Once Upon A Haunted Castle: A Celtic Romance Anthology

by Eliza Knight

  His body was honed and muscled. Lean and tall, he walked with the grace of a predator, light on his feet and always. . . ready. Garbed or naked, he was a delight to watch.

  “This kind of fog means a storm is coming,” she said, finally gathering her wits from her shallow perusal of him. Having lived on the coast surrounded by the sea, Isabel knew the patterns and the signs. A storm could blow in off the sea at any time, but this thick blanketing mist that swirled in the wind foretold of one.

  “Aye,” he said, nodding at the sound of the wind. “We are far enough inland that the worst of it should not reach us.” He turned to her and smiled. “And we have enough supplies to keep us fed for a few days here.” Isabel stood and walked to him.

  “So this was your plan? To hide here.”

  “Nay. This is only a respite. For you to gain your strength for the rest of our journey.”

  He leaned over and lifted her chin. A gentle kiss on her lips surprised her. After having to hide their affections, this felt good to her. To be within his reach and to be able to speak to him and to accept his caresses.

  “The dark circles under your eyes tell me you are exhausted,” he said softly, kissing her cheeks. “And the way you collapsed into sleep earlier, speaks of your need to rest.”

  Her stomach let out a grumble and she watched the smile burst forth on his face. His blue eyes flashed and the smile softened the strong, masculine angles of his face.

  “And we should deal with your hunger.” She laughed then, safer and happier than she had been in weeks. The hunger in her belly was a good sign. “There are some bannocks already made.” He crouched down and search through one of the sacks. Finding what he looked for, he held out a smaller parcel to her. “Plain, but they will fill your belly.”

  “I fear we might starve if you depend on me to cook,” she admitted. “’Tis a thing I have never learned to do.” She unwrapped the cloth and found some flat oatcakes there. Taking one, she bit into the crisp wafer and chewed.

  “You cannot cook?” he asked, mocking filled his tone. “The daughter of The MacLeod has never mastered that skill?” His wink belied his voice. “Well, any good Highlander knows how to make a bannock and a decent porridge.”

  “Even The MacDonald’s son?” she asked back, laughing.

  “Aye, even his beloved second son can do that task.” He accepted the parcel when she handed it back and took a bannock from it. “I will teach you,” he offered.

  When her stomach made its emptiness known again, Alex tilted his head back and laughed. “Worry not, I will see your belly filled before we try it.”

  The oatcakes were gone within a few minutes, as was a small wedge of cheese he had packed away. He held out a skin of water to her and she quenched her thirst with it.

  “Would you like to walk a bit before the rains come?” he asked, holding out his hand to her. “From what I’ve been told, you have been kept in your chamber for most of the last weeks.” She took it and let him help her to her feet. “You might enjoy the brisk air.”

  “I would.” That had been the best of part of their journey for her. In spite of its necessity, it had been the first hours she had spent outside a building since. . . since before. . . .

  “You will tell me if I walk too quickly or if you are tired?” he asked.

  It felt so wonderful to have someone worrying over her comfort that tears filled her eyes at his words. She could only nod in reply. He lifted the latch on the door and opened it for her. The winds blew and the fog swirled, but she did not care. Guiding her cloak around her shoulders and pulling the hood up, Isabel took his hand as they walked down the hill towards the stream and then along it for a short distance.

  Although they had spoken of many things, reacquainting themselves to each other, Alex had not explained the rest of his plan. Or where they would go.

  “Tell me, Isabel,” he said before she could say anything. “What do you think your father will do? By now, he knows you are missing and not in the keep or village.”

  She shivered then, thinking on his wrath. If he had thought her disobedience was an insult, she could not fathom his reaction to her disappearance. A pang of guilt struck her then, forcing a gasp out to mingle with the mist around them.

  “Are you ill?” Alex asked, turning to her, ready to aid her.

