Highlander's Captive (Highlander Trilogy)

by Donna Fletcher

  She could see he was adamant about it, but she had missed him terribly and wanted an intimate moment with him whatever way she could get it. But how to convince him? The thought came easily and with his back to those left in the Great Hall, she stepped in front of him confident that no one would be able to see what she was about to do. Her one hand quickly slipped under the new plaid, he had just begun wearing, to grab hold of him and she raised her other hand up to her mouth and inserted one finger in it, then eased it out slowly, and then repeated the gesture over and over as she tugged on him, growing him ever harder.

  “Damn it, woman,” he seethed through gritted teeth.

  She let her hand drop away from her mouth and her tongue slipped out to slowly circle her lips as if showing how much she looked forward to tasting him.

  He growled like an angry beast, scooped her up, and took the stone steps two at a time.

  ~~~

  Torr closed the cottage door behind him and held his hand out to Wintra. “Come here.”

  She drifted into his arms with a smile.

  “I want you to know that I will let no one take you from me,” he said with such adamant conviction that it sent a shiver through her and faded her smile.

  “Do you believe someone will try?” she asked, the thought having gone through her mind as well.

  “I have no knowledge that someone will, though it troubles me that Kellmara joins forces with Owen. And Owen seems to believe that he has information that Kellmara wants and I think it concerns you.”

  Wintra shook her head. “What information can Owen possibly have about me? And why would it concern Kellmara?”

  “All good questions which I assume will be answered when Kellmara arrives.” He gave her a kiss, lingering a bit longer than he intended. Now was not the time to think of making love to her, but then there was not a time he did not think of making love to her.

  Being prudent at what would happen if he remained close to her, he eased her away from him. “I need to wash up a bit and change my shirt.”

  Wintra was disappointed that he let her go. She loved being in his arms. They were so warm and comforting. And then there was the scent of him, pungent pine and earth mixed with his own muskiness. It always managed to spark her passion.

  She shook the thoughts away, wishing they could make love, but they did not have enough time. She saw to getting a bucket and scooping up snow, then placed it close to the hearth for the snow to melt fast so that Torr could wash.

  She watched as he stripped off his shirt and tossed it to the table. She took it to hang on the peg and his scents, so potent on it, drifted up to sting her nostrils and invade her senses. She hurried to hang it on the peg and could not stop herself from burying her face in it for a moment and breathing deeply.

  With reluctance, she turned away from it to see Torr staring at her strangely. She said what she felt. “I love the scent of you.”

  He warned himself to stay where he was, to not go any closer to her or he would surely surrender to his growing need and damn if that need wasn’t growing harder by the moment.

  Wintra had much yet to learn about making love and passion and all that went with it, but instinct played a big part in it all and when she caught that hungry look in his eyes, she knew exactly what her husband was thinking.

  She took a step toward him.

  “Don’t,” he warned. “I will not be able to keep my hands off you.”

  She took slow steps toward him. “I don’t want you to.”

  “Wintra, you will obey me on this,” he chided.

  “Do you truly want me to?”

  Two more steps and she would be on top of him and by then it would be too late. But then it was already too late.

  Torr reached out and snatched her hand, yanking her against him. His kiss was hungry, and she fed it. It wasn’t long before he pulled his mouth away, hoisted her up on the table, shoved her dress up, spread her legs and ripped his plaid off to give him room to watch as he plunged in and out of her.

  She braced her hands on the table to balance herself and closed her eyes for a moment, relishing every potent poke. Then she lowered her head curious to see for herself and her eyes widened as she watched the thick size of him slip in and out of her with ease, and she groaned, “I am going to come.”

  “More than once,” he urged and took her even harder.

  She exploded with such a hard climax that she screamed out his name, and it heightened his own passion that was at its peak and about to burst. But he wanted her to come again and so he kept up the maddening tempo, straining to contain himself for just a moment more.

  Wintra thought her heart would burst from her chest as her desire rose once again and when he grabbed hold of her backside and forced her harder against him again and again, she burst in another explosive climax.

  Torr joined her, feeling as if his climax would never end and loving and savoring every minute of it. When he finally stilled, he rested his brow to hers, though did not pull out of her. He was content right where he was and intended to remain there for a bit longer.

  Wintra felt the same, for on a labored breath she said, “Do not pull out of me.”

  “I am staying right where I am.”

  “Good, for that is right where you belong.”

  They stayed that way, not moving an inch. The hearth flames toasted Torr’s bare backside and Wintra’s legs, making them even more content to remain as they were.

  “If there were time, I would take you to our bed and keep you there the rest of the day and night.”

  She smiled. “And I would happily remain there with you.”

  He reluctantly pulled away from her and carefully lowered her dress and lifted her off the table to place her gently on her feet before he turned away from her. “I need to wash and be ready for Kellmara.”

  At that moment she had a profound dislike for the man. Why did he have to arrive at the keep now? And what did he want from her? She tried to tell herself that it did not matter. She was Torr’s wife and nothing could change that. Then why was she so disturbed by his arrival?

  “Do not worry,” Torr said, watching her pace in front of the door. “All will be well.”

  She prayed his words were true.

  The sudden toll of the bell letting everyone know the approaching troop had reached the rise startled them both as did the pounding on the door.

  “Your presence is requested at the keep immediately,” a voice shouted.

  “We will be right there,” Torr called out and turned to Wintra. “Let us go get this over so that we may return here and enjoy the night together.”

  “I will be counting the minutes until we are alone,” she said eagerly and took hold of his hand.

