To Win a Highland Scot: A Time-Traveler’s Highland Love, Book 3

by Gill, Tamara

  Boyd frowned down at her, wrenching back as if her words pained him. His breathing increased, and he cringed.

  Maya watched in awe as the last of his silver-white hair faded and in its place were thick, dark, wavy red locks past his shoulders. So that was what the Boyd Macleod of the fifteenth century once looked like before the curse.

  Her heart thumped hard in her chest that the virile, sweet, and gorgeous highlander was hers. It was too much. How lucky was she?

  "Boyd, are you okay?"

  "Aye, lass. ’Tis fine, I just…" He took two deep breaths, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "A pain ’tis all. No, a weight. I feel as if a weight has lifted."

  Maya bit her lip, hope blooming inside her. "The curse. It has to be that." She reached for him, taking his hands. "I think it may have lifted."

  That was what it had to have been. There was no other reason for him to morph back into the laird he'd been one hundred years before. He was mortal, and his love was true.

  He loved her without a shadow of a doubt.

  His eyes met hers, and she could see he was thinking the same. That what she said was accurate and that him being immortal was no longer part of his life.

  "I'm free of it, lass," he said, smiling. Her breath hitched at the look on his face, so much happiness, so much anticipation. "You believe me now that I love you so?"

  She chuckled, shaking her head at his teasing. "I think I do, yes."

  He bent down and scooped her up into his arms, walking slowly toward the bed. "While I doona know what the future holds for us, I do know that right now, lass, I need you. I need to love the woman I adore."

  A lump wedged in her throat, and she clasped his face in her hands and brought his lips down for a kiss.

  The embrace, filled with love, and everything that sat between them, joined them like a string that crossed centuries.

  A promise of forever.

  If only Maya could choose him over everything she'd ever known.

  Chapter 28

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Emotions bubbled up inside Maya as Boyd carried her to the bed, laying her down softly on the furs and blankets. Her stomach twisted in delicious knots. Her mind whirring with the thought that he loved her and no one else. That he wanted her in his life, his future, when for so long he'd been stagnant in the past.

  Never before had she ever felt about a man the way she felt about Boyd. She loved him so very much. The idea he was hers was all-encompassing and a little surreal.

  Maya wiggled and slipped off her dress, throwing it aside, and watched with satisfaction as Boyd worked quickly with the strings at the front of his pants before ridding himself of his trews.

  Her core clenched at the vision he made. Maya bit her lip as he pushed the pants down his long, muscular thighs. Still, his manhood remained hidden. Blocked from view due to his tunic hanging low on his hips.

  She smiled and knew it appeared mischievous. "You know, in my time, what you're doing is called stripping."

  He wrenched his tunic over his head, his stomach muscles a beautiful, rippled highway to his jutting cock. So hard and the most perfect penis she'd ever seen.

  He reached for his shaft, stroking himself harder still, and heat pooled at her core. "Men strip for women in your time?" He shook his head, clearly confused. "I doona understand."

  Maya kneeled, walking on her knees over to the side of the bed and reaching for him. She ran her hand along his stomach, paying homage to the perfect V that directed her gaze to his cock. "Women do as well, but yes, men strip for the enjoyment of women. But we're not allowed to touch."

  He frowned, the muscle in his jaw working. "You have been to see men strip?"

  She chuckled at his annoyed tone, loving that this highlander could be jealous over her actions, of things she'd done before she even knew him. "I have. I went with friends when I was in college in England. The men were as toned as you, maybe not as tall or muscular, but certainly very nice to admire." Maya leaned forward, kissing his chest, laving her tongue over his puckered nipple.

  He growled. "You will never look at another man in that way, Maya."

  She smiled against his skin, hearing the warning, the demand in his tone. Her twenty-first sensibilities, her feminism growled in return to his highhandedness, but she let it go. The man she loved was unlike anyone from her time. Things were different here, and although she would never allow anyone to walk all over her, she knew that she would choose Boyd over anyone else.

