by Vines, Jolie
The second woman produced a bottle of paracetamol syrup, and handed it to her. I thanked her again, then clutched my lass in my arms and strode downstairs.
The family and my crew members expressed surprise that we had to go, and Cameron frowned, his gaze locking on to the site of my earlier injury.
Caitriona rushed out an explanation, but I was already out of the door, frustrated at myself.
Isla was my one concern. My everything. In my arms, she now dozed, but her breathing was too fast, and with every inhale, my fear increased.
She could catch a fever. Or pneumonia. The castle wasn’t the warmest place. All those hours, she’d been in clammy clothes.
Caitriona chased me to my car. “Here’s the medicine. Should I come with you? Can I help? I feel so bad.”
“Don’t,” I half-snapped then forced myself to swallow my fear. “We’ll be fine. I’ll see ye tomorrow.”
I peeled out of the car park, focused only on my daughter.
* * *
Isla slept, but I couldn’t. I sat on the floor by her bed, elbows on my knees, taking her temperature with the back of my hand every now and again.
Dwelling on the past, present, and future with increasing apprehension.
Tonight, though the rescue had been a success, I’d taken a fall. Nothing severe, but I’d slipped on rocks and landed hard, bruising my side.
An unluckier version of that fall could have knocked me out. A worse accident could leave Isla an orphan. It happened to rescuers. Rarely, but this risk was there. I’d heard nothing from my sister, so who would care for my daughter if I couldn’t?
Caitriona would, I knew that. At least for a while. But she didn’t have the full story on who we were and why we were effectively in hiding.
Plus I’d been rude to her, and it fucking bothered me that she might be worried about us.
On the bed, Isla flung out an arm and twisted over. I’d saved the medicine in case she became feverish, but a quick check confirmed no temperature spike. Nor had she been sick again. This time, it appeared she’d gotten off lightly.
I sighed over my sleeping lass. If Isla became ill, had a medical emergency, my deepest-held secrets would be out. It wouldn’t be by choice, and I couldn’t handle that loss of control.
The two strengthening arguments added to my resolve.
I couldn’t be an island with her. Or for myself. It was driving me insane.
I eased up and quietly left the room.
At three in the morning, I found myself outside Caitriona’s door.
I’d barely tapped when it flew open. Dressed in leggings and a long t-shirt, Caitriona shot her gaze to mine.
“Is she okay?”
“Aye. Dinna fret.”
She paused then dipped her head, some of the worry leaving her expression.
Unhinged, I grabbed her hand and pulled her with me, barely giving her time to close and lock her own door.
Back in my cottage, at Isla’s room, Caitriona swept past me and touched my daughter’s forehead.
Such a simple act, yet it drove nails into my heart.
Her shoulders sank, and she gazed at me, seeking confirmation of her own findings. Aye, Isla was fine.
But I was far from that.
I beckoned her out and into my bedroom, gesturing for her to sit on my bed. Under the lamplight, Caitriona pushed her loose hair behind her ear then perched on her hands, warily watching me.
“I was rude to ye,” I said.
“Ye were. But I understand.”
“I apologise all the same. Isla is my whole world. I made a mistake tonight…”
“In trusting me to care for her?”
“No. That isn’t what I meant.” I wanted to sit next to her and hold her, but I had information to share, and it needed a rational mind. Caitriona scrambled my brain at the best of times. I pressed my shoulders against the wall and summoned my will.
“In my not looking out for her properly. That has been my single most important goal for years.”
As if she could sense the weight of words waiting to be aired, Caitriona let me speak.
“When I first knew of Isla’s existence, it was four weeks before her birth.”
“Ye didn’t know your wife was pregnant?”
“Liv wasn’t my wife then. We married three weeks later, then our bairn came four days on from that.”
“Where is she now? Liv, I mean.”
“Prison.”
I let that settle for a moment, my muscles held tight. Caitriona swallowed but waited for me to continue.
