Desiring The Highlander

by Michele Sinclair

  “If you are ready, I will show you now before I retire. Otherwise, I’ll send Fallon to escort you to your room.”

  Ellenor swallowed, still shocked at how the night had ended so abruptly. A few minutes ago, she was professing her love for Cole to Brighid. Now she was suddenly alone with him. Unable to think of what else to do or say, she murmured, “I’m ready.”

  Cole pivoted and left Ellenor to follow his lead.

  Cole leaned his shoulder against the massive bedroom door. It gave under the pressure, opening to a large interior room lit only by the faint torchlight coming from the corridor. The windows were shut, but the ever-growing storm wind was howling just on the other side, giving the room a ghostly quality.

  Ellenor hugged her arms and briskly rubbed them for warmth. From behind, Cole said, “Sorry. I should have realized there wouldn’t be a fire. Maybe you should stay in Conan’s room.”

  Ellenor bit her bottom lip. She would rather sleep in a Hall chair than in Conan’s room. The idea seemed intimate and therefore inappropriate. The thought of being in Cole’s bed, however, was not only appealing, it gave her a sense of hope she desperately needed. “I think I see some wood. If you don’t mind, would you light it before you leave?”

  Cole stepped around her and knelt down by the hearth. He threw several new logs in, followed by some kindling. Standing back up, he grabbed a stick and went out to the corridor to light it. He came back in with the wooden tip on fire. He lit a candle on the small table next to the bed before igniting the logs and the once gloomy room was transformed with soft light.

  Ellenor expected Cole’s bedchamber to be sparse, but instead it was filled with a medley of odds and ends that obviously had meaning to Cole. Across the hearth was a thick beam of wood serving as a mantle. On it was a beaten wooden sword used in training when boys first learned how to wield a weapon. In addition, there were several cups, an old leather belt, and a faded plaid hanging from a nail. A large thick rug lay in front of the fireplace and to its side was an oversized padded chair well worn from years of use. To the right of the fireplace was a muted tapestry of two dark-haired boys playing near a loch. Ellenor wondered if one of the boys was supposed to be Cole.

  Two chests, one small and one significantly larger, were on either side of the door. The larger one had an etched crest of an eagle clutching a tree branch. Across the room, there was a small table with a couple of arch chairs and a long settee under the window with three pillows lying haphazardly on one end. Next to it was the bed, which was like everything else, large and sturdy. The rushes that covered the floor were fresh, proving Laurel had the staff come through periodically to keep things clean and ready for use.

  Cole shifted his weight and Ellenor realized he had been waiting for her reaction as she took in his room. He was exposing a piece of himself she suspected few saw. Suddenly, his offer to have her sleep here meant more to her than if he had given her the grandest room in all of Scotland.

  Ellenor turned to face the fire, unable to look at him. “I can’t believe how scared I am.”

  “Scared?” Cole asked, perplexed by her admission.

  “Mm-hmm. Scared. I’m standing here in this warm inviting room, and I’m scared. I haven’t slept in a place where I have felt safe in so long…Even my home, before I was forced to leave, didn’t make me feel secure. Faces, reminders were everywhere…”

  Cole swallowed and moved closer. “You don’t have anything to worry about here, Elle. I made you a promise to never let harm fall on you again. Know that just by being here, on these lands, you are safe, even if I am not by your side.”

  Ellenor nodded her head and rubbed her arms again to keep from crying. “Thank you for letting me stay here, Cole. I don’t think I would have been comfortable anywhere else. Somehow, knowing this was your room makes me feel safe. Like you are still sleeping just a few feet away.”

  A calloused finger slipped under her chin. “Then why are you crying?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied, brushing away a tear. “I’m just overwhelmed, I guess, but I am glad you made me come.”

  Cole cocked a brow and took a step back. “Made you come? Elle, I don’t know exactly when you figured out Laurel was the one who had me come for you, but the moment that happened, I doubt there is a force in all of Scotland that could have stopped you from coming.”

