Belonging to a Highlander

by K. M. Patterson

  Claude honked loudly, of a sudden, flapping his wings wildly and giving her a start.

  "Claude," she called, chiding him for his disturbance of the quiet area. "Silly gander," she muttered as she watched him flap his way from the garden and disappear.

  She had just risen from an old herb bed when a whoosh passed her ear and fanned through her hair. She stilled a moment, unsure what that whoosh was until a thunk at her back startled her even more.

  Alarm spiked through her.

  Catriona whirled around to see an arrow stuck in a tree at her back, but turned around just as quickly to catch the archer. She was so startled that a scream did not so much as part her lips. Her breath stuck in her throat, and she rose on her toes to scan the area behind the short wall, but the retainer wall of the garden rounded the edge of a tremendous growth and she could see no one fleeing away, only thought she might have heard a scurry of running steps.

  Catriona waited not a moment longer and took to the keep, running as fast as her skirts would allow.

  She was in a panic, which was not normal for her, but she had never been shot at either. Catriona raced up the steps and to the doors of the keep. She was going so fast she ran face first into a hard chest.

  Hugh grabbed her by the arms to steady her and keep her from falling. He bent with a look of immediate concern.

  "What has happened?" he demanded.

  Only when he spoke did she realize it was indeed her husband she had run headlong into. His concern was sharp as he looked her head to foot, assuring himself she was not injured.

  "I was leaving the garden when someone loosed an arrow at my head."

  Hugh's eyes rounded, and he looked to his side to Malcolm, who nodded and started from the keep instantly, motioning two other men close by to follow.

  "Stay here, lass." Hugh signaled to another in the hall. "Take her to her rooms and make sure she stays there," he said.

  "Aye, Laird Hugh," Bess chimed from Catriona's side.

  She hadn’t noticed her ladies’ maid until that moment, nor Jamie's men swarming her. Gillie took her by the arm as she and Bess were surrounded.

  "Come now, milady." Bess put a hand to Catriona's back, steering her. "I've been practicin' being a maid today, I have. Let me get you cleaned up."

  Catriona allowed the chattering Bess to lead her away to her chambers, glancing back only once to see Hugh leaving the keep and the doors shutting firmly behind him. She was in too much a daze to do aught else.

  ****

  Hugh looked over the short stone wall surrounding the garden and frowned as he scanned the thick growth for any movement. A tremor of anger knifed through him. He reached the garden only a few steps behind his men and they first scoured the area beyond the garden in search of the wrongdoer, but finding no one, they returned to where Catriona had been.

  Hugh turned to see Malcolm pluck the arrow from the lone, thick tree shading the east corner of the garden closest to the keep.

  The man approached him, looking at the sharp tip of the arrow. When Malcolm reached him, Hugh took the arrow by the shaft and lifted the head to his nose. No trace smell of poison filled his senses, so he ran his thumb over the pointed end.

  The arrowhead had been sharpened to perfection, and the arrow itself was finely made. Alas, even as detailed in design as the weapon was, he did not recognize it as anything his men would use. The feathers on the end had been colored and seemed more decorative than useful. He handed the arrow back to Malcolm.

  "Find the fletcher and see if this is one of his. If no, see if he kens who else might have fashioned it. This upsets me, and I want this matter settled. I want to ken who tried to kill my wife."

  Malcolm nodded once and left him.

  Who had done this? The McAlisons? Hugh had not expected them to attack so soon, yet it was possible. Or could it be Ethelwulf or his sub-king son? Hugh liked that notion even less. Jamie had said they could expect the Saxon nobles to be a threat against them.

  Hugh looked around the space his wife had worked so hard in, and though he did not wish to trap her indoors, doing so was the only option to keep her safe until he could sort this disturbing matter out.

  In the meantime, he would have to find a way to keep her well entertained.

  Chapter Sixteen

  "As I was a-walking early one morn in the Spring, I heard a lass so sweetly sing…"

  Hugh's song broke off, and he hummed the line he couldn’t remember as he washed his arms, lathering soap over taut muscle.

