Claiming the Highlander

by Kinley MacGregor

  Over and over, Maggie shifted her head and arms trying to get comfortable.

  It was useless.

  Just as she resigned herself to a sleepless night, Braden reached out and touched her arm.

  “Here,” he whispered, pulling her back against his front. “Lean on me.”

  She wanted to argue. Nay, she needed to argue, but she couldn’t. Not when he felt so good.

  Reluctantly, she allowed him to cradle her against his chest.

  Now, this was comfortable!

  She lay with her head on top of his biceps, where she could feel the strong muscle as it shielded her from the hard ground. Though his body felt as strong as steel, it made a most wondrous pillow.

  Closing her eyes, Maggie savored the wicked feel of Braden wrapped around her and the rich masculine smell of him. He encased her with his presence and it seeped into her very soul.

  And still she couldn’t sleep.

  Worse, she knew Braden was all too aware of the fact that she was lying there, stiffly, in his embrace. In fact, she could feel his stare on her even though she kept her eyes stubbornly closed.

  A braver lass would never lie so passively while the man of her dreams held her so intimately. But she didn’t know what else to do.

  What would it take for her to make him see her as a woman? Or, more to the point, make him see her as the only woman for him? She didn’t want to be just another female in a long line of females, she wanted to be his only one.

  Aye, she wanted to tame the wild wind. To touch his heart where no other woman had ever reached.

  But that was impossible.

  Even if she dared be bold with him, she was terrified he would deny her. How would she face him if he pushed her away, or worse, laughed at her feeble attempts?

  Oh, what’s the use, Maggie? You know what happened the last time you tried to impress him.

  Her mind drifted back to the day she had turned ten-and-four. She had taken extra care to dress for mass that morning, for it was on that day that for the very first time in her life she had felt she really was a woman.

  And she knew Braden would be at the kirk.

  Over and over as she struggled to dress, she had told herself it was going to be the day Braden noticed her. He’d take one look at her in her finery and he’d realize that she was finally grown and that she was the only woman he would ever want. The only woman he would ever love.

  In her mind, she had even pictured him going down on his knee before the entire clan and vowing his eternal, undying love for her while all the girls who had been mean to her would look on in envy. Then the two of them would ride off together and live happily ever after.

  Certain of her success, Maggie had meticulously coiled her hair about her head, and worn her mother’s best kirtle and plaid. True, the yellow kirtle had been a bit large and mature on her, but to her it had been beautiful, and it had made her feel beautiful. She had even worn a special pair of high-heeled slippers for which she had paid the cobbler two dozen eggs.

  When she had joined her brothers for the wagon ride to the kirk, they had frowned at her clothes, but none said a word about her attire.

  They didn’t have to. The other boys of the clan had said plenty.

  “Look,” Davis had said the moment she arrived at the kirk and descended from the wagon. “It’s a scrawny, speckled chicken with a skinny chicken neck, wearing a grain sack three sizes too big.” The others had taken up the cry of “Bock, bock,” and to this day their scorn resonated through her soul.

  They had chased her back to the wagon, where her brothers had stepped in and sent them running, but the damage had already been done. Her beautiful hair had fallen down around her shoulders, and she had broken one of the heels from her shoes. Her mother’s dress was stained and her plaid torn.

  At that moment, she had hated herself. Hated the way she looked and hated the fact that her mother hadn’t been there to help her be more attractive. More ladylike.

  The only saving grace of the day had been Braden’s absence. At least he hadn’t witnessed her humiliation.

  Nay, Braden would never be interested in her. Especially since the only attractive part of her, her hair, was gone. Sighing in regret, she fought the tears that wanted release.

  Braden watched Maggie. Something was troubling her, and his heart wrenched for all she had suffered in her young life.

  Maggie had always been strong. Even now he could remember the way she had looked when her father had been buried. It had been the coldest day of winter and she had stood there with tears brimming in her eyes as the icy wind cut through all of the mourners, but not one tear had fallen. Anghus had been so shaken, he could barely walk. It had been Maggie who helped her brothers home. Maggie who took care of them.

  Braden had gone to offer his condolences, and as he rounded their small cottage, he had found her doubled over in grief. But the moment she had seen him, she had straightened, dried her eyes and pulled herself together with a strength of will that amazed him to this day.

  Lord, what a hard life she had lived. Her brothers, and most of the boys in the clan, had been unmerciful in their teasing of her. Her father had censored everything she had ever done to please him.

  And still she was the most giving, kindhearted woman he had ever known.

  Without conscious thought, he reached out to gently stroke her hair. The silken, russet strands caressed his fingers and stirred his hunger for her.

  Is it her you want, or is it just a woman?

  For the first time in his life, Braden paused.

  Never before had he considered such a thing, but then, he’d never had to. Women had always come to him. Sought him out and offered their bodies to him without reservation.

  But Maggie was different. She had never pursued him. Instead, she had always withheld herself, almost as if she feared him.

  Tonight, that bothered him.

  Leaning forward, he inhaled the floral scent of her hair, allowing it to wash over him and captivate his senses. She was luscious and soothing, like a warm summer breeze.

