The Highlander Takes a Bride

by Lynsay Sands

  "I'm sor--" Saidh's apology died in her throat as he kissed her again, his tongue thrusting into her mouth and demanding a response. After a brief hesitation, she slid her arms around his neck and kissed him back. It seemed she wasn't going to get a scolding. At least not from Greer. Her brothers were another story, but she could worry about that later: right now her husband's hand had found her uninjured breast and was kneading eagerly as his mouth worked on hers, his tongue whipping her into a frenzy.

  Moaning, Saidh shifted slightly in his lap, her upper body twisting just a bit to press more firmly into his caress and her hands digging into his long hair to urge him on. The man could make her burn so easily, a kiss and light caress and her body went up like tinder.

  She felt him tug at her chemise and released her grasp on his hair to help him. But she paused and grunted into his mouth with pain when he began to wrench the cloth off of her shoulders, sending pain through her injured back and chest. Greer broke their kiss at once and eased back from her with concern.

  "I'm sorry, I forgot. Are ye all right?" he asked, turning his head to peer at the bandages revealed by his actions.

  "Aye," she breathed and forced a smile. "I'll just . . ." She didn't bother to finish the sentence, but gently eased herself out of the chemise and let it pool around her waist. Saidh glanced down at herself and grimaced then. Her bandages crisscrossed over her injured breast, going over her shoulder, under her arm and around her waist above and below her other breast, leaving little more than the nipple of her uninjured breast on view. Not very attractive, she decided, and then gave a start when Greer suddenly bent his head and claimed the nipple poking out from between the strips of linen.

  "Oh," she breathed with surprise, leaning back over the supporting arm he had around her waist. She then gasped and wiggled in his lap as liquid fire slid through her body, dripping down to pool between her legs.

  "Husband," she moaned, clutching at his head with one hand and his shoulder with the other as he drew on the sensitive nipple and then flicked it with his tongue. She felt his free hand sliding up her leg under her skirt and began to find it difficult to catch her breath. By the time his hand reached her thigh, she was panting shallowly and wiggling like mad, but when his hand finally found and cupped her between the legs, everything in her seemed to stop.

  Greer let her nipple slip from his mouth then and raised his head to kiss her again, and Saidh let out her breath into his mouth and kissed him back, then gasped that air back as his fingers spread the soft folds they'd been covering and slid in to find her warm, wet depths. Saidh shuddered and moaned wildly as he began to caress her, her body involuntarily moving in response to his touch, eager for more.

  When Greer thrust a finger into her, he thrust his tongue into her mouth at the same moment and, in her excitement, Saidh nearly bit down on it. She managed to stop herself in time and satisfied herself by sucking on it instead until Greer withdrew it and broke their kiss. He withdrew his invading finger at the same time and returned to letting them lightly dance over her flesh, the touch more teasing than satisfying.

  Saidh blinked her eyes open only to find him watching her face.

  Biting her lip, she clutched at his shoulders, her hips moving to the music his fingers were strumming. But after a moment, she couldn't bear either his stare or his teasing touch anymore and she groaned, "Husband, please."

  He immediately slid a finger inside her again and Saidh arched and bore down on the invasion, "Aye. Please."

  Greer withdrew his finger and bent to nibble her ear before whispering, "Promise ye'll no' slip yer guard again."

  Saidh stilled with confusion, slow to understand. Blinking, she peered at him in bewilderment.

  "What?" she asked uncertainly and then sighed and closed her thighs around his wrist and arm as he slid a finger inside her once more.

  "Promise ye'll no' slip yer guard again," he repeated, nipping at her ear.

  "Aye," she groaned, riding his wonderfully talented hand.

  "Promise," he insisted, his fingers stilling.

  Saidh blinked her eyes open, scowling with frustration. "I--"

  "Promise," he repeated. "I'll no' lose ye, Saidh. I'm happy with ye to wife. I want ye here, in me arms, like this. So vow ye'll no slip yer guard and put yerself at risk again."

  Saidh shifted unhappily. "The falling stone was no' an accident?"

  He shook his head solemnly. "And nor was the arrow. We found proof."

  "What proof?" she asked with a frown.

  "I'll explain later," he said solemnly. "For now, promise me that ye'll no--"

  "I promise," she interrupted. "I'll no' slip me guard and put meself at risk again."

  Greer breathed out a relieved sigh and kissed her forehead. "Thank ye."

