Highlander Entangled

by Vonda Sinclair

  The west wind from the sea blew hard over Loch Moidart. And 'twas much colder today than it had been only a few days earlier. Winter was certainly on the way.

  He would have to return to Rhodie Castle soon, before the weather turned severe. But he didn't want to leave. Everything was completely unresolved for him. With each new moment he spent with Kristina, he was more and more drawn to her beautiful soul. But could they build a life together? Even though he knew she had a passionate spirit… was she physically too fragile to cope with a regular life as someone's wife… as his wife?

  He knew not what to do. His life had become both incredibly joyful and turbulent since he'd met her. He wished he could see into the future to know how everything would turn out.

  ***

  Holme and his two comrades watched Rhodie Castle from the cover of the wood, as they had been doing for days. He hated hiding out like an outlaw, stealing food from the nearby village to survive. He had to do what he'd set out to do soon or go mad with the anticipation. The need for revenge slithered through his veins like so many vipers. He kept seeing Colin Cameron's face, the way he'd looked when he'd first snatched Kristina from him—the look of a fierce and determined warrior.

  Holme could be equally fierce and determined when he wanted something.

  The distant clang of the Rhodie Castle portcullis being raised riveted his attention. "Nock your arrow," Holme whispered to Dobson. "Scroggie, hold the horses at the ready."

  He followed Dobson a few yards farther along to a position with a better line of sight. Whoever had left the castle would have to pass this spot.

  As he watched the four riders drawing closer, he realized that the middle-aged man with the graying beard who rode in the center of the three younger guards was indeed Maitland Cameron, the chief. He remembered him from years ago.

  "This is our chance," Holme whispered, his heart pounding with eagerness. "Shoot the bastard in the middle—the one with the gray beard and red sash."

  Aiming, Dobson drew the bow back and let fly the arrow. It struck a tree limb with a snap and went askew.

  "Damnation," Holme hissed, grabbing the bow from Dobson's hand. "Give me an arrow."

  Luckily for him, the horses' hooves pounding the dirt road covered the sound of the arrow hitting the limb.

  After he quietly sprinted to a better position, he nocked the arrow and aimed, making sure no tree limbs blocked the line of sight. He released the arrow at precisely the right moment. It flew straight, striking the Cameron chief in the lower abdomen.

  Holme couldn't believe it. He was stunned for a moment, unable to move.

  Pandemonium broke out below. The chief shouted, and his horse danced about. The guards went berserk, yelling. Two of them leapt off their mounts and dragged the bleeding chief from his horse, the arrow still embedded in his lower abdomen.

  Holding a targe before him, the other guard rode closer. "Assassins in the wood! Get him back inside the walls!"

  "Let's go." Filled with dark satisfaction, Holme ducked low and ran toward Scroggie and the horses. Finally, he had avenged his father.

  As Holme mounted, the distant shouts still echoed. No doubt all the Cameron guards would be riding through this spot in a matter of moments. Assassination of a chief was not taken lightly.

  "Ride as fast as you can," Holme warned. "If they catch us, they will not let us live."

  Chapter Twelve

  At Neacal and Anna's wedding the next evening, Kristina enjoyed Colin escorting her into the chapel.

  "You look lovely, Kristina," he whispered as he led her toward the place where she would stand as Anna's maid of honor.

  Her face warmed. "I thank you."

  She did not want to release his warm, strong arm but knew she had to, for he had to stand on the opposite side as Neacal's best man.

  The chapel was cold, and she missed the heat of her bedchamber fireplace. During the night, the weather had turned extremely chilly.

  Bagpipes skirled from the courtyard outside as Jules, the piper, led the bridal procession from the keep toward the chapel. Many of the shrill sounds were carried away on the blustery, cold wind before they reached her ears. He continued playing outside the door of the chapel while footsteps approached. Kristina imagined Anna approaching on the arm of her mentor, the elderly musician, Eli.

