Highland Heartbreakers: Highlander Series Starters, Volume One

by Paula Quinn

He sighed. “If ye must know, they were intended for Layla, my favorite concubine.”

  Keely pushed her chair back from the table, intending to leave the great hall.

  Alex wouldna let her, he gripped her upper arm and shook his head. “Ye willna leave the celebration. In the future, think before ye ask such questions.”

  “I had my suspicions about it already. I am sure my dress was a gift for another woman. Perhaps ye could still send it to her.” She’d meant as a way to lighten the mood but it had come out sounding more severe.

  Alex grimaced. “I doona want to hear another word on the matter.”

  “Will ye keep the women, then?”

  “Do ye wish me to bring them here?”

  His arrogance made her angry. Would she ever be enough to satisfy him? She knew little about the art of lovemaking. His eyes flickered with amusement, but she dinna find it entertaining at all. “Send for yer women,” she said boldly. “As long as ye doona prevent Struan Sutherland from joining us, too.”

  The menacing look on Alex’s face told her she’d given him a taste of the humiliation she’d felt. How else would he learn to respect her feelings?

  “What did ye say?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  “If ye intend to bring yer concubines here, it would only be right if I were allowed to have a lover, too.”

  He tugged her close. “What are ye saying, lass? Ye’ve had relations with Struan?”

  “What do ye mean by relations?”

  “Would ye like me clear the high table of all its succor, spread ye out, and show ye what I mean?”

  One thing became abundantly clear, her husband cared. How much, she dinna know. But his possessiveness meant there was hope for their marriage. “If ye wish, my laird.”

  He loosened his grip on her wrist, then gulped down a generous amount of wine. “Ye need to watch yer tongue, lass. If I…”

  “Laird and Lady MacKay…”

  Alex growled at the interruption as Petro bowed.

  “In the eastern lands we offer gifts to the bride,” the scholar said.

  Keely leaned close to Alex and whispered, “I wonder who these treasures are really meant for.”

  Alex snorted. “Be quiet, my sweet.”

  She smiled at Petro.

  “Who offers these gifts?” Alex asked.

  “Let me be the first to congratulate your beautiful bride—and to wish the both of you every happiness.” Petro climbed the dais stairs, leaving a bolt of scarlet colored silk on the table in front of Keely. “To match the color of the stones you wear.”

  Keely had never seen such fine material. Her fingers glided over smooth cloth. “Thank ye,” she said.

  “Did Laird Alexander tell you what the color red represents in the east, Lady Keely?”

  “Nay,” she answered.

  “Vigor and virility,” he informed her. “It’s also believed to increase a man’s appetite.”

  The people nearby chuckled, and she could only guess what they were thinking—perhaps the same as her. Petro wasn’t referring to the kind of appetite that made a man eat more bread; he clearly meant sex.

  “Ye are very kind,” she said.

  “If I may,” he continued, “there are several admirers who wish to thank you for inviting them to your wedding.”

  A man with skin the color of the earth stepped forward. He wore a loose-fitting tunic, leather braes, and boots. His hair and eyes were even darker than Petro’s. A curved sword like Alex’s and several knives were secured on his weapon belt.

  “May I present, Cyrus Bin Kalil and his brothers, Kuresh and Nasim—all sons of Kalil, a lord of Constantinople.”

  The handsome men bowed, and Cyrus joined Petro on the dais, offering her a blue stone. “Sapphire, the color of your eyes,” he said in perfect Gaelic with a strange accent. “I wish you joy and many sons.”

  Kuresh followed, presenting her with an emerald, and then Nasim, who offered her a bag filled with gold coins.

  Careful to appreciate each gift, she dinna know how to thank them. “I am humbled—truly grateful. How can I…”

  Alex stood. “What my wife wishes to say, is she would be honored to dance with ye.” He waved his hand at the musicians. “Play—I want to hear music and see everyone dancing.”

  “Alex … I…”

  “Ye will entertain these men, Keely. And when ye finish, I will have my dance.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Do ye still deny your feelings for the girl, Alex?” Petro asked.

