Highland Redemption
Page 11
“Aye. They should return after the snow melts. Mayhap ye will see them before the MacDonald arrives.” Concern flashed behind his eyes as his gaze turned and narrowed on the door. “’Twill also mean Ross and Neil could be here soon, and I havenae had the chance to find out what Argyll wants with ye.”
“Oh.” She still couldn’t wrap her mind around what they wanted from her.
“Dinnae go out there without me until we ken where all the threats are coming from and why.”
She nodded. She didn’t want to find herself in the back of their wagon again, or worse yet, with Argyll, the man who was responsible for all those MacDonald women being pushed from the cliffs on Rathlin Island. A bone deep chill sped through her.
“We need to keep the door locked, too.”
…
The steady drip of the melting snow set a rhythmic pace as Brodie lazily traced his fingers up and down Skye’s arm. He did not mind that she still slept as he took the time to just enjoy her being there. The sun rose higher in the sky and was now shining in the window. A ray caressed her arm and hit a strand of her blond tresses that lay across the pillow, and he wished he could stop time.
But he couldn’t, and it was time to get to Kentillie and make sure Lachlan knew of the threat to him and the clan chiefs at the meeting in Edinburgh, and also of Ross and Neil and the trouble between the MacLeans and MacDonalds. But the threat that concerned him the most was that Argyll was after Skye.
Stirring, she sighed, and he uttered a quick prayer of thanks he’d had this time with her. Her sleepy eyes fluttered open and came to rest on his. She’d had no practice seducing men, but the lazy, sultry look in those hooded green gems and the sinful smile she shot him hardened his cock instantly. Although his plan had been to get her to trust him, he was the one who had fallen, sucked in beyond hope like a boot in a muddy peat bog, no chance of ever coming out the same.
He had not taken her again last night. He had wanted to, but she was so tired and after yesterday, she might be sore. This morning, he wanted her. Leaning in, he claimed her lips, devouring their sweetness and sating his need to touch her.
Her hand grasped his side, and she arched into him, enticing him to take more as her breasts rubbed against him through her shift. The provocative move sent waves of need pulsing through him, which culminated in his hardening staff. It jerked in response.
His lips left hers, and between his labored breathing he was able to manage, “Love, I want to be inside ye. I am afraid I cannae wait.”
Her mouth curved up as her eyes heated with approval. “Then take me.” The words wrapped around him and pulled him further under her spell.
Half sitting, leaning on his elbow, he slid his arm around her waist and whisked her on top of him. She gasped, and her eyes widened. He couldn’t help but grin at her response. They had been together a handful of times, but she had never been on top. It would be a new experience for her, and he was glad to be the one to teach her.
Her confession of the previous day had thrilled him—to know she’d never given herself to another, that he had been the only one to touch her and enjoy her wanton response. It galled him that once she went back to the Isle of Skye, her uncle would give her to the husband she wouldn’t name, but he pushed the thought away to focus on this stolen moment.
“I want to watch ye above me as I enter ye. ’Twill give ye more control.” She swallowed, and her cheeks reddened. “Do ye trust me, love?” She nodded. “Then, straddle me.” She did. “Now, take off yer shift,” he ordered. “Nice and slow.”
His heavy gaze studied her as she exposed her body to him. The taut skin of her abdomen, the soft curve up to her ribs, and the sway of her beautiful breasts enticed him as she shimmied the fabric over her head. She beckoned to him like a siren, just as she had always been able to pull him into the treacherous surf to be by her side.
She was up on her knees above him. He snaked his arm around her back as he moved to a seated position, his chest brushing hers. Leaning down, his mouth found one of her sensitive globes. He kissed her gently there and held her pinned with one hand at the base of her bare back.
He peeked up to see her mouth open, watching him, and he took her breast into his mouth and sucked at her nipple. She threw her head back and gasped. As she did, her slick center brushed against the base of his hardness and he fought the urge to grab her hips, lift her, then impale her as he sank into her tight sheath. His blood heated at her response, and he did it again.
