“Lady…” He clenched his hands, his gaze roaming over her, his eyes dark. “This is no good idea.”
But he didn’t snatch up her robe and swirl it around her as she’d expected. That gave her hope, as did the unmistakable swelling at his groin.
He clearly desired her.
And her heart sang to see his longing.
“I’ve been alone some time,” she rushed on, the night air chilling her skin even as her cheeks burned. She swept back her hair, freeing her breasts. Molten awareness poured through her, pooling low in her belly, deep between her thighs. “You’ve been without the comfort of a woman for longer than I have missed a man’s caress,” she said, scarce hearing her voice for the thunder of her pulse. “No lover has ever kindled such heat in me.”
“I know what you’re offering.” His expression was fierce, his entire warrior’s body looking as if he’d been cast to stone. “We shouldnae do this. The price for such pleasure could be steep.”
“Then you’re not refusing me?” You are worth any cost. She stepped closer, her breasts brushing his chest. The heat of him warmed her through his plaid. “We would hurt no one…”
“Only ourselves.” His eyes glinted, his words hinting at pain that was a distant blur in the future.
“I do not care – for myself.” It was all she could do not to twine her arms around his neck, drawing him to her for kisses. Her fingers itched to tear the plaid from him. She wanted to run her hands over his bared skin, learning and memorizing each muscled plane, glorying in his sandalwood scent, his potent virility. “I only ask these last few hours. Then we shall be no more.”
“By all the bleeding gods!” He caught her to him, his mouth crashing down over hers in a deep, devouring kiss. He thrust one hand into her hair, gripping her nape as he kissed her hungrily. It was a bold, open-mouthed claiming that stole her breath and left her clinging to him. Her heart raced, the world around her beginning to tilt and spin as she clutched his powerful, plaid-draped shoulders, returning the kiss with all the passion she possessed.
He pulled her closer, releasing her hair and using his free hand to tear off his plaid. As quickly, he tossed it aside so that not even a sliver of air stood between their eager nakedness.
“Gare?” She drew back to look at him. “My bed of furs, shall we-”
“Aye!” He scooped her into his arms and carried her to her sleeping place where he laid her on the thick pelts, then knelt beside her. He trailed his fingers across her breasts, smoothed his hand down her side, along the curve of her hip. “I have ached for this, lady, even as I swore no’ to touch you.”
Mairi reached up to stroke his beard. “I am feeling more a wench than a lady.”
“You are my lady, and e’er shall be.” His gaze swept her, so heatedly that she almost felt the breath of flames everywhere he looked. When his gaze paused at the vee of her thighs and he skimmed his fingertips across the dark curls there, she melted.
The hot pulsing in that most intimate place was nigh unbearable, her desire so great she could scarce breathe.
She wouldn’t think about him calling her his lady.
She was wench enough to know men say many things in the throes of passion.
“All I want is this night.” And then a thousand more, again and again for all our days. She trailed her fingers across his chest, admiring his sculpted muscles, the scattering of dark hair that arrowed from his chest to his belly and lower. “I would give you ease to carry with you when you go.”
Moments I’ll wrap in every beat of my heart, to treasure forever.
“Sweet lass.” He stretched out beside her, reached to palm her breasts, plumping and caressing them. Cherishing her as if she were a great and precious prize. “You give me too much. But I am captivated and cannae resist,” he said, his voice gruff as he leaned in to rain kisses across the swells of her breasts, then swirl his tongue around one peak and then the other.
Mairi’s entire body warmed, tingly bliss spooling through her. Around them, light and shadow merged until nothing remained but a shimmer of silver that shielded them from the outside world as he closed his mouth over one tight nipple and drew hard, the intimacy almost pushing her over the edge.
“I didnae want this.” He lifted his head to look at her as he slid his hand from her breasts to her waist, stroking lower to slip his fingers between her legs. He caressed the soft, sensitive insides of her upper thighs, then the sleek, damp place that tingled so desperately.
“I cannae naesay you.” His fingers lit over her again and again, each touch bringing ribbons of pleasure.