  "Ye're welcome," Saidh whispered, then gasped in surprise when he caught her about the waist and lifted her off his lap.

  "What--?"

  "Straddle me," he instructed, holding her aloft.

  Saidh hesitated, glancing to the bed. "Should we no' just go to bed and--"

  "Ye can no' lay on yer back or front," he pointed out. " 'Twill be easier here fer ye. Ye'll ha'e to ride me."

  Saidh peered at him at that suggestion. She would ride him. She would control how hard or fast they went and how deep he went. The idea was an attractive one. Smiling, she spread her legs to straddle him as he eased her back onto his lap again.

  "I'm no' sure I like that smile," Greer said with amusement as she tugged his plaid up out of the way. He then closed his eyes and sucked in a sharp breath when she shifted forward until his hardness pressed against her damp flesh.

  "Ye feel so good," Saidh breathed against his mouth, rocking against his erection so that it caressed the nub his fingers had toyed with earlier.

  Greer growled against her lips, then claimed them with his own and thrust his tongue into her and Saidh sucked on it eagerly as she rocked against him again, caressing him with her body, even as she pleasured herself with his. She felt Greer's hands clasp her bottom, but resisted when he tried to shift her so that he could slip inside. She quite liked this and wasn't willing to stop now. She was in charge this time.

  "Wife," he protested, breaking their kiss to trail his mouth to her ear and then her neck.

  "Husband," Saidh breathed, urging his head to continue down until he clasped the nipple of her uninjured breast again. "Aye," she groaned, moving more firmly against him as he began to suckle. That made him groan around the nipple and then nip at it, and Saidh began to shift against him more urgently, chasing the release she wanted.

  It was an accident when he suddenly pushed inside her. Saidh rose just that little bit too much and his erection was suddenly pressing into her as she lowered herself. She stopped briefly with just the head inside and then raised herself again and lowered just that little bit, teasing him as he had her before she dropped until the bottoms of her thighs slapped the top of his.

  Greer released a guttural groan then and held her in place briefly, but then reached one hand between them to caress her as the other hand began to lift and lower her again. She realized only then that he could have taken control at any moment, but had allowed her to tease him. She didn't care. She stopped thinking altogether then, stopped worrying about rhythm, and teasing him. Her body was in pursuit of its pleasure and left her mind to take a hiatus as it began to move of its own volition, pressing into his caress and thrusting into his invasion with an eagerness that matched the tightly wound need building inside her. When it exploded inside her, she clawed at his back and froze with him deep inside to ride the waves. She was unsure which triggered Greer's release, but in the next moment his cry joined hers and they rode the waves together.

  Chapter 15

  "Ye said ye found proof that the arrow was no' an accident?"

  Greer lifted his head from Saidh's uninjured shoulder and sat back in the chair to peer at her. The quaking that had taken over his body as he'd poured himself into her was just begin

ning to slow, but she already looked fully recovered. He couldn't help thinking it was damned unfair how women came away from such passion feeling energized and frisky, while a man, at least this man, came out feeling as if he'd been run over by a full contingent of mounted warriors and was in need of recovery time and a nap.

  "Aye," he said finally. "We found a spot where the grass was pressed down. Obviously someone had been laying there fer a good while. But ye had to be shot from a standing position for the angle the arrow entered ye."

  "So they laid in wait and then stood to shoot as I rode into view," she murmured quietly.

  Nodding, Greer caressed her cheek, marveling that he had been lucky enough to find her. With most women he would have had to explain what it meant. He also would have had a terrified, sobbing woman on his hands. Not Saidh. She looked annoyed rather than weepy and afraid.

  "And the merlon that fell?" Saidh asked now.

  "There are chips at the edges of the stones and in the bits of mortar that remained behind," he said solemnly.

  "So, someone chiseled the stones free and pushed them off," she said on a sigh.

  "Aye, but then we already suspected that was the case anyway ere we went to double-check."

  "Why?" she asked with surprise, and then guessed, "Because ye kenned the arrow was no accident?"

  "Nay, because when Aulay was carrying him above stairs, Alpin told him that he saw someone on the battlements, pushing at the stones just ere they started to fall," Greer explained, and then added, " 'Tis the only reason he managed to get ye both out o' the way in time. Had he seen it e'en a heartbeat later we might ha'e lost both o' ye."