  Ellenor tilted her head back and sighed in acknowledgment. “You are probably correct, and though seeing Laurel again was wonderful, I am still worried. She expects so much and I am an outsider, and English, and…”

  Cole framed her face between his hands and looked at her, his eyes piercing and alive with desire and pride. “You’ve been in my home for less than a day and already are conquering the hardest of souls. Even Conan, who hates all women.”

  Ellenor smiled. “Conan doesn’t hate women. He just gets frustrated with those who are less knowledgeable.”

  “That’s about everyone.”

  “True…”

  “Everyone but you.”

  The intimacy of Cole’s touch was proving too much. If she didn’t break free, she was going to throw her arms around him and make a fool of herself. “I like Conan. I do, but he makes me nervous.”

  “And does Hamish?” Cole asked, releasing his hold before moving to the mantel. He unhooked the faded plaid and draped it around her shoulders.

  Ellenor tightened the material around her and huddled inside it, pretending it was Cole wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight as he did in the Hall. “Hamish? No. Yes. Maybe…I don’t know. He was so large and comical; it was hard to know if he was serious or trying to get a reaction. But he sure got one out of you.”

  “The man was out of line,” Cole replied crisply and fell into the single hearth chair.

  Ellenor, also wanting to sit down, decided to curl up on the rug in front of the fire. She crossed her arms over her knees and laid her head on her elbow, watching Cole mentally stew over the night’s events. His expression had changed and she knew his mind had moved from Hamish’s flirtatious actions to his brief but disappointing message. And despite the concern etched on Cole’s face, Ellenor couldn’t help feeling content. This was what she had always wanted. A home and a good man with whom she could be completely herself. “They will choose you, Cole. They will.”

  Cole’s eyes snapped to hers. Surprise that she had read his thoughts and understood what bothered him swirled in the cobalt depths. “They might not. In the end, it doesn’t really matter.”

  “You don’t care?”

  “No.”

  Ellenor tossed off the blanket. She stood up, pointed a finger at his chest, and said, “Elmer Ludlow of the clan McTiernay, I don’t believe you. I think you do care—a lot. Those people need you and you know it. Without you, they won’t survive. Stop pretending to be indifferent and admit what’s really bothering you. That if you are chosen, it was because of circumstances and not for wanting you.”

  Cole stared at her. He should have been angry or, at the very least, annoyed at being chastised by an Englishwoman, but he could think of nothing but her. Thoughts of his future, her past, and all the reasons he should stand up and leave vanished. Only memories were left, tantalizing ones of how good it had felt to hold her, all soft and vulnerable pressed up against him. Of her silky hair and her naked breasts, perfect and round filling his hands. Of how her lips moved against his, untutored, full of genuine passion, eagerly responding to him as if she had been made just for him, only him. And he was mere inches away from knowing such exquisite pleasure again.

  His body quickened at the thought and he silently cursed his own weakness as he caved in to his need and tugged her onto his lap. “I told you to stop calling me Elmer.”

  “I fully intend to,” she whispered. His nearness pulled at her senses, flooding her with strange feelings she had only discovered that morning. Her heart was racing so fast she could barely speak.

  “When?”

  His blue eyes had becom
e disturbingly dark, blazing with hot, intense, sexual magnetism. Primal energy danced dangerously in front of her, and she could not look away. She wanted to, but her body was responding to his gaze in ways for which she was unprepared. Everything about him…his strength, his pride, his principles, even his blatant desire for her…all of it captivated her and she could not break from its spell. “Someday…” Ellenor managed to mumble, and before she could say anything more, he brought her mouth down to his with an intimate aggression that seared her senses.

  From the moment he entered the tower, Cole had known he wasn’t leaving without kissing her one last time. But he had thought it would be a safe kiss. He would try to leave and she would meet him halfway out the door, standing sweet and innocent and full of untutored passion. It was something he was supposed to be able to have, enjoy, and control.

  This embrace, however, was far different.

