Highlander's Kiss

by Joanne Wadsworth

  In front of the keep, two lads loaded a cart with supplies for the warriors at the encampment, while across the inner bailey near the far curtain wall, a good fifty shirtless warriors wielded swords in a battle of strength against one another. Finlay, Kirk and Tor were amongst them, the three men training together as a team. They fought with immense skill, the clash of their claymores reverberating through the air, their moves graceful yet holding great strength. “We’ve arrived in good time. The men still train and the cart isnae yet fully loaded.”

  “Then I’ll join Tor for a bit, warm up my muscles before we leave.” Tavish palmed the hilt of his mighty sword. “Stay for as long as you can. I don’t care to have you out of my sight just yet.”

  “I will.” On her toes, she kissed his chin. “Be careful, because if you suffer even one scratch, I willnae be happy. Certainly whoever harms you will be wishing he never had.”

  “I’ll be sure to inform one and all.” He clasped her hips and rubbed his body against hers, his warm and fresh scent wrapping around her. “Right now I’m still feeling a whole lot territorial.”

  “I like territorial.” She palmed the mark on her neck then touched the mark she’d given him on his. Gently, she rubbed her thumb back and forth over it and smiled. “Go and train, so that then we might leave.”

  “Aye, my wife.” Grinning, he stepped back, slid his sword from its sheath and strode toward his brother and cousins. Swinging his blade in a wide figure eight, he warmed up at the edge of the training men, his moves quick and precise. His shoulders were packed with muscle, his arms so thick and strong and giving evidence of the hours he spent training each day. Everything about him intrigued her, from his gentle healing touch to his fierce fighting stance.

  She crossed to the center well draped in ivy where she could watch him with more ease and rested her bottom against the rimmed edge near the swaying pail.

  Tor backed away from Finlay and Kirk’s battle and advanced toward Tavish, his weapon held high. “Glad to see you’re back. If you hadn’t returned soon, I would have come in search of you.”

  “I needed some time away with Julia.” Tavish thrust his enormous sword against Tor’s as if it were an extension of him and not a massive blade that took such great strength to wield. “We’ve completed the bond and created the merged link of the mind.”

  “Congratulations.” Tor beamed as he swung and their two blades crashed hard. “You hear that, Finlay, Kirk? Our clan now has another newly mated pair.”

  “That’s the best news.” Finlay called out as he battled with Kirk. “Iain and Isla too will be thrilled.”

  “All I can say is I’ve never felt so at peace. Now, it’s time to set out and find Aleck and Adair and if they’re alive, to bring them back home.” Tavish landed one hard blow after another and Tor met each of his fierce strikes with one of his own. “My mate needs her parents returned to her, and without delay.”

  “Once the cart is loaded, we’ll head out with the traveling party.” Tor swung and Tavish caught his high strike and pushed back.

  Tavish glanced at her. “Go and pack if you wish.”

  “Just keep your eyes on the fight.” She blew him a kiss.

  “The sight of you is far more appealing than the sight of my brother.”

  “Watch out.” Chuckling, Tor swung and Tavish caught his hit. “She might be more appealing but I‘m the one with the weapon.”

  “Then let’s battle.” The two fought, both moving with such grace and stealth. Sweat glistened on their brows and dampened their tunics while the clash of their blades ricocheted all around the yard.

  “Julia!” Arabel dashed out of the keep and hurried toward her, the white ribbons tied around her corseted blue gown rippling in the breeze. Her sister swamped her in a huge hug, her sweet vanilla scent encasing her. “I’m so glad you and Tavish are back. Is all well?”

  “Very well.” She touched the mark Tavish had given her and smiled. “There’s been a development.”

  “You completed the bond?” Her sister jiggled from foot to foot as she spotted the mark.

  “We did, and we now have a merged link of the mind.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful news. I’m so happy for you.”

  Cherub shimmered into view near the cart, her skin sparkling in the morning sunshine. She waved out to them and walked across. “I’ve been out looking for you, Julia, well you and Tavish.”

