In Bed with the Highlander

by Ann Lethbridge

  “You believe me, then?”

  The hope in her voice cut him to the quick and made him wary. If he denied his belief, the ones he never admitted out loud, she might disappear like a candle flame in a gale. The fae had their own ways of punishing humans. “Only a mad woman would make up such a tale. And you’re not that. Where were you when you fell asleep?”

  “Here in this castle. Only, it is a hotel. And it’s...well, it’s changed a lot. And the man who is the laird, offered to carry my bags.”

  “The laird?”

  “Well, his great, great, etc., grandson, I suppose.”

  “Why did you say you would not be here in the morning?” This was the real reason for this conversation, whether she knew it or not. His heart picked up speed as if the wee lass had him terrified. But it was a different emotion altogether. Something deeper, more personal.

  She lifted her face, her large eyes searching his. “My theory is this could be a dream, in which case I am going to wake up where I went to sleep.”

  He pinched her. “I’m no dream.”

  She punched his arm. He rubbed his biceps. “You pack a wallop for such a little thing.”

  “You haven’t seen me at Taekwondo.”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s a form of fighting. Old Asian art.”

  He nodded. “That accounts for the trousers, then. You are Chinese. I have read about them in books.”

  “’Fraid not, but let’s not go there. So either this is a dream or I traveled in that bed up there. And with a bit of luck it will take me right back where I started. Or...”

  “Or what?”

  A strange look crossed her face. “No,” she said. “It couldn’t be as bad as that.”

  “As bad as?”

  “As bad as wandering through space like some female Doctor Who, never knowing where the bed will take me next. There’s no way....”

  The fear in her face had him cringing inside. “I don’t know this doctor, but we can soon settle the problem.” He stood up, gently lowering her to her feet, then striding for the hearth. “We can solve this in a twinkling.” He hefted a huge ax beside the pile of logs. The blade head picked up the candlelight and glinted evilly.

  She backed away. “What are you doing?”

  Saints preserve him, terror had paled her cheeks. Did she think he would harm her? “I’m going to chop the bed up and burn it. Then you can’t be going anywhere.”

  “No.” She put up both hands. “Stop. You can’t expect me to stay here.”

  The breath left his chest in a rush. A pain replaced it. A gouging, tearing ache. “You don’t want to stay?”

  Her eyes clouded. Doubt crossed her face. “This is not about you. It’s just...” She waved an arm. “I’m not used to this. We have things where I come from. Conveniences. Toilets. Hot and cold running water. Washing machines. Planes.” At his blank look, she waved an arm. “Flying machines that carry people. Cars instead of horses.”

  “I’ve a carriage.”

  “A horseless carriage. It moves by itself. I own one. I drove it here. I have a job. Not to mention a family. What are they going to think if I just disappear?”

  The ax felt as heavy as lead in his hands, but his heart felt heavier. “A husband?”

  “Oh, no. No husband.”

  That made him feel a little better. But not much. Whatever this place was that she came from, this time, obviously he did not measure up. “I see. So the sooner you hop into bed and fall asleep, the sooner you will be home.” A surge of anger filled his gullet. He grabbed her hand, pulled her toward the stairs. “Then we best be getting you to sleep.”

  “Gavin, stop.”

  He halted. What the hell was he doing? None of this was her fault. If anything, it was his. Perhaps he’d talked to the fae once too often, telling them his dreams. Because Moirag was his dream. And now he must do everything in his power to make sure she returned where she belonged.

  He couldn’t.

  Goddamn it. Honor required it. Something inside him shattered.

  When he turned, Moirag saw the anguish in his expression and her heart clenched. “I’m in no rush to leave, man. Finish your supper.”

  “I seem to have lost my appetite.” He sounded weary, yet resigned.

  She stroked his arm. He shivered and heat blazed in his eyes. The heat of desire. Her own blood fired instantly. Her heart revved up. “Eat first. Then we’ll make the best of what time we have.”

  He hesitated.

  “Come,” she coaxed, pulling him back toward the table. “Eat and we’ll talk. Then we’ll head upstairs and say our goodbyes.”

  “I hate the idea of you going. I’ve never met a woman like you. I’ve known you for all of an hour and I find you are in my blood.”

  And on some deep level, she didn’t want to leave. He called to some primal instinct. And she felt as if she’d rediscovered the Scotland of her youth. The enchanted place of hills and heather she’d loved as a child. If she dared search deep in her heart, she feared that if she woke up here, in his time, in the morning, she might not regret it at all. That she would make a go of it. If push came to shove.

  But she wouldn’t tell him that, couldn’t let him find a way to keep her here, to take away her choices. Could she?

  “Well, then,” she said. “You chant a spell to these fae of yours and ask them to let me stay.”

  He smiled a little sadly. “While you’re whispering another so you can go.”

  “Aye.”

  A devilish gleam lit his eyes. “I’d sooner spend the time doing something to change your mind. Something other than filling my face.”

  “Bed?”

