Dangerous Highlander ds-1

by Donna Grant

Cara shuddered at the thought.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Cara rose from the wooden tub and reached for the drying cloth. It had been a surprise to find the tub in her chamber filled with steaming hot water. She knew without a doubt Lucan had brought the tub and lugged the water up the stairs.

  She hadn’t realized how tired her body would be after the training she’d had that morning, but the bath had done wonders for her sore muscles.

  After luncheon, the rest of the day had flown by with Lucan showing her places to hide and various ways to get out of the castle. She doubted if she would remember them all, but he had said it was important.

  She was so weary she couldn’t remember eating supper, but she did recall it was another quiet affair. The only comment from Fallon was about the fish Quinn had caught being better than the fowl. She had gone into the kitchen to cook, but Quinn already had everything done. Since her body ached so, she didn’t complain. At least at the meal Quinn spoke, though he had nothing to say other than the castle was secure.

  Cara shook her head at that. There was no way three brothers, even immortal and powerful, could defend a ruined castle this size alone.

  She touched the silver vial that hung between her breasts. She had taken it off only once since her mother had put it around her neck. What was so important about her mother’s blood that Deirdre wanted it?

  Cara tried to remember the night her parents were killed, tried to recall if her mother had said anything else to her. Cara had been crying and unwilling to be put in the hole under the cottage. Her mother had been speaking the entire time, but Cara couldn’t remember a word she had said.

  Cara dropped the drying cloth and reached for the nightgown she had taken from the village. She had just slipped it over her head and let the hem fall to the floor when she heard Lucan call out her name.

  Part of her wondered what she would have done had he walked in when she was naked. The other part of her was glad he hadn’t because she would have made a fool out of herself, she was sure.

  “Aye,” she answered. “I’m here.”

  He moved from the shadows, his shoulders filling the doorway. “Do you feel better?” His voice was lower than normal, gruff, and filled with emotion. And God help her, it excited her.

  “I do.”

  He shifted to put his face in shadow, hiding his eyes from her. Cara took a step toward him and moved closer to the hearth at the same time.

  “We’re taking turns throughout the night keeping watch,” he said.

  “Even though you don’t believe they’ll attack tonight.”

  “Anything is possible, and it’s better to be safe.”

  She licked her lips and pleated her skirt with her fingers. The longer the silence stretched between them, the more aware of him she was. He stood still as stone, and even in the darkness she knew he watched her.

  “Say something,” she begged.

  “What?”

  “Anything.”

  In two strides he was before her, desire blazing in his eyes. Cara took a step back, startled at the intensity. He followed her. Her heart skidded in her chest; excitement and a little bit of fear swam through her. She took another step back, and just as she expected, he tracked her.

  Her breath came quick, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she waited. A heartbeat later, his arms snaked around her, yanking her against his rock-hard chest.

  “Are you a witch, Cara?” He nuzzled her neck, the vibrations of his voice making her shiver.

  “N . . . nay.”

  “You’ve bewitched me. I can think of nothing but you.”

  His gaze met hers before he lowered his head and took her mouth. He nibbled and licked her lips, molding her body against his as he did. Her arms wound around his neck. She loved the feel of his hard muscles moving beneath her hands.

  She rose up on her toes and parted her lips when he sought entry. He moaned, a primitive male sound, when their tongues touched.

  Cara melted against him, all her fears and worries gone, replaced by passion and pleasure. He pushed her against the wall, his body never breaking contact with hers. The kiss deepened, grew until her skin felt as if it were on fire.

  Lucan clutched Cara against him, reveling in the feel of her soft curves. All day he had longed to kiss her again, to see if he could feel another jolt as he had at their first kiss. He hadn’t been wrong. The jolt was there, and stronger.

  But he hadn’t intended to kiss her again. He had come to tell her he was taking first watch, but when he glanced inside the chamber and saw her naked beside the tub, he had lost all control.