  "As she sang I—" He stopped short at a sound, his eyes darting to the chamber entrance.

  The wooden door creaked open, and Hugh's hand went to the dirk at the side of the copper tub, sitting on a small stool there. He stilled in shock at the sight of Catriona, anticipation instantly jumping in his veins.

  "Lass?" he asked as she turned to close the door. The earlier incident rose to his mind, but she did not seem frightened or alarmed, so he relaxed. His brow furrowed. "I came to your chambers earlier, but Bess shooed me away and would'na let me see you."

  No response.

  He watched her delicate fingers push the door closed. Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath before she turned and approached him. She wordlessly continued to look at her hands clasped in front of her.

  "A third night in a row my wife comes to my bedchamber, what a lucky mon I would be if only…" He dropped off there, looking down her, his throat drawing uncomfortably tight and dry.

  Hugh watched her in fascination. What made her skin appear rosy, the orange glow of the fire or the heat of a blush? She appeared freshly clean, her hair only slightly damp.

  "Are you all right?" he asked. "You do'na have to come to my bed tonight, if you wish more time. Considering…" He cleared his throat.

  She shook her head, but smiled blushingly.

  Hugh rested against the high back of the tub when she stepped closer, releasing the dirk and resting his arms on the sides of the copper lip. "You’ve come to wash your husband?" His words were a tease only, meant to draw out some reaction, any reaction. Catriona would never, he knew—not yet. Not until he'd had her, and he would have her. He would win her over.

  He had told her to come to him, but he had to admit he was surprised she had actually done so giving what had occurred.

  Her eyes flashed to the soapy bubbles cresting the water of the tub and then just as quickly looked to her feet. "You look as though you’ve already bathed," she said.

  He was beginning to enjoy this. "Alas, had I kenned you were truly coming, wife."

  She blushed even deeper and cast her stare to the slant of moonlight coming through the open window across the chamber. She gave a shiver. "Are you no cold?"

  "Nay, lass. You’ve set a fire in me I can'na rid myself of." Hugh laughed softly, a heady purr he knew drove women mad. True, he had not wanted this woman at all a mere five days past, but now, in his chambers… His eyes fell down her shapely form, and his throat drew painfully tight. Desire filled his veins.

  "You bade me to come to you," she said softly.

  Hugh's fingers tightened on the edges of the tub as he looked on his wife. A blue and silver plaid hanging from her shoulders covered her white bedclothes. His colors covered his woman.

  "That I did."

  Catriona was yet again scrutinizing the wall, fidgeting, rocking on her toes and biting her lip.

  Hugh stood from the bathwater in all his naked warrior glory, offering her a full frontal view of the husband she had acquired with her unwise deception.

  Catriona did look.

  She looked good and long, unknowingly stirring his arousal with her greedy stare.

  "Am I to your liking, wife?" he asked as he stepped over the side of the tub, planting his feet on the soft fur rug placed there.

  The plaid about her shoulders dropped, forgotten, to the floor and pooled around her feet.

  As he watched her, Catriona turned her stare to his sinewy body. Shyly at first, then her perusa
l turned bolder, and desire sparked in her eyes. She watched the droplets of water as they trickled from his wet hair down his shoulders to his chest. The cool drops gathered into a single rivulet to run between the double ridges of muscle in his abdomen. His cock throbbed as her eyes trailed there, and blood rushed and swelled, bringing him to a state of utter arousal from just one look.

  She gaped, gawked, gasped, and finally sputtered. The fire was not what colored her cheeks so, he decided. She watched in rapt fascination as he stood erect.

  From the deep blush she had somehow gone ashen, and this concerned him greatly.

  "You'll no faint on me again?"

  She shook her head, her eyes misty.

  With a crook of his finger, he beckoned her to come. "Undress," Hugh said, his voice quiet. When she made no move to come to him, he took a step toward her. She still did not move, her feet anchored to the floor, but she did hold his gaze. Fright stared back at him, and he realized he had sounded too gruff for a virgin.

