A Magical Highland Solstice

by Mary Morgan

  Eve tried to squirm away, but his hands were too strong—too powerful. She was vulnerable under his ministrations. And with each touch, each stroke of his tongue, she longed to see what he would do to her next.

  She couldn’t look away, mesmerized by what she longed for him to do to her body. Overwhelmed by the combinations of sensations—a brush of his fingers parted her flesh down below. But when he blew across her curls, her heart froze. Would he dare to put his mouth there? His gaze was predatory, seductive, and he held her captive.

  “I have longed to taste ye here.” His voice hoarse with desire.

  He set his mouth to the place where she most desperately needed him, and Eve surrendered as the first flick of his tongue entered her. Her hands dug into the furs as the first wave of pleasure prickled across her skin. His mouth was glorious, his tongue driving her body to a bliss she had never encountered. Her breathing became labored, and she watched in a sensual haze everything Cormac was doing to her.

  He drew back, and Eve let out a protest. “Don’t stop.”

  “Nae. Remember, ye come when I am inside ye.” Cormac prowled over her, capturing her moan with his mouth. He drew the breath from her lungs and then gave it back to her. Eve opened fully, feeling his hard length nudge her.

  Ever so slowly, he guided himself inside—inch by inch. His hand slid under her bottom, and he thrust deeply into her. Crying out in exquisite bliss, Eve succumbed to his assaults, fisting her hands through his hair and urging him onward. She writhed in pleasure when his hard length stretched her further. He was a master at lovemaking, sending her trembling into an abyss—both frightening and desirable. His breath labored—the movements coming faster.

  Eve raked her nails down his back. “I want…need,” she sobbed out.

  “Feel, leannan…let yourself go with me inside ye,” he growled, rubbing his face against her cheek. “Ye are mine!”

  She let go, surrendered, and opened herself fully—body and soul. And on a cry, Eve soared on a wave of ecstasy, flying beyond the stars. Her lips found their way instinctively to his. She kissed him, lingering, savoring his taste, and then Cormac uttered his own guttural release deep within her.

  His hard body stayed atop hers for several moments before he gently rolled them over, pulling the furs over their still joined bodies. Eve could feel his racing heartbeat against her chest, mirroring her own beats.

  Eve was blissfully sated. Content. Happy, being wrapped in Cormac’s powerful arms. However, her mind would not shut down. He told her he wanted her always, not only this night. Her fear of herself made Eve doubt his words. Yet, for the first time in her life, this medieval man made her feel beautiful. Medieval? How in the hell did she travel back in time? She had shoved aside her earlier conversation with him, fearing he was telling the truth. A truth Eve was definitely not willing to accept. Time-travel happened in faerytales and romance stories, not in real life.

  Or did they? She had often scoffed at scientists spouting nonsense, when they said time was many layers, each one unique. Had any of them managed to time-travel?

  Everyone here didn’t seem to mind that she was from another time. Didn’t Cormac mention she wasn’t the first lass to travel the veil of time? Who were the others? How was it possible? Eve should have paid more attention to those raving scientists. She rolled over, and snuggled her back against his chest.

  “Ye are thinking too much, leannan,” he murmured against her neck.

  His breath was hot and sensual, and Eve shivered.

  “Sleep.”

  She smiled. “How can you tell?”

  “I ken ye.” He nibbled on her shoulder.

  Eve tried to twist around to face him, but he held her firm, one hand already fondling her breast—his erection hard against her bottom.

  “In such a short time? There’s a lot you don’t know about my life—my former life.” She didn’t believe her question foolish, since she could read the man just as easily—from his stubborn stance, defiant attitude, and desire for her.

  “Aye. This is true. But I do ken ye, Eve Brannigan.”

  “Hmm…”

  “Is that a pleasurable comment, or something else?” This time his hand traveled down to her bottom.

  “Both,” she sighed. A quiver surged through her veins with each brush of his fingers. “I have…umm…questions. Cormac…”

  “Later ye can ask your questions,” he said as he thrust into her from behind.