The sensations were heady, making her rock her hips into his hand. She didn’t want him to stop. She let her knees fall wider apart, opening her to his bliss-spending fingers as he sought and circled the sweetest part of her, heightening her pleasure. Yet she still craved more, was sure she’d shatter if he lifted his hand from her.
“I can take no more.” She could hardly speak. “No man has ever touched me this way…”
“Nor will any ever again. You are mine, Mairi MacKenzie. I willnae let you go.” His voice was low, the words again claims she knew men made when pleasuring women.
They meant nothing.
Not for a supposed wonder healer who’d been raised on an onion farm.
Her heart pounded anyway.
And she let herself hope as she looked down to watch his fingers stroke her.
“You are beautiful, more dear than a King’s ransom.” He used one finger to rub the tiny seat of her greatest pleasure. “I could touch and kiss you all night, ravishing every inch of you.
“Especially this part.” He splayed his hand over her, cupping the whole of her.
Mairi shivered, her blood racing. “You may have anything you desire. I am yours, this night.” Don’t leave me on the morrow.
I can’t watch you go.
“I would have you, aye,” he vowed, his gaze on the place he was still gripping so firmly. “So sure as a man cannae hold back the tide.”
Then he was nudging her knees even wider and settled himself between her thighs, leaning down until his breath warmed her skin. He eased her legs over his shoulders, his gaze lifting to hers as he lowered his head and flicked his tongue over the delicate flesh where his fingers had plied such mastery. He circled and probed, then simply began licking her. Long, slow drags of his tongue across the whole of her, again and again, so that the sweetest, most intense pleasure speared through her. Beautiful sensations she’d never known and that she couldn’t bear to relinquish.
“Gare…” She lifted her hips, threaded her fingers in his hair as she rubbed against him, already feeling the crest of her release. “I can take no more.”
“You can, and shall.” He opened his mouth over her, drawing deeply, causing her hips to arch at the intimacy. “I willnae stop until we are both replete. You are nowhere near sated enough. We have hours before the sun rises.”
Mairi’s heart broke, the reminder of the morrow piercing her soul.
“Then take me now and let us love well.” She smoothed her hands over his head, cradled his face. “I would have you at least three times before the morn’s light.”
“No’ near enough.” He rolled on top of her and she felt the hard, thick length of him against her inner thigh, nudging her needy flesh, seeking entry.
He braced himself above her and lowered his head, slanting his mouth over hers and kissing her deeply as he eased inside her. Slowly at first, but then she wrapped her legs around him, drawing him deeper. She gripped his shoulders, urging him into a harder, faster rhythm that took her breath and made her heart pound.
She clung to him, the pleasure so intense, more exquisite than she would’ve believed. And all around them the strange and beautiful silvery light danced and shone, intensifying when he reached down between them to rub and circle her most sensitive spot until the sensations spiraled and broke. Her body quivered and then stilled, waves of completion washing over her.
&nbs
p; From somewhere, she thought she heard him call her name. She wasn’t sure, for the wind was rising again, its howl louder than ever.
But then he slowed and heaved a great, shuddering breath as he pulled out of her. He rolled onto his back, drawing her close against his side. She rested her head on his shoulder, slid one leg over his hip.
“Sweet lass.” He smoothed back her hair, kissed her brow. “I would ne’er hurt you.”
You already have – by leaving. “You have only brought me joy.” Mairi allowed herself the half-truth, not wanting to speak of the sorrow to come. “I did not know such pleasure existed. Not as with you.”
“You deserve so much more.” He pushed up on an elbow just as the door curtain moved and Troll entered the broch.
“He left us alone, didn’t he?” Mairi watched the dog walk without a limp to his food bowl, polishing his evening meal and then drinking deeply from his water.
Troll knew there was no more reason to feign ailments or achy bones.
He’d accepted defeat, sensed they were leaving.
“He’s a smart lad.” Gare took her hand, lacing their fingers. “He’ll be at the door when the first hint of gray lightens the sky.”
“And you?” She held her breath.
“I shall be there before him.” He gave her the answer she’d dreaded.