This time when he pulled back, he laved the engorged peak, swirling his tongue in circles around the nipple. She whimpered, and her hips ground against his cock, and he knew he would not last long.
Her eyes returned to his; the desire in their dilated depths ignited a fire deep within him, a need he had never felt for another, only her. Her response to him seared him deep and branded him. He belonged to her completely.
“Ye keep looking at me and moving like that, love, and I’ll spill my seed before I am even inside ye.” He meant it. He had always been in control of his own body, but she did things to him no other woman could. With Skye, he felt like a rope pulled so tight he would snap.
Leaning back on one elbow, he trailed his other hand down her side, following her curves to the rounded globe of her rear. His hand slid forward and she shivered. He stroked down her thigh, up, then back down again. His fingers slid across her slick folds. Her breathing became heavy, and her lids fluttered shut as a small mewling noise escaped. She was so wet and ready to take him in.
One of his hands reached for the top of her hip while the other held his cock to guide her as he drew her down on top of him. He groaned as her slick folds engulfed him, sheathing him in her warmth. She was so tight, so right. He continued to guide her down until he was buried so deep inside her that they became one.
Her eyes were wide but excited. If he starting pumping into her, he would spill before she reached her peak. Being inside her was like being wrapped in a warm plaid on a cold night.
As he rotated his hips gently, she struggled to keep her focus on him. Stilling, he enjoyed the beauty of her above him. Her pale skin was rosy in the early morning rays, and her hair glowed with the beams that lit it like liquid silver. He reached up to touch the silken strands. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.
She started moving. It was a slow exploration, and as the revolution of her hips rocked through him, he involuntarily arched into her. A pulsating need to drive into her almost made him lose control. She began a rhythm somewhere between tentative and urgent that threatened to keep him on the edge for eternity, just where he wanted to be.
After a moment of the sweet torture, she changed her pace, lifting and lowering her hips in a slow exploration. It was such delicious torment to watch her move above him as her swollen passage slid up and down on his cock. He gripped her thighs as she moved in and out, engulfing him with each return. He would not last long, and the desire to see her pleasure peak drove him to take charge, because her satisfaction had to come before his.
One of his hands reached toward her center, and his thumb came to rest on the nub at the apex of where they were joined. With each thrust down, he swiped it over her clit. She started making soft whimpering noises and lost her rhythm.
Feeling the first shudder as her womb clenched around him, he maintained his assault on her sweet spot as his hips rose and drove into her, faster and harder. She cried out as her climax came, and leaned down to brace her arms on either side of him as he continued to pound. Some guttural sound escaped from his own throat as his release came, his seed filling her as the contractions deep within her continued to constrict around him.
She collapsed on top of him. Her limp arms pulled in to hold his sides, and she was still, other than the rise and fall of her chest with her labored breathing. He savored the feel of her warm, sated body on top of his. Pushing back her hair, he kissed her temple. She sighed, satisfied and replete.
Later, as they lay there, sated,
neither wanting to move, he trailed his fingers gently across her collarbone. Remembering he was the Raven, he came up on an elbow and met her gaze. He didn’t want to ruin the moment, but at the same time, she deserved to know at least part of the truth. “I cannae promise ye a future.”
He held his breath, waiting for a protest or angry response, but she surprised him with resignation, as if she already knew they would have to part. Her acknowledgment and easy acquiescence to his declaration saddened him more than uttering the words had.
“Aye, Brodie Cameron. I ken we are different people now.”
Blocking all thought of what was to come, he spent the rest of the day pretending to be a normal man enjoying every moment with the love of his life.
Chapter Thirteen
When she woke the next morning, Skye was alone in the bed. Sun shone through the window, but it was faint, still early. She stretched then swirled the still-warm bedding over her shoulders before she got up to peek out the window.
