by Paula Quinn
He was hard everywhere, and growing harder.
His mouth took hers like a consuming fire, engulfing her in sweet, scintillating pleasure. His large hands slid down her backside and caressed her so intimately that she gasped into his mouth.
She felt her cheeks flush at her inexperience and turned her face away, breaking their kiss and pressing her palms against his chest. “I didn’t mean to…I’m not adept at…” Not knowing what else to say without sounding like a fool, she smiled.
“Fergive me, love,” he whispered, bending his lips to her neck. “But now that I know, it makes ye all the more beautiful.” He kissed her throat, her chin, her smiling mouth.
Locked in passion’s maddening embrace, they didn’t take notice of Goliath leaping up and taking off toward a small mountain pass opposite the crest.
Only when the dog began to bark did Adam break free and look toward the sound.
A large carved wooden carriage, pulled by two horses and driven by a Highlander carrying a flag of scarlet and black, rolled toward the castle. A single rider cantering beside the carriage had veered off when he saw them.
“Leave it to him,” Adam said, smiling while he watched the man come closer, “to make Patrick drive the carriage while he protected them. He’s really quite arrogant.”
Sina backed away as a horn sounded from the castle. No! The man riding toward her couldn’t be Callum MacGregor, his wife, Kate, most likely in the carriage.
Not now! They couldn’t have returned on the day she was barefoot and tangled up in their grandson’s arms in the middle of the heather.
Adam called something out to Callum and took her hand to pull her along. Her legs didn’t want to go. She patted her hair and almost turned and ran the other way when heather blossoms fell out.
“Welcome home, Grandfather,” Adam greeted as he neared. “We werena expectin’ ye fer another month or two.”
“Yer grandmother didna want to travel in the cooler months.”
If Camlochlin were a kingdom, then this was its king. He still had the look of a warrior in his long, belted plaid, kidskin boots, and a long claymore strapped to his back. He looked down at her from his mount. Sina thought she should bow.
His face was weathered with age, but his rich blue-green eyes still held within them power and authority. He was beautiful, likely even more handsome than Adam when he was a young man. He sat tall in his saddle. His shoulders were once strong enough to carry his sister out of a massacre.
“Grandfaither,” Adam said, breaking Sina’s reverence, “let me present my wife, Sina.”
His grandfather narrowed his eyes and dismounted. “Did ye say yer wife?”
“Aye.” Adam smiled. “’Twill all be explained to ye later.”
The chief lowered his gaze to their entwined hands, then lifted it back to her.
Sina was glad Adam hadn’t let her go.
“Welcome to Camlochlin, granddaughter.”
She curtsied and released a long, relieved breath. “Thank you, Laird.”
He turned his cerulean gaze back to his grandson. “Is it well with the clan?”
“Aye,” Adam assured as they began to walk back. “Amelia gave Edmund a daughter yesterday. She is called Laurel MacGregor. We celebrated long into the night, and I’m afraid everyone is likely sleeping.”
“Another MacGregor,” his grandfather remarked, “’tis a good reason to celebrate.” He slowed his pace, leading his horse by the bridle. “Since they’re most likely going to want to continue sleeping, I wish to hear from my new granddaughter how she finally captured yer heart.”
But she hadn’t captured it. Not yet. “I am the daughter of George, the prince elector of Hanover.” She paused while he shared a brief look with Adam. “I arrived from Kensington Palace with a letter from the queen. She ordered that your grandson and I be wed.”
“And ye both agreed to it?” He cast Adam a doubtful look.
“I did,” Adam replied, surprising him.
“I did not,” Sina said, pulling his attention back to her. “But your grandson is working at changing my mind—for the good of the clan.”
Chapter Eighteen
Adam watched Sina flit around their bedchamber, rifling through her clothes to find the right thing to wear.
“What’s wrong with what ye’re already wearin’?”
She turned to aim a surprised look at him. “I slept in this gown and then rolled around in the heather with Goliath in it!”
He raised his brows and turned a stunned expression to his resting dog. “Ye did?”
“I need pins for my hair! Where are my pins?”
“Lass”—he rose from his chair and went to her to stop her from moving—“no one cares what ye’re wearin’. Why d’ye fret so over it?”
She shook her head at him. “You don’t understand. I have made a terrible first impression on everyone. Everyone.” She bit her plump lips, drawing his gaze there. “And now your grandparents too.”
He closed his arms around her. “Ye worry over nothin’. My grandfaither doesna care if we were kissin’ on the hill. He—”
She broke free and heaved him out of the way. “You are no help.”
He laughed and threw up his hands. “What would ye have me do?”
“Leave.”
“Verra well, but if the night goes long again,” he said over his shoulder as he left the room, “I’ll meet ye in the heather at sunrise.”
He smiled at the sound of her laughter following him out. It pleased him that she cared about the impression she made on his kin. Though she seemed to care too much what others thought. “Palace life,” he muttered under his breath. Polite society. From what she had described to him so far, it sounded nightmarish. She should be rejoicing at being away from it.
Instead, her heart was troubled.
She’d called him jealous, but was it so wrong not to want his wife pining over another man?
