Highlander's Magical Love
A Cree & Dawn Novella
Donna Fletcher
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Also by Donna Fletcher
About the Author
Highlander’s Magical Love
All rights reserved.
Copyright August 2018 by Donna Fletcher
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No part of this publication may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including but not limited to being stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without permission of the author.
This is a book of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Cover Art
The Killion Group
Prologue
Late 12th century Scotland
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Old Mary grabbed Dawn’s arm. “You cannot go out tonight or you will chance being taken by the sluagh or...” The old woman shook her head. “Cree will see to lighting the towering fires. You stay safe inside until the day changes to the next.”
Dawn understood Old Mary’s concern. It was Samhain, the harvest festival that celebrated the final harvest and the approaching winter. It was also the night the boundaries between the living and the dead thinned, allowing the spirits of the dead to walk the earth once again. One dared not venture outside tonight or risked being taken by the sluagh, restless spirits. It was the reason the men and women donned grotesque masks. They were meant to frighten the restless spirits away.
Dawn pointed to the cold hearth, Old Mary understanding her gesture. It had not been easy having been born without a voice, not able to utter a sound, but Old Mary had known her long enough to understand her hand gestures.
“Aye, I know you want to relight the hearth fire with the flames from the towering fires as the others in the villagers will do, forging a stronger clan—family—bond for the coming year, but you cannot chance going outside. Cree can see to the ritual task. Or Flanna can do it. She oversees all in the keep anyway.”
Dawn grinned and gestured spooning food into her mouth, widening her eyes as if in surprise, then pulling something from her mouth and slipping the object on her finger.
“Of course Flanna is busy eating fuarag, hoping she will find the ring and not the coin or pebble in the porridge and cream. Then she will wed this year instead of having riches the coin would bring or never marrying, the curse of the pebble.” Old Mary dismissed the Samhain custom with a wave of her hand. “She will find the ring since Turbett is the one who prepared the fuarage and he put nothing but the ring in the bowl he gave her.”
Dawn laughed, though silent as it was, the joy on her face brought a smile to Old Mary’s face.
Dawn gestured again, tapping her temple, then pointing to Old Mary, and giving a shrug.
“You want to know what troubles me,” the old woman said.
Dawn nodded. She and the old woman had enjoyed many Samhain celebrations together and never had Dawn seen her as anxious and fearful as this one.
Old Mary took Dawn’s arm and walked over to one of the many tables in the Great Hall to sit on one of the benches, her old bones aching more than usual today.
“There are many beliefs surrounding Samhain, some true, some nonsense, then there are the ones that are rarely mentioned and for a good reason. They are better left alone.”
Dawn frowned and shrugged again, her gesture asking what she meant.
“Samhain not only wakes the spirits and thins the veil between the two worlds, it is also a time that Fate likes to intervene, test those she thinks worthy. And she sometimes leaves heartache in her wake. Do not leave yourself or Cree vulnerable to her. Take no chances tonight, for you do not know what it may bring.”
Gooseflesh ran over Dawn and she jumped up from the bench, her hands flying in another gesture, pointing to her face, raising her hand high to signify someone taller than her, and shaking her head.
“Cree wears no mask this night?”
Dawn nodded frantically.
“Of course he wears none. He believes even the dead fear him.” Old Mary shook her head and muttered, “Perhaps they do.”
Dawn hurried over to the table, a few masks scattered across it. The women had been busy making them this last month for all to use. She grabbed two.
“Keep it on while outside. Do not show your face,” Old Mary warned.
Dawn nodded and rushed off while hurrying the mask to her face and tying the strips of cloth attached to the sides behind her head. She stood outside on the steps of the keep, looking over the village, searching for her husband.
Three fires spit flames high into the night sky, almost touching the heavens. They were kept to the outskirts of the village so the cottages and buildings would not be caught by the flames. Older children, all in masks, danced around them and men, their farm animals in tow, weaved around the fires, a ritual meant to cleanse them for the coming year.
With the dark of night and the fires’ flames casting strange shadows over the village, making the villagers appear as distorted as the grotesque masks they wore, it was difficult to recognize anyone.
Dawn hesitated, reluctant for some reason to join the festivities.
She spotted Cree then, a head, or more, taller than all the others and the only one not wearing a mask. The sight of him stole her breath. The fire’s light danced across his face, the only handsome face amongst the hideous masks. His long brown hair, liberally streaked with honey gold strands, fell to just above his shoulders, having kept it cut shorter of late. Her heart quickened at the size and breadth of him, stirring her passion as it always did. His muscled arms strained against his white shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and his plaid hugged his narrow waist nicely. Though there was a brisk chill to the air, Cree wore no cloak. He was a renowned, mighty Highland warrior who most feared and all were in awe of, and he was her husband, father to their two-year-old twins, Valan and Lizbeth.
