Highlander’s Wicked Desire (Wicked Highlanders Book 2)

by Fiona Faris

  “Aye,” James nodded. The men clapped each other on the shoulder and then parted ways.

  James turned to enter the castle and climbed the stairs to his room. He found Mary MacDonald sitting in a chair by the fireplace, Elizabeth still asleep in his bed. “How is she?” he asked in concern.

  “She has had a rough go o’ it, Me Laird, but she is resting peacefully now. Night terrors, ye ken, poor wee lass. She has been through so much.”

  “Aye, that she has; I dinnae care tae leave her, but I couldnae leave that Irish bastard tae run loose on our island, among our people.”

  “Did ye find him then?”

  “Nae, I didnae and it eats at me insides tae ken that he is out there. William has set a strong guard about the castle. Ye and Isla should be safe here. Take me maither’s auld rooms for the night.”

  “I thank ye, Me Laird.”

  “Ye have both been through enough at the hands o’ evil men. Ye dinnae need tae suffer further from the fear o’ the bastard runnin’ about.”

  Mary curtsied then left the room in search of Isla. James sighed and turned to gaze down at Elizabeth’s sleeping form. He had missed her terribly while she was gone. The fear he had felt at hearing of her abduction had completely consumed his entire being. Now, as he saw with his very own eyes that she was safe and alive in his bed, he could not stop the rush of tears that came to his eyes in relief. He thanked God for her deliverance as he knelt beside her. He reached up and brushed the dark curls from her face, soft from having been freshly washed and dried. Her pale cheeks were as smooth as silk as he traced her features with the tips of his fingers. He let his fingers trail down her arm to the place where he had kissed her wrist when they were handfasted. He noticed that the ribbon he had tied there was gone and assumed that it had been lost when she was taken. He pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of her wrist in the same place as before.

  “Father took it from me,” Elizabeth’s voice whispered in explanation, surprising him. “The ribbon.”

  He looked up and saw tears in her eyes. “’Tis nae matter, lass. Ye are here. Ye are alive. That is all that matters.”

  “It mattered to me. It was what got me through our time apart.”

  “Now I am here,” he whispered, picking her up in his arms and sitting down upon the bed with her in his lap. He encircled the place with his own fingers, using his own body to replace the lost ribbon. “How is that then?” he asked, smiling into her hair.

  “Better,” she murmured, snuggling down against him. “We are alive,” she whispered as if in disbelief, as if to say the words any louder would rob them of their truth.

  “Aye,” he answered, tipping her face up to look at him. He bent his head down and enveloped her lips with his own in a passionate kiss that was long overdue. “Me love,” he whispered, lifting his head, to caress her face. “I will nae allow ye tae be separated from me again.”

  “And I will never leave you again, no matter whether you command it or not.”

  “I was a fool tae send you away, a decision I deeply regret and will nae be repeatin’ e’er again.”

  “Good,” she smiled, biting his lower lip playfully. “You better not.”

  James growled and lowered his head, enveloping her lips once more. He stood, laying her down upon the bed, parting their lips only long enough to remove his clothes, and then rejoining her on the bed. Lying down on top of her, he braced his weight with his elbows so as not to crush her and kissed her tenderly once more. He intended to be gentle with her in spite of his ravenous hunger for her, but when she wrapped her legs around his waist and grabbed ahold of his arse with both hands, he could not hold himself back. “Now,” she whispered her command for him to enter her in earnest. James gladly obeyed, plunging his cock deep inside her in one powerful thrust that filled her completely. “James,” she cried out in pleasure.

  “Elizabeth,” James moaned in agonized need. He began to move inside her, plunging himself over and over again. Elizabeth cried out his name time and time again, pushing him ever forward. She clung to him with such fierceness, as if their very lives depended upon their bodies being joined together thus. When they fell over the edge of bliss, they fell together in one glorious burst of light.

  “I love ye, lass, with a fire that is more than any man has a right tae. Me soul is so intertwined with yers that I nae longer ken where I end and ye begin.”

  “And they shall become one flesh,” she quoted, running her fingers along his chest. “I did not understand what such words truly meant until I lay with you,” she whispered. “It is your blood that beats through my heart, not my own; it is your flesh that lies upon my bones, not my own, for I am yours forever.”

  James smiled kissing her gently. “Forever and a day.”

  The two of them fell into an exhausted slumber intertwined in each other’s arms. James did not know how long they had been asleep when he was startled awake by the sound of someone in the room with them. Opening his eyes, he found a dark figure standing over them and saw the flash of a knife in the fire’s light. James managed to roll both himself and Elizabeth out of the way and off the bed just as the knife came down and pierced the bed. The knife caught in the bedding for a moment, and James used the time it granted to leap up from the floor and launch himself at the man.