  Losing himself to his impulses, he trailed his hand from her head, down her arm, and snuggled even closer to her warmth.

  Maggie’s eyes flew open.

  Was he…?

  Aye, he was! Braden was actually running his hand down her hip as he smelled her hair.

  Is he supposed to do that?

  Nay, woman, you know better than that. You’re supposed to be married to a man before you let him sniff your hair and run his hands over you.

  Aye, but his hand felt good. Wonderful, in fact. Maggie!

  Torn between wanting to let him have his way and knowing it would be wrong to do so, Maggie cleared her throat. “Braden, would you behave?”

  “I am behaving,” he purred against her ear.

  See? her mind argued. He said he was behaving.

  But she didn’t believe either one of them. Not for a minute.

  “Nay,” she said, noting the odd sound of her voice. “You’re groping.”

  “Only a little groping.”

  Oh, the man was shameless! A little groping, indeed!

  If she didn’t stop him now, there was no telling what it might lead to.…

  Actually, she knew exactly where it would lead, and even though her heart might want this with him, her head knew the dire consequences of such an act. She would not be another of his conquests. No matter how she felt about him, she wasn’t going to let herself be used.

  Her only thought to save herself, she grabbed his hand tightly in hers and moved it to her stomach, just below her breasts, to keep it still.

  “So,” Braden whispered in her ear, his voice husky and deep. “You want me here, do you?”

  He reached his hand up ever so slightly and cupped her bound breast in his hand.

  Maggie struggled to breathe as a fierce wave of desire tore through her. A strange ache started at the core of her body and it was all she could do not to moan.

  “
Braden!” she choked. “You’re not supposed to do that.”

  “Nay?” he asked, nuzzling his face against her hair.

  She closed her eyes as his breath tickled the back of her neck. He felt so good, and right then she wanted a kiss from him so badly that it took all her will not to roll over and claim his lips.

  “Braden,” she tried again. “If you don’t let me go, I swear I’m going to sleep with Sin.”

  He froze at her words. Then he laughed.

  “What’s so funny about that?” she asked with a frown.

  “My brother would sooner geld himself than lie down with a Scotswoman.”

  “Oh, you,” she scolded as she rolled onto her back to glare up at him and that handsome, dimpled smile of his. “That’s not what I meant and well you know it. You’re terrible. Wicked. Incorrigible!”

  His smile deepened and she didn’t miss the dark hunger in his eyes. “Actually, I’ve been told I’m rather good. Especially when it comes to—”

  Maggie placed her hand over his lips to stifle the rest of that sentence. “I’ve heard enough from you. And I’m not about to let you have your way with me out here in the woods like some harlot. I’m a good, respectable lass, and I intend to stay that way.”

  And then a terrible thing happened. She realized how soft his lips were beneath her fingertips. Then she remembered what those soft lips had felt like as they kissed her own.

  Heaven. His kiss had been total heaven.

  Startled by the thought and the fact that her will had begun to falter, she removed her hand and clenched her fingers into a fist.

  A tic started in his jaw as he regarded her. He dipped his gaze down her lips and she watched the debate play across his face.

  Finally he sighed and pulled back.

  Maggie took a deep breath in relief as he settled himself a few inches away from her.

  “Tell me,” he said quietly. “How did you make this trip the first time, all by yourself?”

  What an odd question. Why would he…

  She paused at the thought as she noticed a part of him that was quite a bit larger than it had been before. Her face flamed. He was trying to distract himself, and unless she wanted to make it worse, she’d best help him do just that.

  “I was riding a horse,” she said under her breath to keep Sin from overhearing her words.

  Braden laughed softly.

  “I rode during the day and stayed at my cousin’s the first night. Then once I reached MacDouglas lands, I kept to the roads and paid for lodging.”

  “And it took four days?” he asked.

  Maggie blushed again as she recalled her earlier words to him regarding how long the trip had taken. “Nay, I was gone only two days. I’m guessing it’ll take us four on foot.”

  Maggie cast a fearful glance to Sin. “I didn’t want to tell Sin how I had traveled lest it make him even angrier that we are on foot.”

  “You’re wise beyond your years.”

  Braden leaned forward ever so slightly and trailed his fingers through her hair again. “Do you know, your hair is as soft as silk?”

  Not again. If he kept this up, she was going to be hopelessly lost.

  Maggie bit her lip as she enjoyed hearing him compliment her. “Nay,” she whispered. “I’ve never felt silk.”

  His eyes darkened again as he moved his head a little closer to hers. “I would love to wrap you in it,” he confided in her ear, sending a thousand chills over her entire body. “Aye, a deep green sheet, one that would set off the creaminess of your skin and the highlights in your hair. Believe me, there’s nothing more sensuous than silk skimming over your naked body.”

  “Braden!”

  His smile was completely unrepentant.

  Maggie shook her head at him. “You can’t help it, can you?”

  “Help what?”

  “Flirting with every woman you meet.”

  “Who says I’m flirting?”

  “I do, because I know if Nera or Adena were here this moment, you’d be off with one of them and giving no thought whatsoever to me.”