Mairi turned her face to the side and drew a long, tight breath. She needed to steel herself against the memories they’d just made.
How could she have believed they’d be enough?
Chapter Ten
Early the next morning, high in the most barren region of Kintail’s greatest peaks, Gare sent a prayer to the gods. He thanked them that he’d wakened with Mairi beside him. Whatever the day brought, he’d have the memory of her wrapped in arms, her warmth pressed to him, her silky black hair streaming across his chest.
She’d even rested her hand atop his heart, as if she knew it beat only for her.
Remembering, his chest tightened, so he pushed the images from his mind. What he needed to do was keep putting one foot before the other as they trudged across yet another bleak, wind-bitten ridge.
They’d set off early and the Glen of Winds was now far behind them as they made their way across the stony, mist-drenched heights of Kintail toward Duncan MacKenzie’s stronghold, the isle-girt castle, Eilean Creag.
Gare frowned, dreading what would happen there.
But Mairi’s safety and happiness were at stake. And he didn’t want her damned.
Above all, he didn’t want to lose her.
The need to keep her at his side was powerful, a driving force that could destroy them both.
He glanced over his shoulder at the way they’d come. His gaze couldn’t pierce the wall of mist swirling everywhere, but he felt Dunwynde behind him, its peat-hazed warmth and solace. How he wished they could’ve stayed there, hidden away in Mairi’s bed of furs. The haven where he’d learned how much he loved her, how fiercely he wanted to keep her.
“Are you sure this is the way?” She touched his arm, looking at him with worry in her great blue eyes. “I’m not concerned for myself,” she said, glancing at Troll. “But Troll will need a rest before we go much farther.”
“Then we’ll pause here for a bit.” Gare didn’t like how she’d set a hand on her hip, drawing in long, deep breaths of the chill autumn air.
She looked exhausted and that only heaped more worry and guilt on his shoulders.
Especially as he knew she hadn’t slept, a lacking that was his fault entirely – much as he couldn’t deny she’d been equally ravenous.
Mairi MacKenzie was insatiable.
She was incomparable. Wild, uninhibited, and more passionate than any woman he’d ever known.
Her heart…
He doubted the world’s great seas could contain her goodness, the deep compassion that beat inside her.
“It isnae much farther,” he said, pulling her to him, rubbing her back, hoping to soothe her weariness as best he could. “My regrets that we left so early, and in such miserable conditions.” He dropped a kiss on her brow, glanced again at the mist that had thickened since they’d reached the higher ground. “At least the rains have ceased.”
“How can you know we’re close?” She rested her head on his shoulder. “We can see nothing.”
“I know as any Highlander does.” He cupped her chin, leaning down to give her a soft, light kiss.
And he did know.
To the bone, he was aware of the great stony peaks soaring around them. He knew they were there because his love for the land let him feel their mighty presence. They just couldn’t be seen. Thick, impenetrable mist cloaked them completely, parting only now and then to allow glimpses of rock-clogged corries, steep gorges, patches of brown-and-red bracken, dead heather, and rushing burns.
This was the heart of the Highlands, Kintail the lifeblood of the region.
Then, before they could see more, the day turned dark and bleak again, the world vanishing beneath the rolling blanket of dense, gray fog.
Mairi rubbed her arms, drew her cloak tighter against the icy air. “I do not want to spend the night up here. Troll will catch a chill.”
“Troll will sleep before your laird’s hearth fire this night, his belly full, and his snores annoying everyone. Dinnae fash yourself, lassie.”
“Well, I do.”
“You needn’t. I can smell the sea wind.” He turned her in his arms, set his hands on her shoulders. “I spent too many years sailing to the gods knows where on the tourney circuit. Once you’ve steeped your lungs in salt air, you have a nose for it, always.”
“Troll isn’t so certain.” Mairi glanced at the dog. He’d dropped onto his haunches, looking miserable.
“He wasn’t with me in those days.” He stepped away from her to pull a small pouch from beneath his cloak, retrieving a twist of dried meat that he gave to Troll, clearly a bribe.
