She sat on a rock with her back to him and never peeked once as he made quick work of washing. While a part of him was grateful she never looked, another grew frustrated. Mainly his cock. He frowned as he waded out, more conflicted than he ought to be at the disagreement between his mind and body. He had always been strong when it came to lasses. He could easily turn them away if he wanted to.
“Och, enough already!” she suddenly declared. “If ye want him just take him!”
He stopped short as Lindsay stood abruptly and turned his way. Had she just spoken with a brogue? Her appreciative eyes raked over him as she sauntered his way. His jaw dropped at the sultry look on her face. The way she licked her full lips. The lust in her large eyes. What truly caught his attention though?
She wasn’t acting in the least.
So what was she doing? Better yet why wasn’t he getting dressed? Why wasn’t he turning from her as he had back at the beginning? Instead, he stood there unmoving as she stopped in front of him, her bold eyes again taking in everything before they lingered on his cock. “Oh, my,” she whispered, her lips curling up ever-so-slightly before her eyes roamed up his body followed by a hand that brazenly grazed his manhood before she touched more.
He barely breathed as her soft fingers followed the v above his cock to the muscles of his abdomen before she sauntered around him. “Just look at ye.”
There it was again. That brogue. Yet he was frozen in place, eager for the next touch, for more of the way she was looking at him.
“Laird Hamilton,” she whispered before she came around again, stood on her tip-toes and pulled his lips down to hers. It didn’t matter that something was off. Not when their mouths connected.
Suddenly it felt like they were right back at Stirling Bridge, and then in his dungeons. The same passion flared. Strong, unrelenting, it made turning her away impossible. So he yanked her against him before his tongue began exploring. Tasting. Like before, they were perfectly matched, their tongues swirling, and tempting. Teasing. He dug his fingers into her warm, silky hair and tilted her head to deepen the kiss further.
Lindsay groaned and pressed against him, her hand still exploring as he lifted her, and settled her on a waist-high rock. She spread her legs, welcoming, tempting even more. His cock throbbed almost painfully he wanted her so badly.
He needed to finally have what she so willingly offered.
Hungry, desperate for more, he continued to dip his tongue in and out of her mouth as he started to push up her skirts. He knew he should stop, that this was a very bad idea, but he was beyond reason, his desire for her far too great.
“Lindsay,” he groaned seconds before Milly exclaimed from the entrance, “I knew we shouldn’t have come this way! Didn’t I tell you, Adlin?”
Conall and Lindsay froze as their eyes shot Milly’s way only to see her and Adlin backing away. His cousin called out, “Sorry then!” not looking sorry in the least before they vanished altogether.
“Oh my God,” Lindsay whispered as her wide, confused eyes turned his way. “What just happened?” She frowned and pressed against his chest. “And how did we end up here?”
Chapter Nine
LINDSAY FROZE WITH her hand on Conall’s hard chest and simply stared into his gorgeous, very startled eyes. What had just happened? What did she do?
“I—” she started and shook her head, not sure what to say she was so thrown off balance and wildly aroused. He was completely nude and pressed against her. She bit her lower lip at the feel of him between her thighs. His heavy erection had nothing but a bit of material keeping it from going where she so wanted it to go right now.
“Och, I’m sorry,” he muttered and pulled back so abruptly, she almost fell right off the rock. Instead, her eyes fell down his body, again drinking in the sight of him. He was built like a damn mythological god with his strong legs, slim hips, washboard abs, broad shoulders and muscular arms. Yet her eyes kept getting drawn back to the admirable thickness between his legs. For shit’s sake, never mind being a butt double, he could easily hold his own in a pornographic movie.
“Bloody hell,” he grunted before he muttered a chant and turned away, leaving her with a fully clothed backside to admire. She tore her eyes away from him, shook her head and came to her feet, still trying to make sense of what just happened.
“That wasn’t me,” she blurted then swallowed hard when his eyes met hers again. “At least not at first.”
“I know,” he ground out, clearly more aggravated with himself than her as he raked a hand through his wet hair. His brogue was far thicker than normal, his R’s rolling. “Ye were possessed, and I took advantage of ye.” He frowned and looked at her with disappointment in his eyes, his breathing just as heavy as hers. “I am truly sorry, lass.” He shook his head. “I knew ye werenae yerself yet I...”
When he trailed off, angry with himself, she debated how much to tell him. While yes, she had felt controlled by another as she sauntered his way and touched him, the feeling had fled the moment he kissed her.
Then she was just lost but very much herself until Milly and Adlin showed up.
Lindsay pressed her lips together and shook her head. If they had not appeared, she would have eagerly and very willingly had sex with Conall. And, oh, she knew it was going to feel unbelievable. She had never been so aroused and ready in her life.
“It’s okay,” she managed, deciding against telling him the truth. If she did, she would be admitting her interest in him, and that was the last thing she should do. Or so she kept telling herself as he crouched at the pool’s edge and splashed water on his face. He might have just bathed, but she suspected he wanted to submerge his whole body in the frigid water again. Or so said his raging erection.