“Liv was my childhood schoolfriend. She grew up in a village near to mine. Poor, like us, but to a far worse family. Her father was a notorious drug dealer and a shite example of a human being. Her older brothers followed in his footsteps. Violence, gang war, ye name it, he brought it to their home. To a lesser extent, Liv did, too. Stealing, getting into trouble. Then she vanished when she was seventeen. She was twenty-one when we met again.”
My heart pounded, and my stomach crushed in a ball. After the next piece of information, I couldn’t go back. Caitriona would know it all.
She lifted her head, confusion in her eyes. “But ye said she was pregnant when ye saw her again.”
“Aye.” I could barely force out the word.
Caitriona froze up. “Oh, Lochie. Fuck. Are ye saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Isla isn’t genetically mine.”
Shock widened her eyes before a fiercer expression took over. “She is yours. In every other way, that bairn is your daughter.”
I loved the vehemence of her tone. It matched the rising wave of emotion in me. “She is. Legally, with my name on her birth certificate. I was the only person her ma trusted to care for her child, my child, as Isla became. Her genetic father was a lowlife, a lad from a rival gang. He turned his back on Liv.”
“That poor woman. Why is she in jail?”
“When she found out she was pregnant, and her boyfriend dropped her, she made the mistake of contacting her family. Her father demanded she return to the fold and raise the bairn as one of them, and she went, but once there, they began using her to make deliveries. Long hours behind the wheel, heading south into big cities. You can guess why.”
“Drug deliveries?”
“Aye. They imported from Europe, docking small boats at remote Highland coastal towns. Then Liv became their mule—a slight, scared woman who no one would suspect. She wasnae innocent, not by a long chalk, but it was something else that made her run from them again. When they found out who’d fathered the bairn, they talked about using that connection. It scared the shite out of Liv to think of her newborn as a pawn between gangs. She was desperate to break the cycle.”
Clamping her hands together, Caitriona just let me talk.
“On her last trip, Liv came to me. She ditched the car with the drugs and fled to the base where I worked, begging for help. At the same time, the police swooped in and raided her family’s property. They arrested her da and brothers and put out a warrant for Liv. She was terrified, and I couldnae refuse her. The only way for me to take full ownership of the bairn was as her husband. She hid out, and we barely got away with the wedding. The birth happened under police custody.”
I’d stored my explanation away carefully, knowing one day I’d need to present it to my daughter.
“Isla is seven in a few days. Why has her mother been in prison so long? She wasn’t the instigator.”
“At that point, I had no clue how deep Liv was in on it. She told me she’d be let go—I think she even assumed it—but it wasnae to be. Liv’s sentence was for eight years. They had evidence of her actions but also her contact with the other gang. They painted her as a go-between and proved the driving part after discovering the abandoned car with a damning fingerprint. Then she turned to drugs inside and got a consecutive sentence. She stopped permitting my visits some years ago now.”
“So ye were left holding the baby.”
�
�Aye. I thought it would be for a month or two, but it pretty quickly became apparent that was a fantasy.”
“By which point you’d fallen in love.”
I stared at her. How easily she understood me.
Cait cleared her throat. “What happened with Liv’s family? Did they get sentenced, too?”
A prickle ran down my spine. “Her father is still inside, but her brothers were released earlier this year.”
Caitriona’s fingers dug into my bedspread, and I could see her putting pieces together. Why we moved. Why we were here.
“Is Isla in danger?”
“Liv believed so. Despite naw wanting to see us, she was clear over her warning. They want Isla. Threatened Liv for keeping her from them. I suspect that they might still try to use her as she’s part of two warring families.”
“Then you’re in danger, too.”
That hardly mattered, but I nodded acknowledgement.
“The best I can hope for is they give up trying to find her. They have no idea that I am involved, and I’ve been very careful to keep us off public records in any searchable form.”
With her gaze dropping to the floor, Caitriona asked her next question so quietly I had to strain to hear it over my own rushing blood.
“Is Lochinvar Ross even your name?”
