The Ravenscraig Legacy Collection: A World of Magical Highland Romance

by Allie Mackay

  “Dear heavens…” Mindy knew her eyes were saucer-wide.

  Bran flashed a look at her. “Much finer than the cold lights of your day, eh?”

  “Oh, my, yes.” She meant it.

  There was a huge difference. And it was to the disadvantage of her time.

  But she didn’t have long to admire the bailey’s medieval ambiance. Bran was leading her to his hall where – her heart stalled, then galloped madly – she could hear loud pipe and fiddle music, raucous laughter and song. The sounds of many men enjoying themselves and, she thought, a few snatches of female laughter as well.

  They were nearing the hall now and she glanced at him, suddenly unsure.

  Here – in his world, only steps away from the entrance to his keep – he looked even larger, more irresistibly rugged and proud, than she’d ever seen him.

  Yet she…

  You, Menlove, are a disaster.

  She glanced down at her black pants and waxed jacket, her clunky hill-walking boots.

  “Wait!” She dug in her heels, glancing round. Glad that they hadn’t yet encountered anyone else.

  A medieval.

  Oh, man! She ran a hand over her hair, tugged at her jacket. “Bran- wait!”

  He was already reaching for the door latch. “Aye?”

  She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “What if someone sees us? Sees me?”

  “The whole of my hall shall see you, Mindy-lass.” He flashed that wicked smile. “I shall be damned proud when they do!”

  “But my clothes-”

  “Think you any friends of mine willnae ken you’re a modern?” He spoke as if that settled everything.

  He reached for the door, but it swung wide before he could close his fingers on the huge, black-iron handle.

  “So you’re returned, at last!” An incredibly handsome man, with dark hair and laughing eyes, swept out an arm, welcoming them inside.

  “Saor MacSwain, my lady.” He bent a gallant knee, his charm almost physical. “‘Tis long that we have waited for you!”

  “Mindy Menlove.” Mindy felt like she’d stepped onto the stage of a costumed opera.

  But the man’s flashing-eyed smile put her at ease. As did the firm grip of Bran’s hand at her elbow.

  “MacSwain, I ken you’re eager! But you’ll have to wait longer still to properly meet my lady.” Bran started forward, pulling her with him across the crowded hall. “We’ve personal business to attend first.”

  He tossed the words over his shoulder, looking straight ahead as he escorted her to a shadowy archway that, she saw at once, could only be the entrance to a torch-lit stair tower.

  She recognized it, too.

  Though leading to the castle’s oldest tower, the archway been walled up at the Folly. Here, it was opened and serviceable, looking in excellent repair.

  Before she could digest that, Bran stopped. He flicked his wrist, producing a large beef rib, which he tossed to Gibbie. The dog had been trotting beside them. Now he leaped to catch the bone in midair, before loping off with the treat clamped in his jaw.

  Bran turned back to Mindy. “I dinnae want poor Gibbie blushing once I have you to myself.” He leaned down to kiss her quickly and – she gasped – swept a hand down her hip to squeeze her buttocks.

  “Come, now.” He grabbed her hand again, tugging her along even faster than before. “I cannae wait much longer-”

  “Ho, Bran!” Saor MacSwain rushed up to them just as they reached the stair’s entrance.

  This time a woman hovered at his side. Her stare gave Mindy frostbite. Worse, she was the most beautiful female Mindy had ever seen. She had shining masses of sleek, raven-black hair that tumbled to her hips, creamy golden skin, and incredible cleavage.

  Mindy felt herself blanch.

  The woman smiled, cattily.

  She was clearly some kind of exotic courtesan, judging from her near-transparent clothes and the nearly overpowering musk perfume swirling around her like a cloud. She also had unnaturally red lips and heavily kohled eyes.

  They were eyes that glared daggers at Mindy.

  And she saw now that she’d erred. Saor hadn’t chased them across the hall. The woman had. Bran’s friend had clearly hastened after her, a fact displayed by the way he held the woman’s arm in a fierce grip.

  “Serafina prepared your chamber as you requested.” Saor spoke to Bran.

