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Highlander's Haunted Past (Highlander's Seductive Lasses Book 1)

Page 22

by Adamina Young


  He leaned over and stole one soft kiss, whispering, “Get better, lass. I miss ye.”

  She may not be willing to say it, but he had no such resistance. He did miss her; he missed her more now that she was so close than he had when they were on the road fighting back Gordon rebels. He would have rather gone back to the first week of their marriage, to their nightly cessation in their shared tent, than be in a room next door, unable to do anything but wonder at how she was.

  Kenna stirred in the quilts and Rob rose, slipping from the room before she could wake and find him there.

  Rob slept restlessly that night, tossing and turning and dreaming of the archer. Rob was chasing him, as he had in that forest weeks ago, but this time he couldn’t keep pace at all. He kept falling further and further behind until, just as he had in reality, he had lost him.

  The dream was shattered by the loud thud of a door being thrown open.

  “Rise and shine, lad, there is no time fer a bit of hard work like the present!” Laird Lovat looked far too energetic for the hour.

  Rob groaned into his pillow.“Ye’re trying to kill me.”

  “If ye need a break, I am sure I could find some light and menial tasks fer ye. Murtagh and Jacob are going to fetch all that firewood ye could not haul back on yer own. I am sure that one of them would be willing to trade jobs with ye, so they could go hunting.”

  Rob paused. “Hunting?”

  “Aye,” his father confirmed, sitting on the edge of the bed and crossing his arms in assured victory. “We need more meat to keep us from touching our stores.”

  Rob grunted and sat up, “Ach, fine, twist my arm why don’t ye. But I have one condition: when these snows finally come, ye’ll let me sleep in peace.”

  Laird Lovat smirked. “Done. Now get dressed and get down to the hall for a quick breakfast. Yer brother will be waiting fer ye.”

  As his father left, Rob grimaced. Maybe ‘tis best to go to the mill after all…

  In the end, Rob decided that it would be unlikely for Hugh to still be acting so surly. However, just one hour into the hunt, Rob was dreaming of the little forest clearing and the endless beat of an ax against wood.

  Hugh wasn’t particularly angry that day, for at least that emotion seemed to have passed, but there was a deep melancholy that had settled into his features, making him look gaunt and pallid. When Rob made early attempts to coax out a conversation, Hugh would simply grunt or shrug, refusing to meet Rob’s eye.

  Hunting had always been a place where the brothers could rely on each other, to know the moves of the other before they made them, trained by years and years of experience. Those years had all been for naught. Today, Hugh had walked around the forest with the clumsiness of one who had never hunted before. When following deer tracks, he became distracted by other tracks that crossed their path. When setting rabbit traps, his fingers were clumsy with the knots. When Rob held up his hand, thinking there was a deer in the clearing ahead, Hugh had just keep trudging forward, scaring off the small herd.

  Rob was worried about him, but he did not know what to do about it. Somehow, Ellen was rooted at the center of it all. Florence would have to try and coax the answers from her. Perhaps she’d had another miscarriage. Maybe Hugh had promised her a babe before year’s end, and he was now thinking of stealing one away. Or maybe he had promised her wealth beyond compare and had placed poor bets that he now would be struggling to pay.

  Stop thinking about it, Rob told himself, clutching his head.

  As the day had dragged on, his ideas had become more and more outlandish. At one point, he had even considered the possibility that he had promised Ellen a separation because she wanted to run off with Murtagh. But who would want to run off with Murtagh?

  Rob stopped outside of his chamber door and sighed. His shirt was covered with blood and grime. He needed something clean to sleep in, but he did not want to wake Kenna. Florence had warned him when he arrived home that the healer had not shared any details of Kenna’s illness, but had simply said that she needed at least one more night of rest.

  As much as he did not want to wake her, he would have to take the chance.

  But when Rob opened the door, he found the room bright with a freshly stoked fire. Kenna was sitting in a chair placed just in front of it, her eyes focused down in her lap, where she stabbed a needle through a bit of white cloth, cursed, and undid the stitch. Her face was still a little pale, but she seemed otherwise all right.