  “Yes…” She could feel the rumble of his laughter.

  The sensation was different, and Eve relished this new position. She couldn’t remember what she wanted to say as the man moved slowly within her. He teased her with his other hand in lingering touches. His expert handling sent her to even higher levels of ecstasy.

  “I cannae get enough of ye. I want to bury myself in ye and stay there forever.” The burr of his voice sent a thrill of excitement down her back. When he rubbed his rough chin on her shoulder, she gasped at the exquisite pleasure.

  Her body started to quake as the tremor of release built. Yet, he pulled out completely, and Eve moaned in protest. “No—”

  Cormac swiftly turned her over and in one swift move, entered her fully.

  They both cried out in unison. Taking her hands, he held them above her head and moved again in earnest. Eve matched his thrusts, each one more powerful than the last. The orgasm slammed into her so violently, she screamed out his name, barely hearing his own cry of release.

  She floated high on the peaceful bliss, and in the silent moments that followed their lovemaking, Eve realized her life would never be the same.

  Had she not vowed to never love a man? To do so, would be to open her heart to heartache, and that’s exactly what had happened. Yet, her heart ignored what her mind had willed it to do for years.

  And the man had slipped behind the chains protecting her heart. He’d unlocked a treasure chest of feelings—ones she vowed to never give, since she believed herself not worthy.

  However, this man—this Highlander had stolen her heart and soul, and Eve was totally, undeniably, completely, head over heels in love with Laird Cormac Murray.

  Yet, her greatest fear squashed the happiness she felt.

  What if he could not love her in return? The mere thought sent a tremor of unease disturbing the happiness she’d experienced only moments before.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “The knight made a bracelet of faery flowers to bestow to his beloved on the Winter Solstice.”

  Warmth infused his spirit as Cormac slowly awakened. His body longed to take Eve again—to hold her in his arms. Never before had he experienced so much joy with another woman. She filled the emptiness within his soul. His hand glided across the furs in search of his love, but instead found his bed empty of the lass. He bolted upright and rubbed his eyes. Blinking several times, he glanced around. No trace of Eve remained except for the scent lingering in his bed.

  Light streamed into his chamber, and he cursed.

  Throwing off the covers, he wandered over to the table and poured water into a basin. Splashing his face with the icy water helped to remove the remnants of sleep and douse the fire burning in his body for a buxom, beautiful lass with eyes that stole his breath each time she glanced his way.

  Hearing laughter, Cormac paused in his ablutions and strolled over to the window. Glancing down, he was unprepared for the sight that greeted him. In the center of the courtyard stood Eve, children surrounding her as she built some kind of beast with snow. The lass shrieked with delight, hugging one of the lads. The children seemed to enjoy what she was doing as well.

  Noting one of the older lads behind her cupping a ball of snow in his hands, Cormac braced his hands on the window ledge. “Nae, ye would not dare.”

  To his horror, the lad threw the ball of snow at Eve’s back. Fury seethed inside him. Yet, Cormac’s mouth dropped open, when she turned, laughed, and then proceeded to scoop up a handful of snow and throw it back, hitting him squarely
in the face.

  “A good one, Eve!” shouted Cormac.

  The children took turns at tossing balls of snow at her, and she did her best to make sure they were hit with one, as well.

  The lass constantly surprised him.

  Cormac yearned to take part in the playfulness, but other duties required his attention.

  He rubbed his face vigorously. Quickly dressing, he grabbed his sword and made his way out of his chambers. The smell of sweet bread had his steps leading him to the kitchens.

  “Good morn,” stated Moira trying her best not to smile. “’Tis late, but I am sure Nola can find ye something to eat, so ye may break your fast. And before ye ask, the spice box has been found. Some foolish person placed it high on a shelf. But I will not name names. Furthermore, I still have need of that bottle of pear wine. I only require a splash.”

  Great Goddess! He had forgotten to fetch the bottle of wine last eve. “’Tis great news, indeed. I shall bring it to ye later. Is there any bread?”