  “You are a wise woman, indeed.” With no effort at all, he swung her up in his arms. A warm glow infused her skin. She rested her head on his shoulder. “Your choice.”

  * * *

  The clock in the bedroom said it was well past two in the morning when they arrived in her chamber.

  The night was sliding away with each tick. Amid the excited beat of her heart, the warm pleasurable pulses low between her thighs, a sense of loss had her clinging to his neck, reaching to claim his mouth the moment he kicked the door of her chamber shut behind him.

  “Save me, lassie, you are hotter than Hades,” he breathed, laying her down on the bed. “I must warn you I’m going to do everything I can to make you want to stay.”

  Her mouth dried and she nodded, even as a lump formed in her throat and a burning sensation filled the back of her eyes. She blinked hard. Swallowed to soothe the prickle in her throat. “Do your worst.”

  “Oh, no, sweet lass,” he murmured, whipping his shirt over his head and working at the buckle on his belt. “I can assure you, I plan to do my very best.”

  The kilt dropped to the floor. Gloriously aroused, he filled her gaze like the vision of a dark Norse god. The candlelight turned his skin to polished bronze softened only by thick dark curling hair she wanted to rub her skin against like a cat. His erection vied for her attention. She licked her lips.

  He groaned. “Off with those clothes, my lady.”

  Between them, they divested her of bodice and skirt, and feeling more than a little wicked, she sprawled with abandon against the pillows, looking up at his face full of desire. Her nipples tightened.

  Eyes intense, he leaned in to claim her mouth, one hand at her nape, the other supporting her shoulder as he eased onto the bed to stretch his length, their bodies touching
at breast and hip. He nudged one thigh between her legs and she welcomed the brush of rough hair against her delicate skin, the pressure against her aroused female flesh. Tight little tingles radiated outward in her abdomen.

  Damn. The man was good. She moaned her approval.

  The kiss deepened, his tongue tangling with hers, slick and warm and teasing, while his hand wandered down her back, stroked her waist, her hip, her buttocks, her skin flaring to sensual life beneath his touch.

  Not enough. She grabbed his shoulders, pulling him closer, angling her hips, arching her back, longing to feel skin to skin along every inch of her.

  He cupped her breast. It felt so good, so right, that warm callused palm worshiping her flesh, she never wanted the sensation to end. Slowly, he ended the kiss, lifting his head fraction by fraction, until at last he was looking down at her face. Frantic to reclaim him, she pulled on those broad shoulders. He kissed the tip of her nose and loosened her hands from around his neck. “I’ve a treat in store,” he murmured. He gathered both wrists in one hand and raised them over her head, all the while watching her face. She tensed. She hated being held down.

  “Trust me,” he said. “I’d not harm a hair on your head, but I would give you great pleasure, if you’ll allow.”

  The words tightened her insides and flooded moisture to her core. Trust. Would she really trust this man? A man she’d known less than half a day? A man who looked at her as if she was part of his soul? She took a deep breath and nodded.

  He glanced down at her breasts, now high and round, moistened his lips, then dipped his head, circling each nipple with his tongue, his head angled so she could watch. His tongue traced her areola. It puckered. Darkened. Her breasts seemed to swell. Her insides melted. She squirmed against his thigh. He smiled. “Be still. No cheating.” His breath brushed her sensitive nipple, making the sensual torment worse.

  “I’m not sure I can.”

  “Please,” he said with a gentle smile.

  Her insides clenched, sending waves of pleasure through her body. And still he played, first one breast then the other, teasing, arousing, flicking with his tongue, until she thought she might go mad with the pleasure and the effort of lying still.

  Without any warning, he drew one nipple into his mouth and suckled. Her hips came up of the bed. Orgasm beckoned. Close. Very close.

  He released her nipple with a soft pop, left her hanging by a thread. A puff of breath cooled her heated flesh. Before she could protest, he drew her other breast into his mouth. Bliss. Heat. She couldn’t think. She could only feel. She could only want what was just out of reach.

  Never had a man brought her so close to the brink and held her there.

  She wanted to dissolve.

  “Gavin,” she moaned.

  “What is it you want, sweetheart?” he mumbled around her breast. “Tell me. I am yours to command.”

  “You, inside me. Now.”

  He reached between them, brought his swollen head to her entrance, stroked deep within the folds with torturous little rubs. “This, you mean?”

  “Yes,” she gasped, trembling. She tried to raise her hips to capture him, to draw him inside. His thigh held her in place. All she could do was increase the pressure by the tiniest fraction, when she wanted him inside her to the hilt.

  “Soon?” he asked.

  “Now.”

  He chuckled. “Soon.” He kissed the valley between her breasts, each rib, her stomach. His tongue swirled in her naval.

  Damn him. The sensations were delicious. She couldn’t protest, even though she wanted to. Inexorably he moved down her body. “Stop teasing me,” she gasped.

