his mother’s arisaid about her slender form. He was loath to leave her, but he had little choice if he did not wish more of the Earl’s men ashore. He hoped that the Earl would give up his search upon the Isle of Skye an
d leave for other lands. He doubted that his letter claiming that the woman the Earl sought was not upon the island would be enough to convince the man to leave, but it was the best that he could do without killing everyone aboard the ship and sinking it to protect her. Such an act would have only made matters worse, and he was not a murderer to take life as if it were of little consequence.