  "Did he see who it was?" she asked quickly.

  "Nay." Greer sighed unhappily. "The sun was in his eyes. All he saw was a black figure. He could no' say if 'twas man or woman or even a child."

  "Oh." Saidh lowered her head with disappointment, and then turned her gaze to where her fingers were toying with the hair on his chest and whispered, "I am sorry. Had I realized, I ne'er would ha'e taken Alpin and--"

  " 'Tis done," Greer said solemnly, covering her hands with his own. "Ye're sorry and ye've vowed it'll no' happen again. Leave off fretting o'er it."

  "But Alpin--"

  "I am guessing ye did no' drag him out there with him protesting the whole way," Greer interrupted dryly.

  "Nay, but still--"

  "Saidh," he said gently, halting her words again. Taking one hand from hers, he caressed her cheek. "I can see ye're suffering some horrible guilt o'er this. Ye feel responsible fer Alpin's getting hurt, do ye no'?"

  "Aye," she breathed unhappily.

  "Well, don't," he said firmly. "Alpin chose to join ye in escapin', and probably most eagerly. 'Twas foolish. Ye both got hurt and could ha'e been killed, but ye weren't. And I ken Alpin will no' blame ye fer his injuries. Ye needs must let it go now. Regret and guilt are useless emotions that hold ye in a past that's already gone . . . and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that allowing yerself to be dragged down by the past helps no one. It jest keeps ye from ha'ing both feet in the present where ye should be.

  "Now," he said, catching her at the waist and lifting her so that he could stand up. "Aulay'll be waiting fer us below. Let us straighten our clothing and go talk with him. We need to sort out a way to catch whoever is behind these attacks before they try again."

  Saidh's eyes widened at the news that she was going to be allowed below, but she didn't comment, merely turned her attention to quickly cleaning herself up and then dressing. Fortunately, the maids were continuing to supply this room with a basin of water and fresh scraps of linen for ablutions. At least, the basin on the stand was full of water. Saidh quickly used it to clean herself up, then dressed and went downstairs with Greer.

  Aulay was already seated at the trestle tables as Greer had said. Her other brothers were there too, all but Rory, who was apparently still upstairs with Alpin. Whether he was still working at cleaning his wound, or just sitting with the lad to be sure he was well, she didn't know.

  "How is yer head?" Aulay asked as Saidh settled at the trestle tables with them.

  "Fine," Saidh said with a shrug. " 'Twas a trifling wound at best."

  Aulay narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "I do no' ken why I ask. Ye're jest like the lads."

  "What's that supposed to mean?" Dougall asked, stiffening.

  "It means e'ery last one o' ye could stand there, yer hand sawn clean off, and blood gushing from the stump, yet each o' ye'd still say ye were fine and 'twas a trifling wound."

  "Aye, we would," Niels allowed with a grin, but then pointed out, "And so would ye."

  "True enough," Aulay admitted with amusement and then turned to Saidh again and said, "So, who ha'e ye angered since ye left Buchanan?"

  "What?" Saidh asked with surprise. "What do ye mean?"

  "Well, no one was trying to kill ye at Buchanan," he pointed out in a perfectly reasonable tone of voice. "So, it stands to reason 'tis someone ye encountered either at Sinclair or here."

  Saidh snorted with disgust. "Oh, aye, blame me. It must be me own fault someone is trying to kill me."

  "Well . . . aye," Geordie said dryly. "None o' the rest o' us ha'e ever had someone try to kill us," he pointed out and then glanced to Aulay as if for agreement only to freeze briefly as his gaze landed on their brother's scar. Tearing his gaze away, he quickly tacked on, "Outside o' battle o' course."

  "Geordie's right, Saidh," Dougall said in a rumble. "None o' us ha'e had anyone stalking us with murder in mind, but this culprit is the second one to try to kill ye."

  "The second one?" Greer asked, glancing to her sharply.

  " 'Twas nothing," Saidh assured him and then turned to her brothers to add, "I was no' the intended victim last year at Sinclair."

  "Ye were!" Conran countered. "Ye told us yerself that the villain was going to kill ye and Jo both."

  "Joe? Who is this Joe?" Greer asked with a frown.

  "A dear friend of mine," Saidh told him before saying impatiently to her brothers, "And I was only a target because the killer wanted to claim I was the killer. It was no' because I was unliked or anything of that ilk."