  They fell back together toward the fireplace, the light illuminating the face of Declan Carr. “Ye are a man o’ nae honor,” James growled, attempting to pin the man beneath him.

  “That is why I will win in the end,” Declan growled back. He pulled another knife from his belt and stabbed James in the back with it.

  James roared in pain, wrapping his hands around the Irishman’s throat. “Ye will ne’er hurt another lass again.” James pressed down hard in an attempt to crush the Irishman’s windpipe, but the knife in his back was causing him to lose a great deal of blood, taking his strength from him. Declan twisted the knife, causing James to release his hold for the briefest of moments. Declan kicked free of his grasp, and James fell back onto the floor.

  Declan stood, placing his boot on James’ throat. “I win, Scotsman.”

  The sound of a pistol split the air and Declan’s eyes registered first shock, then nothing at all as the life drained from them. The Irishman collapsed onto the floor in a sickening thud, never to rise again. James looked up in surprise and found Elizabeth standing with his pistol in her hands, smoke still floating in the air around her. She dropped the gun onto the bed and rushed over to James. “James!” she cried out in alarm examining the knife in his back. “My love!”

  “’Tis nae but a flesh wound,” James soothed her. “He didnae hit anythin’ that will kill me.”

  Elizabeth pulled the knife out and ripped the end of her nightdress for a bandage to stave the bleeding. “It is over then?” she asked, as if she could not believe that there was an end to the pain and fear.

  “Aye, lass, ‘tis o’er. ‘Tis good and truly o’er.” Elizabeth sobbed in relief as James pulled her gently into his arms. “Nae man will e’er hurt ye again for as long as I draw breath on this earth.”

  “Then you must breathe forever, my love. Swear it,” she demanded the impossible.

  James chuckled, “Aye, me love, forever and a day.”

  Epilogue

  James, William, Robbie, and Elizabeth rowed out to the British ship, Declan Carr’s body wrapped in linen between them in the dinghy. When they reached the ship, James and Elizabeth climbed up first, while William and Robbie handed up the Irishman’s body, then followed after it. “Laird MacDonald, was I not clear when I said that the Earl of Shea was to face English justice?” the redcoat captain demanded to know angrily.

  “Aye, Captian, ye were clear enough,” James answered turning to meet the consequences of his actions.

  “Then why does he lay before me in such a state?”

  “He tried tae murder me and me wife in our bed.”

  “Could you not have subdued the man?”

  “Nae
, I couldnae.”

  “That is unfortunate. What am I to tell my superiors? I fear there will be repercussions for you and your people. An English earl killed by a Scot is no small matter. They were quite adamant that the Earl was to meet English justice.”

  “He did,” Elizabeth stepped forward, her stance every bit that of the English lady she had once been. “I killed him.”

  “You, My Lady?”

  “Yes, I shot him.”

  “And you expect me to believe such a tale?” the captain turned to James in disbelief.

  “I dinnae expect ye tae believe anythin’.”

  “Is it true?”

  “Aye, ‘tis true and ‘twas a bonnie shot tae,” James answered with pride, smiling down at his bride.

  Elizabeth smiled back up at him then turned an icy glare back to the English captain. “Do you doubt the word of an English noblewoman, Captain? Do you presume to impugn my honor?” The sound of Scottish swords being partially unsheathed sounded around the ship between James and Duncan’s men as if to emphasize her words. The message was clear: accept the lady’s words or suffer the consequences.

  The Captain blustered, shaking his head, “Nay, of course not, My Lady. I am certain that my superiors will be happy to hear that the brigand lost his life to English hands. Forgive my impudence, My Lady.”

  Elizabeth nodded her head as regally as a queen pardoning one of her subjects. The transformation in her since recovering her memories and killing the Earl had been a marvel to see. Gone were the indecision and fear, in its place was confidence and authority, a surety of her place in the world and in James’ love. James’ heart glowed with so much pride that he thought it might burst with the loving of her. He watched as she walked over to her father, chained and on his knees in the middle of the ship’s deck. “Why?” she asked the simple word that held so much more meaning than anyone present could ever have fathomed.

  “Your mother had an affair. She shamed me and had to pay the price. I knew of the Earl’s proclivities from past acquaintance, and we came to an arrangement. He would seduce her then kill her, making it to look like an accident so that it would never come back on me. You were not supposed to be present. Instead of killing you, the Earl demanded you as payment. You were too young to understand what had happened and life went on without you ever speaking of the incident, until one night many years later when I heard you crying out in your sleep. You had begun to remember what had happened. I knew then it was time to send you away to Declan to deal with.”

  “How could you do such a thing to your own daughter?” she demanded angrily.