Between the sun yesterday and the warmer air that had remained through the night, a good bit of the snow had kept up a steady drip during the night and melted enough that it was passable. The white that had blanketed the old pines and oaks had disappeared, and the sun glistened off the wet branches as the beauty of the familiar landscape washed over her. She soaked it in and tried to commit everything to memory. It would have to sustain her for a lifetime.
It had nearly ripped her heart in two yesterday when Brodie admitted he couldn’t stay. She didn’t know what held him back, but it was for the best. She had an obligation to the MacDonald clan and couldn’t indulge the delusion that they could once again be happy. And she would never put herself in the position for Brodie to leave her alone and vulnerable again.
Turning her thoughts to today’s visit to Kentillie, she took a calming breath. It had been so long since she’d seen her friends. Had they changed as much as she had?
“’Tis a beautiful sight,” Brodie said as his warm arms closed around her from behind. She smiled and sank into the welcoming shelter of his body.
“Aye. ’Tis sad to see it go.” She looked wistfully at the snow as it melted. It was a reminder their time together was almost done.
“Nae, I mean ye. I could never get enough of this view,” his voice burred into her ear.
She smiled and leaned farther into him. “It feels like a dream. Too good to be true.”
Brodie tightened his embrace and burrowed his head next to hers. “Come, love. Let’s break our fast and get to Kentillie.”
“Has it changed much?” She tightened her fists on the plaid and pulled it tighter around her while she let her thoughts drift to happy times and friends.
“Nae.” He loosened his grip and turned her around to face him. Giving her a soft kiss on her forehead, he said, “Everything is pretty much the same. Ye ken about Donella’s babe.”
As girls, they had spent many a day planning their lives out together. Donella’s dreams had come true. Hers had crashed like fragile pottery on stone.
…
The last few days with Skye had been more than Brodie had ever dreamed could be. Regret spiked through him. He had another day or two before he would have to face his lonely existence again.
Skye cut into his silent revelries. “Is something amiss?”
“Aye, love. I dinnae want to leave.”
“Och, Brodie, I ken.” Her free hand fisted on her chest over her heart, then she placed it over the same spot on him.
He opened the door and a rush of cold air blew in. As they stepped through the threshold hand in hand, his gaze drifted around to see that the melting snow was undisturbed and no threats were visible.
Skye continued to hold his hand as the door clicked behind them, and they strolled to retrieve the horse for the short journey to Kentillie. Once there, he could speak to Lachlan about protection around the cottage and Skye until he could clear the MacDonald and the laird could take her to safety.
As they neared the castle, the old oak where she’d first told him she loved him came into view, and he smiled. He drew the horse up short and jumped down, then reached up to take her hand.
“Come, love. Trust me. There is something I want to show ye.” He squeezed her hand again, and she swung her leg around to slide into his waiting arms. The ice-topped, pearly white ground crunched under their feet as he drew her to the spot.
It was the sacred place where, on that long ago day, they had snuck away from her father’s watchful eye. He still remembered the way her chest rose and fell from the exertion of the run and the thrill of finding a few moments alone unsupervised.
Her flushed cheeks had been beautiful, but the way she licked her lips as he took her hands in his had undone him. The feel of her soft body pushed against the trunk of the tree as he had pursued her there remained etched in his memory. He had carved their initials just days before she had left him.
He pointed. “I did this after the first time we made love.”
Her jaw dropped as her gaze landed on the letters. Her fingers traced the smooth etchings indented in the bark. “It looks as if it was always part of the tree.” She took his hand, pulling it to her cheek. “I am sorry, Brodie. I am sorry for everything we lost.”
He thought to pull her back toward “their” home and take her in his arms again, to never leave the shelter of her warm embrace, but the clan needed him and she deserved a normal life, not that of a spy’s wife who would be in constant danger.
“Keep looking at me like that, lass, and we willnae make it to Kentillie today.”
“Would that be so bad?”
