Samantha Holt (Highland Fae Chronicles)

by To Dream of a Highlander

  The sensation sparked a frenzy in them, one that would only be quenched by lovemaking. Finn moved his hands to her hair, across her breasts and under her rear, moulding her to him as he stared down at her. Never had a moment been more intimate. But he couldn’t take the time to treasure it. His need for this magical woman was too great. He kissed her mouth, neck, collarbone and she wriggled against him, spreading her lips over whatever flesh she could find. Her soft lips dancing across his skin increased the throb in his body and before realising what he’d done, he found her hips again and he joined them in one short, sharp thrust.

  She cried out, and he froze.

  “Damnation.”

  He tried to pull away but she held him there. By God, why couldn’t he have been more careful? He’d just taken her innocence like some barbarian. Somehow he remained still, his arms trembling as he held himself above her. The tight heat forced sweat to prick on his forehead. She gazed boldly up at him, as if absorbing the new sensation. The tiniest movement of her hips and her body relaxing had him making a sound in the back of his throat and he lowered himself, weight held one arm, his other hand stroking her hair.

  They kissed unsteadily, picking up speed until they ravaged each other’s mouths. Finn knew Katelyn was passionate, but her reaction staggered him. He’d wager no man realised such an astounding woman lay behind her fragile, beautiful features. Mayhap he was the only man to unlock this side of her.

  Finn moved erratically, with little finesse, but it seemed he could do no wrong. Her body fluttered in response. The primal rhythm overtook him, only her scent and her hot staggered breaths registered. The taste and feel of her filled his senses. Scalding gratification began to burn through his body so he slid a hand between them and rotated a finger against her folds. Her mouth slipped from his and her body tensed.

  “Oh, Finn,” she cried. “Sweet Mary….”

  He saw it unfold. Through the fog of his own pleasure he didn’t see it as clearly as he’d have liked but he still observed the widening of her eyes when she peaked, body shaking and bucking. Finn tucked her head into the crook of his neck, still relentlessly driving into her. She would never forget this—never forget him.

  This was it for him, he realised, as the sensations boiled inside him. While the lovemaking was unlike anything he’d ever felt, it was the feeling in his chest, his feelings for this woman that made it so much more.

  She continued to buck into his lunges, in spite of her exhausted state, and he helped her, using her body to bring himself to the edge and over. He spilled inside her, the fiercest release of his life.

  “Finn,” she breathed in his ear, the sound wrapping around his heart.

  He sagged against her, despair replacing satisfaction. What had he done?

  Chapter Eight

  Catriona winced and tried to rub her face. It itched. But her arms were trapped. Trapped.

  Her chest compressed and she twisted frantically. A male grumble pulled her out of her panic and she froze.

  Finn.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again, forcing away the sleep in her eyes. The light of dawn streamed in through the gaps in the wood and the open front of the stables. Straw prickled her skin. One strong arm and leg enveloped her, pinned her down. Her robe tangled around Finn’s legs, the green silk somehow looking impeccable against his sun kissed skin. Catriona put a hand to his shoulder and relished his warm, taut skin. Scars marred his back, some barely visible and others streaking across his perfect skin like lightning bolts—proof of his bold nature. Odd how he cared so little for his own welfare. She traced the line of muscle in his arm, marvelling at how he’d withheld that strength with her. There were moments when he’d been rough, but she trusted him to know what she needed.

  Considering her body, she conceded she was paying the price now. She winced as she shifted her legs. Losing her maidenhood was never going to be pleasant, but she’d hadn’t expected such an experience. Or had she? Why else would she have given herself to him? Finn had been so considerate, in spite of his—their—desperate need for one another. Her heart dropped. How she longed to find out more. Any other lover would never match up to Finn.

  She laughed at herself. As if she could ever have another lover after this. When her father came for her, she anticipated hiding away. Without Finn, who knew how her fears might manifest themselves? It was unlikely any other man would be as understanding of her nightmares.

  Scuffing footsteps outside sent her heart rebounding against her ribs.

  “Finn!” She shook his arm.