  He let the door fall shut behind him, the latch clanging softly as it closed. Kenna nearly jumped from the seat and looked up at him in surprise.

  “Look who has finally decided to come home,” she said icily, though her tone was betrayed by a twinkling in her blue eyes.

  “Aye. Ye have Laird Lovat to blame fer that. I’m just grateful to be allowed across the castle threshold at all.”

  Rob crossed the room and kissed her gently on the forehead before sitting himself right in front of her chair, leaning against her and settling his head in her lap as he tried to slow the thrumming of his blood that was all headed south at the mere feeling of being close to her.

  “At least things are almost done. It seems like ‘tis going to start snowing any day now,” she said, reaching out to run her fingers through his hair.

  “We can only hope. I’m a bit surprised that ye are still awake. Does that mean ye are feeling well again, lass?”

  “A little, and yet not at all. ‘Tis not an illness I’ll recover from so quickly.”

  Rob’s head shot up and looked her over. Unlike the last time he had seen her, she did not look feverish, and her eyes were bright. She certainly did not look unwell.

  “What is it? The same disease yer sister has?”

  “No, or, at least, she had better not have this particular illness right now.”

  “Then what the devil is it?” he pressed, the thrum of his heart quickening.

  She was smiling at him, the foolish wench. She was enjoying the panic that she was drawing from him.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  Rob felt his jaw drop. The blood fell from his head, and he suddenly felt as if he was going to faint. Was he going to faint? Was he suddenly rendered so spineless?

  “Christ, Rob, do not fall over and hurt yerself,” Kenna admonished, grabbing him by the shoulders to keep him from falling backward.

  “But we have barely—I mean, I didn’t even finish that time—”

  “Well, Highlander, it would seem that one time was all ye needed.”

  16

  A log in the fireplace shifted, sending a scattering of sparks through the air. Kenna glanced over at the flames, the only thing in this room that did not seem to be frozen in time.

  Rob still knelt in front of her, his cheeks rosy while his hands rested against her stomach. His eyes were wide and full of curiosity as he stared straight ahead. As if he was trying to look inside of her and see the babe there for himself. Kenna resisted the urge to laugh.

  “And ye’re sure?” he finally asked, breaking his gaze at her stomach to look up at her.

  “Aye. The healer seemed confident.”

  Kenna watched as a hint of a smile shattered the perfectly round ‘O’ of his mouth. His hands moved across her stomach and sides while his eyes wandered back down her body.

  “Ye do seem to be a bit plumper than ye were before.”

  Kenna’s foot moved of its own accord, thrashing out and shoving Rob back so that he tipped over and collapsed on the rug spread across the floor. He was laughing before he even hit the ground, and Kenna couldn’t help but join him.

  “‘Twas an awfully rude thing to say.”

  “Well, lass, ‘tis my duty as a husband to be honest with ye.” Rob reached up and took her by the wrists, pulling her from the chair so that she landed on top of him. “Don’t ye worry, lass. I already told ye once that I’ll care fer ye no matter yer looks.”

  “Thank ye,” she retorted, resting her chin against his chest so that she
could stare at his face, catching the moments where his emotions flipped from joy to wonder to fear and back again.

  “One time? That was really all I needed?”

  “Aye and thank the Lord fer it. If I am lucky, it will be a son, and my duties as a wife will be complete. I’ll never need to even see ye again,” she teased.

  “Oh?” Rob’s face darkened, a dangerous smile spreading across his lips.

  Kenna shivered, feeling a rush of heat coursing through her, making her heart race. When Rob moved, he did it so quickly and suddenly that Kenna hardly comprehended that she was now on her back, staring up at Rob as his eyes roved across her.

  “Now that ‘tis no longer a duty, lass, I guess it will only have to be fer pleasure,” he said, lowering his mouth to suck gently on her neck.

