Ravished by a Highlander

by Paula Quinn

  She believed him. Oh God, thank You, thank You, thank You. “And you to me,” she vowed as he kissed her mouth, her chin, the swell of her breast, sinking a little deeper into her with each tender surge.

  The pain increased as Rob stretched her, but still he pushed, plunging inside her with slow, salacious strokes that began to feel deliciously good. How could she ever be afraid of anything with this man? She trusted him fully, wholly, with her life, her happiness, and with her heart. She loved being in his arms, the feel of his hard body atop hers, covering her, cherishing her. He was more than she ever could have dreamed of.

  Her muscles clenched around him and he groaned with pleasure and buried his length into her.

  “I hope ye want this life with me, Davina.” His voice was thick and heavy with need.

  Yes, yes, she did.

  He pulled his length almost free of her tight sheath and rose up above her. “Because tonight…” He slipped his hand behind her nape and dragged her toward his hungry mouth while he thrust deep inside her, impaling her to him again, and then again. “I want to get ye heavy with my bairn, and tomorrow”—he drove into her harder, faster, staring into her eyes as he shot the full bounty of his seed inside her—“I want to marry ye.”

  Rob awoke from a dream and ran his palm over the soft indentation where Davina had fallen asleep in his arms. His dream faded and left the terrifying sense of losing her in its wake. He sat up in his bed, ready to take her back.

  Darkness replaced the honeyed glow of the dying hearth fire. Silence clung to the thick stone walls and seeped deep into Rob’s marrow, drawing his gaze toward the only source of light in the room.

  She stood at the window. Her face, tilted toward Heaven, was bathed in the pearly caress of moonlight. His heart accelerated at the sight of her lost in his large tunic. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her hands unseen beneath his long sleeves, as the wind whistling over the hills lifted her pale tresses softly off her shoulders. Dear God, she looked so vulnerable, so alone, and so utterly beautiful standing there that he nearly leapt from the bed.

  The need to go to her was maddening, but her silence was the comfort she gave to herself—the comfort no one else was able to give her. Rob was loath to disrupt it, though he wanted to be the one to offer it to her.

  He whispered her name, unable to control his own mouth, or the need to follow her wherever she went.

  Hearing him, she turned her head, granting him full view of her face as she smiled. “I love when you say my name.”

  “Aye?” Rob’s voice pulsed along with his heart as he tossed his legs over the side of the bed. Standing, he drew his blanket around his shoulders and went to her. “Callin’ ye ‘wife’ is oot of the question, then?”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it.” Her smile grew as wide as his when he reached her.

  “Nor I,” he promised, stepping behind her and closing his arms around her beneath the blanket. He wanted to carry her back to bed and make love to her until the morning, but she returned her pensive gaze to the world outside his window. Where was she going? What was it that sometimes drew her away, leaving her so serious and withdrawn?

  “I willna’ let any harm come to ye,” he breathed across her ear.

  “I know that.” She covered his hand on her chest with her own. “I was just thinking about my father,” she said after a moment. “I have done the like many times throughout my life. Wondering if he would know me, if he had ever felt the void at his feet where Mary and Anne played. It is foolish to dwell on such things, I know…”

  “’Tis no’ foolish.” He pressed his lips to the back of her head and closed his eyes, following her to a place where no one had trod before him, and loving her all the more for allowing him to come.

  “Do you know how difficult it is to know your family exists, living their lives every day without you, without wanting you in it? I used to pray for him to come for me—him and my mother. But he never did. Later, I understood why, but it did not lessen the isolation. I filled my days with dreams of being someone else. Someone not vital to the kingdom. Just me—out there, living, loving, with no fear of tomorrow. I languished over how different my life would have been if I wasn’t the daughter of the Catholic heir to the throne, until I finally hated that I was, and accepted my fate without a fight.” She turned in his arms, the shadows gone from her eyes as she looked up at him. “And then you snatched me from the ashes and stirred my dreams back to life.”