  Neacal did not yet trust Ralston to escort Anna, as her brother—if what he'd said was true, and Kristina believed it was. But she could understand Neacal's wariness. Both he and Colin were equally reluctant to allow Kristina to get close to him. They said they would permit Ralston to watch the ceremony from the back of the chapel, though his hands would be bound.

  Once the ceremony was underway, Kristina listened as Anna and Neacal exchanged the traditional Highland wedding vows. The beautiful love they shared emanated from them like an intoxicating mist wafting over a field of heather in full bloom. She did not need to see them to know of their devotion to one another. Anna's voice caught with emotion as she repeated the vows.

  Equally touching were Neacal's heartfelt vows to Anna, for Kristina knew he meant them. He would always protect her, cherish her and make her life as wonderful as he could. She did not doubt his sincerity. As joyous and grateful as she was for Anna's happiness, Kristina knew she would never be able to experience such a marriage herself, though she wanted to with every fiber of her being. 'Twas better not to dream at all, rather than dream and know the wish could not come true.

  If she were a normal woman with sight and smooth skin, Colin would be the man she would select for a husband, but no man, especially a future chief, would want a blind, scarred wife to help him lead a clan or run a castle. And even if he claimed to, she would not saddle him with such a burden of responsibility. His father, the chief, would not approve, nor would his clan. In addition to her disabilities, she was also penniless, with no dowry. She had no clan alliances to offer a chief.

  Kristina dried her eyes and held her head high. She refused to wallow in self-pity. She would focus on Anna's happiness and, with Maili's help, sing a special song for her sister and her new husband once they were in the great hall.

  During the final prayer, she closed her eyes and blotted them, determined to feel happy. Once it was over, she lifted her head and forced her lips to curve upward into a small smile.

  "I present to you Chief and Lady MacDonald," the priest announced jovially.

  A cheer of excitement echoed from the rafters. Tears of joy sprang to her eyes, for she was happy the MacDonald clan accepted her sister with such enthusiasm.

  She dried her eyes, and a moment later, she recognized Colin's warm, strong hand on her arm. Her smile broadened. She couldn't help it. No matter her future, Colin still made her smile.

  "Are you well, Kristina?"

  "Aye, of course." She was now. She hoped he hadn't seen her tears of sadness, but something told her he had… his tone of voice, maybe.

  He tucked her arm into his bent elbow, next to the bulging muscle of his upper arm, and led her from the chilly chapel into the even colder wind. The cobblestones were uneven, and though she tried to concentrate on lifting her feet high enough not to trip on them, Colin's magnetism snagged her attention. The second time she stumbled, he halted and lifted her into his arms.

  "Oh, goodness. I'm sorry I'm so clumsy." Her face heated at her own inadequacy. She wanted to be a graceful lady in Colin's eyes.

  "Nonsense, love. These stones are so rough, I don't know how sighted people walk across them without falling."

  What on earth? He had called her love. Pressing her eyes closed, she laid her head against his upper chest, absorbing the feel of that endearment and the heat of him. He had a beautiful, bright soul that made her feel treasured.

  "Here we are." At the top of the entry steps, he placed her onto her feet and led her into the warm great hall. The delicious scents of the wedding feast reached her.

  "Have I told you how gorgeous you are this day?" he whispered into her ear. His hot bre
ath stirred yearnings inside her.

  "You are too kind, sir." Finally, she was starting to be able to accept compliments from him, because she trusted him. She believed he considered her attractive, when other people didn't. Even if most others focused on her scar, Colin saw beyond it. Just as she could feel that he was handsome, even if she couldn't see him. She wanted to tell him, but a loud cheer went up for the chief and his new bride.

  Colin helped her onto the dais and seated her at the high table between Anna and Maili. She had not known Neacal's sister long, but she had become friends with her quickly.

  Maili grasped her hand and whispered, "Are you nervous about singing?"

  "Nay, are you?"

  "Aye, a wee bit. I'm not used to performing."

  "But this is your clan. You should not be nervous."

  "I ken 'tis silly of me, but for years they didn't accept me and my gift of second sight. I suppose I still fear their ridicule."

