All kinds of horrors came to mind as she speculated about his condition. He was a strong man, and she was sure even if the bone had poked through the skin, he’d carry himself with the same fierce bravado. She knew how she felt about Declan fussing over her, though, and decided not to push Angus further, trusting he would tell them if the pain grew too bad.
As darkness fell and a sliver of moon pierced the dark, surrounded by starlight, Rosalie could see sweat gathering at Angus’s brow. “Ye think we should stop fer the night?” She asked Declan.
Declan shook his head. “Jus’ a little further. Angus?”
Angus didn’t have words. He grunted in response. Rosalie was worried about him; he looked feverish. Even if they stopped for the night, there was little she could do for him.
“Ye think he’ll be all right?” Rosalie asked Declan.
“I dinnae ken. The best we can do is get him home.”
Rosalie sensed shortness in Declan. “Are ye all right?”
“Huh?” He turned to her. “Oh.” A frown crossed his face, “It’s jus’ ye’ll be home soon, an’…” he did not finish the thought. “I’m fine.”
Rosalie raised an eyebrow. “I don’t believe ye.”
Declan looked at her. “I’m nervous, is all.”
“About?”
“Returnin’ back to Loch Awe.” He took a deep inhale and looked up at the stars. “I’m scared ye’ll leave me.”
Rosalie smiled. “I don’t see that happenin’.”
Declan looked at her. A glimmer of excitement sparked in his eyes. “Aye? Is that so?”
“Aye, I’ve had my mind made up awhile now.” Declan looked at her. She could tell he was hanging on her words. She paused until she saw him shift in his saddle in anticipation. “As long as ye’ll have me, yer stuck with me, Declan.”
His name tasted sweet on her tongue. A smile broke over Declan’s face. “Ye look beautiful tonight.”
Rosalie laughed. She could see the frizz haloing her curls in her peripherals. She imagined her hair mussed and ratted in a wild mane. She looked down at her attire. She was still wearing Declan’s clothes, which were much too big for her and now stained in blood.
“Aye, I look like a real charmer.”
Declan smiled, “Ye look strong. Ye surprise me daily, Rosalie. The way ye made that sling…” He inhaled sharp and shook his head. “If it weren’t for us bein’ attacked, I think I might’ve pounced on ye right then.”
“Is that so?” She laughed.
“Aye,” Declan nodded. “I’ll remember how fierce ye can be next time I want tae let me tongue get the best o’ me.” He winked.
The flirtations made her heart flutter. She felt beautiful. She was covered in sweat and grime and blood, dressed in men’s clothes, and yet he still made her feel stunning. Her heart was too swollen for words. Pain touched her smiling cheeks, but she could not help but continue grinning. Love seemed to overwhelm every nerve and thought. They rode on in silence, flirting with their eyes until everyone was too wary for even that.
Rosalie’s body ached from the days of riding. She was exhausted and kept falling asleep in her saddle. It took most of her mental capacity to stay awake as they scaled up a steep hill just short of a butte.
As they reached the top, Declan let out a holler of good cheer that startled Rosalie. “Ye see that? Ye see that Rosie, dear?” He turned to her, smiling, and whatever exhaustion she experienced vanished with his next words, “That’s the Brody Keep!”
“We need to get him help,” Rosalie looked at Angus. He was slumped over his saddle, barely staying awake.
“Jus’ a little further.”
As soon as they drew near, people burst into activity upon recognizing Declan and Angus. They had both lost weight and sported full beards from the long journey through the Highlands, although the people still recognized them, waiting for their return. Angus collapsed upon dismounting, not far from the entrance to his quaint cottage.
Aggie burst out and gestured for Declan and Rosalie to step aside. They were both amazed to see the large woman support the bulk of her husband’s weight and help him limp into their home. Declan and Rosalie followed sheepishly behind, unsure of how to help.
