Kissing the Highlander

by Terry Spear

  "I doubt he will have any memory of it," Shamus said. "You must go back to your chamber, Maili, and act as if naught happened." Shamus secured Dugan's baldric, sword and dirk onto himself.

  She chewed on her fingernail. "Take me with you," she whispered.

  "Nay. I cannot. I told you. 'Twould be kidnapping."

  She shook her head. "Not if I go willingly. Please. My brother will punish me severely for this. He will beat me."

  "He will not know."

  "Aye, he will. He kens well I have brought you many meals. The guard will awaken and remember that I bashed him on the head."

  Giving her a dark look of regret, Shamus clenched his jaw. "I must go now before 'tis noticed the guard is gone." He proceeded up the steps toward the exit. She followed as quietly as she could but her breaths came in harsh gasps, not from exertion but from fear. She had to help Shamus escape these walls. This was best for him and her own clan, to protect them from his brother. But now she feared for her own life.

  "I brought food," she said, walking briskly behind him toward the stables. Her gaze scanning the bailey, she saw no one about. Most were preparing for supper or serving the meal in the great hall.

  "I thank you." Shamus slipped behind a post. "Where is it?"

  "In a satchel, hidden in my arisaid. I'm coming with you."

  "I told you nay, Maili. You will slow me down," he said in a fierce whisper.

  She felt as if he'd knifed her in the heart.

  "Do not look at me thus," he ordered in a quiet tone.

  "I helped you. You're not willing to help me?"

  "You'll be much safer here with your clan than you could ever be with me, on the run. I have no notion how I'll get back to my clan's lands. I have no galley. The land is rugged and the mountains high if I must go inland."

  "I will keep up. I am strong." Tears burned her eyes.

  "Maili," he beseeched her.

  "You kissed me. I thought you cared."

  "Of course, I care. 'Tis why I want you to stay where you'll be safe. If your brother gives chase, you could be injured."

  She shook her head. "I know the area better than you. I know the best hiding places. I have a horse, and besides that, I have the keys to the postern gate."

  "Give them to me."

  "Nay."

  The portcullis clanged, opening slowly.

  Shamus moved behind the stable wall. Maili followed, covering her head with the plaid of her arisaid.

  Three riders entered and dismounted before the stables.

  "See to our horses, lad," one of the men snapped at Finnian. All three hastened toward the great hall.

  Finnian took one of the horses inside.

  Shamus slipped forward and took the bridle of another.

  Maili shook her head. "These horses are tired. My horse is rested and already saddled."

  While Shamus hid behind the corner of the stables, Maili went inside and led out her large gelding.

  Once she returned, she held out her hand to Shamus. "Here is the key for the postern gate. You go out that way and meet me between here and the village. Hide behind the bushes. I'll ride the horse through the gates and along the road."

  Shamus nodded and headed away from her. She prayed he would not be seen and that the guards would not detain her.

  Once she was perched upon Ruairi's back, she headed for the gates.

  "I'm going to the village to visit a sick child," she told the two guards on duty. 'Twas naught unusual, for she had done this several times before, but she rarely rode out this late.

  One nodded and they raised the portcullis. She tapped her heels against the horse's flank and he quickened his pace. Just before the village, she paused and glanced about the bushes. Where was Shamus?

  "Shamus," she hissed.

  Glancing behind, she discovered him, running to catch up to her. Breathing hard, he paused beside her, then leapt on behind. The horse startled, dancing about and snorting.

  Stroking Ruairi's neck, she tried to soothe him. "Shh, lad. 'Twill be all right."

  "Let us be off before your brother discovers what's happened," Shamus murmured, his breath warming her ear.

  Hiding her shiver of awareness, she guided the horse through the bushes and trees, around the edge of the village. She certainly didn't wish to have any witnesses to their escape.

  Excitement raced through her veins, for she had avoided marrying Sleat, and she was on the run with a fine-looking warrior.

  She did not know if Shamus would ever wish to marry her, but she'd try to convince him of her value as a wife. With him, she would always feel safe and cared for. She hadn't known him long but she knew he was a good man… and an expert at kissing.