“Yes and no. Ross is an assumed surname. Lochinvar is my name, but not my first. I was called Bram after my father, though my family always called me Lochie.”
“Will you tell me your real name?”
“Bram Lochinvar MacNeill.”
She raised her gaze and repeated the name. “Why are ye telling me this?”
“I’ve lost contact with my sister. She’s a serving officer so it happens, but I need someone else to know Isla’s story. In case anything happens to me. Or to her.”
For a long moment, Caitriona searched my gaze. I couldn’t read her mind on this. Of anyone I’d ever met, Caitriona was the most level-headed and honest. She called things as they were, and I trusted her.
Relief trickled in and replaced my anxiety from reliving the past.
“I’m glad ye told me. I can’t imagine how difficult a decision it must have been to take on Isla in those circumstances.”
It had and hadn’t. “I fell for the bairn instantly. The rest became a necessity.”
“Does Isla know?” she asked.
Ah fuck.
My skin turned clammy.
“Naw yet.”
“Any of it?”
“Only that we changed her surname and had to move for safety’s sake.”
Realisation dawned in Caitriona’s eyes. “Ye think I can help her, because of Scarlet? Because my mother isn’t my biological ma?” She swung her gaze off me. “Is that why we’re friends?”
“Ye think I’m using ye? No. I had no idea of your background until after we started… Whatever this thing is we have.”
She slumped. “Right. Sorry.”
I dug my hands into my hair and wrenched it, then gave up my cool-headed act and dropped to the floor in front of Caitriona. On my knees, I took hold of her shoulders. “Dinna apologise. I’ve just burdened ye with years of my problems. I’ve done it for selfish reasons, too. I have to keep Isla safe, which means someone else needs to know the facts.”
“I’m glad ye did. I care about her.” She linked her gaze to mine.
I leaned in and pressed my mouth to hers.
Caitriona cupped my jaw, her fingers sliding over my beard. She made a small sound of need, and sparks blazed between us.
Always a man of action, I came alive with fierce and instant heat.
I stood, bringing her with me, and backed her to the wall. Caitriona clung on to me and, as we kissed, I picked her up by her thighs. She wrapped her legs around my waist, squeezing me, and I surged against her.
Passion exploded. My breathing came hard. Caitriona wrenched my t-shirt from me, then moved to undo my jeans.
I paused to let her do it and pressed a kiss to her throat. “Hard and fast this time.”
Her quick nod gave me the green light.
Dropping her to her feet, I dragged down her leggings. She was bare underneath, and I cupped her between her legs, sinking my fingers into her arousal, acutely aware of how I’d done this. Turned her on. I’d never get over the fact that she wanted me. Was wet for me alone.
Caitriona moaned softly. I badly wanted to taste her, but there was only one way this was going down.
Kicking away the rest of my clothes, I removed Caitriona’s shirt, taking a second to admire her perfect tits, then grabbed her back into my hold. My nails-hard dick sought entrance to her soft body.
“Condom,” she whispered.
Fuck. I muttered an apology then dipped to take what I needed from my jeans. Suited up, I got back into position with her legs around my waist, then oh-so slowly, slid into Caitriona’s tight heat.
We both suppressed a groan.
My dick pulsed, thickening even more. I withdrew then slammed home. Caitriona gasped then grabbed my hair to yank my face to hers. She kissed me, swallowing my next groan. This was too good. Too natural and right.
I picked up speed, jacking my hips to fuck the way I’d promised. Before, I’d made love to her, but this was pure animalistic need taking over. I’d trawled through painful memories and stirred the beast inside me.
Heat eclipsed sense. Getting Caitriona off became my goal.
In and out I surged, charging myself up. My woman received me, taking everything I had to give. Our kiss turned sloppy until we abandoned it, and I tucked my head into the crook of her neck.
I slammed into her. Over and over, crashing down with increasing power. Even in my worked-up state, I could feel her clamping down on me inside. She clawed at my back, silently urging me on.