  Kristina could understand that. She always feared people would ridicule her scar and blindness, as well. But she wanted to do this for her sister and her new husband.

  After the priest said grace, Colin stood and began speaking, his deep, resonant voice echoing over the silent hall. "Let's raise a glass… to my best friend and foster brother. If anyone deserves love and happiness, 'tis you, Chief Neacal MacDonald, for you've endured more pain than any of us can imagine. And to the new Lady Anna MacDonald, I've come to realize what a remarkable, strong and caring woman you are, the perfect healing balm to my friend's battle wounds. And I thank you for that. Neacal and Anna, may all of your days be happy ones. Great health and every good blessing to you. Slàinte mhaith."

  A cheer went up while many glasses, tankards and cups clanged together.

  When everyone grew silent again, Kristina whispered to Maili, "Is it time?"

  "Aye." Maili took Kristina's hand and stood. "Instead of a toast, we will sing a song for our brother and sister."

  The minstrels stood to the side of the high table and accompanied them. Kristina had memorized the song, Tabhair dom do Lámh, years ago. She and Maili had only practiced the song together twice but to her ear, it sounded perfect.

  After they finished, applause, shouts and whistles of approval exploded. Feeling her face heat with joy and gratitude, Kristina smiled.

  ***

  Hours later, after eating and drinking all she could, Kristina remained at the high table as the din in the great hall grew—laughter, shouts and music. The clansmen carried Neacal off to join his new bride in the bedchamber.

  Kristina didn't know how she would feel if she were a bride awaiting her new husband. Without doubt, she would feel excited and happy, if it was a man she wanted to marry, but also mortified that the whole of the clan would know what was taking place above stairs.

  Soon the grumbling men clomped down the stairs again. By the sounds of their slurred voices, 'twas clear they had already drunk too much whisky and ale.

  She had not gone up with Anna earlier to assist her in preparing for her wedding night because she would've felt in the way. Being unable to see, she couldn't help her sister undress or put on her new night rail. She couldn't style her hair. In addition, since Anna was a widow, she already knew about the wedding night activities, while Kristina did not. Anna actually preferred that she wait down here for Maili and the rest of the women to return.

  Colin must have been amongst the men carting Neacal off to the chamber. Amid the lively dance music, she heard the sounds of many stamping feet as the dancing began anew.

  "Lady Kristina?"

  She started at the sound of Colin's deep voice just behind her left side. She turned her head.

  "Could I have the next dance?"

  Joy and appreciation sparked tears in her eyes. Turning her head away again, she blinked at the stinging moisture, lest he see. "I'm not a very good dancer," she said. "I tend to stamp on feet, bump into the others, and create chaos."

  "I'll not let that happen. You can hold onto my hands or my shoulders, and place your feet on mine, if you wish, like a wee lass."

  She heard the smile in his voice, and that made her want to smile, too. "If you promise to not allow me to embarrass myself," she said.

  "Of course."

  As she arose from her seat, the music slowed to a ballad. Thank the saints. This sort of dance would be far easier for her. She learned to dance more than a decade ago, and she hoped she remembered how.

  Colin lifted her down from the dais, then slipped her arm through his as he led her to the dance floor. Facing her, he placed her hands on his shoulders, then clasped her waist.

  "Put your feet on mine," he whispered in her ear.

  Hesitating at first, she did as he asked, hoping she wasn't too heavy upon his toes. At least her slippers were soft. She matched her movements to his and it seemed they moved as one. In this slow dance, gliding around the dance floor with Colin felt good, and joy permeated every fiber of her being.

  "You're a good dancer," he said, loud enough to be heard over the music.

  She grinned. "'Tis because you're doing all the work."

  "I don't know about that, but I do know you have a beautiful smile," Colin said.

  "I thank you. Are you smiling?"

  "Aye."

  She did indeed hear the amusement in his voice now. "I wish I knew what your smile looked like." Just that statement alone snatched away her good mood and drew her downward, for she would never know, really. Certainly, she could imagine what his smile might look like, but she could be completely wrong.