  "'Tis all right, Catriona. You're no expected to ken what to do the first time." He lifted a hand to brush his fingers across her hair, down her soft neck, to her collarbone. His fingertips brushed her skin with feather lightness, skimmed over the bone there, to the silken ties at the tops of her shoulders holding her gown in place.

  One pull would render her bare before him.

  He swallowed hard at the enchanting sight.

  She took a step back, her eyes flashing to his, the pools of blue wide and afraid.

  "You’ve no reason to fear me," Hugh said. He advanced a step, reached for her, and pulled her to him. His hand cupped the back of her neck and tilted her head. "No reason to fear what is to come."

  He wanted her over anything else, this lass who had caused him great troubles. He wanted her more than he wanted breath, but her hesitance tugged at his heartstrings. He didn’t wish to frighten or hurt her.

  For a long moment, he merely cherished her with his gaze.

  "Touch me." Hugh reached and took her hand, pulling her palm up flat against his chest, his heart under her hand. "Do you feel what you do to me?"

  Catriona's tongue darted between her lips, her eyes falling from his to his bare chest, moisture from his bathwater still clinging to his skin.

  "Aye," she breathed.

  ****

  The glow of the fire danced on Hugh's bronzed skin as Catriona explored her husband's body first with her eyes and then her hands. His insistence compelled her to touch him, to travel the length of his torso with her hands.

  The chamber was aglow with the light of candles, but in Hugh's dominating presence, she wasn’t afraid of the firelight.

  Her fingertips ran down to the corded muscle of his abdomen, she felt the tensing of his muscles as her fingers moved over him, heard him swallow hard. His hands closed into tight fists at his sides.

  The amount of control he wielded thrilled her.

  She shamelessly wanted to send him spiraling in the other direction.

  Catriona dropped a steamy gaze to his shaft, but she did not touch him there. She was afraid to, afraid of the reaction in him she wasn’t yet prepared for. The caress of her eyes elicited a movement, a twitch of his thick manhood. A bulging vein on the underside of his shaft caught her eye as his member flexed upward.

  "Lass." Hugh's voice was as strained as the skin over the head of his cock.

  Catriona ignored him and slowly circled Hugh, her fingertips lighting on his shoulder and traveling down lightly over all his hard maleness. She stopped at his side, admiring the glow of the firelight on his strong back. Catriona mapped a scar there with her fingertip, wondering what instrument of war had caused such a terrible looking mar. The new skin that had healed the wound looked shiny and stretched tight, like the scar from the burn she’d received the night her mother died.

  Catriona rushed those feelings of remorse away.

  She gave the scar a gentle kiss, tasting his spicy skin, before her fingers fell to his backside, and she chuckled at his reaction when she touched him again. She ran her fingers over each muscular buttock, slowly, teasingly. She wondered how long Hugh might hold onto his strict control.

  She was tempted to test his limits.

  She bent her head and kissed his back as she touched him, her fingers sliding up his sides and her mouth leaving a trail of feathery kisses from one shoulder-blade to the other as she came around him. His skin tightened under her lips, and she looked down to find mighty hands curled into hard fists. The restrained power there both fascinated and delighted her.

  She came back to his front. Her eyes met his, but she took him in her hand and Hugh's eyes shuttered, a sound of pleasure rumbling from his lips. He started to reach for her, but she brought up a hand to ward him off and keep him where he was.

  Catriona reached up, before she lost her resolve—Hugh's fierce reaction to what she was doing became her only strength now—and pulled at the tie at her left shoulder. The lightly tied knot fell away quickly, and she took one sleeve of her nightgown and pulled it slowly from her shoulder. She turned her head to watch the thin material fall away, with it revealing one perky, ivory breast.

  Her nipples hardened instantly, not from the chill in the room, no. The cool draft no longer bothered her. Hugh's intense look played havoc with her, his stare locked onto her breast as though his mouth were already on her.

  Catriona swallowed hard and pulled at the remaining tie, then pushed the other sleeve away. Her nightclothes slithered down her body and pooled around her feet.