  He recoiled his head as if she’d slapped him. “Och, now, Maggie, I don’t know which of us you just insulted most with that statement. Do you honestly think I would…”

  Braden paused as he truly thought about her words. And in that moment, he learned something about himself he didn’t like.

  She was right. He couldn’t even guess how often he’d been with one woman when another, more attractive woman had come along and “distracted” him.

  “You were saying?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he said, glancing off into the dark forest. For the first time in his life, he felt guilty over some of what he’d done in the past.

  Maggie settled back down on the hard ground and he watched her struggle for comfort.

  In spite of himself, Braden pondered what he would do if a more attractive woman were here. Would he flit after her the first chance he had and pay no more heed to Maggie?

  Could he truly be that shallow a person?

  The most painful part of all was that he didn’t know for sure whether he would or not.

  He was an ass and a scoundrel. And for the first time in his life, he wished he were different.

  Why couldn’t he be more like Lochlan? Steadfast and loyal, or like Ewan.

  Nay, he thought quickly. Not like Ewan. Ewan was too monkish for his tastes. But he could be like Sin. Sin was respectful and discreet, and women threw themselves at him as much as they did Braden.

  Unbidden, his gaze went back to Maggie lying stiffly on the ground. She deserved so much better than a scoundrel like him. She deserved a man who could love her, and her alone. In truth, she needed such a man.

  And in his heart, Braden knew he could never be that man. He wasn’t capable of giving himself over to just one single woman. Ever. He loved his freedom too much. He loved his women too much.

  For that reason, he would have to keep himself from her. Because in the end, he could offer her nothing more than a broken heart, and he didn’t want to add any more unhappiness to her life.

  Still, thoughts of Maggie drifted through his mind. Thoughts of her earlier kiss. The softness of her pale skin beneath his hand. The sound of her breath whispering in his ear.

  But even worse was the imagined sight he had of her lying naked beneath him, her amber eyes dark with hunger as she cradled him with her entire body and urged his hips with her hands as he lost himself deep inside her.

  His hunger for her was enough to drive him mad. Never had he felt such a strong, alluring need to find out exactly what a woman’s passion was like. But with Maggie, he wanted to know. Nay, ’twas almost a need to find out if she was as hot and passionate without her clothes as she was in them.

  Leaning forward ever so slightly, Braden closed his eyes and inhaled the sweet, feminine scent of Maggie’s hair and he ached to trace his fingers over the creamy skin of her cheek.

  Too well, he remembered her passion. The taste of her breath mingling with his as he plundered her mouth and laid claim to her virginal lips.

  At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to claim the rest of her for his very own.

  His body stirred violently at the thought.

  Aye, she was a lass to savor. A vibrant treasure that he wanted to spend weeks exploring.

  His gaze drifted over the length of her wrapped beneath the plaid. Only a few pieces of cloth separated their bodies. Separated him from the part of her he longed for most.

  It would be so easy to lift the hem of her plaid and bury himself deep inside her. To listen to her moans of pleasure as he taught her the oldest, most intimate dance a man and woman could ever share.

  In all these years, why had he never noticed her before? What had kept him so blinded?

  There were no words to describe her spirit or her conviction. Never had he met such a woman, and yet there had never been a moment in his memory when he hadn’t known her.

  “You know, l
ittle blossom, you could be safe in your bed this night.”

  “Aye,” she whispered, staring into the fire before her. “I could. But it wouldn’t do anything to stop the dying. I would give anything for this feud to end.”

  “Except let me kill Robby MacDouglas.”

  She grew quiet as she mulled over his words.

  “Perhaps I judged you harshly,” she whispered. “Perhaps I should hate him for the deaths of my brothers. If not for him and his bloodlust, they would be alive now. But somewhere deep inside him, there must be a part that wants an end to this as much as we do. Surely, after five years of fighting, he must be weary of it. Aren’t you?”

  He didn’t respond.

  “Braden?”

  “I’m thinking on it.”

  She turned to look at him, her face incredulous. “You still want to fight?”

  “There is something to be said for it.”

  Her eyes burned bright in frustration and she growled low in her throat, then she pushed at his shoulder.

  Braden laughed as he pretended to tussle with her.

  “Do I need to go for a stroll?” Sin’s voice cut into their play.

  “Nay,” Maggie said quickly, moving away from him. “I am merely trying to kill your brother.”

  “Ever the charmer, eh, Braden?”

  “Hold your tongue, Sin.”

  “I would, but with my luck, one of your giant Scottish bugs would land on it. Besides, it makes my hand wet and pruney when I do that.”

  Braden rolled his eyes, wishing he had something close enough to toss at Sin.

  Maggie laughed softly.

  “Good night, Braden,” she said, returning to her original position.

  “Good night, little blossom,” he whispered. But inside, he knew a night without her kiss could never be called good.

  A few hours later, Maggie awoke with a start to find Braden’s arms wrapped protectively around her. At some point in the night, they had drifted even closer together and she lay perfectly entwined with him before the fire.

  An odd, foreign need beat at the center of her body as she enjoyed the strange sensation of his masculine thigh pressing high between her own. Oh, but it was a wicked, wicked feeling. One she was certain a young woman shouldn’t be experiencing with a man not her husband.