  Alex had removed himself from the high table and chosen a spot near the main hearth. Though he enjoyed talking with his friend, he was only half listening. His beautiful bride commanded most of his attention as she danced with the brothers from Constantinople.

  Petro’s question grated on his nerves like stone on metal. “I have feelings.” He’d told the scholar that many times already.

  “Why not share those feelings with her? It will help.”

  “Help what?”

  “Settle things between you. I saw you arguing with her, Alex.”

  “Ye’re a nosey bastard, Petro.”

  “And you’re drunk, Alex.”

  “I’m many things this night,” Alex said. As for being drunk, the ale helped calm him. After nearly killing Levi with his bare hands, he couldna possibly take Keely upstairs and be gentle. Nay, he needed time to recover from the violence. And a blasted bath. He’d washed his face at the high table, but the stench of blood had stayed on his clothes.

  “Have I ever failed you?” Petro asked.

  “Why do ye ask? Ye’re like a woman who constantly needs reassurance about her place in my heart. Shall I speak of my love for ye?” Alex leaned over like he wanted to kiss his friend.

  “Christ.” Petro pushed him away. “I am not jesting. Whenever I offer guidance about Keely, you wave me aside as if my words do not matter.”

  “I’ve spent five years planning it, and never believed it would actually happen.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of, Alex. What you will say and do once you get her alone.”

  “I am not a fool. My future success with the clan depends heavily on Keely. Her skills at running a household are very valuable. She’s a capable lass, and I will make sure she knows it.”

  “Tis a start,” Petro said.

  “She already asked me if I loved her.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I told her the truth, that I cared.”

  From his position, he could see most of the great hall. Both of their gazes followed Keely’s lithe form as she passed by, stepping gracefully to the music.

  “Your feelings are undeniable, Alexander. I see it in your eyes whenever you watch her. That is not the look of a man merely in lust. It is the heat of love, of keeping what you once lost.”

  “And what do ye know of such things? Ye stick yer pikk in anything with legs.”

  Petro chuckled. “My taste is more discriminating.”

  “And I shall never be critical of yer needs, my friend, as ye shouldna harp on me about mine.”

  “I understand, but a miserable union will destroy a man’s house.”

  Alex’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “This house is built upon rock.” He held his fist up, symbolizing the erection beneath his tartan. “I willna deny the lass anything, Petro. She will feel the extent of my passion—the years I’ve tried to extinguish it with the empty kisses of foreign women.”

  Though his head was swimming with hot memories about Keely, Alex refused to surrender to the tender feelings in his heart. Aye, he cared—more than he should. A tiny ember of what he used to feel for the lass had ignited inside him the day he encountered her in the great hall for the first time—how she came forward and called his name in front of his captains and tenants. That fierceness in her eyes, the willingness to aid his cause. The Oliphants were worthy allies. But he couldna trust her. She’d broken his heart. She’d forsaken her own father by running away.

  If
he let his guard down, she’d find a way inside his mind and heart—stealing his very soul. The fact that she still had that kind of power over him represented something he dinna want to think about, ever.

  “What are you afraid of, Alex?”

  The question caused Alex to set his empty cup on the mantle. He rested his palm against the stone wall and stared into the flames. Drinking himself numb was futile. Nothing could erase the past—even temporarily. Nay—his feelings were too intense to forget—too real. He’d promised himself that he’d shield the lass from harm, but when it came to what existed between them outside the bedchamber, she deserved a bitter portion—to feel what he’d felt, to suffer as he had.

  “I fear nothing, and wish to speak of this no more. Go and pick a lass to dance with and leave me in peace.”

  That caused his friend to raise a brow. “You changed your mind about me wooing the maids?”

  “I canna forbid ye from bedding a lass. But I give ye fair warning … get one with child, and ye will find yerself standing before Father Michael as quickly as I did.”

  Petro’s gaze searched the crowd. “The redheaded girl…”

  “Which one?”

  He gestured toward the doorway which opened into the kitchens. “The buxom one.”

  “Ye’ve a liking for Glenna. Her sire tragically died at my brother’s side.”