  Serafina kept her feline gaze on Mindy. “I’ve readied everything,” she purred, her voice just as smoky and seductive as Mindy knew it would be. “Though” – she narrowed her dark eyes, taking in Mindy’s clothes – “I am sure you will not be in need of such accoutrements for long. Indeed, I wonder why you even wished me to take such trouble?”

  Bran stepped between her and Mindy. His voice hardened. “If you dinnae treat my lady with respect, you will regret the next task I put before you.” He slid a meaningful glance across the hall. “It would involve walking through yon door and never again-”

  “I am sorry.” The woman simpered. She leaned into Saor, linking an arm through his and pressing her breasts into his side. She glanced at Mindy. “Lady, I wish you well here.”

  Mindy nodded, not believing a word.

  She also felt unbearably hot, and not in a good way.

  Nor did it have anything to do with the general heat of the hall. The massive fireplace piled with logs that burned with a crackling roar.

  She was flushing because Serafina made her feel like a great, galumping amazon. Gads, even the she-wolf’s shoes looked like wisps of spun silk. The slippers were beaded. With jewels! Mindy thought of her own sturdy, thick-soled boots again and wanted to die.

  Her heavy woolen socks didn’t bear consideration.

  She’d been caught out at her modern day worst.

  That was why the tops of her ears burned like flame. And why, she was sure, she’d run tomato red.

  But before she could catch her breath and count to ten, Bran gathered her into his arms again and was carrying her up the winding tower stairs.

  When he paused on the second landing and looked down at her, treating her to the full force of his most devastating smile, she forgot all about Serafina-the-Seductress.

  “Ignore her,” Bran said, as if he’d read her mind. “She is here for the entertainment of my friends. They are good men who, in life, weren’t always treated kindly and now deserve a spot of pleasure and fun.

  “She means nothing to me.” As if to prove it, he lowered his head and kissed her, his tongue once again sweeping deep into her mouth, its mastery making her forget everything except that they were here, together.

  That they’d soon be naked on his bed…

  It was going to happen fast, she knew, because they’d reached the top of the stairs and he was practically sprinting with her down a short corridor. He stopped before a door, shouldering it open. He set her down and stepped back, letting her take in the room’s astounding opulence.

  “Wow.” Mindy’s jaw slipped.

  Bran nodded, pleased.

  No Hollywood films or even highly respected research books on the medieval period and its castles could match the glory of his bedchamber.

  The furnishings of the Folly were nothing comparable.

  Richly embroidered tapestries in dazzling colors hung from bright, lime-washed walls, and candles blazed everywhere, surely dozens and dozens of them. The room was a flickering wonderland of golden light.

  A log fire blazed in the hearth. And – she’d never believed this was truly done, but she couldn’t doubt it now – the floor rushes had been strewn with sweet-smelling herbs and rose petals. The result was a sensual feast for the senses.

  A table near one of the tall, arch-topped windows held a different kind of feast. Jewel-rimmed wine and ale cups had been set out next to large ewers, obviously filled with finest libations. A tray of superbly roasted capons, still warm, smelled heavenly. There were also platters of cheese and fresh-baked pasties, and several small dishes of dates and sugared
almonds.

  Nothing looked less than sumptuous.

  There were even water-filled finger bowls and carefully folded linen napkins.

  Bran of Barra knew how to live.

  But it was the bed that really took Mindy’s breath.

  It was huge.

  And so high there were steps to climb into it. Four-postered and with its dark-gleaming wood intricately carved, the bed boasted thick, heavily embroidered curtaining and covers. A welter of equally fine bolsters and pillows rounded up the bed’s glory, while neatly folded furred bed rugs at the foot waited to spend extra warmth if desired.

  It was a bed of dreams, straight out of a fairytale.

  Mindy’s heart thumped, awe sweeping her.

  “Did you know there was a time of greatness here, at your Barra?” The splendor made her sharply aware of the ordinariness of her twenty-first century. “It was later than your day. I don’t recall the century, but the MacNeil chief of the era would order his trumpeters to stand on the battlements at night and blast a fanfare. Their duty was to announce that now that he had dined, the rest of the world could eat their own supper?