  Kenna felt the space between her thighs begin to throb with longing. Her need for him had been there for weeks, resting just beneath her surface and waiting for the sure promise of release. She wanted to grab him, entangling her fingers in his hair so she could bring him even closer to her, but something inside of her was still resisting. She didn’t want to give up her sanity so soon.

  She was not sure what possessed her to reach up and put her hand on his chest, pushing him up so that his lips pulled away from her, but her entire body screamed at the distance.

  “Pleasure? What makes ye so sure that is how I feel?” she asked.

  Rob smirked, and his fingers slipped down and beneath her skirts. “Is that not what is making ye so wet down here?”

  Kenna gasped as he touched her, her body ready and waiting for more. But then, just as fast as he had come, he was gone. She looked up at him, at that devilish lopsided smirk he was now giving her.

  “Well? Shall it be duty only or pleasure from now on?”

  “Arrogant bastard,” she replied, reaching up to wrap her arms around him.

  “Stubborn lass,” he said just before he closed the distance between them.

  His tongue interwove with hers, pulling a soft moan from her as his hands slipped from beneath her skirt and made their way to the bright red ribbon that was holding the robe around her. He gave it a gentle tug and opened the robe, letting the soft green fabric fall to her sides.

  His breath hitched, and he swore as he took in the sight of her, his confident face faltering just a bit as a shiver ran through him.

  She had, despite how it ferociously it had made her blush, dressed in the scandalous nightgown that Florence had ordered for her. The fabric was nearly all a soft and thin lace, meaning that nearly nothing of her was truly concealed. The neckline dipped low, so low that you could see the darkness of her nipples just barely peeking out.

  While he stared, Kenna smiled, enjoying this moment of power she was holding over him.

  “Ye should even the score a bit,” Kenna said, reaching out to tug at the hem of his shirt.

  He sat up onto his knees, allowing Kenna to slowly run her hands up along his chest, taking the shirt away with her until, at last, she pulled it off of him and threw it across the room. Her hands went to his chest, running here and there as she so wished. His chest reminded her of the Highlands, full of hills and valleys and hard edges. He flushed at her touch, and she felt the heat under his kilt building.

  Her hand dropped to the hem of his kilt and slipped beneath. Wasn’t this always what he was doing to her? Taunting and teasing her at the place where she was most vulnerable? Her hand slipped up his thigh until she felt a hardness brush along her arm. Her hand caught it in a tight squeeze, and Rob groaned, his head rolling back. Now his hand was there, overtop of hers, guiding her up and down the shaft in the same rhythm and pace that he had once thrust into her.

  Then his other hand was on her, running itself along the neckline of the nightgown before giving it a sharp tug down, freeing both of her breasts. He fondled one, twisting her gently beneath his fingers. Kenna moaned, and she felt her hand twist ever so slightly around him as her entire body shuddered.

  Rob moaned and pulled her hand away, chuckling. “Woman, ye’re going to end me before we even get started if ye keep that up.”

  Kenna flushed as she tried to quickly dissect the meaning, but her thoughts were scrambled by the heat of his mouth, which was leaving a trail of hot kisses and soft bites over the thin fabric of her nightgown. He moved down her stomach and then lower, until he, at last, was between her legs, ducking his head beneath the skirt. His tongue set her entire body ablaze, and she squirmed beneath him, her hips bucking to try and drive him deeper.

  “Rob, please, I want ye now,” she cried out, no longer caring if she was in control of herself or not.

  She heard the soft tinkle of his belt coming undone and then the soft flutter of tartan being pulled away. Rob’s mouth suddenly left her, and he sat up before reaching down to grab her around the waist, lifting her up and pulling her onto his lap.

  “Enough of this.” Rob hissed, grabbing the nightgown and pulling it up and over her head before burying his face in her chest.

  One hand circled and pinched one of her nipples while the other was occupied by his mouth. Kenna gasped and moaned, rocking her hips against him so that she could feel his hardness at her entrance, so close to where she wanted it to be. Rob groaned, sending small vibrations through her breast that she could not help but appreciate.