  “I am sorry for the loss.”

  “As am I. But Glenna and her sister Erin will need husbands to provide for them.”

  “I am not opposed to the idea of marriage, Alex.”

  “Then pursue the lass with my blessing.”

  “She will need time to mourn the loss of her father.”

  “Glenna needs comfort.”

  “As do you,” his friend reminded him.

  “Is every word I say an opportunity for ye to use it against me?”

  “Only if it serves a purpose.”

  “Then maybe I should carve yer tongue out.”

  The both laughed. Alex appreciated the blunt way Petro expressed himself. That’s why he made the best adviser and friend.

  Nasim approached with Keely, then bowed. “Thank you for the honor of dancing with your wife.”

  Alex nodded. “Bring yer brothers to the high table, Nasim. I have news to share.”

  “I will get them.” Nasim bowed once more and departed.

  “If you will excuse me, Lady Keely, Alex, I wish to speak with someone,” Petro said.

  Alex gave his friend a knowing smile. Glenna was standing at a nearby table. If she kept his friend occupied, it would spare Alex from getting more lectures.

  “Did ye enjoy the music?” Alex asked his wife.

  “Aye—all three brothers are excellent dancers and pleasant to speak with.” Keely paused. “Is it true, Alex?’

  “What, lass?”

  “The brothers are yer slaves?’

  “Aye.”

  “B-but…”

  “Doona judge me for keeping the ways of foreigners when I lived in their land.”

  “It goes against everything we Scots believe in. The Almighty endowed all men with certain attributes—being a slave isna one of them.”

  “Yer concern is appreciated but unwarranted.”

  Her look told him she’d never agree.

  Alex sighed at the need to further explain himself. “Are we not slaves to the crown? From the poorest tenant to the highest chieftain?”

  She considered it. “In a way. We are the king’s subjects.”

  “It means the same thing, lass. And if ye must know, I spared the life of their father when I was paid to kill him. He waged war against a rival lord and lost. Twas left to my discretion to do with his life as I wished. As I raised my sword, Lord Kalil made an offer I couldna refuse. His three eldest sons in exchange for his life. Such an offer is only made to an enemy a man respects.”

  “That’s a terrible fate for his sons.”

  “Again, doona judge their ways by our own. They are an ancient race. And when such an arrangement is made, they must be treated in a certain way—as sons of a prince.”

  “They are princes?”

  “Aye. They fight with me and receive an equal portion of the rewards we gain by defeating our enemies. The gifts offered to ye were from their own wealth. Slaves have certain rights, Keely, regardless of their high or low birth.”

  “I am sorry for misjudging ye without knowing the whole truth.”

  Alex escorted his wife back to the high table where Nasim and his brothers waited. Once seated, Alex called for silence.

  “In Constantinople, on a man’s wedding day, he is expected to share his good fortune. A tradition not too far from our own. So, on this momentous occasion, I will keep this practice alive.”

  The crowd cheered and raised their cups.

  Alex did the same, taking a drink of ale. “Cyrus, Kuresh, and Nasim, sons of Kalil, princes in their own right, ye have served me well.”

  The brothers raised their cups. “We salute you, Laird Alexander.”

  “Such loyalty and bravery deserve freedom,” Alex said.

  “Freedom?” Cyrus asked quietly. “What do you mean?”

  Alex leaned across the table. “Yer father’s debt to me is satisfied. Walk among men again as an equal.”

  “All of us?” Nasim asked.

  “Aye.”

  “What if we wish to serve you still?” Kuresh asked.

  “Then I willna send ye away. Ye will be appointed to my personal guard and honored as a MacKay.”

  “A MacKay?” Kuresh asked. “You wish me to take yer surname?”

  “If ye choose to stay here, aye. Ye canna live in the past,” Alex said, relying on the wise words of his scholar. “There is time to consider yer futures, to make a choice.”

  The brothers bowed.

  “Any man who questions my decision and mistreats ye, will feel my rage as Angus did when he laid hands on my bride.”

  The guests cheered and called out the brothers’ names.