  Bran’s eyes rounded, then he grinned. “Come, sweet-”

  “It’s true!” Mindy waved a hand. “You can read about it in any history book.

  “I believe the words were, ‘Hear, O ye people, and listen, O ye nations. The great MacNeil of Barra having finished his meal, the princes of the earth may dine!’

  “Now” – she looked about the lavish bedchamber – “I understand why they were so proud. Now-”

  “Mindy-lass!” Bran put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her very intently. “I am torn between throwing back my head and laughing and turning you over my knee. To be sure, we are a proud race and I’ll no’ deny any such boast.

  “Like as no’” – his lips twitched – “such a fanfare was started by your own Silvanus and his friends. But I promise you, the greatest magnificence I see in this room is you.”

  He slid his hands down her sides, locking his arms around her hips. “Nor did I bring you here to be taught a history lesson. You forget – I am history!”

  “That’s not why I told you.” Mindy glanced aside. “It’s just that-”

  “It’s about us, sweetness. This.” His gaze not leaving her, he ripped away the large Celtic brooch at his shoulder, then threw off his plaid. “Nothing else matters. This night, we make our own history.”

  Mindy stared at him, her heart pounding.

  He grinned and pulled his shirt over his head. Then he tugged off his shoes.

  He was wearing nothing else.

  His naked skin gleamed in the candle glow, the dusting of cinnamon-colored hair covering his broad, powerfully muscled chest glistening like gold. He stood proud, totally at ease, when her gaze dipped low, seeing at once how much he wanted her.

  Mindy gasped and bit her lip. She should’ve been prepared, but she wasn’t. She swallowed, her entire body flushing. “Oh, my gosh, you’re so-”

  “So I am.” He grinned. “It’s the fine, brisk air of Barra, what does it!”

  Raising his arms above his head, he cracked his knuckles, clearly enjoying her perusal. And there was a great deal of him to see. A beautiful display of pure and hot Highland manhood that made her legs feel weak and sent shivers of sensation spilling the entire length of her body.

  “Oh, my.” Mindy tore her gaze away, sure she’d catch fire if she kept looking.

  “Now you.” He reached for her jacket, whipping it off her with incredible speed. He plucked at her shirt’s buttons and her pants’ zipper, then dropped to his knees and used his teeth as well, tearing her clothes away, bit by bit, until she stood before him, equally naked.

  “Sweet mother of ancients, you’re lovely.” His gaze raked her, making her tingle everywhere. He ran his hands up and down the backs of her legs, holding her before him as he rubbed his face against her thighs, the soft place between them.

  She held on to his shoulders, breathless as he kissed his way across her stomach. But then he looked up at her, holding her gaze as he slowly licked his way lower and lower until, flashing a wicked grin, he eased her legs apart and swept his tongue along the wet, heated length of her.

  “Och, lass.” He breathed the words against her skin in a husky whisper. “I could taste you forever.”

  “Ahhhh…” Mindy dug her fingers into his shoulders when he licked her again. White-hot bolts of pleasure shot through her.

  She swayed against him, every inch of her catching flame as she opened her legs wider to give him better access. She didn’t want him to stop. His mouth on her so intimately, his gaze holding hers as he licked and devoured her, was a wild, wicked, and maddeningly delicious treat that was surely addictive.

  She didn’t care.

  She only wanted more.

  “You’re so sweet, Mindy-lass.” He turned his head, gently nipping the inside of her thigh before once again letting his tongue probe and swirl, exploring and tasting, each curling sweep flooding her with decadent sensation.

  No man had ever done this to her.

  And when his gaze darkened, the tip of his tongue poised to flick across her most sensitive spot, she thrust her fingers into his hair, holding fast.

  She was about to shatter.

  “No-o-o,” she cried when his tongue touched her there, circling lightly. “It’s not fair to you. I want-”

  “And I want to pleasure you.” His gaze turned wicked and he suckled that spot. “This way and all ways, sweetness. I’ve burned to taste you and-”

  “But I’m going to-” She couldn’t finish, only gasped and arched against him, trembling, trying so hard not to give in to the ecstasy about to sweep her.

