Brenda Joyce, Terri Brisbin, Michelle Willingham

by Highlanders - The Warriorand the Rose; The Forbidden Highlander; Rescued by the Highland Warrior

  “Was I the only one, then?”

  Her heartbeat shuddered, and she was held captive by his deep voice. “Your kiss was the only one that ever mattered.”

  His arms encircled her waist, and she didn’t stop him when he leaned in to claim her mouth. The kiss began with heated breath, firm and coaxing. She was lost in the touch of his mouth while his hands rested upon her hips. His mouth offered an invitation, not a conquest. When she opened to him, kissing him back, it transformed entirely.

  Memories poured through her, of the way he’d taught her to kiss. Of the stolen moments when they’d practiced with each other.

  She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t hold a clear thought while his hot mouth was upon hers. Heat pulsed through her body, her blood awakening as his tongue slid against hers. Bold and unrestrained, his tongue thrust against hers, demanding her surrender.

  Without understanding why, her arms moved around his neck, and his hard body pressed against hers. She could feel his arousal against the juncture of her thighs, and the pressure wasn’t at all frightening. Instead, she curved against him, welcoming his strength against her softness. Between her legs, there was an aching emptiness.

  Desire. Need like she’d not experienced before was there in the way his tongue moved within her mouth. She wanted him to bare her skin, to feel his mouth kissing her everywhere. A shudder rocked through her when he rubbed himself against her.

  When he released her, his dark eyes were raging. “Stay away from me, Lady Eiloch. Unless you plan to finish what we started.”

  With that, he strode away, leaving her with weak knees and a pounding heart.

  CHAPTER THREE

  WITH BURNING CHEEKS, Celeste moved back to the crowd of MacKinlochs. There was music and she saw the chief, Alex MacKinloch, with his wife, Laren, seated beside him at table. He leaned over to whisper in her ear, and the woman blushed, sending him a secret smile.

  All around were men and women stealing away for a moment alone. Even Nairna was dancing with her husband, Bram, their eyes locked on each other.

  Celeste stood back from them, feeling as though anyone could see the guilt on her face.

  Now she understood why he’d kissed her. Dougal wanted retribution for the way she’d left him. He wanted to remind her of the passion between them, showing her what she’d turned away. And he would be the one to leave her now.

  Dougal might be willing to take her into his bed—but not as an act of love. She felt certain he would use it as vengeance against her.

  It doesn’t matter, she tried to tell her broken conscience. What matters is protecting Melisandre.

  She would have to fight for her share of the inheritance, and the idea made her weary just to think of it. By law, she was owed a portion of property to live upon. But to be forced out of her home, her sister’s dowry taken...it was too much to think of.

  Celeste walked toward the food, feeling suddenly hungry. Was there another way out of this, other than returning with a child in her womb? It was such a desperate act, and there was no guarantee that she would even give birth. Especially with Rowena plotting against her, wanting her to miscarry. The weight of her troubles pressed down upon her, and Celeste forced back the tears.

  She couldn’t weep. Tears would solve nothing at all. Instead, she reached for a cup of mead and drained it quickly, before accepting another. Without enough food in her stomach, the second drink made her light-headed. It didn’t matter. She wanted to rid herself of the thoughts of failure.

  She watched the other women, at the way they flirted. Without bothering to hide her interest, she rested her cheek against one hand and stared. No one had ever taught her how to attract a man’s interest. When she had met Dougal at Locharr, he had made his interest known. He had come there to train with the baron’s men, and she’d been fascinated by him from the first.

  He’d found many reasons to be near her, until soon enough, they were stealing away to be alone.

  Just like the men and women here, though she and Dougal had never been lovers.

  Celeste drank another glass of mead, watching as one woman caught a man’s eye, smiled at him, and then went to speak to a different man.

  Interesting. Was that what she should be doing? Instead of throwing herself at Dougal, should she be pursuing another man instead? Intrigued by the idea, she reached for a piece of mutton, nodding in welcome when Nairna sat down.

