Lindsay might have found Conall all naked and sexy threatening enough to her senses, but she could fight that. She could, with great effort, look away. But this version of him? This genuine, caring, open version of him? She was utterly defenseless.
Hell if her knees didn’t weaken just staring into his eyes right now.
Pull yourself together, Lindsay, she preached to herself. Do not let him get too close.
“I was a pre-teen when it happened,” she blurted out the lie. “Someone was being bullied in school, and I wanted to protect them.” Lindsay rubbed her lips together, summoned just the right amount of moisture in her eyes and whispered, “I didn’t know what to do. I was too much of a coward.” She swallowed hard and released a shaky sigh. “The next thing I knew I was seeing through the eyes of the girl getting teased and standing up for myself.” She narrowed her eyes. “I was telling those bullies where to go, and it felt great.”
That had actually happened...just at a much later date.
Conall, meanwhile, watched her with a detached eye. His lips thinned, and his brow furrowed more and more through her tiny tale. Afterward, he just contemplated her.
“What?” she murmured, still acting the part of a broken woman sharing her deepest secret.
He eyed her for another long moment before he shook his head and stepped back. “I think ‘twill take more time than anticipated to teach you.”
She frowned. “Why? I’m a quick learner.”
“You are also a quick liar.”
When she narrowed her eyes, he shrugged in return, uncrossed his arms, and again leaned against the rock opposite her. “Mayhap we should move on to something I can at least attest to. Something I was there for. What happened last night with the warlock.”
“Right.” Lindsay uncrossed her arms as well, braced her hands against the rock behind her, leaned forward a little and narrowed her eyes. “How was it again that you saw me with that warlock? Because it almost sounds like you may have used your magic against my will.”
“I cannae in all honesty explain how I followed you last night, lass,” he relented, taking the high road it seemed as his level eyes held hers. Gorgeous, piercing eyes that had a way of constantly making her feel off-kilter.
“What I can say,” he continued. “Was that you couldnae hold that warlock’s attention as long as you thought. And there was fear in your eyes when you realized it.”
Lindsay worked to keep her breathing even as she remembered it all too clearly. First seeing out of Graham’s eyes and feeling what he felt. The horror. The need to protect his kin then being paralyzed and speared by something unnatural.
“I couldn’t get it away from Graham fast enough,” she whispered as her eyes held Conall’s. “It was going to destroy him before Adlin or anyone had a chance to stop it.” Lindsay straightened her shoulders and locked her jaw against the pure power, the pure terror that had come at Graham. Most of which she took with her when she no longer saw through his eyes. He had been wounded and didn’t need that evil to corrupt not only his mind but his body. “So I lured it away.” She shrugged. “I looked into its eyes and did what I do best. Enchanted.”
There was no missing the struggle in Conall’s eyes as he tried to navigate how to educate her in this. It was clear he was concerned for her but was trying to accept that she had handled it. Though she had put her life on the line, she had survived and saved Graham in the process.
“How are you so sure of your gift?” he said softly. “How do you even know how to somewhat control it without guidance? Without help somewhere along the way?”
There had been help. Advice. But she wasn't sure he was ready for that yet.
Caught by his own curiosity it seemed, he closed the distance and stood a foot or so away. The look in his eyes mixed confusion with, if she were not mistaken, fear for her. He was raw right now. Not concerned in the least how he presented himself. He wanted answers. Ones that he could understand.
But did she have them to give?
As their eyes held, she realized she was not just talking to Conall or Laird Hamilton, but the wizard within. The very creature that had not only created but protected her the night before from razor sharp ice.
A man with eyes she was starting to recognize.
Eyes that had been tucked away in her mind for far too long.
She pulled her gaze away, terrified at the thought. Terrified that she might already care for him.
“Lindsay,” he whispered, suddenly way too close as his strong fingers tilted her chin until their eyes met again. She swore this was the moment. Would he recognize her? Was she right about him? “Ye cannae do that again, aye? Ye cannae lure pure evil without knowing ye are fully in control of yer gift. He could have killed ye.”
“I know,” she whispered because she thought for sure he might be connecting the dots as readily as her. She licked her lips and tried to keep a steady voice. “That’s why you’re teaching me, right?”
His eyes fell to her lips as he whispered, “Aye.”
Blood started pounding through her veins as his gaze lingered, as she became overly aware of the heat of his fingers. Then the path left in their wake as they trailed over her chin, down her neck then spanned her collarbone.
Their breathing became choppier as he continued to touch her, watching his hand as though it had a mind of its own. He trailed two fingers down until they hooked loosely over the material between her breasts.
He struggled. She could see it in the way his pupils flared, and his hand trembled slightly against her skin. He didn’t want to desire her any more than she did him.
Yet here they were.
Not teaching and learning but drowning in desire again.
He wasn’t stepping back, startled and polite or overly uptight. Instead, he remained close. The heat of his body melted through her dress despite the six inches or so between them. Though she knew very well what was likely coming, he didn’t shrug off his fur cloak or the tunic beneath.
Her chest tightened, and she all but stopped breathing as he slowly cupped her breast and brushed the pad of his thumb over her nipple. He weighed it and continued to caress it as his eyes returned to hers.