Earlier, before night had fallen, she and Cree had walked with the twins through the village, the villagers offering the bairns treats. As always Lizabeth approached people without fear while Valan, much like his da, approached people with a commanding stride, and his young eyes kept watch over his sister, scurrying to her side if someone approached her too quickly.
It had been a lovely time with Cree and the twins and when it was done, they had tucked the twins into bed, the night ahead theirs alone.
Cree’s arm went out as soon as he got close to her, scooping her up against him and whispering in her ear, “I burn for you as hot as the Samhain fires burn.”
Dawn shivered, her body responding, growing wet and eager for him as always. She loved her husband from the depths of her soul and always would, and she would see him kept safe even if he was too stubborn to do it himself.
She shoved the mask at his face.
“I will not wear that. The dead would not dare come near me,” he said, knocking the mask out of Dawn’s hand and lifting her so that her feet hovered just above the ground as he walked rapidly to the shadows at the side of the keep, away from curious eyes.
A chill ran through her body when he braced her back ag
ainst the cold stone wall of the keep.
“I will not have your beauty covered,” he said, tearing off her mask and tossing it aside. “No spirit would dare take you from me.”
A sudden flash of lightning and crack of thunder sounded so loud, that it had Cree throwing himself around his wife to shield her.
A shiver of dread ran through her. Perhaps a spirit would not take her from him, but what of Fate?
Cree kept his body pressed against hers, having been hungry for her since tucking the twins in bed. He could never get enough of her. There was something about coupling with his wife that brought them closer, joined them as one, sealed their love over and over.
He lowered his mouth to hers in a kiss that demanded, though more ached at his insides, eager for more, always more. He pressed his hips against hers, fitting his swollen manhood between her legs, eager to hoist her garment up and slip into her.
Dawn tore her mouth away from his and tapped against the stone wall of the keep.
“I cannot wait to take you inside. I want you now.” Cree all but growled at her and nuzzled her soft neck with bites and kisses.
She was all too familiar with that starving need of his, feeling it herself more often than not, but tonight was different. Tonight was Samhain and she feared leaving them exposed to the spirits… to Fate.
She shook her head, trying to dislodge his lips at her neck, his teasing bites soaring her passion, and tapped the wall again.
“I will have you here and then again in our bed,” Cree insisted.
Dawn did something she never did before, but felt she had no choice to do. She gave his chest a strong shove and slipped away from him and before he could reach out and stop her, she ran for the keep’s doors.
Cree was so shocked that she ran from him that he stood staring after her for a moment. Then he hurried after her, half annoyed that she would deny him and half intrigued that she would, growing his passion for her even more.
He caught up with her just after entering the keep and scooped her up in his arms. Her smile and the way she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face there, her teeth playfully nipping along his flesh, told him that she got him just where she wanted him, and he had to smile himself.
“I warned you,” Old Mary called out. "Infinite love is rare. Few, if any, find it and fate enjoys testing it." She turned to walk away, shaking her head.
They both heard her mumbling that she was too old for this, her bones aching too much for such a journey.
“What is she talking about?’ Cree asked, brushing a kiss across his wife’s cheek.
Dawn wondered herself, worried at the tremble of fear that shot through her.
“You are cold. I will warm you,” Cree said and hurried through the Great Hall and up the stairs to their bedchamber.
The tremble subsided, but the fear remained. Recently, she had been separated from Cree through no fault of her own and it had been an horrendous time for her. She did not want to be without Cree again. That thought had her kissing his lips as if she never intended to stop and her hand struggled to find its way beneath his plaid to take hold of his manhood.
“If you do not stop, I will come here and now,” Cree said more harshly than he intended.
It did not matter to Dawn. She needed to taste him, feel him, hold on to him, and know she would not lose him, not now, not ever.
Once in their bedchamber, Cree said, “I cannot wait.”
Dawn felt the same and when he dropped her on the bed, she hoisted her garments and spread her legs.
Cree lifted his plaid and sunk down over and into her in one swift motion, her generous wetness making it easy for him. He rode her hard and fast, enjoying the potent pleasure building with every pounding thrust. And he could see it was the same for her. He did not know what had driven them to such an intense desire, he only knew he had to satisfy both of them and that this one time tonight would not be sufficient.