  She stepped forward until the tips of her breast touched him, until the thick head of his shaft scorched her belly. Gently, like a feather stroking his skin, like fire dancing over his flesh, she kissed the hollow where his sternum dipped.

  Her lips hadn’t even left his skin when Hugh grabbed her up, not waiting a moment more.

  He quickly swept her into his arms and kissed Catriona all the way to the bed where he deposited her. When he rose over her he looked on her with heated longing, a way she had never imagined Hugh would look at her.

  She liked the look.

  She liked his desire.

  He pushed her legs apart and settled between them.

  "Wait—"

  "Do'na ask me to wait now," Hugh said, his look turned pleading.

  She let out a sigh, having forgotten her protest, and melted into his strong body. When she thought he would enter her, he didn’t. He moved lower, kissing her breasts each, squeezing one while closing his mouth over the other.

  Catriona whimpered and bucked her body against his.

  "You do'na ken how long I've wanted to do this."

  "How long?"

  "Since the first time I laid eyes on you."

  She grabbed his head and lifted until he looked down on her. "'Tisn't true."

  Dark blue eyes held hers. "Aye, 'tis the truth," he said raggedly.

  Hugh pulled from her hold though her fingers remained in his hair. She panicked, unsure what he meant to do. When his lips seared her belly, leaving a trail of hot wet kisses over the flat of her stomach, she sucked in little cries.

  And then, he dipped his head even lower and she came off the bed wildly, pulling his head from her altogether when she felt him move against her inner thigh, the heat of his mouth closing over her sex in a single searing, warm, decadent kiss. One indescribable bolt shot through her core, tightening the muscles in her belly.

  "Hugh," she cried. "Nay! 'Tis a sin."

  He laughed and gathered her hands in his, using the weight of his body to press her back down. Hugh sinned anyway. His mouth found her heat once more, and he kissed her there until her body fell back to the bed. She felt his tongue slip up between the petals of her sex, and then he fused his lips on her in a sinfully carnal kiss. The muscles in her lower belly twitched and convulsed, and the longer Hugh worked his mouth on her, the spasms increased tenfold until she could not keep still under him, contorting her body off the bed.

  She reached for somethin
g she had no knowledge of, then came apart.

  Catriona gasped at the intensity of her first climax, of the unparalleled erotic frenzy. Her fingers danced over the naked flesh of Hugh's shoulders, sank into his hair, searching for purchase anywhere as she wildly, helplessly clung on. He was her only anchor to reality as mighty waves of pleasure struck her hard.

  Only when her hips rose and fell of their own accord, undulating in perfect rhythm, did he rise above her. "Your sin tastes sweet, lass."

  She gave a strangled cry at the absence of pleasure he had been giving her. "I need you to … to…" She made a mewling sound.

  "To what?" he asked, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth before gathering her hands to lace his fingers through hers. He pinned her hands to the bed, then kissed her senseless.

  As soon as her lips parted, his tongue slipped inside, stroking and exploring with sensual precision. Each caress kindled a deep response she could not explain. She only knew she needed him a way nothing else could satisfy.

  He incited a restless frenzy that made her want to squirm right out of her skin and crawl into his. To get as close as humanly possible. When he let her hands go and drew his fingers down her arms, down her sides, gripping her hips and shifting her under him, she shivered, trembling all the way down to her toes.

  She sucked the breath from his lungs with her gasp of delight as delicious quivers raced through her lower belly and surged to the tips of her breasts.

  Hugh growled low, the sound rumbling into her throat. When he rose, his eyes turned fierce. She felt his large hands gripping her thighs, pulling them apart, and the thick head of his shaft probed against her delicate flesh.

  Catriona panicked then, pushing at his chest in a sudden swell of panic.

  She cried out, or started to, but Hugh's mouth covered hers and his kiss consumed her frantic shriek.

  "Sssh," he said gently, his mouth moving to the hollow of her throat. "This shall hurt only once, and then the pain shall be over." He gathered her in his arms, pulling her close, surrounding her in a haven of warmth and strength.