  “You were never my blood.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened in surprise. “The solicitor, Robert, with my mother’s portrait?” she gasped backing away.

  The Earl nodded. “I discovered the truth not long before you left for Ireland. Declan was to kill the man when you arrived. Your mother was certainly predictable in her choice of men. She knew no other way but to be beaten,” he chuckled in evil amusement.

  “Then I am completely free of you,” Elizabeth backed away into James’ waiting arms. “I need not mourn you out of obligation when you are hanging from the end of a rope for your crimes, and I will bear witness at your trial to see it so.”

  “As will the entirety o’ yer household,” Ian added coming up to stand beside Elizabeth. “When the servants heard o’ the danger ye were in, lass, they o’er came their fear o’ the Earl’s retribution and have all come forward tae testify against him and the Irishman in the murder o’ yer maither. The Earl will nae escape the noose, nae matter his title.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Thank you, Ian. I owe you a great debt.”

  “Nae, lass. ‘Tis nae but the repayment o’ a debt owed tae yer husband for savin’ the lives o’ me clan.”

  “I would say we are e’en now,” James smiled, offering his hand to the Scotsman.

  “Aye, I suppose we are,” Ian grinned.

  Duncan came over and slapped Ian on the back in pride. “Shall we go home then?” he asked in comradery. “I hear me Marra callin’ me.”

  “Aye, home,” Ian grinned, his love for Jura clear upon his face.

  Duncan shook James’ hand, “Until next time, me friend.”

  “Until next time.”

  Duncan and Ian turned and boarded the Irishman’s ship with their men and readied to set sail.

  Elizabeth smiled and looked up at James. “That sounds right to me,” she murmured.

  “Aye?” James smiled down at her lovingly.

  “Aye,” she mimicked his Scottish brogue. “Take me home, Me Laird.”

  “As ye wish, Me Lady,” James bowed gallantly over her hand, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “With pleasure.” And with that, he swept her up into his arms and did as bidden. He took her home to Skye.

  The End?

  Extended Epilogue

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  Afterword

  Thank you for reading my novel, Highlander’s Wicked Desire. I really hope you enjoyed it! If you did, could you please be so kind to write a review HERE?

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  Wicked Highlanders

  Book#1

  Highlander’s Wicked Game

  * * *

  Book#2 (this book)

  Highlander’s Wicked Desire

  Do you want more Romance?

  Turn on the next page to read the first chapters of the prequel to this story, which was my first best-selling novel: Highlander’s Wicked Game

  It’s a story about two persons that fate brought together, despite the long lasting hate between their families...

  * * *

  Highlander's Wicked Game

  Prologue

  The joyous cries of children at play filled the forest, bouncing off of the trees and echoing out across the water. A six year old boy gave chase, weaving in and out of the crowded gathering, quick on the heels of a pretty little red haired girl. He had been standing watching his father’s men tossing cabers when she had come up behind him and pulled his hair. He had taken off after her, and she had squealed in a delightful fright. They raced across the earth as if their tiny little feet had wings. When the boy caught up to the girl, he grabbed her by her skirts and jerked on them. The girl fell forward, sending them both tumbling to the ground and rolling limb over limb. They emerged in breathless laughter, their eyes sparkling with joy.

  “Let’s do it again!” she exclaimed, her green eyes shining with enthusiasm.

  “Aye,” the boy replied, grinning and taking her hand to help her to her feet.

  Angry voices interrupted their play as their fathers called their names.

  “Duncan!”

  “Marra!”

  The children turned their heads meeting two very angry faces. Each father grabbed up his child and quickly pulled them apart, and they walked in opposite directions.

  “Marra, ye are ne’er tae play with a Campbell, ever! Do ye hear me?”

  “Aye, Faither,” the girl whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks as she watched the boy with blue eyes disappear from sight.

  Chapter One

  Duncan MacGregor stood at the water’s edge and stared out across the blue-grey expanse toward the Isle of Jura. His cousin, Lachlan, stood beside him and spat on the ground in disgust. “Clan MacDonald,” Lachlan bit out, his tone full of hatred. The two cousins had been taught from an early age to hate the MacDonalds of Jura. Duncan’s father had had a falling out with the Jura laird at the battle of Dunkeld, and amends had never been made. The MacGregor laird had ensured that the feud would continue long after he was gone
by passing his hatred on to the next generation.

  “Aye, but their lands have the best deer in the islands,” Duncan noted. He longed to cross the water for a good hunt.

  “Ye spend tae much o’ yer time huntin’ and nae enough trainin’ with me,” Lachlan chastised. “Ye were meant tae be a warrior for yer clan nae a hunter. Leave huntin’ tae the auld men. The blood o’ our enemies cries out tae be spilled.”