  Rob smiled, pulling her closer. “Ye’ve nae need to dream anymore, my love,” he said, kissing her mouth. “I will give ye everything ye need, everything ye want, and more.”

  He swept her up and carried her back to bed. This time, they made love slowly, curiously, as if they had their entire lifetimes to squander away on nothing more pressing than what made the other groan with delight, or smile in ecstasy.

  But they didn’t have a lifetime. Rob knew her father would come for her eventually, and now, knowing how badly Davina had always wanted him in her life, his fear that she would go with him to England to fulfill her destiny nearly overwhelmed him. Nae, he would take her as his wife and help her forget all she lost, give her everything as he had promised, and pray that the king never found them. Even if he did, James did not know her. He’d never visited St. Christopher’s. There was no one left alive from the Abbey to identify her as the king’s daughter. No one but Asher… and that would be remedied in the morning.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Rob wasn’t in bed when Davina opened her eyes the next morning, but Maggie MacGregor was. She sat at the edge of the mattress, her bright blue eyes riveted on her groggy subject with a mixture of dread and intense interest.

  Davina bolted upright, grasping for the blanket to cover herself. She felt her cheeks go up in flames as Maggie’s gaze flicked over her bare shoulders.

  “I… I…” Oh, dear God, what could she say? Sickeningly, she remembered what Maggie had called Caitlin MacKinnon. A trollop. Davina was worse than that. She was a lusty, wanton wench who fell into a man’s bed the day he brought her home. She wanted to weep—or pull the blanket over her head and pray Maggie would be gone when she peeked out again. What was she doing here, and why wasn’t she saying anything?

  “Where is Rob?” Davina finally managed, dragging the blanket up to her chin.

  Maggie stared at her a moment longer before she sighed and shook her head as if she was having trouble of her own getting the words to come out of her mouth. “He rode to Portree a few hours ago to fetch a priest.”

  Relief flooded through Davina. Then he truly was going to wed her. She hadn’t really doubted it. So far, Rob had kept his word on everything he’d told her, but she’d been afraid to hope that this was all real. That he was real. By tonight she would belong to a clan. She would have a husband, a sister, brothers, cousins, uncles, and… aunts.

  “I know what you must be thinking of me,” she said softly, looking away from Maggie’s penetrating eyes. “But I vow to you that Rob is the first…” Her voice trailed off. Betrothed or not, she was still too ashamed to speak of her maidenhood aloud.

  Maggie made a little sound, like a dull blade had just scraped across her heart. She pushed herself off the bed and began to pace in front of it.

  “It does not matter what I think. Robert made that clear before he left.” She met Davina’s shameful gaze and sighed again. “I do not think poorly of ye. Robert is not careless with his affection as Tristan is. I know there is deep emotion involved here, and that is what distresses me.”

  “Why?” Davina asked on a whispered plea.

  Maggie cast her an incredulous look. “Because ye are the king’s daughter! Have ye fergotten that, gel?”

  In truth, she had. For once.

  “And if bedding and wedding ye were not bad enough,” Maggie continued, pacing faster, “he thinks to deceive the king about yer identity. He is going to tell him that ye are a novice named Elaine, and that ye claimed to be the king’s da
ughter because ye thought Robert was the Princess Royal’s enemy and ye had hoped to give her time to escape. But of course, she didn’t.”

  Davina quirked her brow at her, confused, but Maggie barely took notice enough to clarify further. “Och, but my brother is going to skin him alive, if yer father does not do so first.”

  Davina sat still on the bed as her world crumbled around her. Maggie was right. She couldn’t wed Rob without it costing him his life if her father ever came here. Oh, how could they have been so foolish, so reckless? Even last eve she knew in her heart that she could never escape who she was. But crushed against his strong heart, she could pretend…. Tears streamed down her face and she swiped them away, not wanting Maggie to see her weakness. But still they came, until finally she covered her face with her blanket and wept.

  “There now, sweeting.” Maggie hurried to her and pulled her into her arms. “There’s no need fer that.”