  "Your brother will be expecting us to travel north, toward MacKenzie territory," Shamus said, his warm breath sending delicious chills racing down her neck and across her breasts. "We need to head south and find a wee galley."

  Amid the chaos of sensation storming through her, it took a moment for his words to register. Such a galley would be too small for her horse to board. She turned her head toward him. "I cannot leave Ruairi."

  "Who?"

  "My horse."

  "'Twould be for the best, else your brother will accuse me of horse thievery along with kidnapping a lady. Do you wish me to hang?"

  "Of course not! 'Tis my horse, a gift to me, personally, from my father. 'Tis not stealing if I take it myself."

  "Very well. I'll have to think on it. Mayhap we can take a larger galley."

  She nodded.

  The longer they rode through the growing darkness, the closer Shamus sat against her. Or maybe she had slid back in the saddle, trying to absorb some of his warmth. She loved how protective he felt nestled tightly against her. Aye, that was it, though she wasn't truly afraid.

  Regardless, his hard body rocking and stroking against her back bewitched her and near put her into a trance.

  The wind picked up, blowing harder. He draped his plaid around them both, making her feel cozy and tingly. She wished they were lying before a warm fireplace on a sheepskin rug, snuggling naked beneath his plaid. What naughty things might he teach her?

  ***

  Shamus wrapped his arms around Maili, holding the plaid in place and warming her in the windy darkness. He prayed a storm was not blowing in off the sea. Thus far, the sky was clear with only a cloud here and there.

  He was glad for the excuse to hold her. 'Twas the first time he had done so, and though she was much smaller than his own tall frame, she fit perfectly in his arms. With the wind and their mad dash across the moor, the cowl of her arisaid had slipped off her head. He restrained the urge to kiss her ear and her neck. Surely the skin was as soft and smooth as velvet. He could not believe the excitement and arousal drumming through him.

  He pressed his nose close to her hair. Her wondrous female scent stirred his desires, making him yearn to drag her back hard against his chest. She would feel so good lying upon him. A groan escaped him.

  She turned her head. "Are you in pain?"

  He choked back a laugh. "Nay." His voice sounded too rough to his own ears.

  He hadn't meant to bring her with him. He could've said something scathing and harsh and she would've stayed back there. But he couldn't hurt her like that. Besides, her malicious brother might have punished her if he'd discovered she'd helped Shamus escape. He couldn't stand the thought of anyone hurting her. She was so small and delicate, like a fairy lass. Indeed, she stole his good sense away, causing him to want to do anything she wished.

  The moon was high in the sky when tall silhouettes came into view on a hill in the distance.

  "What is that?" Shamus whispered into her ear.

  "Clachan nan Sìtheach. The standing stone circle."

  He had seen only one before in his life, a relic left over from the ancient past. Had it been built by their distant ancestors, or the fairies, as many believed?

  A sudden shout echoed behind them, drifting on the harsh wind. A
horse's neigh.

  Dread surged through him. "God's teeth, they're not far behind us."

  Chapter 7

  Hand on his sword hilt, Shamus turned to look back toward the shouting but saw nothing in the darkness. He couldn't believe her clan had noticed their absence so quickly.

  Maili urged her horse to a faster pace. They raced toward the hill.

  "I must hide you." Shamus was far more concerned for her safety than his own. "If they find you, tell them I kidnapped you and forced you to come with me."

  "Nay, I will not." Sounding panicked, she drew up. "Come. Dismount." Maili slid off the horse. "We'll both hide."

  Shamus followed suit. Though he would not normally hide from challengers, he was greatly outnumbered this time. "Where?"

  "Among the standing stones and gorse bushes at the top of the hill. My clan won't go up there. They believe anyone who trespasses in the fairies' domain will be cursed."

  "And you don't believe this?" he asked.

  "Nay. I have been here before. If the fairies live here, they don't mind my visits." She led the horse up the hill into the circle. Shamus followed, spending half his time staring back toward the trail but seeing naught.