  “Today marks a new beginning for Clan MacKay. I wish my father and brother were here to celebrate with us.” Alex turned to Keely. “And now, if ye doona mind, I will take my bride abovestairs.”

  Before she could protest, Alex scooped her up and made his way through the happy throng.

  “God’s blessings,” some called.

  “Bolt the door from the inside and out,” a man warned. “The lass might run away.”

  “Be at peace, Laird Alexander, and get Lady Keely with child, that will keep her a MacKay.”

  Though he appreciated the well wishes, the words stung his pride. The only thing that would keep his young wife in their bed was him. She had been left a maiden too long and dinna know her rightful place, dinna understand what being a wife meant.

  Keely wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “Are ye afraid, lass?”

  “Nay.” She peeked up at him. “Are ye?”

  He stopped mid-stair and laughed. “Ye’ll never give me peace, Keely. For almost every word out of yer pretty mouth surprises me.”

  “Blame my father, he taught me everything I know.”

  Alex dinna want her to lose the fire in her belly. Even though he complained about her being stubborn and disobedient, he’d have grown bored with a submissive wife. And that fighting spirit would eventually win the hearts of Clan MacKay back. Keely dinna face an easy future, but he knew she would rise above the challenges.

  “After tonight, lass, there will be no more confusion left between us, I promise.” He pushed the bedchamber door open with the toe of his boot.

  *

  Once she and Alex were inside, he barred the door, then turned to her. “Later, men will be posted outside the door and below, in case ye’d be foolish enough to jump out of the window.”

  She lifted her chin. “Ye still have no faith in me?” She couldna blame him for being overly cautious. The past still weighed heavily on them both. In time she’d prove herself trustworthy again.


  Alex walked to the hearth. He stoked the fire with a metal poker. “I know ye well, Keely. That alone gives me every right to be suspicious. But I am willing to set our differences aside and start our lives together. There are many things I like about ye.”

  She sighed, taking in the surroundings, including the enormous bed she was sure generations of MacKay lairds and their ladies had slept in. Surely it was large enough to accommodate Alex and three or four women at one time. She frowned at the thought.

  “Just then,” Alex pointed out, “a shadow crossed yer face. Why?”

  “Tis nothing.”

  “Tell me at once,” he demanded.

  “A foolish notion, nothing more.”

  “I will decide what’s foolish, lass.”

  “The bed…”

  Alex gazed at it. “Is it not to yer liking?”

  “It will serve,” she said.

  “Keely…”

  “Perhaps ye, me, and the rest of yer women.”

  Alex hung the poker on its hook, then crossed the room to where she stood.

  “I have six concubines, Keely.”

  She pivoted away from him and drew closer to the bed, imagining eight bodies tucked beneath the sheets and furs. “I’m afraid it will be a rather tight fit, milord.”

  “What?”

  “Can ye no picture it? Look closely.”

  Alex stood next to her.

  “Ye would surely prefer the middle. And I will sleep to yer right, as is my proper place, and Layla, yer favorite concubine, will sleep to yer left. I’m afraid the rest will have to fight for their positions. I doona want the responsibility of keeping track of such things.”

  Alex gaped at her. “Keely…”

  “I am not happy about it, Alex. I have no choice but to accept the unnatural cravings ye developed in that strange land.”

  “Keely.”

  “Is Layla beautiful?”

  “She is nothing next to ye.”

  “What about the… What did ye say?”

  “Layla pales in comparison to ye, Keely. All of them do.”

  Her heart raced at the rare compliment from Alex. “I-I…”

  Alex reached for her hands, cradling them in his. “Did ye not listen to the vow I took belowstairs? Pledging my body to ye?”

  “Of course I did. How many men have spoken the same words at their wedding only to break their sacred vow soon after? If I had a choice, I wouldna be here, we wouldna be here.” She started to panic, fear of the unknown growing inside her. How could she trust Alex? It seemed they shared common concerns. And a marriage built on anything but trust was doomed, was it not? “Tis not too late to send me back to my father.” She couldna hide the tears in her eyes. “Please…”