  “Hold on to me, Kenna,” Rob said, his voice deep and husky.

  She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, embracing him as he lifted her hips again and then lowered her over him. Then with one quick pull and a matching thrust of his hips, he filled her up to his hilt. Kenna cried out, her entire body trembling as it finally found the release it had been craving. She came undone around him, relying on his strong arms to keep her steady.

  “Aye, Kenna.” He kissed her neck and collarbone while his fingers kneaded the sensitive flesh around her waist. “Let it all go. ‘Tis only the first.”

  The first? Kenna thought, unable to voice anything aloud as she panted, trying to regain some sense of herself as the last of her trembling finally subsided.

  Rob’s grip on her hips tightened again, and he lifted her a bit, sliding her up along his manhood before slowly lowering her back again. ‘Tis just like in the stables, Kenna understood, with this tormenting slow pace to start before he built up to something faster. At the time, it had been what she needed, and she had relished the sensations of him slowly moving in and out of her. But now, as she felt her insides slowly beginning to boil once more, she didn’t want to wait.

  And she didn’t have to.

  She gripped his shoulders and began to move on her own, raising herself up and down, first to match Rob’s rhythm, but then moving faster, her hips escaping his grasp, leaving his hands free to roam her.

  “Oh, Kenna, don’t stop,” he moaned as his lips reached up to find her neck.

  She was moving so fast now, slamming into him again and again while he continued to touch and play with her, sinking his lips against hers and forcing his tongue inside. Kenna could feel the boiling inside of her growing more and more intense, a rolling heat that was overpowering everything else. Rob must have known she was close, for one of his hands dropped between her thighs, slipping between her folds to touch her while she rode him.

  “Rob…” She sighed as the exquisite sensation strengthened the feeling of each movement.

  “Aye, Kenna, aye, I love ye, I’m with ye.”

  It did not take long after that. Her entire body began to shudder and tremble until at last something just snapped inside of her, pulling her apart around him just as his own surge shot into her. She collapsed, landing against his firm chest, where he grabbed her and held her close, each of them panting heavily.

  Before she had a chance to unscramble all of the thoughts in her head, Rob was somehow lifting her, carrying her across the room and settling her on the bed. He lay beside her, pulling her up against him. Kenna moved to him willingly, nestling her head in the crook of his shoulder.

&nb
sp; It was as if her mind was in a fog, a pleasant sort of a fog that had sunbeams bursting through, giving a few brief glimpses of pleasant clarity. Kenna breathed a little sigh of relief. Part of her had thought that day in the stable would prove to be a rarity, a way for her to see what all the fuss was about. But what had just happened had been something entirely different, less driven by the need for quick release and more to fulfill a deep desire, and to fulfill the desires of the other. It had been—

  Kenna sat up with a start as the memory overwhelmed her and what it meant.

  “Rob, did ye say that ye loved me?”

  17

  Rob felt the flush from the very top of his head to the tips of his toes. Kenna was looking down at him, her eyes wide and strangely unreadable.

  He hadn’t meant to say it. He hadn’t even fully understood that it was something he felt for her until it had slipped from his mouth. Part of him wanted to deny it, to push her away from him with a coy laugh and a joke. But then she would believe it to be a joke, and then she would never hear it as the truth when he said it again. And he planned on saying it again.

  “Aye, lass.” He sighed. “I love ye.”

  Kenna seemed almost more surprised now. “Since when?”

  “Dunno.” Rob laughed, thinking it over for himself. “I guess ‘twas the first time I saw ye. I dinna know it then though.”

  “All the way back then? Ach, what a fool ye were.”

  Rob laughed again; he couldn’t say that she was wrong. Kenna had come into his life with a force that he had never thought a woman was capable of. She had intoxicated him with only a glance and then rattled him with every word. It had been torture to be near her, and torture to be away from her. How he could have gone through all of that and still come out loving her, he would never understand.

 

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