  “Nay, not me.” Isabel shook her head. “I just realized that I left Evanna and the guard to face my father’s fury.” The food in her stomach rebelled at the thought of what he could and would do to them for failing.

  “Either of them would have done whatever they needed to do to you, Isabel,” he said softly, leaning in and touching his lips to her temple. “There was no other way to get you away safely.”

  “My father will seek retribution against anyone involved. Whether it is you or me and Evanna or anyone who helps me, it will be terrible.”

  “Then,” he whispered, kissing her forehead before releasing her, “’tis a good thing you and I are not in his grasp.”

  He stepped away from her and she fought to control the fear that raced through her, making her tremble. If he had been lashed the way she had been, she knew he would be fearful, too. He entwined their fingers and held her arm near as they continued walking. Some of the tension in her dissipated as they meandered in the mist, following the water’s edge along the burn. Mayhap when she knew the whole of it, she would feel less afraid?

  “Alex, tell me of our plans.” He nodded and guided her over a boggy place on the ground to part of the path that was drier.

  “Brodie heads back to Knock Castle to tell my father about our marriage. In about a week’s time, he will meet us on the other side of Skye, near Kilmalaug Bay, to take us home. . . or to the mainland to my cousin.”

  “Will Brodie be safe?” she asked. If his father were as ruthless and brutal as hers, no doubt Brodie would be endangered just delivering such news. She hoped Eoin MacDonald would not fault the messenger for the message.

  “My father can be a right bastard when he wants to be,” he admitted to her. “He is canny though and will listen and decide the matter on the facts of it.”

  Alex’s tone and expression told her that he believed that. She had seen her father deliberate on clan matters and make decisions and knew that his approach was very different. She did not doubt that The MacDonald, nephew to the mighty Lord of the Isles, would find pleasure in tweaking her father’s nose over this personal matter. The two powerful men, along with the head of the MacKinnons, ruled over the lands of Skye, playing one against the other in an endless game of power and control.

  “If my father disowns me or disavows the marriage, I bring nothing to your clan, Alex.” She stopped and faced him. “Why would your father support such a marriage for you?”

  “I think there are many reasons he would. You are my wife, chosen and married, in fact. He will stand by me in this, as a matter of honor if nothing else.”

  “Alex, I should tell you—”

  “Nay, Isabel.” He touched a finger to her lips to stop her words. “If he does not, if he refuses to honor my vow to you, we will seek a place with my cousin. ’Tis known that the other branches of our clan have no love for my father.”

  Her fear about being pregnant and losing the bairn prevented her from forcing the news out. Nay, ’twas best to wait until she was certain, that there was no more bleeding or other signs of that condition, before sharing it with him. By then, they would be settled somewhere. . . together.

  The winds picked up then and she could not help but shiver against it. It took little time for the warmer winds of summer to give way to autumn and then winter here. These storms could be vicious as they rolled off the sea and this one felt just that.

  “Come,” Alex said, taking her hand once more. “We should return to the cottage before the worst hits.”

  They were still some distance from the cottage when the mist turned to heavy rain and they began to run to take cover inside. Though out of breath when he closed th
e door behind them, Isabel felt alive for the first time in weeks.

  She watched as he added some blocks of peat to the small hearth to warm against the growing chill. He stood and stretched, tossing his cloak over the pile of supplies and then hung hers on a peg by the door.

  Something shifted within her then and she knew that she needed his touch now. Not the gentle, soothing caresses of last night. Nay, she needed to feel their passion course through her blood. She needed him to reclaim her body even as he held her heart.

  “Alex?” she whispered, drawing his gaze to hers.

  “Isabel?” Again, love and concern filled those eyes as he searched her face.

  “Kiss me, Alex. Just kiss me.”

  His momentary hesitation tore her apart. Was he so put off by her condition and the way her back looked that he no longer desired her? Guilt followed that seed of doubt for he had not shown any reluctance before this.

  Then he strode across the small space between them, stopping so close she could feel the heat pouring off his body. He leaned down as she tilted her face up to his.