  "You stay here and hide," he murmured. "I'll take the horse and ride on. They'll follow me and you can safely return to the castle." Though he did not want to leave her, 'twould be the best for her.

  "Nay. I'll not have you accused of stealing a horse," she said in a fierce whisper.

  "They'll not capture me," he assured her.

  "Then why did we simply not ride on? I won't slow you down."

  Damnation, Shamus could think of no ideal solution.

  For a moment, all was silent save the wind and the horse chomping grass. Fortunately, the bushes here were tall enough to hide the horse.

  "Will he stay quiet?" Shamus asked.

  "Aye. I believe so."

  Peering around a tall stone, Shamus watched as torches came into view around the bend. A dog's bark echoed through the night.

  "Saints, they're tracking me with a dog," Shamus said, his stomach knotting.

  "Don't fash. I doused the cell with whisky and you brought all your clothes with you."

  "The dog could be tracking you."

  "Oh, blast," she whispered. "I didn't think of that."

  The dog might smell either of their scents, or even the horse's. Fortunately, they were downwind at the moment.

  The dog and her clansmen swiftly passed by along the trail, the men sounding loud and unruly as if they were ready for battle. He could not see all of them by the light of a few torches, but suspected there were more than a dozen.

  Soon, they were gone, moving inland.

  "'Tis surprising the dog didn't smell us," Shamus said.

  "This is a magical place, you ken." Maili sat on the ground and he joined her, sitting close enough for his arm to brush hers. How cozy this was, she thought, sitting here, sheltered from the wind and the eyes of her clan among the gorse bushes and standing stones with the most appealing man she'd ever met.

  "Indeed?" he asked, skepticism and amusement clear in his voice. "Magical?"

  "Of course. Do you not believe in things you cannot see or touch?"

  "Aye, certainly." He paused for a moment. "I wonder… are you one of the fairies?"

  "Ha. Nay, of course not." She eyed him through the darkness but could only see the outline of his form. Was he teasing or serious? 'Twas difficult to tell.

  Her stomach growled.

  "You sound hungry," he said.

  "I am indeed. I haven't eaten since this morn."

  'Haps Shamus was hungry, too. She dug into the pouch of her arisaid, pulled out the satchel and unwrapped the cloth. "Have some bread and cheese." She handed him chunks of the food.

  "I thank you. I was hungry," he said between bites. Even then, his voice held a smooth, seductive quality. Or was she imagining things?

  After eating a few bites, she uncorked the spiced wine she'd brought and sipped, then gave him the bottle.

  The wine sloshed and he swallowed. "Delicious," he said, passing it back to her.

  After corking the wine, she put it and the food away in her satchel.

  "Is there another trail out of here?" he asked.

  "Ben Clagen is to the north and Ben Milchen to the east. Both are high and craggy. We can cross neither. Even the pass is very high and rough. The best route is the way my clan went."

  "'Tis too dangerous to follow them," he said. "They might turn back. Or hide and wait for us to approach."

  "A few miles south, there is a fork in the trail. In the morn, we might be able to see their tracks and tell which way they've headed. 'Tis too dark now, even with the moonlight."

  "Aye."

  Because she was only able to discern his silhouette in the moonlight, the sound of his voice stirred up something strange but thrilling inside her.

  What were they going to do for the rest of the night? Sleep? She was far too restless. Kiss? That thought sent a rush of heat through her. Was this desire she was feeling for the first time in her life? Was this the passion the bards and troubadours sang of?

  Feeling disturbed and flushed, she arose and wandered to the central standing stone, the tallest. It had to be at least twelve feet in height. Legend said it was the marrying stone. She did not know whether to believe this or not… or even what it truly meant. She placed her hands flat upon it, as she had done a few times before. It had certainly never caused her to get married. In fact, all her suitors had been repelled.

  Rocks clattered as Shamus approached. "'Tis a very tall stone." He tilted his head back to observe the top in the moonlight.