“Tell me about what possessed you,” he finally said as he stood and faced her. His brogue seemed under control again. “Did it feel evil? Do you believe it might have been the warlock?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Not at all on both counts.” She cleared her throat. “It felt...” Seductive. Teasing. Practiced. Powerful. “It felt like a woman.”
“A lass?” He frowned. “Are you sure she didnae feel evil? Warlocks can be lasses too.”
“I’m sure,” she murmured and shook her head. “No, she definitely wasn’t evil.” She pondered it as she absently twirled her ring. “If anything, she felt familiar.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “How so?”
“I’m not sure but...” Her words died away as her eyes fell to her ring. “It’s changed colors again, Conall.”
“You used my name,” he said unintentionally based on his expression before he redirected his focus to her gem. “I dinnae recognize that shade of blue.”
She shook her head. “Me either.”
“’Twould have to match the eyes of whoever you might have become, aye?” he murmured as he took her hand and peered at it. Her breath caught at the physical contact. At how the roaring need between her legs that had barely dulled fired right back to life.
Clearly sensing it, his eyes shot to hers before he released her hand and stepped back. But not before she saw the flash of fear. Not before she saw far more than he likely wanted her to. Losing both his father and Fraser had truly damaged him. Maybe beyond repair. It didn't matter that it had not been the loss of a woman he loved, it had been family members he loved and it cut deep.
It was easier for him to remain adrift than to make connections and she well understood. Milly, Christina, and Jessie were a fluke. Growing close to them had been strangely unavoidable, but they were the only ones since her parents had died. And, as she eyed Conall warily, they were more than enough. She didn't need something deeper.
She did not need to fall in love.
“Whilst we are both likely ready to return to the others,” he said. “’Twould be wise to begin training as soon as possible.” His eyes didn’t quite meet hers. “Now, preferably...unless you need time to gather yourself.”
She feared
she was long past gathering herself, especially when it came to him, but dutifully tried to pretend otherwise.
“No, I’m fine. And I agree.” She really did though she understood his need to remove himself from any possible intimacy. “Where do we begin...Laird Hamilton?”
His jaw tightened at her use of his title, but he nodded once as if agreeing with her decision to call him that again. At least, for the moment, they were no longer bickering. Rather, since they woke up, he seemed different somehow. The way he spoke and looked at her had changed.
Her thoughts went to the night before. Flashes of nightmares from her childhood, then peace. A sort of peace and warmth she had never felt before. Or had she? For a moment upon waking, she related that peace with snippets from the night Conall had taken her out of Grant’s arms and away from Stirling Bridge. Flashes of how he had held and comforted her.
When she opened her eyes this morning she was almost surprised she wasn’t in his arms. That he was not holding her like he had that night. But no, he was sitting there, stoic as ever looking like he hadn’t slept in ages. If anything, his eyes appeared haunted.
So what happened? Because he had treated her oddly since. Yes, he still kept his distance but he wasn’t quite so brash. While she could chalk it up to him learning about her gift to enchant rather than blindly seducing men, she sensed it was more.
Then again, she sensed stranger and stranger things from him. Or more so his thoughts. Especially the hairless faery in the tree. She wished she hadn’t heard those thoughts because they were bizarrely relatable. If for no other reason, than that she had been bald at one point in her life.
“Though we both know I dinnae ken your particular gift, I do ken magic verra well,” he began as he leaned against the rock opposite her. “The place to start when learning about your gift is at the verra beginning. The first time you used it and what caused it to happen.”
As if she would tell him that anytime this century.
“’Tis doubtful you are ready to share as much yet though so I’ll share my first time,” he provided, evidently seeing the reluctant look on her face. “I was nearly nine winters old.” A wry grin tugged at his lips. “A late bloomer, my kin said.”
“So you were eight,” she murmured, stating the obvious as a chill went through her.
“Aye.” He nodded. “I was at MacLomain Castle with Adlin. Not surprising in retrospect.”
“Why?” She relaxed as he did, caught by the sudden light in his eyes. A side of him she had never seen.
“Well, Adlin was who he was, but a mess at it.” He chuckled. Actually chuckled. “He had a bad habit of thinking he was all-powerful from a verra young age, and though he was stronger than most with magic, he was, as a rule, overambitious.”
She couldn’t stop a small smile at Conall’s nostalgia. “How so?”
“’Twas the tree outside his castle,” he began. “A magical bonnie tree born of many. A MacLomain and Broun tree if ever there was one.”
“Really?”
“Aye.” He nodded. “It has a long history. One I’ll share someday mayhap.”
No sooner did the words leave his mouth then his posture tensed. She didn’t blame him. His words skirted too close to hinting that they might know each other far into the future. She inhaled deeply and almost shook her head as her own shoulders grew tight. Not, she was shocked to realize, because of a potential someday that existed between them, but because there might not be.
As if eager to relieve the sudden tension, he continued. “Adlin doesnae have just one element like the rest of us. Instead, he controls all and at that age, was rather proud of it.”
“Oh no,” she murmured, biting back a small smile. “What did he do?”
“’Twas more about what he did not do.” He shook his head, that same small smile curling his lips again. “He boasted that the tree and all its creatures were his to command. That every last leaf would blow in the wind if he commanded it. That every last creature would sleep if he willed it. None were so powerful as he.”
