Reckless Scotland

by Vane, Victoria

  Unwilling to ruin the pleasant eve, she beseeched a reprieve. “Please…can we speak on the morrow?”

  Even in the dim light, she noticed the softening of his features.

  “On the morrow, then.” He quirked a playful brow. “But, you owe me.”

  Grateful for his understanding, she smiled. “What is your price, then?”

  His lips twisted to one side as he considered. “A dance should suffice.”

  “What?” Nora raised her head in surprise. “Here? Now?”

  His rich laughter wrapped around her senses. Of its own volition, her body leaned closer to him.

  “Come now, lass. Indulge me.”

  His boyish grin, coupled with the stray lock of blond hair falling over his brow, affected the cadence of her heart. “Do I not always indulge you?”

  Liam closed the distance between them, placing a chaste kiss on her cool cheek. With a grunt and a slight bit of effort, he pushed to his feet and extended his hand to her. Cast in shadows, his smiling features shone through the darkness.

  “Please, my lady, would you do me the honor?”

  Without a speck of hesitation, she placed her hand in his. ’Twas becoming a habit, this inability to deny him.

  He tugged her to her feet and hauled her close. The heat of his body seeped through her gown, warming her skin.

  A fast-paced, melodious tune drifted up from the pasture below. Men and women danced a reel, twirling to and fro in their partners’ arms. Their lively cheers carried on the breeze.

  The band of his arm spanned her waist, and he grasped one of her hands, lifting their twined fingers in the air. In no particular rush to move, they stood toe to toe, gazing into each other’s eyes. Riveted by his charming smile, she reminded herself to blink.

  Everything about the man captured her notice. From the disarming blue of his eyes and the flawless perfection of his golden features to his witty banter and kind heart, he was a striking man, through and through. He had the ability to make her feel dozens of sensations all at once, from exasperation to exhilaration. ’Twas almost too easy to forget her unsettling past and uncertain future and immerse herself in his warmth.

  What she felt for him—this inexplicable attraction—was slow growing and steady, but pure and all-encompassing. She loved him more than she cared to admit.

  Aside from the rise and fall of their chests, they stood as still as statues.

  “What’s amiss, my sweet lass?” His warm breath fanned over her cheek.

  “Hmm?”

  “You’re frowning.”

  Was she? Truly, she had not realized.

  “’Tis my usual countenance, according to you.” She forced a grin for his benefit.

  In the dim light, he searched her gaze, his smile slipping. Within a hairsbreadth of her mouth, he murmured, “Truly, I love you for it.”

  The words sent a jolt through her frame, pushing the air from her constricted lungs. He loved her? Her heart gave a painful thump and a lump suddenly lodged in her throat.

  His arm tightened around her midsection. “Why should that surprise you? Did you not already guess?”

  Mayhap, only on a foolish whim for one flicker of a moment. ’Twas hard to imagine a man such as Liam MacGregor might love her.

  “’Tis true, Nora.” His lips brushed hers. “I’ve fallen in love with you.”

  Her eyes closed as a sweep of elation rushed through her. Her head floated and her knees wobbled. Happiness swelled in her chest, the burst of emotion overwhelming her. She opened her eyes to his tender gaze watching her.

  “Kiss me?” she whispered.

  His mouth moved closer, grazing her jaw. “You never have to ask.”

  Liam captured her lips in a searing kiss she felt down to the tips of her toes. She melted against him, placing her palms over his firm chest. Slow and languid, he deepened their kiss as he guided her backward with slow paces, until her back rested against the base of an oak tree.

  The leisurely strokes of their twining tongues grew hurried and unrestrained. Fervor swept through every pore of Nora’s being, inflaming the coiling twinge below her belly. Her hands lifted to his hair, gripping strands between her fingers, unwilling to lose the intoxicating flavor of him.

  His questing hands moved over her gown, heating the skin beneath. Her body hummed from within, the ache in the pit of her stomach mounting deep inside her. Unable to stop herself, she moved against his solid frame, seeking something more. With an arm at the small of her back, he pulled her lower half forward, urging their hips together. The unmistakable hardness of his manhood pressed into her thigh through her gown.

