Claiming the Highlander

by Kinley MacGregor

  “Then why did you stop?”

  He moved his hand to cup her face. And right then, it was all he could do not to kiss her. Not to finish what they had started.

  “Because I didn’t want you to hate me for it,” he told her. “Or worse, to hate yourself.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I know you don’t. Tell me, Maggie, when you were making those plans of growing old without a man, did you never give thought to what you might be missing?”

  “Of course I did.”

  Braden arched one brow. “Does that include what you just felt?”

  Heat crept over her face. “I didn’t know about that. I mean, I knew about that, but I didn’t know…”

  “What it felt like.”

  She nodded.

  He leaned his head forward until their foreheads touched, and he buried his hands in her soft russet hair. It was all he could do not to touch her more intimately, because right then, being intimate with her was all he wanted.

  Indeed, he wished he could just crawl inside her and stay there for eternity.

  “What you felt, little blossom, is nothing compared to the pleasures to be had. And I wish to all that is holy that I could be the one who shows it to you.”

  Maggie stiffened in his embrace. “Are you asking to marry me?”

  Braden pulled back to see the indecision on her face. “Would you have me if I did?”

  “Nay. I know you too well. You’re not the type of man to ever content himself with one woman.”

  It was true and he knew it in his heart and with every fiber of his body. He couldn’t see himself coming home night after night to the same woman. He needed variety, spontaneity.

  Worse, he could never give her his heart. That was one part of him that he refused to share with any other person.

  And Maggie needed…nay, he corrected himself, she deserved a man loyal to her. One who would never break her heart and leave her weeping.

  Still, his body didn’t listen. It craved her with such ferocity that he swore his groin would grow blisters from the heat.

  “So, where does that leave us?” he asked.

  “At a standoff, I fear.”

  “Nay,” he said, laying his hand on her shoulder. “Not a standoff. We both know I can never have you.” Because I can never be the man you need me to be, and I would sooner die than hurt you.

  “I know,” she whispered.

  Braden kissed her forehead lightly, then pulled away and led her back to the camp. Both their moods were dark as they quietly tried to ignore each other. But it was hard.

  On second thought, it was impossible. Her taste and smell was branded into his memory and all he could see was her smile. All he could hear was her moaning his name.

  And God help him, he wanted more.

  The sweet bliss they could have together…but Maggie wasn’t the kind of woman a man made love to and left. She was the type of woman a man married.

  You could…

  Braden wouldn’t even let his mind finish that thought. He could never marry. Especially not a woman with whom he could see himself falling in love.

  Chapter 11

  Maggie spent the entire evening trying to avoid Braden as best she could. But how did a woman manage to avoid someone who meant so much to her?

  Even now, as he sat across the fire beside Sin, not even looking at her, she could feel his presence as acutely as if he sat directly next to her. The firelight played across his face, making his eyes appear a midnight black like Sin’s.

  His mood had been so serious since their discussion, and she missed his lighthearted teasing. And more than ever she wished she were the type of woman who could just walk over there, seduce him for the night, and be content with his leaving her come morning.

  Perhaps her brothers were right. She did ask too much of a man.

  But then, didn’t she have a right to ask for the same commitment and devotion from a man that men demanded of women?

  Oh, it just didn’t seem fair to her.

  Unaware of her thoughts and sidelong glances, Braden licked the grease from his lips in a way that made her body yearn.

  How could any man be so scrumptious? And why, oh, why couldn’t she get him out of her mind?

  She averted her gaze.

  But what was the use? She could still see those wonderful greenish brown eyes teasing her. Hear him calling her “little blossom,” and feel his strong hands roaming over the most private parts of her body.

  The man was simply too gorgeous for her own good. And in that instant, she wished she had never seen him. She could only imagine the years of peace she would have known had she not been trying to gain his attention.

  Sin rose as soon as he finished eating. “I’ll take first watch again.”

  Her own dinner forgotten, Maggie stood in a hurry as memories of the night before coursed through her. The last thing she needed was to awaken once more in Braden’s arms.

  She had to do something to put distance between them. “Perhaps I should take a turn at watch?”

  Both men stared at her as if she’d lost her mind.

  She had, but that was beside the point. Worse, Braden gave her a knowing, rakish smile.

  “No offense,” Sin said dryly, “but I prefer to live through the night.”

  “I was just trying to be helpful,” she said.

  “Then get plenty of sleep,” Sin said, turning his back to her.

  Maggie wished she possessed some of Sin’s sarcasm to come up with an appropriately biting retort, but all she could do was sit back down and return to her food.

  Braden ran his tongue wickedly over his bottom lip as he leaned to one side and stared at her over the fire. She looked down and tried not to notice how delectably long those legs of his were stretching out.

  He propped his head on his hand and looked invitingly at her. “Ready for bed, my love?”

  And you had missed that teasing?

  Whatever had she been thinking?

  Maggie fought the childish urge to stomp her foot at him. How dare he tease her like that, knowing how much she wanted him, as well as the fact that there could be nothing between them.

  By the light in his eyes, she could see he was doing it on purpose just to nettle her.