  "I'll let you feel it, if you wish," he murmured into her ear, his hot breath giving her shivers. Before she could ask what he meant, he gently lifted her off his feet, took her arm and guided her off the dance floor and away to a cooler area where the music was lower. A door clunked shut, muffling the music.

  "Where are we?" she asked.

  "The library." His voice was a deep, husky murmur.

  "I remember now. So you're tired of dancing already?" she asked to cover her sudden giddiness at being alone with him.

  "You ken better." He took her hands and raised them. He kissed the backs and then her palms. Chills skittered up her arms and across her chest, near making her sigh. With her fingertips, she took the liberty to explore his square jaw and lean face, with its short, scratchy stubble, and his sensual lips. He was smiling, and somehow she sensed it was genuine.

  He leaned closer and brushed his lips across hers, then gave her a dreamy but too brief kiss.

  That felt so good she slid her hands around his neck and into his thick hair, then drew him closer. She could not resist the vibrant feel of him, so exciting. He smelled of delectable wine, cinnamon and cloves.

  Gently and with great deliberation, he took her mouth in a consuming kiss, making her drunk on the spiced wine taste of him.

  He lifted her onto the hard wooden table, surprising her. This raised her higher so that she could more easily reach his mouth. Wickedly, he teased her tongue with his. She could not get enough of his intoxicating mouth. Every kiss made her desire him more. If his kiss was this wonderful, what would making love be like?

  She pulled back an inch and whispered against his mouth, "I want you to show me."

  "Show you what?" His voice was raspy and heated.

  "What it is like… between a man and a woman."

  "Damnation, Kristina," he hissed. "I wish you wouldn't say things like that. 'Tis hard enough to resist you as it is."

  She clasped her hands onto his doublet. "I don't wish you to resist."

  "You are an untouched maiden," he growled.

  "'Tis why I want you to teach me. Otherwise, I may never experience it."

  "You will one day—"

  "Nay. I'm only interested in now," she muttered. "I want you to kiss me and… touch me. Reveal to me what a man does to a woman in the bedchamber. What you did to me before was breathtaking, but that was only a taste, I'm thinking."

  "Damnation. You tempt m
e beyond reason," he said through clenched teeth.

  "Good." She smiled, reached down and tugged his kilt upward.

  He caught her hand, holding it in his, then kissed her lips again. Afterward, she was dizzy.

  "Wait here," he said, prying her fingers off his kilt. His footsteps crossed the room and a lock clicked. "We don't want any interruptions."

  "I agree."

  When he returned, he urged her to lie back.

  "What are you doing? Will we couple on this table?"

  He chuckled. "You are too curious by far."

  He pushed her skirts upward, past her knees and her thighs. The heat of embarrassment consumed her face while a different sort of wicked heat flamed over her body. His warm hands on her thighs, spreading them, felt positively sinful. She did not know what he was about, but she hoped he would teach her what it meant to be a woman, full grown.

  Her most sensual parts were exposed to him, although she had no inkling how much light was in this room or what he might see. Before she could worry over it, something touched her delicate flesh. His mouth?

  "Good heavens! Colin?"

  "Shh." He blew his hot breath upon her. Then he treated her like a sweet comfit, licking and suckling on some highly sensitive place she had no name for. The sensations were extreme and exquisite, making her mad with wanting something only he could give her.

  "Colin!"

  "You must be quiet, or I'll be forced to stop."

  She bit her lip. Though what he was doing was scandalous, she never wanted him to stop. Never! 'Twas the best thing she had ever felt. He continued with the delicious torment while she twisted, squirmed and tugged at his doublet sleeves.

  She felt herself being drawn upward toward the peak of this intensity. The white-hot desire exploded, and she screamed a second before she felt Colin's hand over her mouth. Quiet, she remembered, turning her shouts to low moans.

  Before she could recover, Colin dragged her up and wrapped her arms around his neck. She gasped for breath, trying to regain her wits. The first thing she realized was that he hadn't taken her. He had only teased and tormented her.