Draco: A Medieval Scottish Romance (The Immortal Highland Centurions Book 3)

by Jayne Castel

  Gavina’s breathing caught. Was this what love felt like? Had she actually fallen for him?

  Or maybe, all she wanted was to chase his demons away?

  And so, slowly, acting on instinct now, Gavina leaned in, tilting her chin up so that their faces were level.

  Gently, she brushed her lips against his. Leaning in once more, she kissed him again, and then she boldly touched his lips with the tip of her tongue.

  With a groan low in his throat, Draco’s eyes fluttered shut. And then his lips parted. The kiss deepened, and he reached out and pulled her up so that she sat astride him upon his lap. The position was intimate, although layers of cloth separated them, for Gavina was clad in men’s braies.

  Even so, when he grasped hold of her bottom and pulled her hard against him, she felt his hard shaft pressing against her core—evident even through their clothing.

  Excitement, dark and wild, beat like a Beltaine drum in her breast. Kissing Draco, touching him, unleashed something inside her. It was hard to form a coherent thought when they did this, hard to remember all the things that plagued them.

  The kiss deepened further, growing hungry and demanding. Gavina curled her arms around his neck. She loved the feeling of being seated astride him like this, of the thunder of his heart pressed against her chest.

  Eventually though, Draco broke off their embrace.

  Breathing hard, he rose to his feet and gently let Gavina down. Her knees wobbled when her feet hit the shingles. Her breathing came in short, needy pants.

  Was this it? Would he end things here?

  She couldn’t bear it if he did.

  But he didn’t. Instead, Draco removed his cloak and spread it down upon the pebbles beside the boat. Then, he did the same with hers. Unspeaking, they both heeled off their boots.

  Returning to Gavina, he slowly started to peel off her clothing.

  She stood there, her fingertips aching to touch him, but letting him undress her nonetheless. And then, when the breeze caressed her naked skin, she reached out and started to unlace his vest. Gavina tried to steady her breathing, for she was starting to feel dizzy with desire, with a need that set her blood aflame.

  Moments later, he too was naked.

  Then they shifted onto the makeshift bed Draco had made upon the shingle. He drew her to him there, his mouth slanting over hers, and kissed Gavina long and slow, with an aching tenderness.

  Gavina melted into him, her hands sliding up the sculpted planes of his chest.

  He lowered her to the ground.

  The shingle—even covered by cloaks—wasn’t much of a bed, but Gavina barely noticed the pebbles digging into her back. Her only focus was upon the man who stretched himself out over her, who covered her body with his.

  Skin slid against skin, and the warmth of him enveloped her.

  Draco whispered something to her in a tongue she didn’t understand, his hands cupping her face. He then resumed kissing her, with such leashed passion that Gavina’s pulse started to thunder in her breast. Tenderness rose within her, entwining with a fierce need to possess this man, and to be possessed by him.

  Their limbs tangled as they rolled together on the cloaks, the kiss drawing out. There was no need to hurry this. They had the whole night before them.

  And Draco had no intention of rushing.

  When Gavina was breathless from his kisses, her lips swollen, he slowly moved down her body, worshipping every curve, every hollow—with his lips, his tongue, and fingertips.

  Gavina’s eyelids fluttered shut, and she gave herself up to it. This was exquisite torture, and yet she didn’t want him to ever stop.

  Draco moved farther down her body and spread her legs so that she was fully exposed to him. Sitting back on his heels, he stared down at her, his hot gaze devouring her.

  Gavina watched him under hooded lids. She ached for him. And despite the cool night air feathering across her skin, sweat now beaded across her body.

  “You are so lovely,” he said, his voice a rasp. “Indeed … I could forget who I am when I’m with you, Gavina.”

  His words made her breathing hitch, hope flickering deep in her breast. “Then make it so, Draco,” she whispered. “Make us both forget.”

  XXIX

  HEART AND SOUL

  HE MADE LOVE to her with a tenderness that caused Gavina to weep.