  Ripping his mouth from hers, he trailed kisses along her jaw to the column of her throat. “Do you feel my need for you?”

  His harsh whisper grated in her ears. The rise and fall of his chest brushed over the sensitive tips of her breasts, shielded by the fabric of her gown. Despite the chill in the air, sweat formed on her brow from the fire burning inside her.

  He nibbled on her ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth. A hiss slid from her lips. Her hips moved of their own accord, her body responding to his touch. His hands moved over the woolen material of her gown until he reached the lacings. Making quick work of the ties, he slipped the fabric from her shoulder, baring her breast to his view. A shiver ran though her frame that had naught to do with the cool night air.

  His gaze roamed over her flesh, while the back of his finger grazed over the hardened pink tip, eliciting a low moan from her.

  “’Tis beautiful.” He leaned forward, his lips brushing hers. “You’re beautiful.”

  The rasp of his voice prickled gooseflesh over her arms. He ducked his head to her chest and his mouth closed over the taut peak. His tongue laved at her sensitive flesh, pulling a strangled moan from her throat.

  Nora sucked in deep pulls of air and struggled to focus on the bright moon in the night’s sky overhead. Her own labored breaths filled her ears, drowning out the sounds of the feast in the valley below. Lost in a passion-induced fog, everything around her ceased to exist except the man in her arms.

  Lifting his mouth to hers, he seized her lips with a hungry kiss. With his thigh wedged between hers, he urged her to move against him. A simple shift of her hips and she expelled a harsh breath. Despite the barrier of their clothing, his thigh rubbed over her center. Her head dropped back against the tree with a thunk, and she scarcely noticed the slight sting from the bark.

  Saints, what was the man doing to her?

  Swamped with desire, she moved against him, engulfed in the coil of tension building in her midsection. She panted to catch her breath as his lips drifted over her skin. His hand drifted lower to lift the hem of her gown to her hips, slipping in between the heat of her thighs.

  When Liam’s fingers caressed her sensitive core, she emitted a sharp cry he captured with his mouth. He released her lips, trailing his mouth over her skin. His nose brushed her flushed cheek.

  “Trust me, my sweet lass. I shall never let you fall.”

  His fingertips stoked at her core, drawing her higher toward an unknown summit she scarcely understood. Her hips moved back and forth, seeking his steady strokes. One finger moved over her entrance, tracing her most intimate spot, before he eased a finger inside. His thumb continued to brush over the swollen bud, leaving her gasping for air.

  “Breathe, Nora.” His lips moved over her cheek to her mouth.

  Consumed by his touch, every worry in her crowded mind slipped away. She focused solely on the mounting tension below her belly, surrendering to the building sensation. Passion ignited her aflame until the pressure broke free, sending her over an invisible precipice toward release. A keening cry tumbled from her swollen lips.

  Liam eased his hand from between her legs, righting her skirts. He turned her in his arms until his back leaned against the base of the tree. She melted against his strong frame while her chest rose and fell against his. More than a bit self-conscious, she buried her forehead again
st the warm skin of his neck, trying to digest what had occurred between them.

  With a finger beneath her chin, he tipped her head up to meet his gaze. “I’ve never seen a more comely sight, seeing you come apart in my arms.”

  Staring into his sparkling eyes, she actually felt beautiful for a change.

  A playful grin curved his lips. “So…how was it?”

  She almost laughed at the silly question. The man jested at the most ill-timed moments. Spurred by his witty query, she could not help but tease the self-assured smile from his face.

  She lifted a shoulder with a half-shrug. “’Twas tolerable, I suppose.”

  If anything, his grin stretched wider. He swatted her backside before hauling her flush against his chest. “Ah, lass, what am I to do with you?”

  For a long while, she merely savored the warmth of his embrace, his strong arms around her. The steady beat of his heart thumped beneath her palm. She wished this single, enchanting moment could span a lifetime.