  They left the cottage and she hurried along with Torr into the Great Hall to join her brother and Dawn at the dais to greet the man who had journeyed here in regards to her. Her stomach roiled with worry, and she wished this day was over and that she was in bed with her husband making love. She chased the thought away. She had to keep her mind clear and focused. She had to know what the Earl of Kellmara wanted with her.

  “You are to remain seated until I summon you,” Torr said to Wintra and she scowled. He could not help but grin. “You are almost as good as your brother with that scowl, though if you show it too often you will be cursed with a bevy of wrinkles.”

  She poked him in the ribs, her finger hitting nothing but hard muscle. “Then do not make me scowl.”

  “That’s right, it is your fault my sister scowls. She never scowled before,” Cree said with a levity that few got to see.

  “My brother is right,” Wintra said seeing for the first time in many years the brother who had once teased and made her laugh.

  “Right or not, I am your husband now and you will obey me,” Torr said with a smile, but all who heard knew that it was a reminder that Wintra was his and no one answered for her but him. “Cree and I shall wait in front of the dais to greet the Earl of Kellma
ra.”

  Cree nodded letting Torr know he understood, though his scowl let him know that he was appeasing Torr.

  The doors to the Great Hall swung open and six warriors, thick in size, entered, their swords hanging heavily at their sides. They scanned the room quickly, then one snapped his hand at a warrior standing guard by the door and a moment later a man walked in.

  He was tall with pure white hair that just brushed his shoulders and though age showed on his face, it did so with grace. He was a handsome man with striking blue eyes. His stance was firm and confident, his body more that of a young warrior, muscled and firm, than an aging, seasoned one. And from his intense expression, he was a man who had no intentions of being denied.

  “Thank you for receiving me into your home, Earl of Carrick.”

  “What brings you here, Kellmara?” Cree asked, getting right to the point.

  “I have come to take Wintra—my daughter—home where she belongs.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Wintra was shocked by the Earl of Kellmara’s remark, though was even more shocked by Cree’s reply.

  “So you are the bastard who raped my mother?” Cree said, taking a threatening step toward the man.

  Kellmara warriors advanced on their laird ready to protect him, but Kellmara was quick to stop them with a simple raise of his hand. He then took a step toward Cree and in a clear and firm voice said, “I did not rape Colleen. I loved her.”

  “My mother came home beaten and bruised one day—”

  “I only recently found out about that incident and believe me the man responsible has suffered the consequences. I was sent away by my father and thought to return in a few short days with plans of wedding your mother. It was years before I was allowed to return home and by then,” —he paused a moment—“I discovered Colleen had died. It wasn’t until recently I learned that Colleen had a daughter who would be ten and nine years now. That would make her my daughter and I intend to claim her.”

  “I have no way of knowing if you tell the truth and I will not turn my sister over to you on your word alone,” Cree said.

  Torr stepped forward then. “Wintra is not going anywhere. She is my wife and neither of you have say over her.”

  Wintra listened to the three men argue about her. She wondered for a moment if she was in a nightmare and could not wake, for this surely wasn’t real. Her father had died. Cree would never tell her such a lie. This man was not her father. Cree was not her half-brother. The Earl of Kellmara was a charlatan just as Owen had been.

  “It does not matter,” Torr said. “Father or not, I am her husband and my right comes before all others.”

  “Not unless the King annuls the marriage,” Kellmara said as if it was already done.

  Wintra felt a deep chill run through her and she hugged herself tightly as her worry grew, and rightly so. She had learned even while secluded at the abbey that men had power over women and the more powerful the man, the more power he wielded.

  “I have petitioned the King to annul your marriage to my daughter,” Kellmara said to Torr. “The King has sent an emissary to determine my request and, if he so chooses, the emissary has the authority to grant the annulment posthaste. He will question you both and make the decision over the next few days. Until then, you are ordered by the King to keep your distance from my daughter.”

  Torr laughed in Kellmara’s face. You are a fool if you think that you can keep me from my wife.”

  Kellmara glared at him. “The King orders it.”

  Torr’s arm shot out, his finger poking Kellmara hard in the chest. “I do not give a bloody damn. No one is taking my wife away from me.”

  “Wintra should have never been forced to wed you. She is my daughter and deserves better.”

  Torr clenched his hand into a tight fist, but kept it at his side. “She also deserves a father who cares more about what she wants than what he wants.”

  “What have you promised the King in exchange for a decision in your favor?” Cree asked, stepping between the two men. “Wait, let me answer for you. You are a powerful Chieftain to the far North where the King has fewer allies and with you as one, it will strengthen his reign and borders.”

  “I simply presented my petition to the King, no more. I have no sway over what he thinks. But any resistance to the emissaries decision will be dealt with swiftly,” Kellmara warned.

  “You can count on that,” Cree said.

  “Now I would like to meet my daughter.”

  Wintra stepped around the dais, though kept her distance from all three men. She raised her chin and narrowed her eyes at the Earl of Kellmara. “I am not your daughter. I never have been and I never will be. I love my husband and I intend to stay wed to him. And you will have to lock me away to keep me from him. I would advise you to leave now, for I will never acknowledge you as my father.”

  “You are my daughter for sure, bold and demanding just like me, and your eyes are the same blue as mine. Speak as bravely as you wish, but you will follow the King’s command, you have no choice.”

  “That is where you are wrong. I will not listen to this nonsense and I will not talk with you ever. You are a cold, heartless man to come here and make demands of me, especially if I were your daughter. This is no way for a father to show his love for his daughter. So I tell you one last time—leave, or better yet—go to hell.”

  Wintra walked past Kellmara and one of his warrior’s stepped in front of her, blocking her path. She did not wait. She stomped on his foot as she grabbed his nose, yanked and twisted it. He hopped on one foot while one hand covered his bleeding nose. Then she skidded around him and hurried past the startled warriors and out the door.

  “That’s my wife,” Torr said with pride.

  “And my sister,” Cree beamed.

  “And definitely mine and Colleen’s daughter,” Kellmara said adamantly.