  He grumbled again, lifted his head and gave her a sleepy smile that melted her insides. His hair fell across his face, mussed and scattered with straw. He eyed her from under his brow, lines creasing it as he took in her naked state. His smile tilted.

  “Finn, ‘tis dawn.”

  He blinked, glanced around and scrabbled to standing. “Damnation.”

  Together they hunted down their clothes and dressed. He helped her shrug into her robe as she battled with the pin for his plaid.

  “I dinnae know how I’m going to explain this.” She motioned up and down her.

  He peered around the doorway. “Fear not. The sun is only just up. Most of the household is still abed.”

  “We should not have taken such a risk. What if Gillean sees me?”

  His jaw clenched, his eyes hardened. “Aye, of course. Gillean. Ye wouldnae want yer future husband to know of yer nocturnal activities.”

  Pain stabbed her heart and she pressed her lips together. Brushing the straw from her robe and plucking some out of her hair, she gathered her breath. Why did he have to make it sound so sordid? Had he not wanted her just as badly? She hadn’t intended for Finn to make love to her but she had been so consumed by him, she had to see him. And, as usual, once in his presence all sense deserted her.

  But it had taken two. And now he behaved as if she’d instigated it all. Talking about her as if she was some kind of… “Dinnae speak as if I am a whore,” she said quietly.

  “This was a mistake,” he bit out.

  The agony in her chest expanded and made her limbs shake. She ran her fingers through her hair and lifted her chin. “That much I know. But I didnae expect ye to talk so to me.”

  He paused, skimmed his gaze over her and shook his head. Clearly he regretted getting close to her. Did he feel he’d betrayed the memory of his wife? Was it something else? Mayhap he had only wanted a quick tumble and feared she’d fallen for him. Well, she would have to set him straight. She’d known all along their attraction was doomed.

  “Help me to my chambers unseen and we shall speak no more of this. Ye can forget it ever happened.”

  A muscle twitched in his jaw and he jerked slightly, as if she’d struck out at him. Finally, he nodded. “Aye, ‘twould be best. Soon ye shall be married.”

  Why did he repeat that all the time? It was not as if she did not know. She only hoped it would not come to pass. It had been a foolish move, making love to Finn. Gillean would question why she was no longer a maiden if it ever came to that. Her stomach churned and she cast her gaze up, praying that did not lie in her future.

  “Just return me to the keep,” she whispered, coming to his side as he put his head around the doorway. For once, she needed the refuge of her chambers. She needed to wash away his scent, his touch, and straighten her confused thoughts.

  And she must come up with a way to deal with Gillean. Finn had proved such a distraction she kept forgetting what was at stake. The safety of Bute. Gillean had to be appeased if her father still did not have the king’s support. Until she knew otherwise, she had to continue her ruse.

  Fingers pressed to her lips, she shook her head. What had she been thinking? She’d given herself to a man who didn’t even know who she was.

  “Come then.” Finn did not wait for a response. He snatched her hand and led her across the bailey.

  She scanned the empty courtyard with a sigh of relief. A few men were high
up on the walls but their backs were to them as they surveyed the land for danger. They hurried across the dry mud, hand in hand. If only his touch did not make her feel so safe. Indeed, Finn had to be the most dangerous man of all. If he had not already broken her heart, leaving him would surely finish the job.

  He led her up the few stone steps to the hall door and pushed it open slightly. Finn put his face to the gap and Catriona peered around wildly, her heart thudding. Anyone could come along and discover them. What would they think if they saw her in her chemise, hand in hand with Finn? They would think they had taken a tumble.

  She almost laughed. They’d be right about that. For Finn, it had certainly been a mere tumble. And for her? It was lovemaking. Without a doubt.

  The door squeaked when Finn pushed it further open. Catriona grimaced, ready for someone to pounce on them and demand to know what they had done, but no one came. A servant scurried about at the end of the hall, laying the top table, but he paid them no heed. Mayhap he would gossip about them later but as long as Gillean or Lorna did not see them, servant’s talk meant little.