Her eyes turned a darker shade of green, a combination of jade and deep emerald, sultry and hooded as they skimmed up and down his frame. His cock jerked in response to her gaze, coupled with the mischievous grin she shot him. Oh, he wanted so badly to turn her around and march her back into his bed.
He groaned and reluctantly pulled back. “Later. We will make time for that later. Let’s get to Kentillie before ye destroy my resolve.”
Chapter Fourteen
Brodie sat next to Skye on a bench at Kentillie castle, sides touching, hands linked under the table, taking advantage of every second together, as if even their bodies recognized that their time was short and they would soon part ways. Dim light from the cloud-covered midday sun filtered in through the windows as he peered down the table littered with drinks, bread, and cheese, and enjoyed watching his enthralled clan members while Maggie recounted the story of how she and Lachlan had met. Skye’s jaw fell open, and she even gasped at times.
“’Tis so nice to have ye back, Skye,” Elspeth said. His aunt, Lachlan’s mother, had hugged Skye fiercely as they had entered the great hall. Elspeth had been friends with Skye’s mother before she passed away, and had acted as a surrogate for Skye when she needed guidance.
“It feels like home. I have missed everyone.” She swept her hands around in a gesture that encompassed everyone present.
“How is Alastair?” Elspeth asked as Brodie’s gaze was caught by Lachlan and Alan strolling into the hall, followed closely by Robbie, the secretive lad Lachlan had rescued from a traitor seeking to form alliances with Argyll. After extinguishing the threat to the boy, the Cameron laird and Alan had taken Robbie in, training him and making him one of the clan. Taking advantage of the melting snow, the men had gone to the village this morning on some urgent business.
Skye pivoted back to answer Elspeth as the men took seats near him. “My uncle is well, but I am fair certain he is beside himself with worry.”
Skye recounted the tale of their journey. Just as she concluded the tale of the bandits they had encountered, Donella came rushing in, holding her newborn babe wrapped tightly near her chest.
“There ye are,” Donella squealed as her eyes landed on Skye.
“Donella.” Letting go of his hand, Skye jumped up and ran around the table. The two embraced, and a gaggle of jumbled words flew nonstop as the women talked.
With the women’s attention diverted, Alan leaned in. “What were ye doing there in Stirling?”
“I was following Ross MacLean. I thought he might be behind the raids. When I found Skye in the wagon, I kenned I had to get her to safety.”
“Ye should have been taking her to the MacDonald, no’ bringing her here to take advantage of her.”
Brodie stiffened.
Alan had no right to question him, when the arse had lied for years about continuing contact with Skye. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to forgive the man he’d considered a friend.
“I dinnae trust that he isnae in league with the Covenanters.” Brodie’s jaw ticked but his eyes darted to Skye. The last thing he wanted was to go at Alan in front of her.
“Are ye mad?” Alan’s eyes narrowed.
“He has no’ once come to say he wishes to continue an alliance with us, and no one truly knows what he thinks over there on his secluded island.”
“He would never betray his religion or the beliefs of his clan.”
“Until we ken the truth, she stays here where she is safe.”
“She is no’ safe with the Raven.”
Brodie’s fists clenched again under the table.
“Enough, Alan.” Lachlan growled. “Ye dinnae need to watch out for yer cousin. Brodie will do what’s right by her, and ye damn well ken it, so stop being such an arse.”
Thank God Lachlan had said something, because he’d come seconds from jumping over the table and pummeling Alan. His gaze swiveled back to the laird. “I sent word to the MacDonald that she is here.”
“Aye. We’ll prepare for his visit, then, and welcome him formally.”
“There’s more. I didnae figure what Ross is up to, but I was able to overhear a conversation about a plot to assassinate all the clan chiefs who are planning to go to the upcoming meeting in Edinburgh.”
“Och. I was afraid the Covenanters were planning something.” Lachlan rubbed his eyes then ran his fingers through his hair.