  ~~~

  Dawn hurried out of the Great Hall through the hallway that led out to the kitchen shortly after Wintra left. The men might admire Wintra’s brave tenacity, but Dawn knew just how fragile that tenacity was. She knew that Wintra was now plagued with thoughts and questions, but worst of all she was probably asking herself if it could possibly be true. Was the Earl of Kellmara her father?

  It did not take long to get to the cottage that Cree had once assigned her. She had loved its solitude, and the time she and Cree had gotten to spend there. It was a place of comfort and love and Dawn was pleased that Torr and Wintra were making it their home, if only for a while.

  She knocked on the front door, hunching her shoulder against the wind that had picked up since nightfall.

  “Go away! And do not dare make me repeat myself.”

  Dawn smiled. Wintra definitely was much like her brother. She eased the door open, using it as a shield since she expected something to come flying at her. She poked her hand passed the door and wiggled her fingers in greeting.

  “Dawn?”

  Dawn rushed around the door, shutting it closed and securing the latch, not that it would keep Torr or Cree out, but it would discourage others from entering. She turned and looked at Wintra and wasn’t surprised to see tears ready to spill free. Dawn spread her arms wide.

  Wintra did not hesitate, she ran into them, hugging Dawn tight, grateful she had come and offered comfort.

  When Wintra’s tears subsided, Dawn eased her down on a chair to sit. She then pulled another chair around next to Wintra’s and sat, resting her hand on Wintra’s knee.

  “It is not possible is it?” Wintra asked, knowing the answer, but wanting someone to deny it. “He can’t be my father. He seems a heartless man without true care to how his decisions would affect his daughter.” Wintra ran both hands down her face. “It is a nightmare. I am in a nightmare and I cannot wake up. Wake me up, Dawn. I beg you, wake me up.”

  Dawn did the only thing she could. She squeezed her hand tightly to let her know that this was no dream.

  “Do you think Torr will be kept
from me tonight? I do not want to sleep without him by my side.”

  A tepid knock sounded at the door and both women turned inquisitive eyes that way.

  “Dawn? Wintra? Are you in there?”

  Dawn jumped up, unlatched the door, and opened it, letting Old Mary in.

  The old woman rubbed her gnarled hands and shivered. “The wind has a biting chill to it tonight.”

  Dawn ushered Old Mary over to a chair by the fire, then the two women brought their chairs around by her as well.

  “I had a feeling I was needed here,” Old Mary explained, holding her hands out to the fire’s heat. “What has happened?”

  Wintra explained everything, wiping away a teardrop that fell now and again. “I won’t be kept from Torr,” she insisted stubbornly when she finished.

  “You also do not want to place Torr in a potentially dangerous situation,” Old Mary warned. “One that would see harm come to him.”

  “Never!” Wintra cried, alarmed at the old woman’s words. The situation was growing worse by the minute, and the weight of it had her shoulders sagging and her head drooping.

  Dawn tapped her arm and when Wintra looked up, Dawn shrugged her shoulders and scrunched her brow.

  “What’s wrong?” Wintra verbalized Dawn’s question before answering it. “The Earl of Kellmara is a powerful man. And if the King feels it would benefit having him as an ally, he will grant Kellmara his request.”

  “There is that possibility,” Old Mary said, “though Torr not obeying the King’s command could prove worse.”

  “I know. I thought the same myself when Torr announced that he did not care what the King had commanded. I may have bravely or foolishly announced that I would not be kept from my husband, but the King’s word is final. And if Torr and I do not obey, as the Earl of Kellmara knows we must, we could put not only ourselves in danger, but my brother and all here as well.” With the weight of the situation becoming clearer by the moment, Wintra sighed heavily.

  Dawn gestured and Old Mary quickly interpreted. “You should speak with the Earl of Kellmara.”