  “We spent the night at the underground caverns farther along the loch. We completed the bond and as we did, our auras finally behaved and came into alignment.”

  “That’s the best news.” The wind lifted, fluttered Cherub’s navy skirts and blew a lock of her blond hair across her cheek. Smiling, Cherub hugged her. “Congratulations. Once you’ve packed, we’ll ride out. Kirk enjoys roaming the countryside on horseback when he can, rather than having me whizzing us through the air all the time.”

  “I cannae wait to leave.” She kissed Arabel’s cheek. “I’ll keep in touch with you during the mission, however that can be arranged.”

  “I’ll be waiting for news.” Arabel tipped her head toward the keep. “Go and pack.”

  “I shall.” With her burgundy skirts in hand, she rushed inside and bumped straight into Matthew. She gripped his shoulders to keep herself from toppling over. “I’m so sorry, Matthew. I wasnae watching where I was running.”

  “Little has changed since you were a bairn.” In his brown tunic and trews, his gray hair thinning at the top, he plucked a red-skinned apple from the woven basket he carried over one arm and offered it to her. “For you, my wee Julia. I’m driving the cart to the encampment and glad I am you’ve returned in time. Tor told me about your mate, a clever man that Tavish is, a healer of great ability. Tor said they call him a doctor in his time.”

  “Aye, that is true.” She snuck the apple from his hand, rubbed it on her skirts until the red skin gleamed. She took a bite and the sweet apple juice ran down her chin. Wiping it away, she murmured, “Mmm, delicious. Thank you, Matthew.”

  “You’re most welcome. I’ve heard about the plan to find Aleck and Adair. All within the keep are speaking of it.” He tipped his head toward the stairwell. “Be quick now. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can find your parents and bring them back home.”

  “Save me another apple for later.” Munching on the sweet fruit, she dashed up the winding stairwell. Yesterday, she’d stood on the MacKenzie’s battlements with Cherub as they’d confronted Jeremiah, and now she was to join their warriors at the encampment and begin searching for her parents. Jeremiah’s words echoed through her mind. They’re alive and far from here. When they first arrived, I was the one to personally escort them to their new accommodations, and they’ve remained there the length of their imprisonment. You can be certain though that when the deadline expires and Julia hasn’t been brought to me, then their death will be assured. I’ll see to it myself.

  She had to believe her parents lived, that they’d find them in time. No other thought would she consider.

  In her chamber, she rolled her shoulders and inserted her never-ending resolve.

  “Good morn, my lady.” Effie rose from the hearth where she’d cleaned the fireplace. She dusted her hands against her aproned sides and motioned toward the side table where a tray sat with a steaming cup of tea and an earthenware plate holding three of the cook’s mouth-watering raspberry and honey tarts. “I was in the kitchens when one of the lads brought the news of your return. I brought you a tray. Do you wish for a bath?”

  “I’ll forego a bath, but thank you for the tea. Could you lay out my violet riding habit then pack a bag for me? I’m riding to the encampment along with the warriors this morn.”

  “Aye, my lady. I’ll pack all you might need.” Effie wandered to her golden curtained ambry and foraged through her clothing. She laid the riding habit, a broad-brimmed hat, and sturdy black boots on the bed, then swept a traveling bag down from the uppermost shelf and carefully folded an assortment of out
fits inside.

  Apple finished, she crossed to her dressing screen with its length of twine hanging across the inside, slid the orchid Tavish had given her from out behind her ear and strung it up, the bloom facing downward so it would dry. Once it had, she’d store the gift in her keepsake box. This orchid would remind her of the night that had passed, of when they’d completed the bond and joined in all ways.

  “Load the cart with additional weapons to send to the men.” Finlay’s booming voice filtered through her window, ringing with authority from the lower courtyard. Gilleoin couldn’t have left their clan in better hands than those of Finlay and Kirk’s.

  She swished to the window and gripped the stone sill.