  He was hers. Her soul mate. Her love. She would allow him this one demand.

  "I don't want to look at anyone else," she whispered, running her hands over his shoulders and marveling at their size. He was so toned, broad, and devastatingly tall. Just being beside him made her feel delicate and ladylike.

  Two things Maya never thought of herself most of the time.

  "Now," she said, twining her hands into his hair. "Make love to me before I die from waiting."

  A wicked light entered his eyes before he pushed her back onto the bed, rending a little squeal of shock from her. He came over her, covering her body with his.

  Maya wrapped herself around him, slipped her legs up about his hips. She couldn't get enough of this man. Knew that she never would. He entered her quickly, a deep, hard thrust that made them both moan.

  "Put your hands above your head," Boyd demanded, pinning them with his when she did. He watched her, his gaze overflowing with adoration, with so much heat that her heart ached.

  They stayed like that, a slow progression toward climax. He teased, filled, and inflamed her. Maya closed her eyes, unable to keep seeing the emotions play over his face. Of how much she would miss him if she chose to leave this time.

  "Look at me, lass," he beseeched.

  After a moment, Maya did as he asked. Her body felt aflame, taut, and aching for release. He fit her so well, pushed her along at a steady pace. She was so close, already sat on a precipice, ready to fall.

  "You are everything to me," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her. Boyd released her hands, and she wrapped them about him as the kiss melded into so much more than anything she'd ever known. It was a promise, a declaration of endearment, honor, and love.

  So much love.

  "I love you too," she gasped as, with one final deep stroke, he thrust into her, launching her over the edge. Maya soared, high and long. Her orgasm ripped through her, running out to every point in her body. She moaned his name, dug her nails into his back as still he refused to increase his pace, rode out her climax with maddening, slow strokes that had brought her to release in the first place.

  Boyd gasped against her mouth, her name a chant as he followed her, spilling himself into her with abandon.

  For a moment, neither of them moved, simply content to lay entwined and joined as they both caught their breath.

  Boyd rolled to the side, bringing her into the crook of his arm. "You need to make a choice, Maya lass."

  She bit her lip, hating that she had to. Stay or leave. Remain part of the sixteenth century or return to the twenty-first. Her hand idly ran over the light coating of hair on his stomach while she thought. What would happen to him should she leave? Would he revert to being immortal again? His heart broken for a second time? Or would he grow old, remain mortal as he was, eliminating her chance of ever seeing him again in the twenty-first century?

  Maya looked up at him and found him watching her. She shook her head, knowing that when it came to Boyd, there was no choice. Never had been if she were honest with herself. Not since the day she fell in love with the highlander.

  "I don't want to return to my time, Boyd. Whether there are rules to time travel or not, I cannot leave. My heart is here. How could I live without my heart if it remained in the sixteenth century?”

  "Och, lass." He pulled her up onto his chest, kissing her hard and long. "This time is not easy. We're to go to war any day now. Are you sure you wish to stay?"

  She would be a liar if she stated that such
a future did not scare her. The idea of clan wars was something one only read in history books. To be living in a time where this was a constant threat… Not to mention the Fae and their dislike of Boyd, or at least the Seelie queen’s dislike also added a fraction of concern.

  With all of this, still, her heart and mind remained steadfast. Her future was in the past, here with Boyd. They would love each other, have a family, be as happy as they could until their time was up.

  "I do." She had never been more certain of a decision in her life. "But on one condition," she said, folding her arms on his chest and watching him.

  "Aye, anything, lass."

  Maya smiled. "I will stay, Boyd Macleod, laird and chief of Clan Macleod if you will do me the honor of marrying me." The shock that rippled over his features was comical, and she chuckled. "What say you? Will you marry me?"

  He flipped her onto her back before she could blink. "I'm supposed to be the one who asks, lass."