  “Are you enjoying yourself, Lady Eiloch?”

  “You may call me Celeste,” she corrected. “And yes, I am. It was kind of you to host a gathering for me.”

  “Where has Dougal gone?” Nairna asked. “Have you seen him?”

  Not since I kissed him, and he ordered me to stay away.

  “A while ago, he showed me the horses.” She toyed with her goblet.

  Nairna sobered. “He spends far too much time with the animals. He needs a wife.” Eyeing her closer, she added, “Have you considered him as a possibility?”

  “I don’t think Dougal has any interest in wedding a woman like me,” Celeste said. She stood up and the ground seemed unsteady beneath her feet. “He’d prefer one of your maidens, I suppose.”

  “Then why is he staring at you?” Nairna countered, nodding toward the opposite side of the crowd. Celeste followed her gaze to where she saw Dougal holding his own cup of mead. Just as the woman had said, he was watching her.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered. But the earlier kiss lingered with her still. She knew he’d done it to prove a point—that Edmon was nothing compared to him.

  And she was well aware of it. She excused herself from Nairna, wanting to be alone. She skirted the crowd, moving closer to where a large bonfire blazed. Sparks drifted into the night sky, and several children danced while another clan member played the pipes.

  “Dance with me?” came the voice of a young boy, perhaps seven years old. His brown hair was cut short, and he had a smile that could charm any girl into doing what he wanted. Celeste couldn’t help but beam at him, and she took his hands. Several of the MacKinlochs were amused at the sight of them, but she was startled to find that the boy was quite good at dancing. He spun her around, and without meaning to, she started laughing. The mead, coupled with the dancing, made it nearly impossible to stand upright. But when she stumbled, another man caught her.

  “Mind yourself, lass. We wouldna want you to be burned this night.”

  Celeste thanked him, but instead of giving her back to the boy, the man kept her hands in his. This time, the song had finished and another began that was slower. His palm rested upon her spine, and he added, “Kerr, I’ll be dancing with the lady now. Find another and be off.”

  The boy looked disgruntled but did as he was ordered. Celeste stumbled again, but the man steadied her. “I am Robbie MacKinloch.”

  She ventured a smile, but the man’s confidence made her feel uncertain. He was broad chested, with strong arms and a sword at his side. He, too, could be a protector. And yet...she found herself wishing she could hide away from all men. She went through the motions of dancing with Robbie, dimly aware of their conversation.

  “Lady Eiloch?” He was waiting for an answer, and she realized she hadn’t heard his question.

  “I’m sorry. What was that?”

  “I was asking if you’d like to walk with me by the loch.”

  Celeste glanced in the direction of the water, suddenly understanding that this man was offering exactly what she’d wanted—a private moment that could lead to more.

  And yet, she found herself unable to move. Every instinct told her no. Why had she ever thought she could do this? The idea of lying beneath a stranger was appalling.

  “Not just now,” she said to him, apologizing as she excused herself. She kept walking past the crowds, past Dougal, until she stood near the stone wall surrounding the castle of Glen Arrin. Ivy had wound its way through the stones, covering the gray in a veil of green.

  Footsteps sounded behind her, but she already knew who was
following her now.

  * * *

  “I WANT HER found,” Lady Rowena demanded. Lionel de Laurent removed his helm, and his expression was shielded. “You know what will happen if she has conceived a child.”

  “I do.”

  His voice was like iron, and Rowena took comfort from it. Lionel was a strong man, a husband who would not allow anyone to threaten the future of their children.

  “I have sent a dozen men in search of her,” he said quietly. “When the scouts return, we will bring her back, and that will be the end of it.” His gray eyes sharpened. “If she were with child, she would not have fled.”

  “You don’t know that. She might be trying to protect the babe.”

  Rowena would have done the same, were she in Celeste’s place. She would do anything to guard her sons and daughter. Just as she would do whatever was necessary to secure their future inheritance.