He tried to convince her that he couldn’t love her while she loved William, but she looked deeper, listened to more than just his words, and knew he was lying. He’d come to know her, and he wanted to know more.
He smiled, remembering her telling his grandfather that he was changing her mind about marrying him “for the good of the clan.”
She wanted him to tell her that he loved her. What was the sense in waiting? It seemed he loved her whether she loved William or not.
Damn it.
He heard the laughter coming from the solar, where his kin were gathering to welcome his grandparents home. Tonight would be just for Callum and Kate’s children and grandchildren. Tomorrow night, if his mother had anything to do with it, they’d have another celebration in the great hall with everyone.
Adam smiled, glad that his grandparents were home, then turned the other way, hurried down the stairs, and left the castle.
Sina watched Adam move through the solar, quiet in the midst of the revelry. He reminded her of a lone wolf on the prowl for a mate or food. Or her. His pewter-blue eyes found her in the crowd. He made her blood go warm. He made her forget propriety and run into his arms.
He was late in arriving. She’d been here for at least an hour with no sign of him until now.
She sat with Davina and Maggie and some of the other ladies, save for Abby, who sat with the laird, around the hearth. They all listened while Kate MacGregor told them about helping bring her great-grandson Cameron, Patrick and Charlie’s second bairn, into the world.
Sina thought the laird’s wife was just as lovely as she must have been the day she slew her Highlander’s heart. What must it have been like for her to be kidnapped and brought here with no one but her enemies? What did she see in the Devil that made her fight for him and win?
She turned back to Adam, but lost him in the crowd.
She’d been hard on him earlier, impatient while she was running to live according to the standards of a different place…another world, when Adam had been correct after all. No one cared. Everyone was too busy laughing and dri
nking to worry over what anyone else was wearing.
Still, Sina was glad she’d chosen the sapphire-blue gown Maggie had made for Davina years ago. Sina loved the snug fit and the feel of the soft wool against her flesh, the thin silver embroidery at the neckline and cuffs; and, she had to admit, she loved that Davina and Maggie both noticed it and were pleased.
There was a bit of a commotion, and Sina turned to see Edmund carrying Laurel to his grandfather, who was already covered in children.
With a cup in one hand and the babe tucked into the crook of his other elbow, the laird stood. In the process, he lost some of the other children, save for three who clung to his shoulders, laughing while everyone else grew quiet.
Abby pulled them away and hushed them while she sat them in their seats.
When the solar was quiet, he began. “I remember the night Brodie and Nessa had their son, Will. He was the first MacGregor born in Camlochlin. Remember that night, Katie, my love?”
“Aye, Callum, I remember it well,” his wife answered warmly.
“I could never have imagined that night how many sons and daughters would come after him,” the laird continued. “Those who built Camlochlin are truly blessed to see what it has become. May God bless Laurel and the babes before her and the ones after, and may the name MacGregor flourish forever!”
Everyone cheered. Laurel cried, and Adam leaned over Sina’s chair and whispered in her ear, “Ye are a goddess among queens.”
Inclining her cheek to his breath, she curled her lips into a smile. Having him here, close, completed the second best day of her life. He smelled like heather. “Where have you been, rake?” she whispered back while the laird took up speaking again.
“I also lift my cup to my grandson Adam. I’m verra proud of what ye’ve done, but after spendin’ time with yer bride, I realize ’twas no sacrifice at all.”
“Nae, ’twasn’t,” Adam agreed behind her. She turned and laughed softly, knowing how difficult it had been for him. Her laughter faded when she thought about how patient he had been in their bed. She would make it up to him. She would be his wife and worry about William later.
“Sina,” the laird said with a smile, fixing his warm gaze on her, “I welcome ye to the clan. Ye are kin now. I pray ye’ll make Adam a proud faither soon enough.”
Sina felt her face go hot, but when everyone cheered and demanded Adam kiss her, she let him lead her around her chair and into his arms.
His kiss was brief, though tender and intimate. When he withdrew, he pressed his forehead against hers and whispered so that only she could hear, “We begin tonight, aye?”
“Aye,” she promised, wanting more of him. Wanting all of him.
She stepped back, but he held her close to his side.
“Adam,” his grandfather continued as the crowd grew silent again. “I’ve spoken with yer faither and with Abigail, as well. This is no discredit to her, for I think had she been unmarried and in yer position, she would have done the same. She has already proven she would do whatever was needed fer the clan when she went to England in yer mother’s stead.”
Sina stopped breathing for a moment. What did she just hear? Abby had gone to England…and in Davina’s stead? Why? To see whom, the queen? Why hadn’t Adam told her?
She turned to him, but he was staring at his grandfather and looking rather ill.
“…and yer faither and sister agree,” the laird continued. “Ye are firstborn. The title of chief is yers unless ye refuse it.”
He looked as if he might refuse it. It was what he’d expected, and what he’d run from his whole life.
“Grandfaither, I—”
“Chief!” one of Camlochlin’s guardsmen called out from the entrance, bringing everyone’s eyes to him. “I just intercepted a messenger. He carried this and requested it be delivered to ye.”
Rob MacGregor went to him and took the sealed letter from his outstretched hand. “Thank ye, Hamish.”