“Boys, ge’ the water goin’ an’ grab me some whiskey.” Aggie turned to Rosalie. “Nice to see you, dear. Now, if ye’ll both please leave, I have work tae do ‘ere. You’ve brought me husband home in quite the mess!” She scowled at Declan.
“We were attacked last nigh’.”
“I don’t give a damn if it were the devil himself that attacked ye; oot while tending to ‘im. They’ll have rooms fer ye in the keep. Now get. I cannae work with ye hoverin’, an’ the bairns ken how tae help.”
Rosalie was shocked by her curt and rude nature. Declan smiled at her expression. “Come on,” he said, “He’s in good hands.”
As soon as they made it outside, the door slammed behind them, and Aggie’s voice rose, nagging at her husband for getting injured. Rosalie whispered, “She’s so angry.”
Declan laughed. “Aye, but they love each other like mad. I’ve seen it.”
Rosalie, seeing the grin on Declan’s face, burst out laughing. Both of them laughed, letting the fear and anxiety of the past week's release from their bodies. It felt like home to be within the confines of a friendly Keep. Declan slipped his hand into Rosalie’s. Their eyes met. Their fight seemed silly in the wake of things, ridiculous and miles away.
No one talked to them much when they entered the keep. Declan assumed it was because of their appearance. Rosalie was wearing men’s clothes, much too large for her. Soot left a black streak on her cheek. The tail of her shirt was torn, and her curls large, tangled, and ringed with frizz.
The rooms they were showed two were right next to each other. They stood holding each other’s hand in front of Rosalie’s door. He did not want to leave her side.
“Declan,” she whispered.
“Hm?”
“Will you stay with me? I-I don’t want to be alone.” Rosalie’s cheeks blushed. She did not look at him. Her hand fidgeted with one of her curls.
Declan smiled. “O’ course, lass.”
Declan and Rosalie fell in, smiling and oblivious of everything except each other’s eyes. A cough from the corner of the room startled them. They jumped apart from one another at the sight of an older woman standing next to a steaming bath. The lady giggled, eyeing them knowingly, and left. Rosalie and Declan burst into laughter as soon as the door closed behind her.
When their laughter died, Rosalie became serious. “Declan,” she placed her hand on his chest, “Abou’ earlier. It’s no’ that I don’t trust you or that I don’t want to live with you. It’s jus’ I feel trapped by everyone. I never meant to offend you.”
“Shh,” Declan brushed her lips with his thumb. Rosalie looked up at him. He wrapped his arm around her, “I were foolish, I was. I wasnae listenin’, nae really. Yer right, I am a stubborn arse.” Rosalie smiled affectionately. “I let me temper run away from me instead o’ tryin’ tae understand how ye must feel. I thought about it a lot after the wolves. It’s all I could think abou’.” He rolled his eyes up, “Ye’ve been through so much—firs’ Enoch, then this.” He gestured south before cupping her cheek in his hand. “Rosalie,” he looked deep into her eyes, “I love ye.”
Rosalie sucked in air. He could feel her breath stop. Joy flooded her eyes. “I love ye too. I’ve known it awhile now; I was just too scared tae tell ye. That’s why I go’ so mad when ye weren’t understandin’ what I was tryin’ to say earlier.”
Declan was overjoyed and stopped her words with kisses. Their bodies melted into one another. No two people could come closer together without melding into one. He kissed her lips softly as if the moment might break if he moved too quickly, if he did not cherish every tremble, every moan, every touch.
Rosalie stepped back from him. He reached out to her, not wanting to part from her embrace. She pulled his shirt from over her head
. Declan clutched at his heart as he took her in. Her breasts were no bigger than the palm of his hand, firm and white as milk with small pink nipples poking between red curls. She could not look at him as she let the trousers fall to her ankles and pushed them aside.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Yer th’ most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Rosalie.”
Under her gaze, he felt important, powerful, and loved. Declan undressed and stepped toward her. He noticed the slight fear in her eyes, the nervousness, as she looked down at him. He kissed her, cradling her face in his hands.