  It was then another urge possessed her. One to return the gesture to him. ’Twas time he was on the receiving end of such tactics.

  “Aye,” she said.

  Then slowly, seductively, she smoothed her hair to rest behind her right ear and gave him an inviting, taunting smile of her own as she leaned forward. “And you?”

  He didn’t speak. His eyes bulged ever so slightly as his gaze fastened on the small amount of cleavage her position afforded him.

  “You have no idea what you’re playing with,” he said, his voice an octave lower.

  “Aye, but I do.” She wrinkled her nose at him as she playfully bit her lower lip, imitating his earlier gesture. “You’d never force yourself on an unwilling woman, now, would you?”

  “Of course not,” he said, his tone offended.

  She sat back on her heels and trailed one hand slowly over the laces of her shirt. “Then look all you want, for that’s the only pleasure you’ll ever get from me.”

  To her dismay, he threw his head back and roared with laughter.

  “Oh, Maggie,” he said after he sobered. “If I dinna know better, I’d swear you were an experienced little minx. Now go to sleep. I already told you, I have no interest in tupping with you in the woods. But when I find a bed…”

  She’d run as fast as her legs could carry her. After what had already happened, she knew she couldn’t resist him for long once he touched her.

  And his kisses…

  It was enough to make a woman forget herself, for sure.

  Realizing the virtue of retreat, she settled herself down before the fire. She had just begun to relax a bit when Braden joined her.

  “What are you doing?” she asked hurriedly as
she remembered the way his body had felt shielding her from the ground.

  “I’m bringing you an extra plaid,” he said, draping it over her.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, trying her best not to notice the way his scent clung to the fabric. Or worse, the way his hands felt on her body as he smoothed the material over her.

  When he left her, she could feel her entire body temperature drop.

  Her heart felt torn as he settled himself across from her. The rational part of her was grateful, but her heart ached at the loss of his comfort.

  Sighing, she forced herself to concentrate on what she would say to the MacDouglas when she met him. That was a relatively safe topic. One that diverted her thoughts from Braden.

  At least for a little bit.

  That night, Maggie slept from sheer exhaustion.

  She came awake just after dawn to see Braden looking straight at her, his face unreadable.

  Self-conscious from his attention, she brushed her hair with her hands and wondered what he had been thinking as he watched her sleep.

  “Good morning,” he said in greeting.

  “Good morning,” she responded, pushing back the plaid as she stood. She glanced to where Sin slept a few feet away. “Should I wake Sin?”

  “Not if you’re of a mind to be keeping your head on your shoulders.”

  She frowned at his words.

  Braden moved to stand between her and his brother. Instead of reaching out to touch Sin, or speaking, he pulled his sword an inch out of the scabbard, so carefully that only a tiny, barely perceptible rasping sound disturbed the air.

  But it was enough.

  Lightning quick and in one fluid motion, Sin rolled to his feet. With the toe of his left foot, Sin caught his scabbard and kicked it from the ground into his hands, where he unsheathed his long sword in a quick, graceful arc and whirled to face them.

  The blade came to rest a mere inch from Braden’s neck as Maggie froze, too scared to breathe.

  His face deadly and tight, Sin only relaxed when he realized it was she and Braden who had disturbed him.

  Sin cursed. “I really hate it when you do that,” he said to Braden, sheathing his sword.

  Braden gave her a warning stare. “Never touch him while he sleeps. Or if you do so, duck.”

  “I will remember that.”

  As if unperturbed by the strangeness of his actions, Sin stretched casually, then yawned. “Still no sign of our bandits?”

  Braden shook his head. “Not yet.”

  “Pity. I feel the urge to kill something.” Sin left them to tend to his needs.

  “Kill something?” she asked Braden when they were alone. “Is he jesting?”

  “Most likely not,” he said, matter-of-factly.

  A chill went down her spine as she left Braden and rolled her plaid up, then placed it into her pack. Sin was a scary, scary man. But then, Braden could be so as well.

  Dismissing them from her thoughts, she made herself concentrate on the task ahead.

  Once Sin returned, the men gave Maggie her privacy as Braden prepared food to break the morning fast.

  Braden glanced longingly into the trees where Maggie had vanished. He’d spent half the night just watching her. Watching the way her chest rose and fell with her deep, even breaths. The way her arm gracefully curled under her head to support it.

  The way she had gently reached up in the middle of the night to scratch at her cheek and rub her eye like some adorable little child.

  Sleep did the most incredible things to her. It softened the tautness of her face and made her appear like a fey imp. The same imp who had once filled his boots with flour. He laughed.

  Where had the time gone?

  One day they had been children, running through the heather-filled moors together as they chased butterflies, and now she was grown. Grown into a strong woman who captivated him.

  And this attraction he felt for her. What was it? Where did it come from?

  It must be the allure of forbidden fruit, he decided. He knew he couldn’t have her and so he craved her all the more. Aye, that was it. That made sense to him.

  Once they were around others and he could find another woman, all would be set right. Maggie wouldn’t haunt his thoughts or torment his body. He would be his old self once again, the Braden who made fathers cringe in their sleep and women giggle at his approach.