  In the darkness of the corridor he had gathered the shadows around him and watched her dry off, and had nearly cried out when she covered her spectacular curves with the plain white gown. Until she stood before the fire and he saw through the material.

  He had grown so hard that it was painful. Walking away hadn’t been a consideration. Having her, however, was.

  Lucan groaned when her plump breasts pressed against his chest. His hunger consumed him, urged him to take more of her, taste more of her. He ground his cock against her and heard her soft moan of pleasure.

  He cupped her breasts, loving the delicious weight of the orbs and how they filled his hands. He ran his thumb over her nipple, circling it until the tiny nub was hard and straining.

  Cara whimpered into his mouth, her kiss turning desperate as her body writhed against him. He kissed down the slender column of her throat and continued to tease her nipple. Her hands plunged into his hair, holding his head.

  “Lucan,” she murmured.

  The sound of his name on her lips burned him. It had been an eternity since a woman had said his name with passion and longing.

  His hands moved to her hips, holding her as he rubbed his aching rod into the soft swell of her stomach. He clutched her buttocks and brought her against him, fitting her sex against his. Her startled gasp turned into a low moan.

  The need to bury himself inside her hot, slick sex consumed him, drove him. He brought her leg up, holding it just behind her knee, and continued to thrust against her. Her soft moans had turned to mewling sounds, her hot breath on his neck as he lifted her higher.

  He bent and closed his mouth around one pert nipple, licking it through the material of her gown. She whispered his name, her body shaking with a need she didn’t understand. But Lucan did. He knew the seductive pleasure that awaited them, and he couldn’t wait to have her bared before him, her body open to him in all her glory.

  His orgasm was so close, and he had gone without for so long, that he would spill his seed if he didn’t enter her now or leave. Cara was untouched. Of that he was sure. He couldn’t make her first time wild and painful, and that’s exactly what it would be, since he couldn’t get ahold of himself.

  “Don’t stop,” she whispered. “Don’t ever stop.”

  Lucan groaned and moved his mouth to her other nipple, biting down on the little peak. She cried out, her body jerking against his.

  His control was about to snap. The god inside him grew unruly, demanding release from the lust that pounded through Lucan. He could feel his skin changing, his claws and teeth lengthening. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the shadows moving toward him, the darkness closing around him as his powers surged.

  He jerked away from Cara and stumbled backward. She grabbed hold of the wall to keep standing and looked at him with confused, passion-filled mahogany eyes.

  “Lucan? Did I do something wrong?”

  God’s blood! “Nay, Cara. Never.”

  “Then why did you stop?”

  “Because if I didna, I was going to take you.”

  She licked her kiss-swollen lips, making his balls tighten. “I . . . I want you to take me.”

  He clenched his hands into fists. “Not like this. It’s been too long for me. I can’t control the hunger I have for you, and I would hurt you.”

  “Nay, you wouldn’t.”

  Her faith in him humble
d him. But he knew he would hurt her in his craze to fill her. He was grateful to see the shadows and darkness had receded. Fallon had been right. Cara deserved a good man, a mortal man. Not one filled with Apodatoo—a primeval god of revenge.

  “Get some sleep,” Lucan said, and backed into the shadows of the corridor. “I will protect you.”

  When he was concealed in the shadows, he watched her as he had done earlier. The anguish in her eyes made him feel like the monster he was. When she locked her arms around herself and rocked back and forth, it nearly brought Lucan to his knees.

  He had been the one to bring out her passion. And he had left her in a state of agony, her body unused to the feelings bubbling within her.

  Lucan knew he should go back in and bring her to climax, but he didn’t trust himself. He was still too close to the edge himself. Instead, he watched until she calmed enough to light every candle in the chamber and crawl into bed.

  His bed.

  He dropped his head back against the stones and silently cursed. He wanted her in his bed, to feel her legs wrap around him as he buried himself so deep inside her that he touched her womb. He wanted to hear her scream his name as she peaked, to feel her body clench around him and drain him dry as he spilled his seed inside her.