  “Please, Bran, wait…”

  “Ach, as you wish…” He lifted his head, turning his attention to her breasts. He spread his hands over their swells, squeezing and plumping, circling her nipples with his thumbs, before leaning close to lick and suckle, each swirl of his tongue, making her ache for more.

  The climax she’d just managed to stave off threatened to break again as waves of electrifying sensation rolled through her, making her female places clench with hot, tingly need.

  “Bran…” She was trembling. “Please…”

  He stood and plunged his hands into her hair, holding her fast, as he kissed her roughly, plundering her mouth. Then – still kissing her - he scooped her up into his arms and carried her across the room, lowering her to the bed.

  Stretching out beside her, he pulled her close so that they were flush against each other, skin to naked skin. She loved the feel of his hard, warm, length beside her as he stroked and caressed her everywhere. His touch turned her to flame and made her quiver with longing such as she’d never known. She started rocking her hips against him, this time wanting more than a thigh-climax.

  As if he knew, he pushed up on his elbows to look down at her. His eyes were even darker now, and smoldering with heat. “The whole of me this time, Mindy-love.

  “Soon, I promise. But first…” Not taking his gaze from her, he reached between them, sliding his hand between her legs to stroke and caress her. His fingers worked magic, almost as if their tips were charged with electricity. Then he splayed his whole hand over her, cupping her firmly.

  “Ohhh…” Mindy almost shattered.

  “That’s my lass.” Bran nodded once, knowingly. He nudged her thighs apart, tracing the hot, slick center of her, circling his thumb across her most sensitive place. He teased and plied her with his fingers, his mastery making her melt and burn.

  When she jerked and cried out, lifting her hips off the bed, pushing against his hand, he slid over her. He kissed her deeply as he plunged inside her, making her his at last.

  He began moving, heated tingles sweeping her as he kissed her again and again, using his tongue to match the rhythm of his hips. He kept one hand between them, his questing fingers teasing and stroking, urging her closer and closer to a glittery, mind
-blowing climax.

  As it broke, her body tightened and she cried out. Hot, shimmering waves of sensation crashed over her, carrying her into an exquisite whirl of spinning, endless pleasure.

  It seemed to go on and on and she clung to him, almost dizzy, near blinded by the glory of it.

  How good it felt to have him inside her.

  Then, even through the languorous haze, she could tell that he’d withdrawn. He wasn’t kissing her anymore either, but he was lying hot and heavy on top of her. His wonderful beard tickled her chin, and his weight was starting to bear down on her, almost crushing her.

  Bran of Barra was a big man.

  Mindy let her arms slide away from his back, but he didn’t roll off of her. She tried to ease out from under him without disturbing him – she could tell he’d fallen asleep – but it was making her so hot to lie beneath him.

  She twisted her head to the side, just to catch her breath. But when she opened her eyes, she screamed. The richly embroidered bedcovering of Bran’s tower chamber was gone. She was eyeball-to-weave with the tangled mess of her overly thick red-tartaned duvet at the Anchor.

  It was the heavy duvet piled on top of her that was taking her breath and making her sweat.

  Shoving it aside, she leapt off the bed.

  Horror sluiced her.

  She wasn’t in Bran’s splendiferous bedchamber out on the islet, having just been ravished and made love to by the man she knew she couldn’t live without.

  She was in the tiny bedroom at the Anchor.

  It couldn’t be, but it was.

  Yet, she was sure she’d been with Bran. She could smell the musk of sex in the air and – she had to do it – when she slipped a finger between her legs to check, it came back wet and glistening with evidence they had been together.

  She was also naked, her breasts still flushed with excitement and – this really ripped her – she could see the red imprints of large hands on her hips, just where Bran had gripped her.

  “Oh, no!” She sank to her knees, pressed her forehead against the edge of the bed, and cried.

  She had been with Bran.

  And she’d been there with him in his time and it’d all been so real. She remembered her terror at crossing the bay in the teensy medieval coracle. The horrid creature called Serafina and Bran’s friend, the dark-haired, laughing-eyed man, Saor MacSwain.