  Amongst the battling warriors, Tavish wielded his blade with such precision, his biceps rippling and his tunic pulled taut across his wide shoulders. Her fingers tingled with the need to touch him again, to glide over his golden skin and slide through his silky black hair. The hem of his billowy white tunic fluttered free over his leather trews and gave glimpses of his trim waist as he fought. Goodness. She longed to be back in their cavern with him, to have his warm and fresh scent swirling around her, to see his golden shifter eyes spark with desire as he sent her soaring far beyond her body. She’d been gifted with a soul bound mate who’d stolen her heart, a man of many talents, from his dedicated ability to heal to his fierce need to protect. His pure white aura with its sizzling red edge tugged upward and a single stream slipped free and floated on the breeze toward her. She opened her window wider and held out one hand. The tendril swirled in and around her then settled on her palm. Her heart lifted as the tendril kissed her skin with its warmth then soaked into her very being.

  “We’re almost there, Matthew.” Finlay squeezed the elderly cart driver’s shoulder then jumped onto the rear of the wooden cart filled with blankets, clothing, armory and other supplies for the warriors camped to the east. Finlay glanced at the cook’s son as he stacked a large sack of oats onto the rear. “Alan, bring the loaves of bread the cook set aside this morning, the beans and the fresh fruit the younger lads picked from the grove as well. There’s room for it all.”

  “Aye, sir.” He rushed off to do Finlay’s bidding.

  Tavish and Tor sheathed their swords and strode over to Finlay while Kirk bounded over to Cherub and Arabel as they chatted. Kirk swept Cherub off her feet and her giggles abounded.

  At the cart, Tavish tucked the goods into the corner and made more room for the loaves, beans and fruit Alan and another lanky lad returned with. Both lads, brothers with barely a year between them, had brown hair and breeches a good two inches too short on their legs. Their pale blue aura, now tinged with a golden glow, depicted their desire to travel to the camp with the warriors although they were still too young. Mayhap in another year or two they could join the warrior men.

  Tavish clapped both the lads on the back and thanked them, a sweet gesture and one that caused their auras to glow brighter with pride. They grinned and ducked their heads under the praise then jogged back toward the side door of the keep.

  She smiled too, picked up her tea from the table and sipped the cooling brew then popped a sweet tart in her mouth. So delicious. “Do you have a sweet tooth, Tavish?”

  He glanced toward her window on the third floor, locked his gaze on hers and grinned. “I do, and a terribly persistent one at that. How long until you’re ready to leave?”

  “I’m about to dress. Do you wish me to have the maid bring your bags downstairs? They’re still sitting by my door.” She swiped another tart, leaned out the window and whispered, “Catch,” as she tossed the sweet pastry to him.

  He caught the tart one-handed and popped it into his mouth. “I’ll be up in a moment. I wish to change myself.”

  “I’ll lay some clothes out for you and have the rest of your belongings sent down.” She scooped his bag stuffed with clothing onto the bed, foraged within and pulled out a blue tunic with the Matheson clan crest embroidered on the front pocket and tan rawhide trews. He could wear his war coat as he rode, should he have a need for the added warmth.

  “Is there aught more you need, my lady?”

  “Only for you to take these bags downstairs and ensure they’re packed with the provisions going to the camp.” She snuck the last tart and munched.

  “Of course.” Effie bundled the bags in her arms and closed the door with a dip of her head as she left.

  She shed her gown and shift, flapped out the cream riding shirt Effie had left for her to don and gasped as warm arms wrapped around her from behind. She turned in Tavish’s hold and looked into his glittering gaze. “Your clothes are on the bed. Effie took my bags and yours downstairs.”

  “Thank you, and I believe I need to make a stipulation that whenever you’re changing, you only do so while I’m in the room. I’d hate to think I might have missed out on seeing you like this.” He pulled her tight against his very hard and very hot body, where every one of those muscles she’d just admired from the window now lay in perfect reach. He’d already shed his tunic and it lay in a puddle of white on the floor, his trews riding low on his hips. She ran her hands over his corded back.