  Her groans filtered across the deserted beach when he slid deep into her. He then began to take her in long, slow strokes. Achingly slow. Gavina wasn’t sure she could bear it.

  And all the while, Draco cupped her face and trailed kisses down over her cheeks, her eyelids, her jaw—before he captured her mouth once more, his tongue mimicking the slick slide of his shaft inside her.

  Gavina started to tremble, pleasure flowering across her lower belly, wet heat pulsing deep in her core. She cried out, arching up against him.

  Draco drove into her now, relentless.

  Gavina peaked again, pleasure thrumming through her with each thrust. She couldn’t bear it, and yet she felt as if she’d die if he stopped.

  She gasped things to him, heated, sultry things she’d never dare say in other circumstances. She told him how much she ached for him, how he brought her alive.

  Tears streaked her face once more as she shattered around his shaft again.

  Above her, Draco’s face was a study in feral lust, his skin drawn tight over high cheek bones. He continued to take her in thrusts that were becoming increasingly desperate. He bucked and rocked against her, and Gavina’s body turned molten. She clung to him, as if they lay in the midst of a tempest and only he could shelter her.

  And when he climaxed, both their cries echoed down the empty shore.

  It took Gavina a long while to come back to earth afterward. At first, neither of them spoke, the ragged sound of their breathing mingling with the rumble of the waves and the murmur of the wind.

  For a while, all Gavina could do was cling to him, as she attempted to recover from the madness that had swept them both up in its clutches. With him in her arms, she could believe that this man was truly hers.

  Letting out a deep sigh, Draco heaved himself up off her, onto his elbows. “Am I crushing you?” he asked, his voice husky.

  “No,” Gavina replied truthfully. She loved the weight of his body upon hers. He was still buried inside her, and she never wanted him to leave. Never wanted this night to end.

  Still propped up on his elbows, Draco’s gaze sought hers. He then favored Gavina with a lopsided smile that made her chest ache. “You were right … I did forget.”

  Gavina tried to smile, although the expression was wobbly. Even now, she could feel the magic they’d spun fading away, like morning mist burning off under the first rays of sunlight. “I wish it could have been more than that,” she whispered. “If only passion could break the curse.”

  He stared down at her, his expression suddenly vulnerable. “I don’t think I’m capable of love, Gavina … but if I were, it would be you I’d give my heart to. Only you.”

  The ache in Gavina’s chest increased. How she longed to reveal what lay in her own heart. And yet she was still reeling from the discovery herself.

  When exactly had her feelings begun to change? She wasn’t entirely sure. Perhaps when they’d actually conversed for the first time, rather than verbally sparring, and she’d discovered how loyal he was to his friends. With each interaction since then, she’d become increasingly ‘aware’ of him. And then when they’d been together in her bed-chamber, and he’d unbound her hair and run his hands through it, she’d realized things were about to get complicated between them.

  Gavina hadn’t lost her heart to anyone before. However, when she stared up into Draco’s proud face, into dark eyes that a woman could drown in, she knew she was lost.

  Now was her chance to tell him so—and yet she held her tongue.

  He’d just told her that he didn’t love her; admitting her own feelings would just make things awkward, would make h
im feel pressured.

  Love couldn’t be forced.

  The curse would know the difference—and so would she.

  When the first glow of dawn lightened the eastern sky, they rose from the cloaks and pulled on their clothing.

  After their lovemaking, they’d fallen asleep awhile, drained by the night’s events. But eventually, Draco had stirred.

  “It’s time to go back,” he’d announced softly.

  Pulling on her lèine, Gavina glanced around. The shingle beach was still deserted, although the fishermen in Stonehaven would already be up and about. Indeed, it was time to leave.

  Her gaze shifted south, toward the rooftops of Stonehaven. Dunnottar was just out of sight, and Longshanks would be readying himself for the next assault.

  It would be so easy never to go back, the thought arose unbidden, and Gavina clenched her jaw. Aye, it would be. She could turn and flee, run north, and leave Dunnottar to fall.