  This time the woman laughed fully. “Aye, but I deem Eve would nae welcome finding ye have sliced into the bread she has prepared for the Yule feast.”

  Stunned, Cormac replied, “The lass has been baking?” He had made love to her once more in the early hours of the new day. When he drifted off to sleep, he had thought she did the same. Obviously, his leannan left his bed soon thereafter.

  “Since early morn. I found her singing when I hobbled in here with Glenna. She had the look of one who had not slept, though there was a rosy glow to her face.”

  Cormac shrugged, glancing around for anything else to eat. “The lass likes to sing and bake.”

  “Aye, especially when she’s happy.”

  Unfolding a cloth, he took a small blade and removed a chunk of cheese. “’Tis good to hear. I would want only her happiness.”

  “I have given her the day off, Cormac, since the next few will be hectic with preparations.”

  He could feel the woman’s questioning gaze as he walked out of the kitchens.

  “Dinnae forget to have the men gather some pine branches for the kissing boughs,” she shouted.

  “Aye, Moira.”

  Although, as Cormac ambled out into the bailey, his plans for the day took a twist. The sun was shining with no threat of more snow. A perfect day to show Eve his lands—his home. They would collect the pine branches together.

  So deep in his thoughts, he had no time to dodge the ball of snow that smacked him on the head.

  A hushed silence descended. He narrowed his eyes at the group gathered. Their leader stood in the center with a fist to her mouth. Clearly, Eve was doing her best not to laugh at him.

  He wiped the slush from his face. Dropping his food, Cormac bent and picked up some snow. He glanced at the older lads. “Have ye not told Eve the tale of the great snow fight many moons ago?”

  “The one with ye and the MacKays—the Dragon Knights?”

  Cormac nodded. “Aye, Bran.”

  The lad’s eyes went wide. “Och, nae.”

  Cormac tossed the ball of snow in the air. “Ye should have before ye started this game.”

  Eve crossed her arms over her chest. “All right, Laird Murray. You have my interest. Do tell the story.”

  He kept tossing the wet mass, feeling its weight, and then stooped to gather more. “’Twas many, many moons ago when I was a young lad—”

  “You must be ancient,” she teased.

  Cormac tried hard not to laugh. “Aye, some have said the same. As I was saying, when I was a young lad, I dared to challenge all the MacKay brothers.”

  “The Dragon Knights,” she corrected. Frowning, she added, “Why are they called Dragon Knights? Is this some unique Order?”

  Some of the lads snorted, and Cormac glared at them.

  “A verra special Order. I shall save that story for another day. May I continue telling the tale?”

  “Of course,” she said, smiling.

  “Now, these MacKays are mighty powerful.” She started to ask a question, but Cormac stayed her words with his hand. “Ye might save your questions until after I give my account.”

  She bit her lip. “Sorry.”

  For a moment, her luscious lips distracted Cormac, recalling them on his body only hours ago. Shoving the lustful memory aside, he continued, “There were four against myself. Ye see, they were boasting of all their strength. Therefore, I challenged all of them to a playful battle. They all laughed and mocked me, saying it would be a slaughter. They would not dare injure their friend—me. But I scoffed at them until they relented. One by one, I took all four MacKays within an hour. Even with their strength and skill, I proved to be more skillful with scooping, packing, and tossing a ball of snow than the mighty Dragon Knights.”

  Eve moved toward him. “So what you’re saying is, if we challenge you to a snowball fight, we’ll lose?”

  “Most certainly.”

  She snorted. “Sounds like these Dragon Knights are weak.”

  Cormac leaned near her ear and uttered softly, “These men are part Fae with powers of fire, storms, water, and land. Fierce in battle, size, and strength.”

  Her mouth parted in shock. “What land have I fallen through time into?”

  He brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. “Scotland, leannan. A place filled with magic.”

  She held his gaze and smiled. “You must tell me more…later.”

  “With pleasure.” Giving her a wink, he strolled away from her and the children, still tossing the ball of snow and bracing himself for what was to follow.

  Within moments, a barrage of snowballs pelted his back. Tossing back his head, Cormac roared with laughter. Swiftly turning around, he stalked over to their leader.