  She went to stand by the hearth in the solar, unable to stop herself from pacing. “There can be no child, Lionel.”

  “I know. But she has a strong reason to return. We hold her sister here.” Although her husband’s words were calm, Rowena took comfort in that. It was true that they could use Melisandre if necessary.

  She smiled. “Perhaps we should send her a token to remind her of what she’s left behind.” A garment or perhaps Melisandre’s long braid. “Something to lure her back.”

  Her husband did not smile. Instead, his gaze hardened. “We will find Celeste. Whether or not we bring her back alive depends upon her obedience.”

  * * *

  DOUGAL FOLLOWED CELESTE beyond the crowd of people, deeper into the shadows. Although she likely knew he was there, she didn’t speak. Only when he came to stand at her side did she admit, “Don’t do this to me, Dougal. I don’t want to be your enemy anymore.”

  She turned to face him, and the look of anguish in her eyes was a blow to his gut. “I can’t go back and change the decisions I made. But it hurts me even more to see how much you’ve come to hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you,” he said quietly. “But I wish you hadn’t returned.”

  “They don’t know about me, do they?” She gripped her arms, the sadness evident. “You never told them.”

  “There was no reason to.” He was glad he hadn’t. At least then he could maintain his pride. “And if you say anything, I’ll deny it.”

  Her face grew pensive. “I had my reasons for the choice I made. And I don’t regret marrying Edmon. I only regret hurting you.”

  It wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear. He’d wanted her to say that she’d made a terrible mistake, that she’d wanted to wed him. Not a Norman lord who’d given her silks and hundreds of acres.

  “I suppose it was good that we didn’t wed. For I now know that gold was more important to you than anything else.”

  She looked stricken at his words, and they’d hurt her the way he’d wanted them to. But to her credit, she made no denial.

  “I never forgot you. Not then, and not now.” She squared her shoulders and faced him. “I want you to go back with me. Be my escort and help me to protect Melisandre.”

  He dug a little deeper for more information. “Have you no one else to help? Uncles or cousins?”

  “My uncles live far to the south. Even if we did journey there, we might not find them. They’re mercenary knights.” She finally turned back to him. “I need a way of protecting her and—” From the bleak expression on her face, he could see the dark fears. “I don’t want to give up on Eiloch,” she said. “Part of it is mine, by law. I want to fight for it. And you will have your reward if you come with me.”

  If he traveled with her to Eiloch, every hour would be nothing short of torment. Even now, her beauty was a siren’s call, tempting him to cast aside common sense and accompany her on this futile quest.

  God help him, no. He would not let her talk him into this. He’d kissed her because he wanted to punish her for choosing another man. To show her what it would have been like, had she wed him. Instead, it had only fired up the dormant feelings of desire.

  “Please,” she whispered. Without waiting for his refusal, she brushed past him, and her scent invaded his mind. Reminding him of the way she’d kissed him back, clinging to him.

  Dougal waited for several minutes before returning to the bonfire. The contests had begun, and he saw other men lining up across from one another, bare chested. The MacKinlochs enjoyed challenging one another in physical sparring, and his brothers were among those who fought.

  “I’ve been wanting the chance to fight you again, Dougal,” came the voice of Robbie. The man had removed his tunic and wore only trews. He had already defeated several men in wrestling, and his gaze narrowed upon Dougal.

  This was not about physical prowess. In Robbie’s eyes, Dougal had caught a hint of jealousy. He wanted to unman Dougal before the others, to prove himself a better protector for Celeste.

  It wouldn’t happen. Dougal had nothing to prove, for all the MacKinlochs had seen him defeat Robbie with no weapons, save his hands and his agility.

  “I’ve bested you already,” he told Robbie. “I’ve no need to do it again.” The laughter and murmurs of approval surrounded him, as he crossed to stand by his brothers.

  “Are you afraid you can’t manage it a second time?” Robbie flexed his muscles, showing off his arms as he walked around the fire.

  “No. I’ve simply no desire to humiliate you before the women.”