She flinched. “It sounds like he was playing God.”
“Aye.” He nodded. “He’s said the same many times since and regrets it.” He shrugged. “Yet he got his comeuppance in a way most unfortunate considering the trail of wee lassies following him.”
Lindsay met his smirk. “How old was he?”
“Only a few winters older than I.”
“And girls were following him?”
“Aye.” He looked confused. “Werenae lads following you around at that age?”
Something about the way his words grew softer alarmed her. Almost as if he had an inkling of her at that age. Lindsay simply shook her head in response and urged him to continue.
“So, showing off for the lasses, Adlin cast this great magical spell on the tree,” he said. “One, by all accounts, that worked. It appeared the entire tree slumbered. No leaves moved, the air grew stagnant, and even a squirrel or two plunked peacefully to the ground sound asleep.”
Lindsay barely breathed as he continued.
“Unfortunately for him, something in that tree didnae rest and made him a bit of a laughing stock for some time,” Conall said, his tone changed, fonder almost. “Because whatever it was made the branches shake, and whipped acorns at him.”
Breathe Lindsay, she whispered internally. This is just pure coincidence. Nothing more.
“Then what?” she managed. “How was this the first time you used your gift?”
“I apologized to the tree for Adlin’s behavior,” he stated simply. “Then I flung my arms in the air, chanted, and finally did what I had been trying so long to do. I manipulated the air and allowed the tree to return to normal.”
“You allowed it?” she whispered, remembering all too well a day like this. Or maybe it had been a dream.
“Aye.” He nodded. “I thanked the tree for being patient with Adlin then I used my magic and freed it to resume its normal routine. Being part of life.” Conall shook his head. “What happened that day set me on the path to embracing my gift fully.”
“I see,” she whispered and did her best to keep an even expression, praying all the while he would not sense her thoughts as he seemed quick to do lately. “Fascinating.”
Their conversation was beginning to take on a surreal feel. As though she was awakening from something she always thought was a dream but really wasn’t. As if perhaps those long days spent alone healing really weren’t a figment of her imagination. That they might have, somehow, actually happened.
“The point of my story is that I came into my gift,” he continued. “When I did, I understood what was at the root of it.”
“And what was that?” she asked softly, wondering perhaps if he really was at the root of it. Or could it have been the faery in the tree helping him?
“Lack of fear,” he stated simply. “Acceptance that I possessed something that could help that tree. That I could help, period.” He gave her a telling look. “Much like you blindly do for others. That is why ‘twould be best to go back to the first time you used your gift so that we can better establish the reasons it became active within you.”
“I was young,” she said absently if not a bit breathlessly. “I can hardly remember.”
“You are lying,” he stated calmly.
“I am not,” she responded just as calmly.
They crossed their arms over their chests at the same time as they continued.
“Mayhap if you arenae ready to share those details,” he said, “you would begin by telling me what you did when you used magic for the first time.”
“I can’t remember.”
“Then mayhap where you were.”
“I can’t recall.”
“Then mayhap,” his eyes narrowed, “how using your gift for the first time made you feel.”
“Confused,” she said before she could stop herself. But something about the way he was looking at her, the genuine help he tried to offer, made her able to share. T
hat part of the memory at least.
“Aye, ‘tis confusing for many of us the first time we use our gift.” That same semi-amused look was back in his eyes as, she realized, he attempted to lighten the mood. “But imagine being able to put the likes of Adlin MacLomain in his place when you do it.”
“That must have been something,” she acknowledged, smiling. “I can only imagine.”
And she truly could. Far more than he knew, she feared.
“Did you feel anything else but confusion?” he asked.
“Yes,” she murmured. “Fear.” Her voice grew softer, yet her eyes stayed with his. “Terrible fear.”
“’Tis normal, lass.” Conall never looked away but shifted closer, his arms still firmly locked over his chest as he considered her and his gaze softened. “There isnae anything like that first moment when you know you’ve controlled something else. That you’ve manipulated your surroundings in a way most humans could never imagine.” His eyes held hers as he paused, his voice gentler than ever. “’Tis a verra lonely feeling in some ways.”
Their eyes held for a moment before she finally found her voice. “Yet you had family who used magic. Which gave you so many people to talk to about it. Some, even, that controlled air just like you.”
“Aye,” he agreed. “I was verra lucky.” He moved even closer, not in a sensual way by any means. No, she sensed he wanted to be there for her and truly help her. “Yet here you are, Lindsay, a full grown adult using your gift in such an admirable way. Aye, you need training and ‘tis to be expected given you had no one to help you along the way, but you are by no means flailing, lass.”
He cocked his head, considered her and continued. “You truly are verra powerful, and I’m impressed you’ve managed to keep as much control over your magic as you have. That said, I hope you will allow me to help you redirect it a wee bit.” His voice remained soft, his eyes more intense. “I hope you will allow me to help you bring to life your oak without losing your own life in the meantime.”
The MacLomain Series: A New Beginning Boxed Set (Books 1-4) Page 39