  But she never would.

  She hadn’t been happy with David De Keith, but when she became his wife, she’d also become part of his clan. After a while, she’d grown to love Dunnottar and its people.

  She’d not abandon them to their fate.

  Slinging her cloak about her shoulders, she joined Draco, and together they pushed the boat down into the water.

  Gavina climbed in first, and then Draco leaped on board. Grabbing the oars, he propelled the small craft out through the rolling surf. However, once they were beyond the waves, Gavina realized there was something amiss.

  Cold seawater was soaking through her boots.

  She tensed, remembering the sound the hull of the rowboat had made when they’d dragged it out of the water the evening before.

  “We’re taking on water,” she announced.

  Draco, who’d been occupied till now with rowing, glanced down to see an inch or two of water in the bottom. “Damn it,” he muttered. “Let’s hope she holds until we get back to Dunnottar. I don’t fancy a swim. The North Sea is frigid … no matter the time of year.”

  A chill feathered across Gavina’s skin, and she swallowed. “I can’t swim,” she murmured.

  Draco’s face tensed. “Well then … another reason why we can’t sink.”

  Although he did his best not to let Gavina see his worry, Draco tensed when he saw the boat was taking on water. The approach through the breakwater to the cliffs was perilous enough at the best of times—navigating it with a sinking boat would likely spell disaster.

  Clenching his jaw, he rowed on, sweat beading on his forehead from the effort.

  He couldn’t let Gavina come to any harm.

  His gaze strayed to her then, despite that his focus needed to be on rowing. Perched at the stern of the rowboat, her hair newly braided, she’d never looked lovelier to him.

  It was difficult not to stare, not to drink her in.

  Draco yanked his attention away and glanced down at his feet. The ice-cold North Sea was now creeping over his boots. Soon it would reach his ankles.

  This was the last journey the wee boat would ever make.

  Draco rowed on, ignoring the protesting muscles in his shoulders and upper arms as he pushed himself.

  The exertion felt good. It was a distraction from his own thoughts, and from the strange ache deep within his chest.

  An ache he didn’t understand.

  Last night would be etched on his eternal soul. No matter what came now, he’d never forget it.

  Edward of England was close to taking Dunnottar, and when the ‘Battle Hammer’ bashed down the gates, everything would change. Gavina would be taken from him—whether by death or incarceration, he’d lose her.

  The thought made Draco’s gut twist.

  He clenched his fingers around the oars, forcing himself to concentrate. What was wrong with him? He’d actually wept last night—when he’d told Gavina his story. He hadn’t cried since his entombment, since the smothering dark had finally ripped away the last of his defenses.

  Last night had been strange, a moment out of time. He certainly hadn’t felt like himself.

  But now, as the first rays of dawn warmed his face, reality crashed back down upon him. With a jolt, he realized that he no longer felt numb. Instead, an odd sort of grief gripped his chest.

  A loud rumbling sound filled Draco’s ears then, distracting him.

  “We’re approaching Dunnottar,” Gavina informed him, for she faced the direction of travel. “Edward’s resumed his attack.”

  Draco nodded, his fingers tightening around the oars.

  And as they inched closer to the fortress, the water in the bottom deepened, rising to their ankles now and making the boat sink low in the water.

  “Take off your cloak,” Draco shouted over the thunder of surf pounding against the rocks. He heard the edge to his voice, betraying his worry. “This will get rough … and if you go overboard, a cloak will only drag you down.”

  Face pale and taut, Gavina did as bid. She then gripped onto the edge of the boat as seawater sprayed over them both.

  Taking his own advice, Draco shucked off his cloak too, and then he propelled the boat into shore, catching a wave.

  The roar of the sea swallowed up Gavina’s cry of fright. The wave lifted them high, and suddenly the cliff walls were racing toward them. They rode the wave in, and then Draco let go of the oars, lunging for Gavina instead.