  “I wish to make the same request.”

  “I need to kiss you.” He stroked one hand over her bare bottom, swept the other around the back of her head then dipped her backward. “Except kissing will lead to so much more and right now time is ticking away.”

  “There is always time for a kiss.”

  “Then I’ll need to make that kiss count.” He licked her lower lip then sucked it into his mouth. “You taste so sweet.”

  He kissed her deeper and a fierce heat swept through her, so wicked and wonderful it tightened her nipples and made her weep for him below. She moaned as a storm of need surged through her, as he covered her mouth with his and kissed her with such a soul-searing possession that had her arching into him for more.

  Breathing hard, he pulled back, set her back on her feet then whipped her cream shirt over her head. He flapped out her violet riding skirt and knelt at her feet. “Step in.”

  She did and he wriggled the heavy fabric up her legs and fastened the ties at her waist.

  Rising, he brushed his big body against hers then held out her fitted jacket. “Arms in.”

  “You are dressing me far faster than I ever thought possible.” She slid her arms into the sleeves and he fastened the jacket at the front then nabbed her leather boots and after slipping one on each of her feet, laced them up.

  “Don’t expect me to dress you quite so quickly ever again. I’d love nothing more than to topple you into that bed right now and never let you get back out of it. There is a reason newlyweds always enjoy a long honeymoon, one which we’ve been denied of.”

  “I too would like a honeymoon.” She pressed one hand to the heated warmth of his chest. “Do you need aid in dressing?”

  “I need to wash up and shave first.” He strode to the side table and poured water from the jug into the basin. From the pile of cloths, he unfolded the topmost one, dipped it into the water and wiped his arms and chest.

  “Here, allow me.” She snuck the cloth from his hands, stepped in behind him and stroked down the heavily muscled plane of his back until his golden skin gleamed. “May I shave you too?”

  “I’d be a fool to say no and lose the touch of your hands on me.” He turned around, perched on the edge of the table and hands on her hips, tucked her in between his spread legs. The black leather molded his strong thighs and she snuggled into the V as she reached around him and picked up the bar of soap.

  “Mother used to shave Father at times.” She angled his head to the left and inspected the sharp black stubble that had grown considerably overnight. “Father though preferred to grow a beard and ’twas one as golden in color as his hair, and rather ticklish too.”

  “What made it ticklish?”

  “When I was a child, he would rub his whiskered cheek against mine and make me laugh, Arabel too. Whenever h
e kissed my poor mother, she’d more often than not end up in a fit of giggles. Her laughter always soothed me. I long to hear it again.” Smoothly, she built a lather and smeared his jaw with the foamy bubbles then held out her hand. “Your dagger please.”

  “Take care with that blade.” He slid his dirk free from his wrist sheath and passed it across. “I keep it fastidiously sharp.”

  “Good. All the better to slice this stubble off with. I prefer you clean shaven so I can see your face and each of my marks on your neck.” She turned his cheek with one finger, held the blade nice and close to his skin and ran it in a smooth line down. With care, she drew the dirk along the next portion from his ear to his chin.

  “You sound as territorial as I do, and when my stubble gets long enough, it softens.” He curled his fingers around her hips to keep her still. “I wouldn’t mind tickling you with it.” Softly sensual words that had heat flaring through her blood.

  “Your words are getting me all hot and bothered.” She ran the blade right under his nose. “Dinnae move. I’ve no wish to cut your beautiful mouth, no’ when I’m in constant need of it.”

  “You think my mouth is beautiful?”

  “Aye, as beautiful as your stunning shifter eyes.” She tapped his jaw shut and slid the blade along his neck. Done, she dabbed his skin with a cloth, cleared the last of the suds away then leaned in and rubbed her cheek against his. “Mmm, now that is nice and smooth.”

  “You’ve done a better job than I ever could have. I’m far more used to shaving with an electric razor.” He took the blade from her and sheathed it.