  Finn urged her across the hall and up the stairs to the gallery. Still clasping her hand, he led her to her chamber. Just as he put a hand to the door handle, footsteps made her lift her head. Finn dropped her hand and took a step back as Gillean strode along the balcony from his chambers.

  “Lady Katelyn,” he greeted, fastening his hands behind and studying her. “What are ye doing out of yer chambers dressed in so little?”

  Gillean’s eyes narrowed and he licked his lips. He dropped his gaze to her breasts and she clamped her robe around her, sure he had seen her nipples dark against the linen. The thought twisted her stomach.

  “I-I...”

  “Lady Katelyn thought she heard a noise and was looking for aid. I happened to already be awake,” Finn interjected smoothly.

  “Really?” Gillean mused and brought a hand up to stroke his beard. “How fortunate for ye, my lady, that Finn should be awake at this early hour.”

  She smiled tightly. “Indeed. But it seems I was mistaken. All is well.”

  “That is good news indeed.” Gillean’s expression lightened and he smiled. “I hope ye are well rested. We have the wedding plans to finalise this day.”

  “Aye, my laird. I hope we shall have word from my father soon, so that he may join us.”

  “We can but hope, but I must return to my lands soon,” he warned before sending an indulgent smile to Finn. “These women are sentimental creatures. Ye have done well not to have married again.”

  Finn nodded, his expression tight. Katelyn noticed he had curled both fists at his side.

  “Of course, they forget that marriage is a business transaction for men,” Gillean continued. “But I have done well to secure such a prize, do ye no’ think Finn?”

  Surely he saw Finn’s tense stance? Did Gillean intend to rile him? What did he want? Mayhap he suspected there was more to their presence on the gallery than they’d said. The laird was certainly a shrewd man. But if he anticipated sparking a reaction from Finn, he’d have little chance. Even her making love to him had not breached his barriers.

  Catriona fought the temptation to protest such a description but the fight had left her, sapped by Finn’s dismissal.

  Finn squared his shoulders. “I would know naught of prizes, Gillean, but ye have yerself a fine woman. Now, if ye’ll excuse me, I have much to see to.” He bowed to Katelyn. “Good day, my lady.”

  She did not respond—did not trust herself to. He stormed down the stairs, running a hand through his dishevelled hair as he went. The memory of how his fair hair had felt under her fingers made them tingle. The desire to curl up and shut away the world grew stronger but she kept her spine straight and met Gillean’s perceptive gaze.

  “I should dress.”

  “Ye should, my lady. Ye shouldnae be out of yer chambers dressed so.” She caught the reprimand in his tone. “No matter how enticing ye might look.”

  Catriona gripped her silk robe until her fingers grew tingly.

  “I have high hopes the priest shall arrive this day,” he informed her.

  “That… that is good news.”

  “It is.” His voice dropped. “Then I shall be able to enjoy such a sight every morn.”

  Eyes wide, Catriona fell against her door. The lascivious shade to his expression made his already cold eyes, darker, more dangerous. She gulped and fumbled for the door handle.

  “I… I… good day, my laird.” She twisted the handle and slipped into her chamber, slamming the door shut and leaning against it. A chuckle resonated through the wood. She cringed.

  Did he know? Lord, what had she done? It would be well enough if it was only her future on the line but she held the fate of her friends and father in her hands. Appeasing Laird Gillean and finding a way to delay the wedding until the messenger reached Bute had to be her priority—not Finn. She slapped her hands to her hot cheeks. What had she done?

  ***

  He danced back away from the blade as it swept close to his neck. Too close. Logan was a strong fighter but Finn was off his game. His body ached from sleeping in the straw and images of Katelyn played through his mind.

  He’d behaved a fool.

  Finn swung in retaliation and their blades crashed together sending shudders up his arm. Dust from the mud of the bailey kicked up around them. When he might have been able to take a second slice at Logan, he missed his chance by being too slow and Logan came at him again, pushing his blade to the ground.