He buried his face in her neck, kissing, nipping, and leaving his mark there for all to see that Dawn belonged to him.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and took him inside her as deep as she could, wanting more and more of him, wanting to keep him locked inside her until… forever.
It was a furious, demanding mating, almost as though it was their last time together and they wanted to capture every moment with a depth of intensity that they would never forget.
They exploded together. Dawn gripped his arm tightly as her climax sent her into a tailspin of pleasure that went on and on and on, and Cree groaned as the world spiraled around him in bursts of never-ending pleasure.
He collapsed on top of her and she threw her arms around him, never wanting to let him go, needing him there with her, inside her, loving her.
Finally, when sanity returned to them, Cree rolled off her, taking her in his arms to rest against him as he settled on his back.
“That was just the beginning, wife. I will have you more than once tonight.”
Dawn grinned, nodded, and yawned. Samhain would be over soon and all was good. They were safe.
Chapter 1
Present day Highlands, Scotland
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“He’s here! He’s here!”
All the servers of Elite Catering, male and female, ran to the closest windows to the front of the castle in the dining room to get a look.
Dawn got swept along with them since her best friend, Lila, grabbed her arm and all but dragged her to the window. She shook her head, but went with Lila, unable to ignore her own curiosity.
“A servant is opening the door,” a female server said, her face practically smashed against the window.
Dawn’s eyes followed all the others and watched as Lord Cree stepped out of the Bentley. Her breath caught along with the others in the ballroom. She had seen pictures of him in the tabloids at various functions and with various women, but those pictures didn’t do him justice. The talented hand of an artist was needed to define his truly handsome features and capture the unique coloring of his hair that was the envy of men and women everywhere. It was a light brown with natural streaks of blond shooting through it and he kept it shoulder length and pulled back more often than not, though not today.
He raked his hand through his hair just after emerging from the car and it fell in a touch of natural waves that any woman would love to have, though more than likely they would prefer to run their fingers through his. It reminded Dawn of how plain her own auburn hair was and straight, not a curl or wave to it. She kept it long and in a single braid, though tonight it was pinned up in a bun, a requirement when working as a server for Elite Catering.
“He is one fine looking man,” Lila whispered to Dawn. “Tall, with a body that makes a woman salivate and more money than he knows what to do with.”
“What are you doing?”
The sharp shout had everyone turning away from the windows to face the woman in charge for the night—Flanna.
“Get back to work. Colum Liege will be arriving soon.”
That had everyone rushing off to do their jobs.
Dawn had worked several Elite Catering events, though it wasn’t Elite she worked for. It was a party staff company, Event & Hospitality Servers, that provided waiting staff to various catering businesses and private parties. With as many events as she had worked, she understood the pressure Flanna was under. The thin, plain woman with bright red hair, cut short and spikey, had a new boss these past six months, a nasty one, and was the reason everyone had rushed off to attend to their work. The word had spread so fast about the man that no one wanted to work Elite Catering parties. The only reason the party staff company had no trouble providing servers for this affair was because it was the annual All Hallows Eve Fundraiser at Carrick Castle.
The annual event benefitted special needs children and adults and it was an event that no one of any importance in the business world wanted to miss, not to mention the eligible young women who wanted a chance to meet the very eligible a
nd handsome Lord Cree.
Dawn went to join the others, stepping away from the window, but turned and gave one last look at who most women would believe was their ultimate dream man.
He turned his head as her glance settled on him and their eyes connected and held. Dawn wrapped her arms around herself and held them tight, unable to look away. There was something there in the depths of his dark eyes that she couldn’t quite define and it sent a shiver through her.
“Dawn!”
The sharp shout had Dawn turning her head quickly to face Flanna.
“Colum asked if you’d be working tonight. I told him I wasn’t sure since there were some last minute staff changes. Make sure he doesn’t get you alone anywhere. I’ve registered several complaints against him with the company, as have party staffers. He’s being called before the big boss on Monday and I don’t believe he’ll be around after that. You have a disadvantage if he gets you alone, so be careful.”
Dawn nodded and smiled her appreciation.
“I’ll keep watch over her,” Lila said, joining them to hand Dawn a long white bib apron.
“Me too,” Dorrie said, handing Dawn what looked like half a paper doily with two bobby pins, then pinned the other one she held to the front of her blonde bun at the top of her head.
Flanna shook her head. “There’s enough going on tonight without having the staff wear period servant costumes.”
“I think the ankle length black skirt, long sleeve blouse, high-heel, laced up boots, and the long white bib apron makes for one sexy outfit,” Dorrie said, running her hand along her slim waist and rounded hip.
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