  “Is that one for me?” she asked between bouts of laughter.

  “Aye.”

  “Then throw it!”

  “Nae. Must find a special place. Perchance, on your skin.”

  “Absolutely not!” she shrieked.

  His prey’s cheeks colored more under the heat of his gaze. When she lifted her gown to flee, he lunged, and they both went tumbling—the ball of snow slapping him in the face.

  Gleeful shouts emanated from the children. “Lady Eve has won,” yelled one of the lasses.

  Cormac burst out in laughter, along with Eve. Rolling off her, he stood and brushed off the snow. Holding out his hand, he said, “I concede this one time, Lady Eve.”

  Taking his offered hand, she stood. Reaching up with her fingers, she wiped away the bits of slush from his hair. “Perhaps a rematch?”

  Giving her a wink, he said quietly, “We shall discuss terms in my chambers this evening.”

  “I may resort to bribery,” she countered moving away from him.

  Quickly grabbing her hand, he placed a kiss on her wrist. “I hear ye have the day off. Would ye care to journey with me to see my lands and collect some pine branches for the feast?”

  “I would love to,” she agreed softly.

  “Good. Meet me in the stables in an hour.”

  Heading for the lists, Cormac was prepared for a tongue-lashing from some of his men for sleeping past dawn, but he gave nae care. His mood was one of happiness and naught they said would dispel the feeling.

  When he entered, Gordon was leaning against a pillar. The man turned and raised a brow. The others lowered their swords, trying hard to hide their smirks.

  Cormac pointed his sword at the group of men. “I shall slice the tongue out of the first who dares to speak the lateness of the hour.”

  “None from me,” replied Gordon, smiling fully. “Ye must have had a verra good reason for staying abed.”

  “Aye,” agreed the rest of the men.

  Cormac’s hands itched to take a blow to Gordon’s smile and remove it from his face.

  His guard moved away from the pillar. “Who would ye like to spar with first?”

  “None. I have other duties to attend to. Ye may continue.” He stared at the man, daring him to
utter another word.

  Gordon gave him a salute.

  Leaving the men, Cormac quickly made his way to the stables. Upon entering, he searched for his stable master. “Tiernan, where are ye?”

  The man waved a hand out of one of the stalls. “In here.”

  Stepping over to the stall, Cormac peered inside. Tiernan glanced his way. “Broken shoe.”

  “I’ll tell Ross to make another,” stated Cormac, leaning over the edge of the stall.

  “Nae bother. The smithy was here earlier. Another horse required a shoe, as well.”

  “I need a horse for Eve. The lass has never ridden. Do ye deem she would fare well with Shadow?”

  Tiernan chuckled, tossing bits of a broken horseshoe out of the stall. “Aye, but if the lass is fearful of the animals, one look at the old beast will surely have her running for the hills.”

  Rubbing his chin, Cormac glanced down the stables searching for the animal. “True. Yet, he is a calm, sturdy horse.”

  “Shall I prepare the animal?” asked Tiernan.

  “Nae. I will tend to him and my own.”

  “Ye might want to have words with the lass before she sets her eyes on the beast,” suggested Tiernan.

  As he strolled along the stables, Cormac approached the animal’s stall and plucked an apple from a basket hanging on a peg. “Greetings, Shadow.”

  Black beady eyes fixed intently on Cormac. Tufts of his black mane stuck out in all directions, giving him a haunted, mad appearance. Although, in truth, the black beast was one of the gentlest horses he had ever encountered. He was given the name of Shadow, because everyone feared the animal and ignored him altogether. The poor beast was constantly left out.

  Taking a bite from his apple, Cormac held the piece outward. “I am giving ye a bribe, my friend. Ye are to be on your best manners for a certain lass. I must confess to a secret. She does not ken how to ride a horse. Furthermore, I happen to like this lass, and I sense ye will too.”

  The horse ambled slowly toward him. Taking the offered treat, he devoured it in one bite and then nudged Cormac’s shoulder.