  "Aye." She loved the smooth, weathered surface and the scratchy lichens growing on parts of it. When she closed her eyes, she felt the centuries these stones had stood witness to. They had existed here far longer than hundreds of years. 'Twas thousands of years they had stood just as they were now. With her "sight" she saw the ancient people who had come here. This had been a most sacred place to them. And then she saw the couples, hundreds of them, who had stood here touching the stone. It had bound them in a love so strong, none had ever parted. Even though death had separated some of them briefly, they had remained soul mates, and rejoined in the afterlife. Tears pricked her eyes at the depth of emotion and love. This was the kind of love she wanted.

  "Maili, are you all right?" Shamus asked in a gentle voice.

  She opened her eyes to find him leaning against the stone.

  "Why are you crying?"

  She shook her head, her throat too tight to speak. She could never explain what she saw. It was too grand, too elaborate and complicated. Infinite love.

  He pushed away from the stone and drew nearer. With his thumbs, he stroked her tears away, then leaned in and kissed her. Keeping one hand on the stone, she placed the other around his waist. How profoundly his kiss affected her. She felt as if that same powerful emotion she'd sensed coming from the couples thousands of years ago, who'd joined here, was surging through her. Love and need so strong she could hardly breathe.

  Her heart pounded and she pulled him tighter against her, kissing him with more fervor. His heart beat hard against her breast.

  She grew frantic at the overwhelming intensity of emotion. "Shamus," she gasped between kisses.

  "Aye, Maili." He sounded as profoundly affected as she was, and his kisses grew more insistent, more ardent.

  Good heavens! Had the stones joined them?

  ***

  Shamus drew Maili tight against him and took possession of her sweet mouth again. He flicked his tongue between her lips. Saints, but she was passionate and delectable. He wanted to devour her on the spot.

  Her hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck and before he knew what he was about, he had her lying on the grass-softened ground. He drew back and lay beside her so as to not frighten her.

  But she did not seem afraid. In fact, she grasped the top of his plaid and pulled hi
m down to her again. The kiss resumed, slower and more sensuous this time. 'Slud! Either she was a quick study or she'd lied about not knowing how to kiss. Was she more experienced than she admitted? He didn't care. He simply wanted her.

  Wishing her to know how powerfully she affected him, he pressed his hard shaft against her hip.

  A startling feeling ricocheted through him—the realization that he would do anything to protect her. That she belonged beside him. His instincts urged him to yank up her skirts and take her, make her his mate, his wife.

  Damnation, he couldn't do that.

  Grinding his teeth, he pulled her hands from around his neck and shoved to his feet.

  "We must stop now, Lady Maili," he growled, turning away from her. He tried to calm his breathing and the excitement rampaging through him. Saints, how he desired her. He had never felt such intensity before.

  "Why must we?" she asked in a small voice.

  He turned to glare at her through the moonlight. He could barely discern the outline of her form where she sat on the ground by the tall stone. "You don't ken?" he demanded. Did she not feel the need as he did?

  "Well… I was enjoying it," she confessed.

  He let out a humorless laugh. In his view, that was putting it mildly. He reveled in her. He could devour her, lose himself in her.

  "Did you not?" she asked in a puzzled voice.

  "Aye, lass, I was enjoying it far too much, if you grasp my meaning."

  She remained silent.

  "You don't have an inkling what I'm talking about, do you?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

  "Not… fully. I didn't ken it was possible to enjoy something too much."

  He blew out an exasperated breath. How could she be so guileless and innocent? "Is it true you had never been kissed before I kissed you in the dungeon?"

  "Of course. I would not lie," she said, her tone quiet but defensive.

  She was so naïve, 'haps she was younger than he'd imagined. "How old are you?"

  "Three and twenty," she snapped, rising to her feet. "You think simply because of my advanced age I should've been kissed long ago. I ken it. I was betrothed three times." Her voice caught with emotion.

  A shock went through him. "Nay, I thought you younger. Pray pardon. I didn't mean to upset you." Saints! The last thing he wanted to do was make her cry.