Declan pressed against the inside of Rosalie’s thigh. He rubbed his thumb gently over one of her nipples and felt her wetness slip past her lips. Unable to take anymore, Declan scooped her up, causing Rosalie to cry in surprise and delight. He ran her to the bed and let her fall back. Her hair splayed like wings around her.
Rosalie’s knees buckled together with nervousness. Declan went slow, kissing her neck, her collar bones, and down the middle of her chest. He stopped and took one of her nipples into his mouth, relishing her gasp in pleasure. Rosalie’s knees opened, inviting him in, and he returned his eyes up to hers.
“I love you,” he said once more before pressing his tip against her opening.
Rosalie kissed him and looked at him with her bright green eyes, “And I, you.” She wiggled to welcome him inside of her.
Declan was gentle. Rosalie’s eyes widened, her hands grasped at his back as he entered her slowly, letting her body adjust inch by inch. Their eyes never parted. Magic sparked between them as they united into one being. The world and all of their troubles dropped away. Rosalie gripped at him, burying her face into his chest and letting out a soft cry before pushing her hips forward.
“Are ye all right, lassie? Did I hurt you?”
Declan froze. He tried to pull out, but she held him tight against her. Declan kissed her again on her cheek and nose and lips until he felt her relax. He kissed and nibbled at her neck until he heard her moan.
Declan was overcome by pleasure. They fell into a rhythm, caressing one another with tender affection. He picked up his pace; each cry of joy from Rosalie brought him closer to orgasm. He felt her tighten around him, throwing back her head in ecstasy. Declan moaned as he stabilized himself against the stone wall and released inside of her.
They didn’t completely separate when their passion was over, but Declan rolled over and pulled Rosalie into his arms. They lay together, catching their breath. He could feel her soft hair spread over his sensitive skin, sending jolts of energy with each tiny movement. Her grin spread over her face.
Declan smiled as Rosalie giggled and buried her head into him, and euphoria colored her cheeks. They did not speak until long after their breath calmed, the moment too perfect and words insufficient for describing the joy and pleasure they shared.
Rosalie was the one to stand finally. She popped up from the bed, kissed Declan on the cheek, and climbed over him. Her step carried a bounce that made her curls bob. Declan admired her figure as she walked towards the tub. She turned her head and grinned, making his heart melt as she dipped her hand into the basin.
“It’s still warm,” she said. “Join me?”
Declan stood immediately. The exhaustion he felt not even an hour ago seemed to vanish completely. They slipped into the tub, their legs intertwined as their hands washed one another’s bodies. The touch brought cried of pleasure and surges of ecstasy against their hyper-sensitive skin.
Declan took his time, passing the cloth over the smudges of soot. Rosalie closed her eyes, her smile showing her teeth in full. He could not help himself. Her kisses were addictive. He pulled Rosalie closer to him until she was straddling his abdomen, her legs wrapped tight around his body.
When they broke from one another, Declan held her tightly. He could hear each breath in his ear. He could feel her rapid pulse. What amazed and touched him most was how relaxed she was in his arms. There was not a muscle in her body holding back from him.
“I feel safe when I’m with ye,” she whispered, her lips grazing against his neck.
Declan brushed her hair behind her back and kissed her cheek, “Ye are.” His fingers brushed against the lacerations cutting over her spine. “I’ll ne’er let anythin’ happen to ye again.”
“I know.” She ran her finger in a slow circle over his chest. “None o’ that were yer fault. It wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t tell ye tae go. Declan,” she looked up at him, “I ne’er want this to end.”
His heart jumped. “Nor I.”
They held each other until the water ran cold. Declan stepped out and restoked the fire while Rosalie washed her hair as quickly as possible in the chilling water. They curled up beneath the blankets and fell asleep in each other’s arms, full-heartedly satisfied and at peace.