  Ellenor’s scent had taken over his every breath and Cole thought he was going to drown in the rose and lavender fragrance. His mouth was voracious, his tongue stroking, probing the warmth of her lips, seeking the very thing that made her full of life. It should have frightened her, made her recoil from his touch, but instead, her fingers clenched around his shoulders, and pulled him even closer.

  He groaned in response, drinking hungrily from her lips as if the years of loneliness that lay in front of him could be ended with this one last taste of her spirit. How could such a woman want him? But she did—of that he had no doubt.

  When Cole’s mouth broke from hers, Ellenor’s heart stopped and only started beating again when his lips slowly began to trek across her cheek, lingering as he nibbled the line of her jaw, her ear, and finally her neck. His tongue swirled around the base of her throat and below.

  Ellenor could not recall feeling so alive, so beautiful, in her entire life. Each time Cole touched her, she was filled with a restless yearning for more, but knew not of what.

  She had known all about the physical act of making love for years, but the idea that a man’s touch could lift her to an unworldly realm was new and incredibly powerful. It was a world of passion and awe and beauty, and it could only be found and shared with one man. One Highlander.

  Cole inhaled the scent of her and knew she was already moist, just as he had already become hard, so hard he hurt. With only a kiss. He knew he should stop; the pain would only increase if he continued, but he didn’t care. He needed to hold her for just a little while longer. Pleasure unlike he had never known was in his arms and he wasn’t ready to let it go. At least not yet.

  She arched her back, and her thick dark golden mane tumbled behind her shoulders. His slid his fingers beneath the weight of it, relishing the silky feel. Nothing could be so soft and yet, here it was, made for him to touch and enjoy.

  His hands started to explore the curvature of her spine and then her rib cage. He spread his thumbs just wide enough to barely graze the sides of her breasts. The simple touch reminded him of their perfect size and how good they had tasted. Trailing his lips to her shoulders, he slowly moved the sleeve of her gown down, exposing her skin to his mouth and tongue. She sucked in her breath and then moaned with satisfaction. It was like the sweetest music to his ears and he wanted—needed—to hear more.

  Cole covered her mouth with his once again, drugging her senses, as he lifted her body so that she was stretched across his lap. His fingers found and caressed the sensitive skin at her nape before moving lower. Pushing aside the curve of her hair, he lowered her sleeves before finding the ties to her gown. He tugged at them. They parted, freeing the treasures hidden beneath their burgundy folds. Moving the lacy edge of her chemise aside, pert, perfect breasts were thrust into the air, hardening as the cool night air teased her overheated skin.

  He swallowed and the aching hunger that had been driving his emotions and actions suddenly swelled to new levels. “God, Elle,” he groaned, his voice thick and husky, “you are so incredibly beautiful.”

  Ellenor arched her back, twisting, her body begging to be touched. Cole complied. He bent down and closed his mouth over hers for a long, searing moment, and then unable to wait any longer, cupped her breasts. His thumbs trembled as they brushed across her soft skin. A light sigh of relief escaped her lips as her nipple tightened against his palm.

  Capturing one hard little nub, he squeezed it gently, relishing how she shuddered in response. He let his fingers caress, massage, and knead the flawlessly shaped mound under his callused hand. Then he moved to the other nipple, stroking it, teasing it, until it strained for release.

  Ellenor gripped his shoulders. Her body was screaming for more of his touch. His fingers were tormenting her with their light stimulating caresses. She needed his mouth on her, tasting her as he did before. “Please, Cole, touch me.”

  “I am, love,” he whispered and brushed his mouth against hers, switching his massage to her other breast.

  “No,” she moaned. “Touch me,” she begged, only half aware she was voicing her uninhibited request, “like you did before.”

  Cole knew exactly what she wanted, what her body longed for, and reveled in the thought he could make such a beautiful, strong woman weak with need for him. “Tell me. Tell me exactly what you want, Elle, and I will give it to you. I don’t want to scare you.”