In my position of pinning Caitriona against the wall, I could only fuck, following an undeniable need to give this lass my all. Whatever we were to each other, I’d crossed a line tonight and there was no going back.
Nor did I want to.
The change in my lonely life had undone some closely held part of me.
A fresh wave of lust rinsed through me, and the base of my spine tingled. Fuck. I could go for hours if Caitriona wanted, but I also needed to come. Soon.
I slowed to change the angle, checking Caitriona’s expression in the dim light of my bedroom.
“Don’t stop,” she begged, hoarse. “I’m close.”
Ah God.
Her words released the control I’d so carefully guarded. Now, I pounded her, hitting home with all my force. A tremor took my muscles, not enough air in the room to fill my lungs.
“Lochie!” Caitriona arched in my arms, then squeezed me, coming hard.
With barely held relief, I gave up my control and followed her over the edge, surging once more then stilling. Inside her, I came, spilling the contents of my balls. My orgasm obliterated my thoughts, and I soaked up the sensation. The utterly addictive feeling of pleasure. Aye, this was so needed, so perfect.
Together, we breathed, coming down from the high. As soon as my head cleared, I carried Caitriona to my bed and set her down. Then I disposed of the condom and climbed under the covers, drawing my woman back into my arms.
She reached for me and held me close, her head on my chest.
We let the world, the good and bad and everything in between, drift away.
22
Caitriona
“Daddy!”
At Isla’s voice, I jerked upright, disorientated for a moment.
I was in Lochie’s bed, in his cottage.
Naked.
The door handle twisted, and I sucked in a breath then dove back down, whipping the covers over my head.
“Can I watch TV?” the little girl chirped.
“Aye. I’ll be out to make your breakfast,” Lochie replied in a low rumble.
After a beat, he pulled the blanket from my face. An amused smile curved his lips. “Morning.”
“S
hite. I didn’t mean to sleep over.”
“It’s okay. She didnae notice.”
He ran his arm around me and hauled me onto his chest. Then kissed me firmly.
Dazed, I blinked at him. “Whoa. Good morning.”
Lochie’s smile spread, and I caught it, grinning back like a dope. After everything he’d said last night, I knew him so much better. And liked him all the more for it.
Bram Lochinvar MacNeill. Harbourer of a fugitive, and devoted father.
“You’re still talking to me after last night,” he said.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Lochie raised a shoulder, his confidence hanging on an edge.
“I do have a question,” I said.
“Shoot.”
“Why did ye agree to Liv’s request when she showed up? It was a lot to do for someone ye hadn’t seen in years.”
He sighed. “I know. It was. But I’d always felt such guilt over the way she’d left.”
“Was she your girlfriend?”
“No. She wanted me, and I was always leaving for the military, so I refused her.” Lochie threw back the sheets and slapped my backside. “Come on. We’ll have a job sneaking ye out, so why don’t ye stay for breakfast?”
I nodded slowly. Lochie’s bedroom didn’t have a door to the outside like mine did. Theirs was in the kitchen and presumably locked. We climbed from the bed and collected our clothes, dressing while shooting glances at each other. Once ready, Lochie opened the door then peered out. He waved me to follow, and we walked the short hall.
In the living room, Isla perched on the couch, her back to us.
Her da silently walked past, and I tiptoed until closer to the door.
“Isla, Cait’s joining us for breakfast,” he suddenly announced.
The little girl’s head swivelled. I froze on the spot.
“Hi, Cait. Can you braid my hair before school? Da isn’t very good at it.” She held her gaze on me, ignoring the cartoon playing in the background.
“I’d love to,” I replied.
Lochie subtly reached for my hand and pressed my fingers. “Are ye cold? Grab my hoodie from the chair. I’ll make coffee.”
He disappeared into the kitchen, and I released a breath. My thin t-shirt wasn’t warm enough for the chilly morning, so I grabbed the hoodie then took a minute in the bathroom before joining Isla.