  “I must leave here before it’s too late,” Davina cried. “Will can bring me to—”

  “Will knows Robbie’s heart and will never go against it. Nae, ye cannot go.”

  “But I must. I won’t let Rob die for me. I didn’t want him to bring me here, but he would not be swayed.”

  “Aye, that is my Robert, as stubborn as his father.”

  “And then when I saw Camlochlin and met all of you, I was happy he hadn’t listened. Oh, Maggie, what am I to do? I love him.”

  “I know, child, I know,” Maggie soothed, wiping Davina’s eyes, and her own, as well. “Mayhap, all is not lost. King Charles gave Claire to a Highlander, after all.”

  “His cousin,” Davina pointed out, wiping her nose. “I am the king’s daughter.”

  “Nae.” Maggie cupped her face and smiled at her, concealing well the misgivings that plagued her heart. “Ye are Elaine, a young novice who deceived my nephew out of love fer the king’s daughter. I will make certain that everyone at Camlochlin remembers it well.”

  Davina shook her head. “It will not work.”

  “It will if I say it will. Remember, I am the Devil MacGregor’s sister and I can be just as fearsome as he.”

  Through her tears, Davina couldn’t help smiling at the tiny woman in front of her. “I don’t doubt that.”

  “Ye would do well not to. Besides, Robert’s scheme could be successful. According to him, no one knows what ye look like. Even if the king does find ye, he cannot prove ye are his child, and will never set a possible commoner on the throne.” Maggie patted her hand. “So ye see, ye’ve nothing to fret over. Now dry yer tears. Ye have already won part of the battle. I like ye, lass. God willing, I believe ye can make Robert verra happy. But ye best brace yerself. Being the wife of a MacGregor is no easy task, as Kate will surely attest when ye meet her.”

  “Tell me about her,” Davina said, needing something to take her mind off the perilous position she had put Rob in. “I’ve heard much about Rob’s father, but only a little about Kate.”

  Maggie’s face went soft, proving that Rob’s mother held a special place in her heart. “She loved my brother at a time when ’twas a crime, punishable by death, to do so. Ye will have an ally in her.”

  God help her, Davina thought, as the possibility of a life here sank in once again. How would she ever measure up to the women of Camlochlin? She had to decide what to do once and for all and stick to it, no matter what the outcome.

  Her decision came easily when the door burst open and Rob plunged inside the room. Windblown and slightly out of breath, as if he’d raced the entire way home to be with her again, he ravished her soul and vanquished her fears. Unbidden memories of his naked body invaded her thoughts and she felt her cheeks grow hot. Lord, he was handsome, hard and lean, and so very… big.

  She almost laughed out loud when he scowled at Maggie and she scowled right back.

  “What are ye doin’ in here?” he demanded, clearly worried about what his aunt might have said to Davina. “I told ye this morn what I decided. I willna’ change—”

  “What are ye doing in here?” Maggie countered just as menacingly.

  “’Tis my room.”

  “Good, then ye’re familiar with the way out.”

  When he stubbornly stood his ground, Maggie rose off the bed wagging her finger at him. “Ye’re not wed yet, and until ye are, ye’ll not be seeing any more of her! Now out with ye so I can help her dress.”

  Rob looked over her head at Davina clinging to his blanket. Everything he wanted to tell her was there in his eyes, his tender expression. She smiled at him, feeling the same way, and he fumbled for the door. “The priest is here.”

  “Dragged him from his bed, did ye?” Maggie teased, laying a hand on his back to help him out. Before her nephew had a chance to answer, she closed the door in his face.

  “He loves you very much,” Davina told her when they were alone again.

  “Aye, and ye, as well.” Maggie grinned at her, then lifted her nose to the air and sniffed. “Is it just me, or does he smell like flowers?”

  * * *

  The castle was abuzz with activity by the time Davina descended the stairs with Maggie a few hours later. People bustling this way and that, set to chores that hurried them on their way. Women smiled when they passed her and the men looked her over approvingly while they hefted baskets of various foodstuffs to and from the kitchen.