  She shrugged. "Well, you are marrying a twenty-first-century woman if you say yes, and we tend to ask for what we want and go after it when it runs away."

  He growled, a rumble deep in his chest that did odd things to her insides. "Aye, lass. I'll marry you so long as you promise me one thing as well."

  "Anything," she said.

  He slipped to the side, his hand sliding down her front, over her chest, before settling on her stomach. "Be the mother of my children. I dinna think I wanted a family, but after a hundred years of living a lonely existence, a life not at all, the idea of you swelling with my babe, well, ’tis a dream I now crave, more than life itself."

  Maya swallowed past the lump in her throat, nodding. "I would love to be the mother of your children if we're fortunate enough to have them." She reached up, pushing his hair out of his face, wanting to see his sweet features. "When can we start?" she teased, pulling him close.

  He grinned, a devilish light entering his eyes. "Now ’tis as good a time as any."

  Boyd took her lips in a searing kiss, thrusting her into a world of passion for the second time in as many minutes. Hours of lovemaking, cherishing, and desire, and perhaps even starting their family this night. Creating a future—the Macleod clan's destiny that still lived on today, in Maya's time.

  Maybe...

  Chapter 29

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Maya stood before the mirror in her room, looking at the dress that Jeane had tweaked and altered for her to wear on her wedding day.

  That today was when she would be handfasted with Boyd was something Maya was still getting her head around. How was it possible that in only the short number of weeks she'd been at Druiminn Castle, excluding the time the Fae Queen had stolen her away, that she'd come to love a man so much?

  The thought of leaving Boyd was an impossibility she could not face. The idea of touching the tapestry made her stomach clench with fear. No, this was the time she should have been born. A time that the man she loved lived, and not five hundred years from now.

  Jeane kneeled and pinned the gown up a little while also adding a pretty edging of lace over the blue-dyed wool twill kirtle. As much as Maya had always thought her wedding gown would be champagne satin, a large wide skirt, and a corset-like princess cut top, the dress she wore today was just as pretty. They lived on the Isle of Skye, hundreds of miles away from any dressmaking shops. No, her gown would do very well. It suited her. So long as she was marrying the man she loved, the day would be perfect.

  "Och, lass, Boyd will not know what to do with himself when he sees you. You're as pretty as a Forget-Me-Not."

  Jeane had amended the gown to make the bodice slip a little lower on her breasts, and with the white lace running around the hem, she couldn't help but agree that perhaps Jeane was correct.

  "I cannot thank you enough for fixing the dress for me. I know it's short notice."

  Jeane waved her concerns away, a needle in hand, as she sewed along her dress hem. "’Tis a pleasure to welcome you into the family. It is time that Boyd married and loved again." Jeane smiled up at her, her eyes bright with approval and hope. "His wife, no matter where she is, has gone on with her life. It is time that Boyd also did. I'm happy for you both. You shall make a good wife for him."

  Maya hoped that was true. She was certainly going to try. "It doesn't concern you that Sorcha is still alive. I suppose our marriage won't be legally binding because of that fact, but..."

  Jeane stood, pulling the gown at her waist and checking the length. "What, lass? But what?"

  Maya shrugged, her stomach in knots over marrying a man who still had a wife. Surely some law came into effect when one was abandoned for so long. Not to mention Boyd was over a hundred years old. Some in England and Scotland probably didn't even think he was alive but merely an ancestor of the first Boyd Macleod.

  "Does that make me a bad person that I will marry Boyd even if he's still married?" she asked her friend. She wasn't a bad person, had never been the sort to be unkind or do things that were against the law. Marrying Boyd when he still had a wife was morally wrong and not binding by law, but after so many years, did that still stand? She doubted it, and even if it did, she knew Sorcha welcomed her being here with Boyd. She had her approval of sorts. That was enough for her.

  "Nay, you love Boyd. How can there be anything wrong with such a thing?" Jeane stepped back, smiling at her in the mirror. "There, lass, the dress is done, and with only hours to spare. Your handfasting to happen tonight when the sun is setting and the moon is rising will be one to remember."