  “You want me to kiss you?” he asked in a voice deeper than usual. Before she could say a word, he stared into her eyes. “But ken this—’twill be more than one kiss, Isabel. More than kisses as well.”

  “I want to feel something other than pain and fear, Alex. I need to. So, aye,” she said, sliding her arms up around his neck. “Kiss me.”

  Chapter Eight

  He had never heard more precious words. She wanted him. In spite of the terrible cost of loving him, she wanted him.

  And God knew, he wanted her. His hands shook as he drew her closer and touched his lips to hers. Remembering where her wounds pained her the most, he avoided touching her there as he took possession of her mouth and thrust his tongue in to taste her deeply. Had she grown sweeter in their month apart?

  When she sighed against his mouth, accepting his kiss and opening more to bring him in deeper, Alex fought for control. Whether or not she desired this, him, she was wounded and he needed to have a care for her. He moved his hands up to cup her head as he kissed her mouth and then slid down to taste the line of her jaw and the sensitive place below her ear. Her shiver and moan spoke of his success in arousing her.

  His body hardened and his muscles tensed with each sound and each taste. His cock rose, ready to fill her. His mouth watered as the thoughts of what he would like to do raced through his mind.

  Everything, it whispered. All of it. Leave no place on her untouched, untasted, or unclaimed. Oh, he could very easily do that and spend the hours here exploring her so thoroughly that he could make her respond to even his voice. But. . . .

  This could not be that night. This needed to be one of pleasure and comfort for her. Alex drew back, loving the breathlessness of her when he did. Her lovely green eyes almost glowed as she watched him. Her lips already looked well-loved and he had only begun. Sliding his hands into her long blond hair, he loosened her braid and drew the locks around her.

  “Let me,” he said as she reached up and tugged on the laces of her gown.

  He batted her hands away and smiled. Though it would be easier for him to lift both her gown and shift up and off, it would hurt her to move that way, so he unlaced the gown down the front until he could slide it off her shoulders. His hands may have shaken as he loosened the shift and pushed it down.

  Following its path down her body, he caressed her breasts and belly and thighs as the cloth fell. She arched against his hand, her legs easing apart and asking for more. His mouth moved along the same path, her nipples tightened when he licked and then suckled them. And the sounds, the wondrous sounds of arousal and pleasure she made, spurred his own desire higher and higher.

  Her belly rippled as he kissed there and he felt her hands tangle in his hair, grasping and pushing him on, when he reached the flaxen curls that guarded the center of her. Kneeling before her, he pressed his mouth there and he glided his fingers between her thighs and into the heated wetness.

  She rocked her hips then, sliding away and then back against his hand. Her own hands became frantic in his hair and held his face against her. Alex needed to be inside her. As though hearing his thoughts, she gasped out.

  “Take me, Alex. Come inside and finish this, I pray you!”

  She had never been reticent or shy about their joinings or their mutual pleasure and he offered a prayer of thanks that she was not now. He leaned back on his heels and looked up at his beloved. Isabel looked like a goddess then, standing naked before him—her skin flushed with arousal, her nipples taut and tight and her eyes dark and dusky now.

  He wasted no more time then. He tugged his shirt off and loosened his belt, dropping the length of plaid to the floor as he stood before her. Her gaze dropped to his hardened flesh and it pulsed in reaction. He did not bother with his boots. Alex took her hands in his and stepped back until the pallet was at his feet. Then, he climbed backwards onto it and eased her to her knees over him. She smiled when she understood what he was doing.

  “Will this be an easier way?” he asked, even as she moved closer, bringing her heated flesh over his cock. Alex leaned over and suckled on one dark rose nipple and then the other, loving the way her body arched against his mouth.

  “Aye, aye, aye,” she whispered, with each slide of her body.