  “I’m loving every inch of you,” he murmured against the sensitive spot in the hollow below her hip. She shivered from her breasts to her knees. “You’d not begrudge me that would you, my love?”

  His love. She wanted to weep. She managed to shake her head as the luscious sensations flooded her and scrunched the sheets in her fists to stop from bashing his shoulders. If he wanted her like this, she would bear it. For it would be their last time together, if things went according to logic.

  Amid the pleasure, sorrow scoured her heart.

  His tongue dipped into her cleft, hot and teasing. Waves of sweet pleasure swept up her body, her breasts tingled, her heartbeat galloped out of control. She could scarcely draw breath. He sucked and nibbled and her limbs went boneless and her mind blank, except from a grinding desire to make him stop and the vague idea that she might kill him if he did.

  His tongue flicked and licked and swirled. Unbearable tension strung her tight. She could do nothing but moan and sigh.

  He lifted his head. “I will hear your soft cries and smell your scent on every breeze wafting across the heather. I will never forget. You will always be part of me,” he murmured softly, almost like a prayer.

  He rose over her, big and bonnie, with love in his eyes. Her rib cage filled with something it could not contain, it flowed between them in a mystical stream.

  “I’ll hold you in my heart for all time,” she said.

  His eyes closed briefly, agony on his face. “Ah, love, your generosity unmans me.”

  Tears welled unbidden in her throat at the pain in his voice.

  He took her mouth in a hard kiss, demanding all. She gave. Tangling her tongue with his, sucking and tasting.

  Again he lifted his head, looking down at her. “The honey of your skin and your mouth will always be on the tip of my tongue.

  “I can’t stay,” she whispered.

  He smiled. A gentle bittersweet curve of his lips. “When you go, you will take a piece of my heart with you.” He flicked her lips with his tongue, little tastes that tormented and promised.

  She thought of her mom and dad and her granny. The tears in her throat welled into her eyes. “I have to go,” she whispered against his mouth as the tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and trickled into her hair.

  “No crying, lass,” he said, his eyes suspiciously moist. “I know you cannot stay.”

  “I’ll leave a piece of my soul with you,” she said, her voice finally breaking. “I’ll never forget you. I love you.”

  “As I love you.”

  He slid inside her, filling her. Easing her pain with the pleasure of his body, giving himself. He angled his hips, sliding forward, finding her G-spot with unerring precision. Her hips rose off the bed. The man was a miracle. A god walking the earth.

  The tempo of his thrusts increased and she met them, opening to him, letting him drive deeper.

  His back was slippery beneath her hands, his breathing ragged and harsh in her ear.

  A warrior god, pounding against the shield wall of her body, but she gripped his bum and held on.

  His hands molded her breasts, her shoulders and the flare of her hips. He lifted her high and drove deeper. Her insides drew on his strength. At any moment, she would fly apart. The tension drew tighter and the sinews in his neck stood out, his lips drawing back with feral intensity.

  She broke on a cry torn from her soul.

  He caught it in his mouth. “I drink of your essence and give you mine,” he groaned.

  Slowly she floated to earth as he held her close to his chest.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, tears running down her face. Tears of joy and sorrow mingling on her cheeks.

  He kissed them away. “Rest,” he murmured. “Lie with me this night and my arms will feel you all the days of my life.�
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  She tried to stay awake. If she slept, she would never see him again. Bliss and dark swirled up warm and welcoming.

  A noise brought her to awareness. She couldn’t have drifted off for more than a moment or two, because the candle still burned, keeping the dawn away with its gentle flicker. She lay against his shoulder, warm and safe.

  He stirred, and slipped his arm from beneath her. He slid from the bed. She heard the sounds of him dressing beyond the candle’s glow.

  Panic shot through her. “You’re leaving.” She couldn’t help how desperate she sounded.

  “I’m off to fetch a drink of water,” he said. “I’ll be but a moment.”

  “Don’t go.”

  “I swear, I’ll not be long.”

  “What if...”

  His fingers touched her lips. “I need a little time, lass. Will you give me leave?”

  How could she not, when she’d told him she would not stay. But she wanted to beg him not to go. But she trusted him. Deeply. As she’d never expected to trust again.

  The thought brought a smile to her lips and an ache to her heart. “Hurry back.” It was all she could manage around the pain of loss.

  He pressed a swift kiss to her lips. “Rest, my love. I will return.” He grabbed his sword and something from the trunk at the foot of the bed and was gone.

  My love. It was enough to keep the warmth alive. She dozed, not daring to sleep.

  The sound of the door opening and closing filtered into her consciousness. He was back. She opened her eyes and smiled at him as he lifted the covers and slid in beside her. Cold radiated from his body. She shivered as he pressed close.

  He fiddled with something at her wrist. “What are you doing?”

  “Hush,” he said.

  “Tell me.”

  “I’m tying this scrap of silk to your wrist and mine.”

  “Why?”

  “So you don’t leave me without saying goodbye,” he whispered.

  He finished and stroked the hair from her forehead and kissed her there. “I love you.”