  Maya nodded, unable to stop smiling at the idea of being a wife. Boyd's wife. "Will you help me bathe? With several guards, I'm sure it'll be fine to travel down to the heated pools if you like."

  Jeane cleaned up her sewing, hurrying about the room. "Now, that would be a welcome idea. ’Tis been several days since I bathed, and I know no one at the ceremony tonight wants to be smelling my armpits."

  Maya laughed, untying her gown before stepping out of it. "I'll get dressed, and we'll find some guards to take us down there. I want to be smelling like a flower for my new husband," she said, chuckling at herself. Today was her wedding day! Maya pinched herself to be sure she was awake, and this wasn't merely a dream.

  It was not.

  The wedding took place overlooking the ocean at Druiminn Castle, a magnificent and ancient building rising behind them in the twilight. Candles and sconces burned, lighting the area, and some of the village children had sprinkled wildflowers over the ground, covering the soil as best they could. Tonight there was a full moon, only the slightest sea breeze, the air smelling sweet and salty.

  Maya walked toward Boyd, who stood watching her beside the castle priest. His dark, hooded gaze shone with love and Maya swallowed hard the lump in her throat. She would not cry. Today was a happy day, one to remember forever. Boyd was all that she'd ever wanted and more, and she couldn't help but wonder how it was that he loved her.

  A normal English woman who had no power brought nothing to the marriage, certainly not an allied family to back Macleods in clan wars. No dowry, nothing but herself.

  Boyd took her hands as she came to stand beside him, winking at her before turning to the priest. The clan surrounded them. Jeane joined them, tying a thin piece of plaid around their hands, knotting it tightly.

  The priest went through the words binding them, asking them to repeat the vows when necessary. Maya couldn't understand a lot of it, but she reiterated as best she could, promising herself to Boyd, the Laird Macleod, until death do they part.

  She gasped when the ceremony finished, and Boyd wrenched her into his arms, kissing her soundly. She laughed through the embrace, the catcalls, the laughter and shouts from the clan deafening.

  Thankfully after Boyd had spoken to them about her living there with them all, they had come to trust her, know that she wasn't there to hurt or cause trouble. Merely to live, to help like they all did every day until she could return to her time.

  That no longer w
as an issue. From this day forward, she would be a highlander like her husband, a Scotswoman, and wife above anything else. Maya wrapped her arms around Boyd's neck, pulling him close to kiss him with all that she had. The clan laughed harder, but Maya didn't care. She would kiss this man until her very last breath.

  Just as she was certain, he would as well.

  Titania stood at the Macleod clan's back, watching the laird’s people congratulate the bride and groom on their handfasting. She glanced down at her gown of plain yellow wool, missing her silks and satins while in disguise here.

  The clan pulled the happy couple into the castle, and she followed, a minstrel starting to play a lively tune that soon pulled revelers onto the floor in the Great Hall to dance.

  She watched as Boyd took Maya up to the dais, pulling out her chair and ensuring her comfort with a pillow to sit on and a glass of mead before joining her. He was a fool to have fallen for the woman. It was not because she thought love was a foolish emotion, but merely because Boyd felt so for the woman, gave her power over him. A way to make him do what she willed if it meant that harm would come to those he loved.

  She shook her head, taking a glass of wine from a servant who was unaware of who she was. Stupid, simpleminded people these ancient clansmen and women were. To live each day as a means of survival. To not have the freedom to enjoy the pleasures of life, of what the world held, well, they did not know what they were missing.

  Nor would they ever, born a faery. She had traveled to the future and well into the past. To live such as these people would make her immortal soul wither and die.

  How pitiful these people were.

  She drank down the wine, knowing that in only a few days, Samhain would be upon this clan and others across Scotland. The celebrations would continue, the drinking and feasting. If only they knew that the O’Cains would arrive at the end of harvest.