The man looking at her now was not entirely Conall but a bit of everything inside. A chieftain and a wizard. More than that, a man filled with lust he wasn’t, for the first time, trying all that hard to fight. Somewhere in there, she knew he knew he should stop...yet he didn’t.
Her breathing grew more ragged as his eyes stayed with hers, he smoothly undid the ties on the front of her dress, and then scooped his hand beneath the material. She flattened her palms against the cool rock as sensations rolled through her.
Though tempted to give in and close her eyes, she kept them locked with his.
Because if she was not mistaken...he was daring her to.
Yet as he pebbled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger while simultaneously caressing her breast, her head fell back, and her eyes drifted shut. The moment they did, his free hand slipped around the back of her neck, and his lips were on hers.
This was always where she lost herself.
When he kissed her.
Now was no different as he continued to manipulate her breast in unthinkably creative ways as his mouth closed more firmly over hers. As he grew hungry and demanded more.
But he wasn’t alone.
She was demanding more too.
Overly aware of his touch, his very proximity, she moaned, curled her fingers into the fur at his shoulders and pulled him closer. His large body caged her in but at the same time made her feel safe and free...wild.
Their kisses intensified and deepened as he left her breast and cupped the sides of her neck, his fingers caressing and warm. Then one hand traveled until he grabbed her ass and squeezed. She groaned and spread her legs, grinding against him as desperately as he was her.
She should stop.
He should as well.
Yet neither did as their kisses
only grew more passionate and the heat between them blazed. The ache between her thighs had grown painful, and her whispered groans between kisses a desperate plea.
“We shouldnae,” he said softly against her lips somewhere in there, but it got lost in a need that was already way out of control. He pushed her skirts up while she yanked at the strings on his trousers.
“Conall...Laird Hamilton,” she whispered, not sure what to call him, then no longer caring as he hoisted her against the rock, shoved her skirts up the rest of the way, spread her thighs and pressed into her.
She gasped at his girth then flinched as he pressed deeper then downright groaned in pleasure as he kept going. Lindsay held onto the fur at his shoulders for dear life as he thrust deeper and deeper. Little lightning bolts of pleasure began to tingle and spread throughout her body as he moved.
As he filled her.
Their eyes met and held as long as they were able to before desire, and near frenzy took over. They were barely undressed, barely stable on the uneven rock at her back, but it didn’t matter. He kept one strong hand clenched over her ass, rolled his hips and thrust with more vigor than she anticipated.
“Ohhh,” she half moaned, half whispered as he drove into her. His hot, harsh breath was close to her ear, and his warm body created head-spinning friction against hers.
Nothing had ever felt like this.
Nothing made her feel so much.
There was no acting needed. She couldn’t even if she wanted to.
Her hands cramped she gripped his fur so tightly, but she felt nothing beyond the sensual fire blazing between them. The pulse of her heart slamming in her throat. The harsh bursts of his breath as he thrust hard and deep, drilling her against the rock but at the same time pulling her so much closer to him emotionally.
It was impossible to describe.
All it took was him whispering her name on a low, lusty groan to spike an orgasm straight through her entire body. She locked up and belted out a wail before she swore the ground dropped right out from beneath them. Half a heartbeat later, he pressed deep, let out a ragged groan of pleasure and shuddered.
A thousand colors swirled around them, and it became impossible to breathe.
She felt weightless.
All she could do was feel, connect, be a part of the experience. It was far beyond anything she had ever felt. Beyond anything she had even pretended to feel. For all her long hours training to become an actress, she never once imagined it feeling like this.
Nothing could compare.
Nothing could touch it.
Her body trembled and shook as her insides quaked. Endless ripples of pleasure fanned through her in steady bursts.
“Who goes there?” came a deep voice, ripping her from her reverie. “What are ye doing to that lass?”
It seemed Conall already knew there was a problem because he had pulled free and lowered her skirts while supporting her, so she didn’t crumple to the ground.
The sound of a blade sliding free from its scabbard echoed through the cave followed by the masculine voice. “Did ye hear me?”
Conall’s eyes met hers, and he shook his head a fraction as he adjusted his pants.
“I guess ye didnae then,” came the same voice seconds before a dagger came around Conall’s neck and he was forced backward away from her.
Eyes wide, her body still quivering and trembling with the aftershocks of what he had made her feel, she tried to adjust herself and figure out what was happening. Only one thing snapped into focus though.
A pair of royal blue eyes she would never forget.
“Are ye well lass? Answer fast, or this man dies,” he growled, his blade already cutting into Conall’s neck as he awaited her response. Though she should have said a great number of things, most of which would preserve Conall’s life, she instead whispered three small words.
“Who are you?”
Though he hesitated a moment as though remiss to share as much, he ended up being far more honest then she anticipated.
“I am the Earl of Carrick.” His blade never budged. “Robert the Bruce.”
That could only mean one thing.
They had traveled through time again.
