The Highlander’s Promise (The Highlands Warring Scottish Romance) (A Medieval Historical Romance Book)

by Anne Morrison

  The last time they had touched each other, it had been a wild joining, something unexpected and impossible to predict. This time, they both knew what would happen. The wildfire waited, but it would not burn without her word.

  Ava tried to remember what had happened the next morning, the hurtful words that they had exchanged and the pain that had come from it. She wasn't what he wanted her to be; she couldn't be. She knew that the answer should have been no. They should fall back to sleep, and they should stop tempting fate.

  She had never been good about what she should be doing, however.

  “Yes,” Ava whispered.

  She could feel Nicholas's breath turn into something more like a growl, and as he threw one bare leg over her thighs, she felt his teeth against the nape of her neck.

  She knew how white and sharp his teeth were, like a wolf's, and the idea of them resting against the sensitive skin at her nape made her shiver. Then he bit her, sharp and almost more pleasure than pain, and she knew that there was nothing tame about what they were going to do together. She thrashed against him, not to get away but because he could fill her with sensation in a way she’d never dreamed of. His hand roamed down her body, touching her roughly over her shift, and as he pulled back from the intimate bite, he pulled the shift over her head as well.

  “That's how you should always be,” he murmured, pulling her back into his arms. “Bare for me...”

  Ava started to respond, but then she cried out instead when he lapped gently at her neck. It was pure pleasure, but she could still feel the sensual threat of his teeth underneath it. It made her shiver even as she pressed back against him. The idea of being bare for him, at Nicholas's beck and call, was thrilling even as it was terrifying. It was almost as terrifying at how appealing the idea was, that he could touch her whenever he wanted, have her whenever he so desired.

  “Beautiful perfect Ava, I'm not going to let this night go to waste...”

  The roughness of his motions made her melt against him. She wondered at how many moods there could be in this simple act, how he could make her feel so different from kiss to kiss. She wondered if any other man would make her feel this way, but she knew instinctively that no, it was only Nicholas for her.

  She gasped when Nicholas turned her onto her belly, moving to kneel between her legs. He rose over her like a storm, his hands running possessively down her sides to caress her narrow hips.

  She whimpered a little when he pulled off his own shirt. Now they were naked, skin against skin. She didn't even miss the blankets they had kicked off the bed. When Nicholas came to rest on top of her, his chest against her back, she thought that she would never be cold again.

  "So beautiful," he murmured. "You never believe me, but you are..."

  She started to answer him, but her words turned into a gasp as he started planting a line of kisses down her spine. Ava had never thought about how sensitive the skin over her spine might be before this moment. Now she knew that a brush of his lips, the slide of his sharp teeth over that skin would make her break into goose flesh and shivers.

  Restlessly, she pushed back against him, and somehow, Nicholas got even harder.

  "Eager little thing... You want me so very much. Almost as much as I want you, I would think."

  Ava didn't know what Nicholas was doing until he lifted her hips, dragging her up to a kneeling position on the narrow bunk with him behind her. She realized, her heart thundering, that he could see her more intimately than anyone ever had before, and that was before he set his palm on her inner thigh and dragged it upward.

  "Nicholas..."

  "Are you telling me no?"

  "I'm not..."

  "Good. Then let me do this."

  There was a command to his voice that she had heard only a few times before. He was as good as a fugitive in Scotland, but it reminded her that in his own homeland, he was a sworn knight, a commander of men whose word was obeyed immediately.

  What shocked her was how much she wanted to obey him, how she wanted to see where he would lead her. It was a surprise and a pleasure both, and then she felt his blunt fingertips caressing her most secret flesh.

  When she shifted restlessly against his hand, Nicholas laughed and reached forward to grab a fistful of her short hair.

  After the shock, she whined at how good it felt. He wasn't tugging her hair to hurt; instead, his firm touch was a pleasure all its own, and it kept her still while he did what he wished to do below.

  Apparently, what he wanted to do most of all was to drive her crazy.

  Nicholas's touch was firm and unforgiving, and the last thing that Ava wanted was for him to stop. It felt so good, almost too good at times.

  The pleasure that sang through her at his touch sometimes reached an unbearable level. When it did, she thrashed against his hands. Even though Nicholas laughed at her, she could feel the response in his touch, easing it back until she could bear it better.

  Ava thought she should be more concerned that Nicholas was playing with her, but it felt too good. He seemed to know her body and her needs better than she did. His touch drew her pleasure up to an almost unbearable level, and then at the last moment, before she thought for sure she would break, he pulled back, making her pant with need and wild desire.

  “Nicholas, Nicholas,” she moaned. It was the only word she could say, the only word that mattered.

  “I like how you say my name,” Nicholas murmured. Now she could hear the desire in his words as well. He might be arousing her as efficiently and brutally as he would fight a battle, but he was far from unaffected. There was a tremor in his voice that made her heart squeeze tight. He wanted her, he wanted this, and he sounded almost awed that he could have it.