  And yet some part of his mind argued. It told him that she had changed him. That somehow, some way, he wasn’t the same man he’d been when they started this journey.

  Braden didn’t listen.

  He couldn’t afford to.

  Maggie returned to the camp and in less than an hour they were on their way. They spoke little as they made their way through the forest, ever vigilant for the thieves.

  As the day wore on, the sky above became dark and forbidding. A storm was coming, and they would need shelter for the night.

  Reluctantly, Braden led them out of the forest toward a small village, brimming with activity. The wattle-and-daub huts were uninviting, and there was a large Celtic Cross in the center of them.

  As they approached the unfamiliar people, Braden glanced down at Sin’s legs. True to Sin’s prediction, they had actually darkened and were no longer so obviously white.

  Maggie’s still looked a bit too womanly for his tastes, but with any luck no one would notice that, and if they did happen to glance her way, they would merely attribute it to youth.

  He hoped.

  As he watched her, he saw the fear and trepidation settle on her face as her gaze darted about the people and she tightened her grip on the pack. He hated to see her scared. She had nothing to fear, not so long as he was there. He would never let any harm come to her.

  So he sought of a way to make her smile.

  “I wonder if there’s a bed to be found here,” he whispered teasingly in her ear.

  Her face turned bright red at his words. “I’m sure there’s nothing more promising than a stable,” she mumbled under her breath.

  Sin opened his mouth to speak, but Braden caught him on the arm. “Not a word, brother. We’re no longer on MacAllister lands, and in this area, that English accent of yours will quickly get our throats cut.”

  Sin shot him an arrogant look that spoke loudly, Let them try it.

  However, Braden wasn’t in the mood to fight, and luckily Sin glared at him but kept his lips in a tight, grim line.

  Braden moved ahead of them and approached a man who was loading hay into his wagon. About two score years in age, the man had hard lines around his face and a full gray beard laced with just a hint of brown. Though the man appeared clean and well kept, his brown and yellow plaid was ragged around the edges.

  “Good day to you, sir,” Braden said to the man.

  The man paused in his loading and eyed him suspiciously. “Who are you?”

  Braden answered without hesitation, “My name’s Sean.”

  “And who do you follow?”

  “Ewan of the Clan MacLucas.”

  The man’s silvery eyes narrowed even more. “I never heard of him.”

  “We’re from the isles,” Braden said. “My brothers and I are on our way to MacDouglas lands to see our sister and her new babe. I was wondering if there might be a place we could spend the night.”

  The old man accepted his words with a laugh. “MacDouglas lands, you say? You’ll not have a happy time there, I’ll wager.”

  “How so?”

  The old man scratched his beard. “My sister married a MacDouglas, and I heard from my brother-in-law that she and the rest of the clan’s women have taken over the castle from the men. They’re standing the battlements like a group of Amazons and have threatened to tar any man dumb enough to venture near them until the MacDouglas ends the feud with the MacAllister.”

  Braden feigned disbelief. “You don’t say?”

  The man’s visage turned dark. “Aye. ’Tis an evil, demonic thing that has possessed the women.
I heard the MacDouglas has petitioned the bishop for an exorcism.”

  “To be sure,” Braden said, then dared an amused glance to Maggie, whose cheeks seemed to be a shade or two redder than they’d been a few minutes ago. “Imagine a woman not wanting her man. Saints preserve us.”

  The man nodded gravely, then his mood seemed to lighten a degree. He returned to loading his hay. “Old Seamus rents to strangers. Damn fool, he. You’ll find his place down near the stable.”

  “My thanks,” Braden said, then turned and led Maggie and Sin toward the south end of the village where the stable lay.

  “Sean?” Maggie whispered as he drew near her.

  “I didn’t want to chance the name Braden, lest it jog someone’s memory.”

  “Quick thinking,” she agreed.

  As they drew near the stable, Braden had to force himself not to curl his lip. Old Seamus’s home was about as clean as a sty.

  Still, it would keep them out of the rain, and the last thing any of them needed was to catch their death before the MacDouglas had a chance to kill them.

  He found Seamus outside his house, fetching water from a well. The old man paused at their approach and eyed them with great reservation.

  “I don’t have beds for three strapping lads,” he said after Braden had asked him for a place to stay. “But I do have the stable, if you’re of a mind to use it.”

  Maggie cast him a smug I told you so look.

  “It’s not fancy,” Seamus continued, “but it comes with a meal, and it’ll keep the coming rain off your heads.”

  It would do. And judging from the smell of the man, the stable would be preferable anyway.

  “How much?” Braden asked.

  The old man stroked his chin thoughtfully as he swept them with a measuring gaze. “Free, if you lads don’t mind doing some chores for me.”

  Braden noted the strained look on Sin’s face. He could tell his brother would sooner brave the rain than do anything menial for a Highlander. Indeed, knowing Sin, it was a wonder he didn’t turn berserker and start laying waste to the entire village.

  He would make it up to Sin later. For now they had to be practical.