Chapter Ten
Happrew, Scotland
Near Peebles on the Scottish Border
February 1304
CONALL HAD SPENT HIS entire life deeply revering and respecting Robert the Bruce only to find himself instantly disliked by the man. While he should have been solely focused on that fact, all he could do was stare at Lindsay.
All he could think about was how it had felt to be with her moments ago.
More than that, how much he wanted to be with her again.
While some might say it was part of her enchantment, he knew better. Whatever that had been, whatever they just shared, went far beyond mere enchantment. Far beyond what he needed in his life right now. It was terrifying, dangerous, and perfect. Everything that could break his heart all over again but a thousand times worse.
Yet he wanted more.
Right here, right now, despite the blade to his neck and the famous king at his back, he wanted to have that kind of passion again. To let himself go and bury himself in her tight heat. To not care. That’s when it occurred to him how erratic and undisciplined his thinking was.
Worse than that, what he had just let happen between him and Lindsay.
“He didn’t hurt me,” Lindsay said, her voice a weak, hoarse squeak before she cleared her throat and shook her head. “Laird Hamilton is innocent.” Her eyes stayed with the Bruce’s. “I swear it.”
Robert’s blade only dug deeper as he contemplated.
If Conall wanted to, he could have already taken down Robert, but he thought too highly of him. At least so long as he didn’t swipe the blade he supposed.
“Are you serious?” Lindsay said, speaking telepathically without realizing it as her eyes flickered between Conall and Robert. “You would let him kill you here and now for something you didn’t do because you think so highly of him?”
The feel of her in his mind nearly had his cock at attention once again.
Rather than respond to her, telepathically or otherwise, he murmured, “My name is Conall Hamilton, son of Darach Hamilton, grandson to Grant Hamilton. I come on behalf of Adlin MacLomain to aid ye in yer upcoming battle. My blade is yers, Earl.”
Though he felt Robert’s hesitation, the Bruce didn’t budge until he had further confirmation from Lindsay. “So he wasnae raping ye, lass, or hurting ye in any way?”
“No.” She shook her head. “He was just trying to steal a kiss is all.”
A kiss, was it? But he appreciated her vagueness.
“Was he then?” Robert murmured before he, at last, pulled the blade away but kept a wary eye on Conall. Though several inches shorter, he was a formidable man with enough weapons to have easily taken down the average man.
“Ye claim to know some verra important men.” Robert’s eyes narrowed on Conall. “And by all accounts, ye do bear a striking resemblance to the Grant I once knew. More so, Darach.” He shook his head. “Though ‘twas a long time ago, indeed, that I saw either of them.”
“Aye.” Conall kept a close eye on Lindsay though he spoke to the Bruce. “So ye havenae come across any of them yet? I am the first to arrive?”
“Aye,” came another voice before William appeared, grinning at Conall and Lindsay. “’Tis good to see ye both again! It has been a bloody long time.” He looked from one to the other. “And still kissing I see?”
Conall and Lindsay glanced at one another before they greeted William. It was odd having seen Wallace hours ago though he had no memory of it. How could he? The battle they had just fought together would not happen for another six months or so.
“’Tis clear ye know these two, Wallace,” Robert said, sheathing his blade as his attention returned to Lindsay. Though some might question that kissing comment, it was clear the Bruce was very confident and already ena
mored with her. Blatant admiration lit his eyes as he held out the crook of his elbow. “Come, lass, let us all go talk where ‘tis warmer, aye?”
“Why thank you,” she said softly, back to the lass he knew all too well as she smiled warmly at Robert and took his arm. “My name is Lindsay by the way.”
What had he expected of her anyway? That she would say no and run into Conall’s arms because they had just been together? Because as much as he had thoroughly enjoyed it and wanted more, it should never have happened.
They should not happen.
So he did his best to swallow his jealousy as he joined Wallace and they followed.
William, of course, was curious how everyone had fared since the Battle of Stirling Bridge. It was a bloody odd conversation, but Conall navigated it to the best of his ability, careful not to mention the Skirmish at Earnside.
Skirmish, his arse. That was a full out battle.
“Well, ‘tis good to know ye will all be amongst us again.” William’s eyes narrowed on Robert’s back. “We only just reconnected a few days ago, and ‘tis clear he’s as proud to be him as he ever was. Though ‘twas welcoming to see he wasnae as determined to capture me as I figured he would be.”
Robert the Bruce would not become king for two more years and certainly not beloved by the Scots. No, he had a ways to go before that happened. In fact... “Is the Bruce not here with the Sassenach to capture ye and Sir Simon Fraser?” A man he knew had once fought alongside Andrew Moray but now fought with Wallace. “Did the Bruce not arrive with a chevauchée of Sassenach knights led by Sir John Segrave?”
He could barely utter Segrave’s name, knowing full well his ultimate role in William’s fate. His part in Wallace’s execution.
“Aye,” William said gravely. “But what they dinnae know is that they’ve a traitor in their midst.”
“That traitor being the Bruce. Fighting for Longshanks whilst helping the Scots. Or at least helping ye,” Conall murmured. “So where are we heading now? How is he here and not with the Sassenach?”
The MacLomain Series: A New Beginning Boxed Set (Books 1-4) Page 40