  She didn't know how many times he brought her to her peak only to pull her back. She was lost to the sensations and the pleasure he was forcing on her, almost dazed. If the entirety of the English army waited beyond the door, she would be unable to do anything about it besides what she was doing now.

  Finally, finally, when he drew back one more time, Ava cried out, her voice as ragged as a crow's.

  “Please, Nicholas, please, I need you.”

  “I should make you beg for it,” Nicholas said, his voice as torn as hers. “By Heaven, I should make you feel what I have been feeling for the last few days, make you burn as I have...”

  His words drew a wild moan from her throat, and for a moment, she thought he would make her beg. Then she could feel the cracks that ran through him even as they ran through her. She was on the verge of snapping, and when he pulled back, rising up on his knees behind her, she knew he was in the same place.

  “What you do to me,” Nicholas murmured, and she squirmed back against him as his hands settled on her hips.

  For another excruciating moment, he pressed against her, and she could feel the heat of his arousal against her, making her hide her face in her hands and cry out.

  “Please, please, Nicholas,” she babbled, and then she gasped as he drove into her with one deep stroke.

  For a moment, they both went still as statues, their breathing matched, and Ava felt as if the pleasure in her had turned to something else, something that sank into her bones and would be with her forever. Then, with a deep growl that shook her to her core, Nicholas began thrusting into her, his movements as sure and powerful as the waves that lapped up against the hull of the ship.

  There was something almost primal about their position. It felt as if the pleasure that Nicholas gave her was consuming her, burning her from the inside out. She couldn't think about what he was doing, what the future might bring or what they meant to each other.

  All that mattered was the pressure rising up in her, drawing her tight, and the fear and the anticipation of tipping over the edge. She was lost in the way Nicholas moved inside her, his words of praise and the need he drew up so expertly in her. Nothing else mattered...

  She wasn't ready for her climax when it came. It exploded like a starburst be
hind her closed eyes, making her entire body tense for a moment before a release that felt all-consuming. For a moment, there was nothing in the world but her body and Nicholas's and the pleasure of what they had done together.

  Just a moment after that, she heard Nicholas's deep and wild growl before he thrust into her one last time, losing himself in her just as she had lost herself in him.

  They were frozen for what felt like an eternity. All that Ava knew was the way he felt over her and inside her, the waves rocking the ship, the pleasure fading from her and leaving a deep warmth in its wake.

  When Nicholas pulled away from her, she uttered a small moan, but then sighed with pleasure when he came down to gather her in his arms again. He settled a blanket around them, and she thought she had never felt so wonderfully worn out.

  “Ava, we need to speak about what just happened.”

  “We really don't.”

  “Ava...”

  “Nothing has changed,” she said, closing her eyes. “If you are worried about my virtue, well, we took care of that in the cave, didn't we?”

  She felt him recoil a little as if he had been hit, but he didn't pull away.

  It was the truth. She had never been a woman with the leisure or the inclination to worry about anything like her honor. As far as most of the world was concerned, she had none to speak of, lost when she left home or possibly even when she was born out of wedlock.

  “Ava...”

  “Sleep.”

  Nicholas subsided, even if she knew that he wasn't happy about it. A small part of her was touched by his concern, but it was drowned out by the rest of her, which knew that it did not mean anything in the ways of the world. She wasn't what he wanted her to be, and it was best that he learn that sooner rather than later.

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  chapter 24

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  Long after Ava drifted off to sleep, Nicholas was awake, his mind as clouded as the still waters of a swamp.

  He hadn't meant to make love to Ava again. Of course, he had wanted it. Of course, he had wanted her. She was the most compelling woman he had ever met, and even if she would laugh at him for it, the most beautiful as well. To be close to Ava Fitzpatrick was to want her, and it felt as if he had lived the last few days doing just that.

  At the same time, he knew that what they were doing must have consequences, no matter what Ava tried to tell him. He wanted her with every breath of his being, but he had an idea how unkind the world could be a woman who was doing as she was doing.

  Ava seemed to think it all unimportant, as if she could wear the words the would call her—harlot, light skirt, whore—as easily as she could wear the word bastard. All Nicholas knew was that he would kill the first man who dared.

  Finally, he realized that there was no sleep to be found for him. He somehow managed to disentangle himself from Ava's limbs gently enough that she did not wake, and he dressed silently.

  The ship was mostly silent, with only a few crew members tending to the steering and its sails. He was glad when he earned nothing more than the odd glance. He was in no mood for company, and it seemed like the only other man on deck who was not a crewman felt the same way.

  The sky above was lightening to a pale salmon, and there was a kind of beauty to the dark water below. At the rail, Nicholas looked out over the seemingly endless sea, and then the other man turned to stare at him.

  "Nicholas Whitfield?"

  It was a shock like cold water to hear his name when he hadn't expected it, and it was even stranger to realize that he recognized the speaker.

  Devon Montgomery had been something of a legend when Nicholas was fighting in Scotland. He was the last of an old line, a stubborn and determine commander just a few years older than Nicholas himself. They had fought together just south of Aberdeen, and there was no mistaking the man himself now.