“’Tis from London,” Rob said and shot his gaze to his wife and then to Adam and Sina.
Sina’s heart battered wildly in her chest. A letter from London? The queen? Had she changed her mind?
“Something urgent, my love?” Davina came up beside him when his expression turned dark as he read.
“’Tis the queen,” he said. His voice was quiet as he set his somber gaze on her. “She is dead and has been buried.”
His arm was quick to catch his wife when her legs grew too weak to stand.
Sina closed her eyes to stop her tears. Anne was gone. She knew the queen was very ill. She’d even considered that her hell here might end when her father took the throne. But Camlochlin wasn’t hell, and the queen was her friend.
“There’s more.” The chief’s heavy voice broke through her guilty thoughts. “George of Hanover has been declared king and has ordered the immediate return of his daughter. His carriage was dispatched at the penning of this letter five days ago. They could be here as soon as tomorrow.”
Chapter Nineteen
We’re all fond of the lass,” someone close by said, “but surely she doesna want us to go to war over her!”
“Aye,” another voice to her left said softly. “It has only been six or seven days since they met. I’m no’ sure they even like each other.”
Sina felt as if someone shot her in the chest with a pistol as she listened to the conversations around her. They thought she didn’t like him. She’d given them no reason to believe otherwise.
“Nae,” another voice disagreed. “When they visited us, they appeared quite taken with each other.”
She tried to be strong as she stood there, feeling more alone than she ever had in her life. She’d never gotten along with her uncle and aunt. She loved Anne and now she was gone. She never had anything close to a real family. But for the past few days, she felt as if she were part of something she’d wanted her whole life. And it was being taken away.
She was going home. It was what she had been praying for, to have her old life back. She was going back to her favorite streets and shops in London, to her friends. She was going back to William, her marriage to Adam annulled.
As if it had never taken place.
But it had—and she had a sense from somewhere deep that nothing in her life would ever be the same.
Where was he? After the message was read, Adam had argued with his grandfather for a few moments and then read the letter again. After that, he left the solar and still hadn’t returned.
She didn’t consider that Adam or anyone here would defy the king. To a proscribed clan it could mean their end. But would he just send her off without a fight? Is that what she wanted?
She hadn’t been sure her father would save her. She should be rejoicing that he truly cared for her, that he wanted her back, but she felt too heavy to leap with joy.
Sensing Adam, she turned to the doorway to find him returning with General Marlow. They appeared equally solemn as they entered. The general and Anne had been the closest of friends. The sorrow in his eyes revealed his love for her.
Adam’s eyes revealed something altogether different. They glinted in the firelight like lightning flashing through a stormy sky. The usual hint of a smirk was gone from his lips. Was he troubled about her leaving? Angry? Had he hoped she’d changed her mind about wanting to leave? Dear God, she had. She didn’t want to go.
“This must be good news fer ye.”
Sina choked on her tears and turned to Abby, stepping toward her.
“Going home, I mean,” Adam’s sister clarified with a tender smile—much like her mother’s. “No’ about the queen being dead. We are all sorry over that.”
Yes, especially Adam’s mother, who left immediately after the reading of the letter, held close and led away by her husband.
“To be perfectly truthful,” Sina told her with as much of a smile as she could muster, “I…I thought I would be happier.” She wouldn’t weep. Not again. Not in front of a woman these men had considered to be the
ir next chief. “Your fam—kin have been so kind and welcoming, so unlike the people at home. Camlochlin is a truly remarkable place.” Her eyes misted over and she bit her lip. “I will think of it often and with fondness.”
“And my brother?” Abby asked her candidly. “Will ye think of him the same way?”
“The same way as what?”
Both women turned at the sound of Adam’s voice to find him standing close by, his gaze cast in shadows of uncertainty.
“As I will fondly remember Camlochlin,” Sina told him without looking up. She knew what he had to do. Send her back. Avoid a war.
“Ye’re eager to go, then.”
“It has already been decided. Has it not?” She looked up at him, hoping, praying…What? That he would defy them all and refuse the king?
“’Tis no one’s decision but ours,” Adam told her. His expression went from uncertain to cool and aloof so quickly that Sina wasn’t sure which was real. It was as if a mask had just fallen from his face. “Neither one of us wanted this. Now that there’s a way oot, let’s take it, aye?”
Sina nodded, aware of Abby stepping away.
Sina knew that if she blinked, her tears would fall. She worried about them stopping. He was correct. Neither one of them had wanted this. But that was before she was willing to give up everything for him.
He spared her his most radiant smile, filled with whimsy and charm…and the cool undercurrents of a heart that wasn’t touched by her at all.
“We dinna need to pretend anymore.”
“Good,” she said, trying to sound as detached as he. The truth was, she felt as if her skin were shattering, falling away to expose something raw. He should have been the darkest part of this journey—but he was the light. She’d allowed herself to fall in love with him. She thought him kind and thoughtful and romantic until the moment he could toss her back like an unwanted fish. “Now you will have what you wanted.”
His eyes pierced through hers, unsettling her deep within. She clung to her good sense. He’d admitted to never falling in love before. Why should she have been any different?