  "Well, it wasna because ye were liked either," Alick said apologetically. "Else she'd ha'e tried to find someone else to kill and blame fer her murders."

  Saidh scowled at her younger brother for the comment and said grimly, "I was in her way and handy."

  "What the devil are ye all talking about?" Greer exploded. "Who tried to kill Saidh? And who is this man, Joe?"

  "Jo is no' a man, she's Lady Jo Sinclair," Saidh explained. "And she--"

  "We are getting off topic," Aulay interrupted before Saidh could warm up to the tale. "Ye can explain about the Sinclairs and such later. At present, we need to sort out who would want to kill ye now."

  "Perhaps 'tis another case like the one Saidh just mentioned," Lady MacDonnell said and Saidh glanced around to see the woman standing behind her. Aunt Tilda smiled down at her briefly, and then continued, "Mayhap this is another case where 'tis no' that they do no' like ye, but that yer in the way or some such thing." She raised a hand to squeeze Saidh's shoulder and added, "That makes more sense to me than anything else. I can no' imagine anyone disliking and wanting to kill ye, lass."

  "Thank ye," Saidh breathed on a little sigh and reached up to squeeze the hand on her shoulder. As much as she hated to admit it, it was a bit distressing to have her own brothers suggesting she was unlikeable enough for people to want to kill her . . . even if she was.

  "I do no' ken," Conran said dubiously. "She can be a real pain in the arse at times."

  Saidh growled at him and started to rise, but Lady MacDonnell squeezed her shoulder gently, urging her to settle back down on the bench, and said, "Oh, go on with ye, Conran Buchanan. I ken ye love yer sister. Ye all do. Why I'd venture there is no' a man at this table who would no' give his life fer her."

  The men all grumbled, but nodded reluctantly and Aunt Tilda's smile widened. "There ye see! A woman who inspires that kind of loyalty and love surely could no' ha'e an enemy who wishes to kill her fer her own nature. Nay, I would look fer someone who would benefit from her death, or who sees her as being in their way."

  Silence reigned as everyone at the table considered that.

  "I can see I've given ye all something to contemplate," Lady MacDonnell said dryly. "Why do I no' ask Cook to send out some pasties and drinks fer ye to enjoy while ye think on who might benefit from Saidh's death? Hmm?"

  She didn't wait for an answer, but turned to head for the kitchens.

  "Soooo," Geordie drawled, glancing between Saidh and Greer. "Who would benefit should Saidh die?"

  Greer shook his head with bewilderment. "No one."

  "There's no ex-lover somewhere who may think they'd ha'e a chance with ye should she die, is there?" Aulay asked.

  "O' course no'," Greer said with a scowl and then he grimaced and added, "Ere Saidh the only women I was with were lightskirts. Ladies ha'e little interest in mercenaries."

  Aulay nodded and then said almost apologetically, "I had to ask."

  "I suppose," Greer acknowledged and then rubbed the back of his neck and said, "In truth, I think Aunt Tilda is a long way off the beaten path with that suggestion. There simply is no one who might profit from Saidh's death."

  "What about Fenella?" Alick asked suddenly, drawing all eyes his way.

  Greer scowled at him, and then said staunchly, "I ha'e ne'er touched Fenella, and ne'er would."

  Alick waved that away. "I ne'er thought ye had, but mayhap she feels that Saidh is taking her place and that were she no' here, she would still be lady o' the castle."

  "Do no' be ridiculous," Geordie said with disgust. "From all I ha'e heard since we got here, Fenella was no longer acting as lady when Saidh arrived. She had retreated to her room and stayed there. We ha'e no e'en seen her since arriving."

  "Aye, but . . ." Alick paused, frowned, apparently trying to marshall his thoughts, and then pointed out, "She may no' be right in the head. I mean, Lady MacDonnell is sure her son's drowning was no' accidental and that Fenella was behind it."

  Saidh's eyebrows rose slightly at this comment. As far as she knew the servants were not gossiping about Aunt Tilda's suspicions regarding Fenella. In fact, from what she'd learned since arriving, most of them were most sympathetic toward Fenella. She'd concluded that while Aunt Tilda had felt comfortable enough to share her suspicions with Edith and then herself, she had spoken to few others about it. But it looked like she'd vented them to Alick as well. Saidh supposed she shouldn't be surprised. Alick was a good listener.

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