  The smile eased from his lips. The earnestness in his deep blue eyes gave her pause.

  “Nora…” Liam swallowed hard. “Marry me?”

  The earth could’ve shifted and split apart at her feet and Nora would’ve been less astonished. Saints alive, was he serious?

  Hundreds of thoughts flooded her mind, scattering her good sense to the wind. Her mouth flapped open, the words absent from her tongue.

  His palms framed her face. “You do not have to give me an answer now. But promise me, you’ll consider it.”

  Relieved he’d offered yet another reprieve, she nodded and leaned her cheek to rest on his shoulder while his question circled in her mind. How could she marry the man she loved when he knew naught of her past?

  Mayhap, ’twas selfish of her but for now—just this once—she intended to bask in the comfort of his arms. The morrow would come soon enough, and she’d have to explain how her uncle plotted to murder him and his father and the fact that she was not a Fraser at all.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Liam stood on the edge of the training grounds with his cousin, observing Fraser and MacGregor warriors alike practicing their skills. Midmorning sun glinted off the sharp edges of striking weaponry, while clangs of steel, coupled with male grunts and the shifting of dirt at the men’s heels, bustled through the expansive meadow.

  Bowmen lined the far end of the pasture, their arrows aimed for straw targets near the tree line of the forest. To one side, mounted warriors steered their horses through a gamut of obstacles Fraser designed many years before. From wooden targets and barriers to rotating sacks of grain hoisted by windlasses, the track tested the men’s reactions and endurance.

  Liam remembered the course well from his youth when he and Calum received their training under Fraser. However, what he recalled more than anything was the blasted man’s punishments. Too often, he and his cousin ended up on the wretched end of a loaded grain wagon, forced to haul the damned cart back and forth over the grounds as penance for their mischievous deeds. Though, several of the jests he and his cousin played on Fraser had been well worth the price.

  Calum bumped Liam’s arm, tipping his head toward the other end of the field. Beyond the men sparring in the middle of the grounds, he caught sight of Fraser making his way across the clearing. Not far behind, Kenneth and John followed.

  “About time,” Liam muttered.

  He’d spoken with Fraser earlier that morn, suggesting the old laird might join him and Calum in the fields to take in a bit of fresh air. Of course, Liam had something else in mind altogether.

  “Are you sure you’re up for this?” his cousin asked with a degree of apprehension. “What of your injuries?”

  “A slight twinge. Naught more.” He shrugged off his cousin’s concern. He refused to allow a minor ache to halt his plans for the commander. “Trust me, I’ve been waiting for this moment since the damned dungeons.”

  As Fraser sauntered closer, his harsh countenance eased into a confident grin. “’Tis a fine day to be out of doors.” He motioned to the sword at Liam’s side. “You lads getting in a bit of training?”

  Liam snorted at the reference. No matter their ages, he was certain Fraser might always refer to him and his cousin as lads. Though he knew the answer, he asked out of courtesy. “Aye, care to join us for a round?”

  “Nay, I’m content to merely watch this morn.” Fraser grasped his arms behind his back, rocking on his heels, as he looked on at the dozens of men scattered over the field involved in one activity or another.

  “Good to see you hale and hearty after our last meeting, my lord,” John remarked.

  Liam tapped a finger to his temple. “’Tis truth, I’m not certain how much more my head can take.”

  Calum barked out a laugh. “If you’re worried about your good sense, then do not concern yourself. You lost that long ago.”

  His cousin’s ridiculous statement drew a round of laughter from each of them. Except Kenneth.

  Liam shifted to face the commander, who tried his best to feign indifference. The taut stance of his sizeable frame and clenched, square jaw boasted of his derision.

  For the most part, Liam considered himself an even-tempered, affable sort of fellow. He’d no reason to purposefully dislike anyone. Unless, of course, the person gave good cause. From the poisoning to tampering with his prized gelding, Kenneth had far surpassed the level of his tolerance. The man’s guilt was evident to Liam from the very start.