  When he was in control enough to look at her without ripping the gown from her, he opened his eyes to find her breathing had evened into sleep.

  Only then did he leave her.

  * * *

  Quinn stood in the bailey and flexed his shoulders, his body tensing as he held himself in check. Night had descended over the land, the moon just a sliver among the twinkling stars. He needed to prowl, to run the Highlands as he normally did on nights when he couldn’t face himself.

  He would run, the wind stinging his eyes, as he gave in to his primal urges and forgot the man he was.

  The man I used to be.

  He cursed Deirdre and her wyrran who had taken away his life and his family. Elspeth had been pure and sweet, shy to everyone except him. With him, she had opened up and let him see how much love she had to give. With him, she had shown him a simple life of happiness and harmony.

  She had loved him deeply. In her own way. How many nights had he drifted off to sleep with her in his arms only to hear her whisper that she loved him, that he was her everything?

  Quinn had never told her he loved her. Elspeth hadn’t seemed to expect it or want it. Now he wondered if she had been hoping and waiting for him to say the words or if he had just thought she didn’t need them.

  The idea that she had suffered, that he hadn’t made it before she died, only made the ache inside him burn deeper. After all these years, he still felt the loss of her and his son, a son he would never teach to shoot a bow and arrow, never teach to ride a horse, never teach how to wield a sword.

  Resentment blazed through him. He would make Deirdre pay. She would die slowly by his hands for all the heartache she had caused in her thirst for dominance. He would see the life drain from her face, see her blood pool on the ground just as Elspeth’s had.

  Lucan had taken first watch, and Fallon was inside the castle with his wine. Quinn couldn’t stay in the castle as Lucan and Fallon did. There were too many memories around every corner that drove his rage higher each day.

  It wouldn’t be much longer before the god inside Quinn took over completely. He would be gone. And maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. He had suffered too much, endured too much, to want to go on. Knowing he was immortal only made the days more unbearable.

  It was one of the reasons he took such risks. Neither of his brothers said anything because they understood. But they didn’t feel the pain as he did. They hadn’t lost a wife and a son. They hadn’t lost their entire life.

  Quinn’s head jerked as his ears picked up a sound. Deer. He reached for his bow and arrow that he kept near the castle door and moved into the shadows.

  The brothers didn’t hunt often for fear of being seen, but with Angus no longer around to bring them food, hunting was a necessity now.

  Quinn smiled. He wouldn’t be running the Highlands, but he would be hunting a worthy prey.

  * * *

  Lucan sat atop a crumbling tower on the left front of the castle. It wasn’t the highest tower, but it afforded a good view of the MacClure village. Not to mention, it gave Lucan a vantage point if any more Warriors decided to attack.

  They wouldn’t, not tonight. But soon.

  Lucan shifted on the rocks and spotted a buck near the cliffs. He tensed, wondering if he should get his bow. They were going to need food, and killing a buck with his claws was too messy. Even Quinn, when he hunted, chose to use his bow. It allowed them to keep their bodies active, which was why they continued to train with their swords.

  Just as he was about to retrieve his bow, Lucan saw movement in a shadow outside the castle wall. A moment later, Quinn drew back his bow and let an arrow fly, finding the mark in the buck’s neck. Quinn was next to the deer before it had collapsed.

  Lucan watched his younger brother. He missed the days of laughter and teasing with his brothers. If there was any way to help Quinn with the pain he carried, Lucan would gladly do it. But Quinn never spoke of Elspeth. He never even said his son’s name.

  Lucan ached for Quinn, just as he ached for Fallon. There was only so much Lucan could do for both, and it wasn’t enough. He was losing his brothers, had been losing them for some time now, and he was powerless to stop it. Nothing he did, nothing he said, helped them.