  It was the truth, but Robbie viewed the words as a taunt. “Come and fight, MacKinloch,” he dared, beckoning.

  * * *

  CELESTE DIDN’T WANT either of them to fight, for she sensed that she would somehow end up caught in the middle. She had already made her decision and had no intention of letting the outcome be decided by a sparring match.

  She wanted Dougal to be her champion. Not only because he was a strong man, easily able to guard her...but also because she wanted to heal the enmity between them.

  “Don’t fight over me,” she asked, standing between the men. “Please.”

  “I would be glad to serve you,” Robbie said. His gaze turned heated and he added, “In any way you would have me.”

  There were suggestive comments uttered by the crowd and a few whistles. His offer embarrassed her, though it was made in teasing. It was what she’d set out to do...find a man who would defend her, claim her and give her the bairn she needed. Undoubtedly, Robbie MacKinloch would do anything she asked. Yet, it felt terribly wrong.

  She met his gaze for a moment, then turned to look at Dougal. He’d stepped back, as if he’d predicted her decision and didn’t care what she did. When she studied his face, it was devoid of all emotion. If she walked away with Robbie this very moment, Dougal would do nothing to stop her.

  But she didn’t want Robbie. She wanted the man whose kiss had shaken her out of slumber, into a moment where her world was made real again. Where she no longer felt so desperately alone.

  “You are a brave fighter,” she said to Robbie after a long pause, “and I am grateful to you for the offer.” She squared her shoulders, facing the crowd. “But I have already asked Dougal MacKinloch to be my guard.”

  The color in Robbie’s face darkened. She tried not to look at him, but instead stared at Dougal. His brown eyes had narrowed, his mouth taut with banked fury.

  He didn’t want this at all—she understood that. But she’d put him in a position where he could say nothing to deny her, without doing so in front of everyone.

  She moved through the people, seeking her own retreat, but Dougal was pushing his way past his brother’s wife, heading straight toward her.

  To her shock, he spoke loud enough for others to hear. “Robbie is a skilled fighter. And he would still go in my place if you asked it of him.”

  He was telling her no, admitting his reluctance before everyone. It would only be right to accept his reasons and let him go. But she was not willing to give up just yet. Instead, she continued h
er retreat, moving far away from the others so that no one would overhear them.

  “I have not asked it of him,” she responded quietly. “I’ve asked it of you.”

  A dark rage slid across Dougal’s face. “You do not command me,” he said, his voice like the edge of a blade. “You do not come into my home and make demands.”

  “I asked for help—”

  “There was no asking.” He moved forward and gripped her around the waist. All of a sudden, her decision no longer seemed like a sound one. She hadn’t considered his response would be this angry.

  “Where are you taking me? I’m not going anywhere.” She twisted against him, but he countered by lifting her up. She tried to fight his grasp, but his strength far overpowered hers.

  “I’m taking you somewhere we can talk without a thousand ears listening.” He strode farther away from the others, her waist tight in his grasp.

  She went motionless, realizing what this could mean. He took her outside the gates and toward the dozens of small crofters’ homes, with thatched roofs and walls made of mud. A dark memory assailed her, of living in a house hardly fit for pigs, much less her mother and siblings.

  He led her into a home so small, she could cross the room in three strides. A small pallet lay on one end, and the peat fire had died down to coals.

  Calm yourself, she ordered. He wants only to talk.

  “This is where you live?” she asked.

  He nodded. “I built this place with my own hands. It’s enough for me.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he added, “Though I suppose you would look down on it.”

  She moved to the far wall, touching the wattle-and-daub walls. The cold surface brought up her anger. He made it sound as if she valued wealth over love. That wasn’t it at all.

  “No. There’s nothing wrong with your home.”

  “It wasn’t good enough for you when I asked you to marry me two years ago.” His words lashed at her, breaking down her emotions. “You chose a man you hardly knew because he owned hundreds of acres.”

  Her hands curled against the wood, and she didn’t bother to hide her tears. “You meant everything to me.”