  Scare her! He was torturing her and suddenly she knew why. Even while she had forgotten her distrust of men and her fear of their touch, Cole had remembered. He was holding back. Something she didn’t want him to do. “Kiss me with your mouth,” she purred. “Here.” Reaching up with her hands, she clasped them around the back of his neck and pulled him down to her awaiting breast.

  Cole took the nipple into his mouth and gently held the bloom between his lips, flicking his tongue over the sensitive flesh. It was firm and ripe and her impassioned response caused him to lose restraint. He began to suckle, drawing more of the pink bud in his mouth. She was trembling and her quakes were going through him as if they were shivers of his own. Some of them might have been. Ellenor was everything he could ever want in a woman. Spirited, spontaneous, and so passionate she set his body ablaze. And he had only grazed the surface of what she had to offer.

  Ellenor’s fingers dove into his hair and then down his back. Pausing to embrace his shoulders, she could feel his muscles flexing beneath her hands. Her palms turned hot. Her heart was racing as his mouth continued to weave its magic spell.

  “I never thought,” she moaned, “it could be like this. I thought I would never…I didn’t know I could feel this way…” Cole covered her mouth with his own, preventing her from further speech in another soul-scorching kiss. In one effortless move, he swung her up into the air and removed the rest of her gown. Then, he unhooked his own belt, letting his kilt fall to the floor as he headed toward the bed.

  She whispered his name, a sound so full of longing his heart ached in response. He was teetering on the biggest mistake he would ever make and it would be days before the building pain in his loins would ease, but it would be worth it. Tonight would have to last a lifetime. Ellenor would learn just how beautiful it could be between a man and a woman, and he would have the memory of sampling heaven, even it was only a piece. To know more would force her to be a part of his life. He was not fit for any woman, especially her. He had committed himself long ago to another path. She knew that, but still she trusted him, wanted him, and it was driving him over the edge.

  Easing her back against the pillows, he traced her lips with his tongue, trying to be reassuring, calming her in case she was scared. Ellenor ignored the soft touch and leaned forward, kissing him with a kind of abandon that let him know she trusted him, completely, totally. He could go wild with this woman and she would go with him, even help him to get there.

  Cole felt his leine move upward and realized just in time that she was tugging at it, trying to get it off him. He captured her fingers in his own and said, “No, love, tonight, is just about you.”

  Ellenor squirmed. “I want to t
ouch you, feel you. Please, Cole, let me…” she whimpered. Her green eyes had turned translucent, and for a brief moment, he wondered if he was going to be able to withstand the pain of never having this again. Then he didn’t care.

  He swung his leg over hers and leaned down, his mouth finding the sweet, scented curve of her breast. He teased the already taut dusky pink nipple until she called out with pleasure. He smiled against her skin and, with a deep groan of satisfaction, whispered, “Love, you haven’t felt anything yet.”

  The sensations rippling through Ellenor were on the verge of overwhelming her—there were so many of them. One hand held both of hers above her head, his thumb tenderly circling her wrist. It was a gentle caress and yet it said so much. His mouth was the opposite. It was voracious, plucking at one nipple, holding it, sucking until she was writhing with the need for more. Her lower body was on fire, aching to know his touch. Then, his fingers started stroking her inner thigh, softly, creating waves of both pleasure and agony.

  Up and down his fingertips went. First one thigh and then the other, each time getting closer to the heat of the fire that threatened to consume her. She was begging him to stop and yet crying for him to continue. She was shaking as his hands finally drifted higher, brushing her hair. Then finally his hand covered her mound, and for a moment, time stood still.

  Cole could hardly breathe. His mouth hovered above hers. His body was stretched over her with only his leine between them. The one last piece of protection to remind him he could only go so far. His other hand was where no man had ever gone before. Moisture beaded between the soft folds. This unique, surprising woman was ready for him. Her forest green eyes pleaded with him to continue, weaving a spell around them, making it impossible for either of them to back away.

  Cole’s palm rubbed back and forth, and when he felt her hips begin to rock against his hand, straining for a more intimate touch, he parted her with one finger and slipped into her heat.