  Her words became a chant that urged him on. Alex eased his hand between them and stroked the heated folds of her woman’s flesh. Slow then faster. Gentle then harder. Along the outside and then into her flesh. Her expressive face told him when he was doing it right for her. Those green eyes drifted shut and her head tilted back as he pleasured her. Isabel’s mouth opened as her breaths came in panting gasps, faster and faster until he knew he needed to be deep inside her.

  He lifted her forward and slid his cock in, her hips canting so he could enter. Gasp followed gasp until her breathing became one long inhalation as she slid down his flesh, taking him all inside her body. His cock swelled then, her muscles surrounding his length and arousing it even more.

  “Isabel,” he whispered. “I am home.”

  She opened her eyes at his words and a single tear tracked down one cheek. He leaned forward carefully and kissed its path as it fell. Alex held her face in his hands, seated as deeply as he could be, and kissed her, pouring his love into her, as his seed would soon do. He lay back down then, drawing her with him until her golden hair fell around both of them like a curtain of the finest silk. Supporting her arms, he rocked his hips, sliding in and out of her tightness with each movement.

  “Does it hurt you, love?” he asked, searching her face for any sign of pain.

  “Nay, Alex.” She smiled then, licking her lips and shaking her head. “It feels wondrous.”

  Their bodies soon found the rhythm they sought and everything within him grew tighter and hard. The center of her began to spasm around his erect flesh and she leaned her head back, moaning out a sound that filled his heart with joy and pleasure. He thrust faster and faster, deeper within her, over and over, until his seed poured out of him.

  No words were spoken for several minutes. Isabel relaxed and lay over him, her breasts against his chest, their hips closed, and their flesh yet joined. She tucked her head under his chin and Alex reached up to gather her hair in his hand. Stroking her head, he whispered of his love.

  Only a soft snore revealed that she slept there in his arms, draped over him like the finest silk. His own body satisfied and his heart full, Alex dozed while she slept. A slight tensing was his first sign that she woke.

  Isabel came to her senses, warm and relaxed and in less pain than she had felt in weeks. She should feel some embarrassment that she had fallen asleep on top of her husband, even while his male flesh remained within her. She should, but she did not.

  “Are you well, Isabel?” he whispered. She heard his words and felt them rumble underneath her cheek where she lay against his chest. “Did I. . . .”

  She stopped his words with a
kiss before he could ask her again.

  “You did not hurt me, Alex.” She kissed him again before trying to push herself off him. Truly, she should move since they were not. . . not. . . . Or were they?

  “Then, I pray you, stay,” he urged. As he smiled at her, his cock began to harden within her.

  Though they had loved and joined many times, this had not happened before. She tried to remain still as she felt his flesh fill her. Her inner muscles responded without her command, tightening around him in an echo of her recent release.

  “Again?” she asked, enjoying the sensation of it.

  “Only if you wish,” he said, sliding himself out of her slowly. “You should rest.”

  He had taken such care not to hurt her while he saw to her needs and his. Her heart felt revived after making love with him. Aches and pains had been replaced by such sweet pleasure and now he held back for fear of her comfort.

  “Mayhap once more?” she teased.

  He laughed then and dragged her face to his, kissing her deeply. She reached out to stroke his face and then slid her hands down to his hips. Every inch of him was strong. Every part muscled. And it was hers to enjoy. Isabel lifted her mouth from his to catch her breath and watched his face for a moment.

  His mouth curved into a smile that would have tempted any woman. And it did and it had, as she had seen the first time she watched him in the village. He was an unabashed flirt, smiling and moving from woman to woman, plying his good looks much as a baker plied his bread. A tease here. Some playful words there. Within a short time, he had gathered quite a few admirers from the women who strolled through the market that morn.

  She had been dressed not to be noticed there, enjoying a short respite from being the chieftain’s daughter and walking amongst their village. Isabel had donned an unremarkable gown and worn a kerchief over her hair that day and still he smiled as he passed. Having seen him use his wiles on so many that morn, she laughed aloud when he smiled alluringly and greeted her.