It was dawn when Declan awoke to Rosalie’s soft kisses. She sat on top of him, her smile brimming with mischief. The blankets folded around her hips. They covered nothing. She sat, unaware of how breathtaking she looked in the soft light.
“Good mornin’, handsome.”
“Mornin’,” he pulled one of her curls, letting it slip through his fingers as the back of his hand grazed one of her nipples.
Declan tensed, surprised, at the touch of her cold hands, finding him stiff. He tried to touch her in return, but she bit her lip and shook her head, pushing his hands down to hold her hips. Her pace increased, and Declan knocked his head back, relaxing under her persistent gaze.
His eyes jolted open as he slipped into her, warm and wet. He tightened his grip on her hips. Rosalie giggled at the response. She pressed her hands against his chest, using it as leverage as her hips moved up and down. The young woman moved with a slow, fluid grace.
Declan’s fingers dug into her soft flesh, “If ye keep tha’ up, I’m goin’ tae—” his train of thought lost as she increased her pace.
He tried to push her off of him to regain control, to make sure she was satisfied before him. She pulled her knees in tight and pressed herself against him. Declan’s eyes rolled back as Rosalie’s tongue entered his mouth. The more he struggled, the more she worked, all while smiling between kisses and moans.
Declan pushed himself deep inside of her. His entire body quivered. She tried to lift her hips, but the pleasure was overwhelming. He held her tightly to him as he came. She cried out as he swelled and pulsed deep within her, struggling to pull back from the ecstasy racking her body, until she collapsed over him, her breath hot and rhythmic against his neck.
“Yer incredible,” he panted, amazed at how lucky he was.
A knock sounded at the door. Rosalie’s eyes flew open. In a flash, she was speeding around the room, pulling on clothes, fussing over her hair, and trying to make the bed look somewhat presentable. Declan laughed at her attempts as he took his time pulling on his shirt.
When he opened the door, Rosalie cowered nervously by the window. The way her cheeks flushed and the demure glint, the slight embarrassment in her eyes, gave away everything she wished to hide. She was in love, smitten, astounded and overwhelmed by euphoric bliss, and it radiated from her as if she screamed it at the top of her lungs.
Angus peeked around Declan and winked at Rosalie. “Good tae see you two made up.” Rosalie covered her smile and rosy cheeks with her hands, causing both Declan and Angus to laugh.
“You look much better.” Declan smacked him on the arm.
Aggie rounded the corner, “That’s ‘cause there’s nothin’ wrong with him ‘cept a surface wound an’ a bad hangover!”
Angus looked away from Declan and shrugged. “It felt like I were goin’ tae die. An’ it ain’t a surface wound, woman! Look at me leg!” Angus pulled up his trousers to reveal a swollen calf. “I can barely walk, Aggie!”
“But ye can walk!”
Declan and Rosalie laughed. Aggie smiled at the two, looking between them and then to the bed, “If yer hungry, there’s a meal downstairs fer ye. Chief wants tae ken yer pl
ans.”
Rosalie rushed forward. “We’re leaving today.”
Declan’s mouth hung open, the answer stolen from him. He looked at Rosalie. “Today?”
“Aye,” she nodded, biting her lower lip in a way that drove him mad. “If I can get tae Magda in time, I’d like to.”
Declan nodded. He would have liked to spend more time rolling in the bedsheets with Rosalie, but he understood how important this was for her. He tried to imagine what it would feel like if it were his mother he was trying to say goodbye too.
“Aye, we leave today then.”
“Good,” Angus said. He looked up from his leg and saw Rosalie and Declan staring at him, confused. “What? Chief is no’ one fer hospitality,” he shrugged, “He’ll like ye better if ye keep it short an’ to the point. Come on,” Angus turned. “I’m starvin’.”
Highlander’s Gypsy Lass (Highlander's 0f Clan Macgregor Book 1) Page 25