  "Montgomery," Nicholas said in surprise. "What in the hell.."

  He cut himself off, glancing around at the crewmen. They seemed as unconcerned as they were before.

  Devon laughed wryly, coming to stand closer to Nicholas.

  "I wouldn't worry about it. Captain Benning and his crew don't hold allegiance to the Bruce or to Edward. I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw you. Are you back in Scotland? The last I heard, you were sent to France."

  Nicholas winced.

  "You are behind on the news. I was sent to France and spent the last while there in a prison. I'm less than a year back after Edward ransomed us."

  Devon nodded in a sympathy that felt real. Nicholas remembered that Montgomery had risen fast through the ranks, earning Edward's regard as well as plenty of enemies who would have been pleased to see him fall.

  "I'm sorry for your trouble. I didn't expect to see another Englishman here, let alone one I recognized."

  Nicholas hesitated, but then he shrugged. There was no one to care what he was doing, and Devon would hardly stop him. He told him the whole sorry tale, from losing his lands to his desperate search for his niece Catherine.

  "And the woman with me is acting as my guide," he said finally. "They won't speak to a stranger anyway, and the moment I open my mouth, it feels like half the keep wants to descend on me with knives and swords."

  "The fighting was vicious before the truce started up last year," Devon said soberly. "They will not welcome anyone from the South."

  "And with it due to start up again in earnest at any day..."

  Nicholas shook his head. "Is that what brings you north?"

  Devon pulled back a little, his face gone still as stone. He shook his head.

  "Better I not speak of that."

  Nicholas shrugged even as he wondered. Whatever brought an English commander north into the wilds of the Highlands, it was almost certainly not a pleasant thing. Given the fact that Nicholas was not currently on duty as Edward's knight, he knew that he was better off out of it.

  If a man like Devon Montgomery wanted help, he would ask for it.

  Nicholas was startled when Devon coughed slightly.

  “I saw the woman you were with when you came aboard... Do you know her very well?”

  Nicholas raised his eyebrows a little at that. Devon was staring out at the water as if this conversation were the last one he wanted to be having, but at the same time, he looked utterly determined.

  “I suppose I do.”

  “Ah. She looks a little like… Well.”

  “Well?”

  “There's a cattle raider in these parts, a woman, who they call Blair's bastard. Things up here are very different from what we are accustomed to in the South.”

  “I know that,” Nicholas said, unable to keep an edge out of his voice. “Say it out straight. What are you trying to tell me?”

  Devon shook his head.

  “Only that honor mean different things to the Highlanders, men and women both. And when it comes to England and the South, if it has nothing to do with their clans and their families, it means nothing. Their honor comes from how they deal with each other, not how they deal with us.”

  “We're hardly different in England.”

  Devon sighed, and Nicholas had an idea of how very stubborn he sounded. Devon clapped his shoulder with a kind of wry humor. It struck Nicholas as strange all around that he had run into one of the most renowned knights in Edward's company on an anonymous ship heading north.

  “No, we're not, are we? The more I learn about the North, the less I think I know the South. Just be sure of how much you want to trust your woman. She might have some nasty surprises for you if you decide to close your eyes to what she truly is, whether that's a crofter or a raider.”

  Nicholas nodded as Devon moved, a sense of disquiet sinking into his bones.

  When he returned to the tiny cabin that he was sharing with Ava, she only stirred a little when he slipped back under the covers with her.

  “Where in the world were you?” she murmured. She curled up next to
him, reaching up to rest her fingertips against his throat.

  Nicholas didn't answer, and it didn't matter either way because she was asleep again in a matter of moments, her breath deep and even.

  Be sure of her, Devon Montgomery had said, but Nicholas was beginning to realize he didn't have to be sure of Ava Fitzpatrick to know her or to need her. He didn't have to know her to crave her with every fiber of his being.

  Then that will be the end of you. Nicholas could all too easily imagine the other English knight saying it, and he knew that dire pronouncement had a terrible ring of truth to it.

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  chapter 25

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  “Is this really a port?” Nicholas asked.

  Ava glanced at him with some amusement.

  “Are you really going to complain after being cramped up in that cabin for four days?”

  “When you put it that way, no.”

  The dock was an ancient and sturdy thing, broad weathered from the waves of the Northern Sea. It was sturdy enough for the cargo that Captain Benning's crew dragged off, but it led down to a town that consisted of nothing more than a handful of houses and some fishing boats in the harbor.

  Cobie had weathered their passage with ill-grace and having even the dock underneath him made the gelding toss his head with pleasure. He looked as if he were set to charge off the dock to find real dry land, and Nicholas kept a firm hand on his reins, whispering to him gently and easily.

  For some reason, the sight of Nicholas speaking so softly with the animal touched something deep inside Ava's heart. She could have told herself that it was because Nicholas was a soldier and of course knew that his horse was an essential part of his equipment, but she knew it was more than that.

  His heart is so very large. I am surprised it has not killed him yet.