  No other man practiced, only them. Boots scraping the dirt and his pounding heart throbbed in his ears. Jumping back, Finn lunged once more only for Logan to sidestep him, grab his pommel and draw him close enough to nearly run him through. The two men faced one another, heavy breaths blowing between them.

  “Something is amiss, Finn,” Logan declared as he released Finn’s sword and pushed him back lightly.

  Finn swiped the arm of his shirt across his damp brow. “Naught is amiss.”

  Logan shook his head and slipped his sword into his belt. “Finn, ye are one of the finest swordsmen I know. For yer years of training I cannae compete, yet I beat ye easily this day.”

  “Yer a fine swordsman.”

  “I learned swordsmanship the hard way, as ye well know. I have none of yer finer skills.” Logan slapped a hand to Finn’s arm. “Anyhow, dinnae change the subject. What plagues ye?”

  A smile teased Finn’s lips, begged to be released, but instead he sighed. How was it Katelyn forced all his defences down?

  “Is it Katelyn?”

  “’Tis naught, Logan.”

  “Naught doesnae throw ye off yer game like that. In all the years we’ve know each other, I’ve never seen ye this consumed by a lass.”

  “Consumed?” Finn’s brows darted up. Logan had already inferred he recognised Finn’s need for Katelyn but he thought he’d thrown him off the scent with his flippant remarks.

  “Aye, consumed. ‘Tis hard to miss the way ye watch her, Finn. And the way she looks at ye.”

  Finn kicked a stone and strolled away to settle on the wall. If Logan saw it, did Gillean? And the way Katelyn looked at him? Earlier, all he’d seen was hurt and disgust. He’d practically called her a whore. Shame heated his face. He’d taken something precious and thrown it away. What had happened between them had been more than a mere tumble.

  “It doesnae matter,” Finn grumbled. “She shall be married soon enough.”

  “There is always a way, old friend. Ye would do well to take a chance.”

  Finn let slip a depreciative laugh as Logan rested next to him. “A chance on what? I took chances once before and I lost everything, Logan. I’ll no’ do that again. She will marry Gillean and I shall return home and there ends our story. Anyway, what of ye? I dinnae see ye married to my sister.”

  Logan bristled. “Yer sister willnae have me. Alas I am still a mere peasant boy in her eyes and I fear I always will be.”


  “But…” Finn fought down the brotherly protectiveness, recalling Logan’s words of love, “she let ye into her bed, did she not?”

  “Aye, and declared it a mistake.”

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, Finn nodded. Hadn’t he done the same to Katelyn? And while she reacted with cold dignity, he’d been aware it was his angry reaction that prompted such behaviour. But the mere mention of Gillean and her marriage sent a surge of jealousy rolling through him that clouded any judgement.

  “My sister cares for ye and I doubt she thinks ye as a peasant boy,” he finally declared. “She is always quick to come to yer defence.”

  “Well, I shallnae give up and I dinnae think ye should, Finn. Ye must surely know the lass is worth the heartache.” He came to his feet and patted him on the shoulder. “I have duties to see to. I’ll bid ye good day.”

  “Aye, and to ye, Logan.” Finn dropped his head and considered Logan’s words as the man strolled off.

  Worth the heartache? Mayhap. But it was not his decision. Katelyn was contracted to marry Gillean. What else could he do? He’d ruined her with his selfishness. It mattered little how she felt about him. He lifted his head. However, his words to her earlier still vexed him. He would have to apologise for them. How could he let her believe he thought her a whore?

  Unfortunately there was little he could do to make up for his taking her innocence. Not even the most heartfelt apology would repair that damage. Damnation. His gut clenched as if he’d been punched. He had even spilled inside her. He dropped his face into his hands. What if he’d not only taken her maidenhood but planted his child inside her?

  ***

  Catriona wouldn’t have heard the soft tap at her door had she been asleep but in spite of being tired, sleep refused to come. Her mind was a whirl of panic and plans. The priest looked to be arriving on the morrow according to the missive they’d received that day. Throwing back the covers, she padded over to the door and drew it open. Would it be Gillean? He’d been so bold with his attentions, she wouldn’t have been surprised.