  With two failed attempts on his and Fraser’s lives and Symon away trailing after Beatrice, Liam could no longer afford for Kenneth to freely roam about the holding. Saints only knew what the devious arse might endeavor next. ’Twas a risk he was unwilling to take. Not to mention, Fraser needed to see what his commander was truly capable of for himself.

  “Eh, Kenneth, ’tis been a while since you and I have sparred. What say you to a round?”

  The brawny soldier craned his neck to peer at Liam. His narrowed gaze glittered with a self-assured gleam. The confidence in his abilities to best Liam shone through with a quirk of his lips.

  Crossing his muscular arms over his broad chest, he sneered. “Are you sure you can handle the task, MacGregor?”

  A few inches shorter and a sight leaner than the other man, Liam eyed the commander. “I’ve never been more certain of anything.”

  God willing, a lick of cunning and a wealth of agility would be enough to carry him through. After years of sparring with Calum, he’d learned to use his nimbleness to his advantage against larger opponents.

  Kenneth nodded, his smile widening. “If you’re sure you can manage…”

  The commander’s doubt hung in the charged air between them, kindling Liam’s determination to see the task through and expose the commander for his foul deeds. He cut his cousin a quick look the man had no trouble interpreting.

  Slipping his longsword from the scabbard at this side, he stepped out onto the field, slashing his blade from side to side to loosen the tension in his shoulder. Stalling, he made a show of stretching and readying himself which, in turn, irritated Kenneth.

  As planned, Calum called out, “Have you and Fraser spoken of what we discussed last eve?”

  Liam lowered his sword at his side, presenting a casual, lax posture. Though, he felt anything but relaxed. His body hummed with the awareness his enemy stood only a few short yards away, intent to run him through given the opportunity. He merely needed to goad the man into action which should pose no trouble.

  “Nay. What is it?” His curiosity sparked, Fraser glanced between him and Calum.

  Gripping the pommel of his sword with a steely grip, Liam shifted to face the older man in a deliberate measure, leaving his flank exposed to attack.

  “’Tis truth, I’ve given your announcement much thought as of late. This past fortnight, working with the Frasers, has opened my eyes in a fashion.” Balancing on the balls of his feet, he braced his feet in a rigid stance. “Are your feelings the same as they wer
e the eve of the wedding?”

  Fraser’s mouth dropped open, surprise lighting his green eyes. “Of course they are. I’m not given to changing my mind, lad. You should know I meant every word. I’ve devoted my entire life to my clan, and I do not regret it for one instant. But, I’ve lost too many precious years with your mother, and I’ve no intention of missing any more.” Fraser stood taller, puffing out his barrel chest. “In truth, naught would please me more than to see my own son lead in my stead. That is, if you’re willing.”

  For now, the ruse would have to do. Later, he would explain to the older man. “I shall gladly accept.”

  The arrow hit its intended mark.

  Liam caught the faint hiss of steel followed by a whoosh of air. Twisting his upper body, he raised his sword in the nick of time to parry Kenneth’s powerful blow. The jarring force sent a pang through his lower back.

  “What the devil?” Fraser bellowed, undoubtedly astonished by his commander’s reaction.

  Bearing his weight against the weapon, Liam shoved Kenneth backward a few paces. He tossed a quick glimpse at Fraser, relieved to see his cousin and John moved ahead of the older man, effectively blocking him from the reach of Kenneth’s sword.

  Though he’d gone over his plan with Calum and John the eve before, during the light of day, his scheme to entrap the commander might prove a bit more difficult. Especially with the throbbing twinge in his back.

  Brandishing his sword in front of him, he met Kenneth’s glare. “Why should the decision displease you?”

  “Because you deserve naught,” the commander spat out before he launched his attack.

  Kenneth charged forward, delivering heavy blow after heavy blow. Deflecting each strike, Liam struggled to sustain his footing against the onslaught. He jerked aside to avoid a slash of the blade. Disregarding his cousin and Fraser’s shouts and the growing crowd of gawking soldiers on the field, Liam focused solely on the task at hand. He held his defense, allowing the other man to tire himself.