  His hand clasped hers. “Jump!” he yelled. “Now!”

  The wave surged onto the rocks, bringing the small wooden craft with it.

  The boat splintered, and its occupants flew forward, rolling over the wet, seaweed-strewn rocks.

  Freezing water surged over them, dragging them back out to sea. Draco grabbed the edge of a rock, his boots digging against the lip of another boulder, while Gavina clung to his hand.

  The strength of the retreating wave pulled at them both, but he managed to drag them to safety.

  They were both gasping for breath, seawater dripping off them, when they climbed up the rocks. And there, a few feet away, the rope ladder hung, awaiting them.

  “I never want to get in a boat again,” Gavina managed through chattering teeth. “Never!”

  Draco put an arm around her shoulders. “Come on.” He gently pushed her toward the ladder. “The others will be waiting for us … let’s go.”

  XXX

  NOT SIMPLE AT ALL

  GAVINA FUMBLED A little when she attempted to climb the ladder. The chill of the water and fright of being ejected from the boat and nearly swept out to sea had made her shaky. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself upward, her gaze trained upon the cliff wall.

  Don’t look down.

  Going up was just as frightening as the descent had been. Even more so, for she wasn’t looking forward to clambering over the ledge at the top.

  “That’s it,” Draco called up. “Not much farther … just a few more yards.”

  His voice steadied her. Forcing herself on, Gavina continued to climb, and a short while later, she reached the ledge.

  “What now?” she called down to Draco.

  In answer, he gave a shrill whistle, the sound carrying above the rumble of the surf below, the cry of gulls, and the thunder of the assault on the castle.

  Glancing up, she spied a strong male hand, which had just appeared over the ledge.

  “Take it!” Cassian Gaius’s voice echoed down to Gavina. “I’ll pull you up.”

  Gavina hesitated. She was reluctant to let go of the rope and grab the captain’s hand. What if she pulled him off the ledge and they both fell to their deaths?

  “All’s well, Gavina,” Draco reassured her, his voice closer now. “Take his hand … Cassian will look after you.”

  His words gave her the courage she needed. Taking a deep breath, Gavina let go of the ladder with her right hand and stretched it up. Cassian’s hand clasped hers, the strength of it making her catch her breath.

  A moment later, she was being pulled upward, as if she weighed nothing
, up and over the ledge to safety.

  “My Lady!” Aila was there at Cassian’s side, her hands reaching for Gavina and pulling her away from the edge.

  Gavina staggered away on wobbly legs, turning to see Cassian help Draco up over the stone shelf.

  A few feet away, standing before the archway to the dungeons, Maximus and Heather looked on.

  “Well?” Cassian asked, facing Draco as he climbed to his feet. “Was the wise woman any help?”

  Draco’s face shuttered. Watching him, Gavina’s breathing quickened. So much had happened over the past night. How could they possibly explain things?

  “Yes, we’re fine, thank you. And yes and no … in answer to your question,” Draco replied, meeting his friend’s eye.

  Cassian frowned. “What kind of answer is that?” he asked.

  “An honest one.” Draco’s voice was strangely subdued, his dark eyes still wary.

  “What did she say?” Heather stepped forward, her gaze seeking Gavina’s. Since Draco was speaking in riddles, she clearly hoped the lady would give a clearer answer.

  Gavina tensed. Suddenly, she was loath to share what had happened in Stonehaven. It seemed too personal, too raw, to talk about just yet.

  But Heather’s gaze was imploring, hopeful. Gavina didn’t have the heart to deny her.

  “In order for the curse to be broken, Draco and I must be in love,” Gavina said finally.

  Silence followed these words.

  Heather and Aila shared a long look, whereas both Cassian and Maximus wore bemused expressions, as if Gavina had just delivered her news in another tongue and they were struggling to comprehend her.

  “It’s that simple?” Maximus finally asked, his tone incredulous.

  Draco barked a humorless laugh. “Simple?”

  Maximus’s brow furrowed. “Well, isn’t it?”