  There was to be a celebration at Camlochlin today. Her wedding. Davina breathed deeply, but her hands still shook. She was going to do it. She was going to defy the king, deny her kingdom, and risk the consequences. She had no other choice. She would wither and vanish without Rob in her life. For the first time in her life she prayed that if her father ever set foot in Camlochlin he would not know her. Her days of pining over him, of yearning for a normal life, were over. Everything she had ever wanted, and more, were about to be hers.

  She smiled at Alice across the hall and lifted a self-conscious hand to her pinned-up hair.

  “Do I look acceptable?” she asked Maggie, trying to quell the thunder of her heart.

  “Ye look more ravishin’ than the Cuillins in winter.”

  Davina turned and gave Will her happiest smile. She missed him and his playful flirtations that made Rob brood and growl.

  “I chose the silver gown.” Maggie stepped back and surveyed her work with pride curling her lips. “It complements her coloring nicely. Look there, she has silver in her hair.”

  Will raised his gaze to the soft curls tumbling around her face and smiled. “Aye, I’ve noticed.”

  Davina blushed and looked around, expecting to see Rob behind her looking like he could crack Will in two with his bare hands.

  “You taunt him,” she accused with humor lifting her voice.

  “I enjoy watchin’ him lose his head. It reminds me that he’s just a man, like the rest of us.”

  Yes, Davina thought—not finding Rob in the crowd—that could be difficult to remember. “Is he in the church?”

  “He’ll be there when the time comes.”

  Davina nodded. That was the one thing she was certain of.

  “He’s…” Will’s eyes reflected the glimmer of her gown when he spotted a buxom girl hurrying toward the Great Hall. “… preparin’ some things.”

  “He’s a wolf,” Davina smiled, shaking her head after him when he took off in pursuit of the poor girl.

  “He’s a tame pup compared to Tristan,” Maggie huffed, then took her hand and pulled her down the hall. They were stopped by a lovely woman with a mane of golden curls and deep blue eyes. Her smile was warm, as was her hand when she clasped Davina’s.

  “So, this is Elaine, the lass who won Robert’s staunch heart! I am Aileen, Graham and Jamie’s sister.”

  “Saints, help us, he brought the MacLeods.” Maggie looked heavenward and slapped her hip.

  “Of course he did,” Aileen said, still smiling at Da—vina. “We are practically kin.”

  Davina saw the slight resemblance to Jamie and shared a word wit
h her until Maggie interrupted them.

  “Where is Jamie?”

  “He is with Faither Matheson in the cellars, prayin’ over someone, I think. I heard Brodie talkin’ aboot Last Rites.”

  The color drained from Davina’s face. Dear God, she’d forgotten about Edward! Was he locked in the cellars? Was he going to die on her wedding day? He had betrayed her trust and broken her heart, but she didn’t want him to die for it.

  “Maggie, I must find Rob!”

  “We’ll find him, sweeting. Don’t ye worry about it.”

  “No!” Davina clutched her arm. “I mean now. This moment. Before it’s too late!”

  “Before what’s too late?” Maggie grimaced and tugged her arm free of Davina’s taloned grasp. “What’s come over ye, gel?”

  “There he is now.”

  Davina followed Aileen’s finger and took off toward her future husband. They met halfway across the hall and Rob’s breath seemed to catch in his throat as he reached for her hands.

  “I didna’ think ye could ever be more bonnie than the day I took ye from St. Christopher’s, but I was wrong.”

  “Rob, where is Edward?”

  The warmth in his eyes vanished along with his smile. “Dinna’ concern yerself with him any longer, Davina. I’ve taken care of it.”

  “By killing him?”

  “He isna’ dead yet, but ’tis what he deserves.” He raised his voice an octave, then ground his jaw. “We will discuss it later.”

  “We will discuss it now!” She pulled her hands away from his and narrowly escaped him when he reached for her again. He was scowling in full force now. “Release him,” she said nonetheless.

  “Are ye mad? D’ye think I am?”

  “Please, Rob.”

  “Nae.”

  “I beg you, please.”