  He rubbed his jaw and jerked when he saw a flicker of a flame in the village. A glance toward Quinn told Lucan his brother had also seen something. Quinn jumped over the side of the cliff to the rocks below, the buck flung over his shoulders.

  Lucan shifted to his feet, his knees bent and his hands on the stones. Quinn would get safely back in the castle to alert Fallon.

  With his ears straining over the roar of the sea, Lucan listened for sounds from the village. He heard the stamp of a horse’s hoof, the cough of a man, but how many he didn’t know.

  Lucan glanced around the castle to make sure there was nothing that would cause the men to come there. When Lucan saw the light from Cara’s window he froze. It was far enough back that it would be difficult to see from the village, but not impossible. It was a risk they couldn’t take.

  Lucan jumped from the edge of the tower to the stairs below. He had always hated the narrow, curving staircase, and now most of the top of the tower crumbling on the stairs made them even more difficult to tread.

  He kept his hand on the walls as he raced down the stairs to the corridor. When he stopped at the doorway to his chamber, he prayed Cara was asleep. Her fear of the dark would never let her allow him to extinguish the candles and the fire.

  Candle by candle, he snuffed out the flames with his thumb and forefinger until there was only one left. He couldn’t help but look at Cara then. She was on her side facing away from him, her curves outlined by the blanket that hugged her body. Her braid fell across the pillow with tendrils of hair curling around her ears and neck.

  With the last candle doused, he turned to the fire. Thankfully, all the wood had already burned and only the embers were left. He quickly covered them and strode to the door.

  Only to halt midstride when Cara turned over.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Cara sighed and snuggled beneath the blanket. She had been having a delicious dream where Lucan was in her chamber watching her sleep, his sea green eyes filled with heat, with need . . . with hunger.

  She wasn’t sure what woke her, but as she turned onto her back and saw the chamber was cloaked in darkness, she flung off the covers. Panic wrapped its iron manacles around her, turning her blood to ice and causing her heart to pound in her chest.

  A startled cry passed from her lips when she saw that not even an ember burned in the hearth. For a moment she could only stare at the candles, her eyes filling with tears. The candles didn’t burn out and neither had a gust of wind
blown them out. Nay, someone had extinguished them.

  It was too dark, too still. Anything could be in the chamber. One of the Warriors or even a wyrran. The prospect sent a shiver down her spine. Either she could sit in the bed and wonder or she could light the candles again.

  She started to rise from the bed when something heavy and solid landed on top of her, trapping her against the straw mattress. She fought whatever it was, raking her fingernails down his arm, hitting him, and even trying to bite him.

  She could hear a voice but couldn’t make out the words. And she didn’t want to. There was no way the monster on top of her was going to kill her without a fight. She kicked and opened her mouth to scream for Lucan.

  Suddenly a hand captured her wrists, jerking them over her head while another hand clamped over her mouth. She stilled, fear clawing at her belly. He leaned close, his breath against her neck. She turned her face away and closed her eyes.

  “It’s me, Cara. It’s Lucan.”

  She sagged into the bed, relief flooding her. He removed his hand, his fingers brushing her lips in a soft caress. Cara became aware of his body between her legs, his hard arousal against her sex.

  “It’s too dark,” she whispered. “I need the light.”

  He shook his head, his hair brushing her cheek as it fell on either side of his head. “There is someone at the village. We cannot chance them seeing a light and coming here.”

  She understood what he said and why he had snuffed out her candles, but she was in the grip of terror and had to have the candles burning. “Please, Lucan. Let me up. I’ll light only one candle. I need it.”

  “Cara—”

  “Please,” she begged when she heard his firm voice.

  “Nay.”

  “I have to have it.” She pulled her arms to try to break out of his grip. He held her firmly without hurting her, but it only infuriated her. “Lucan.”

  He moved his other hand with the first to hold her. “Cara. I’m with you. Nothing is going to hurt you.”

  But she knew firsthand what kind of things lingered in the dark. They were there, she knew it. Only the light would prove that she was safe.