“He will be fine, as will you. Soon.” He tucked the treat pouch back inside his cloak. “Eilean Creag Castle is less than an hour’s walk, I promise.”
She nudged a clump of autumn-browned heather with her toe, clearly not convinced.
“You dinnae believe me.” Gare touched her cheek. “Look between thon drifts of mist, and then down the slope to the west. You will see the glimmer of torchlight and hearth fires.”
He turned her in the right direction. “The firelight is also shining on the water, turning it orange. Thon is your laird’s stronghold, with Loch Duich surrounding its walls.”
“Aye, I see the castle now. It is Eilean Creag.” She whipped around, strong emotion in her face. “Will you be leaving this day? For Burnett Tower in Inverness?”
Before he could answer, Troll leapt to his feet, barking.
At once, the air filled with the shouts of men. Someone blew a horn, once and then twice more. The sound echoed off the high crags as the misty wood came alive, the noise of approaching horsemen all around them. Iron-shod hooves rang on stone, joined by the crunch of gravel and the creak of saddle leather, the clink of mail and armor.
“Mercy!” Mairi gripped Gare’s arm. “Can Sorcha be returning so soon? With an army?”
“No’ if she doesnae want her gizzards pickled.” Gare pulled her behind him and drew Brude’s borrowed sword. Ever a champion, Troll positioned himself beside Mairi, ready to guard her. “Whoe’er comes is no’ from that hag. Even so, you take this ax and use it if you can.” He pulled Brude’s war ax from the strap across his shoulder, and thrust it into her hands. “The sight of it should deter a man – leastways long enough for Troll to tear out his throat, should anyone come at you.”
“If you are gone.” She spoke so softly he scarce heard her.
“Should that happen, aye.” He wouldn’t lie. “I’m hoping it willnae come to that. Like as no’ they are headed elsewhere and havenae seen us.”
Mairi didn’t look so sure.
In truth, he wasn’t either.
He drew he
r into his arms, holding her close. “Perhaps it is your Sir Marmaduke and his men?”
“Nae, it wouldn’t be.” She shook her head. “This is the fastest, most direct way into the Glen of Winds, but also the roughest. Traveling these passes would be too hard on my chief’s horses. He wouldn’t want the beasts so stressed or endangered.
“Sir Marmaduke and his men use a safer, more circuitous route.” She looked up, turning her blue gaze on him. “They’d never come this way.”
“Then Troll and I will keep you safe.” His voice roughened. “You know that now.” He rested his chin atop her head, tightened his arms around her. “You’ll spend this night in a fine chamber in your liege’s castle, a room with sumptuous accoutrements and all comfort, as befits you.
“That I promise.” He kissed her rose-scented hair, slid his knuckles down her cheek.
She shivered and pressed her face against his plaid, but she didn’t speak.
There wasn’t time.
The sounds were closer. Already, flashes of silver shone through the trees. Steel blades and mail, sure signs of a war party – then they were there, a group of horsemen emerging from the trees. Big, bearded men in gleaming hauberks and draped in plaid, they were hung with weapons and rode under a stag’s head banner.
MacKenzies.
And from their hard, grim-set faces, the reason for their journey wasn’t good.
Indeed, they looked murderous.
~ * ~
“My chief!” Mairi glanced at Gare, saw an indefinable emotion flash across his face. “He’s the big, dark-haired man in front, the one with two swords at his waist. Next to him is his captain of the guards, Sir Marmaduke Strongbow. He’s Duncan’s good-brother by marriage and a Sassenach. You can’t miss him – his face is scarred.”
“Then they’ll have reason to travel so heavily armed.” Gare rammed his borrowed blade into the ground, waiting. “I dinnae think they expected to meet us here.”
“Maybe they heard of Sorcha’s attack?” Mairi could think of nothing else.
Still in his prime, Duncan’s handsome face was fierce, his gaze piercing. He’d donned his famed black mail and looked more fearsome than she’d ever seen him, while the heavy gold torque at his neck and his many gold-and-silver arm rings gave him the appearance of a Celtic lord of warriors.
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