Lost in the Highlands, Volume Two

by Lorraine Beaumont

  Hiccupping, she swayed in the other direction. “Maaaybeee.”

  Struggling with the keycard, she finally unlocked the door. Pushing through the opening into the room, she propelled herself to the bed. Falling face first on top of the mattress, she closed her eyes and promptly passed out.

  ♦

  Gavin shut the door to the hotel room and locked it. Setting their bags on the floor he went to check on his lass. She was lying face down on the bed and she was making some strange noises. He pulled off her shoes and covered her up with a blanket from the bottom of the bed.

  He watched her for a moment as she slept. Och, he thought, he was surely going ta miss her when he went back ta his time. And even though he didn’t say as much out loud, he cared for her deeply, mayhap he even loved her more so than he did Jillian but he was afraid to admit such a thing ta her or ta himself. It wouldn’t be fair ta the lass, or the memory he had tucked away inside his heart of Jillian.

  Rubbing his chest over his aforementioned heart, he turned away from her and walked across the room. Sitting down heavily into one of the high-backed cushioned chairs, he leaned his head back and propped his feet on the stool in front of him. Closing his eyes, he let his memories take hold once more…

  MEMORY

  Greystone Castle, Loch Morar

  “Let go of me! You, you, heathen,” the crystal-eyed redhead screamed.

  “Och, Laird…” Callum looked over at Gavin with something akin to horror as he struggled to keep hold of the wild woman in his arms. “She will no settle down.”

  “Take her ta my chambers and lock her inside.”

  “By myself?” Callum’s eyes widened.

  “Do ye see someone else, Callum?”

  “Can ye get Muir ta help, she’s…OW!” Callum bent over, trying to catch his breath and hold onto the young woman at the same time. “Ye kicked me.”

  “If you don’t let me go, I will do more than that.”

  Callum gave Gavin a pleading look. “She is full of spit and vinegar, this one."

  “Aye, I can see that she is, Callum,” Gavin said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Best get her up the stairs before she makes good on her threat, aye?”

  Callum grumbled something under his breath as he wrapped his arms around her waist as tight as he could and lifted her in the air. Her feet thrashed back and forth, connecting with his shin. “Och, stop kicking me.”

  “Let me go!”

  “I can no do that.” He hoisted her up and part dragged, part carried her up the stairs.

  “I don’t envy ye trying ta tame that one, my Laird,” Morgan commented offhandedly.

  “Let me take her up the stairs, my Laird,” Broderick suggested. “I will tame her.”

  Gavin cut his eyes towards Broderick. Even though he was several feet away he could see a fever burning in his dark eyes and how his breath came and went in rushed pants as he watched Callum carry the lass up the stairs.

  “Nay, Broderick. I thank ye for the offer but Callum is doing a fine job.” There was no way Gavin would let Broderick in the room with the lass because there was no telling what he might do. He had seen how Broderick behaved with one women folk at the tavern and it still made his stomach turn when he thought of the vile things he did ta the poor lass.

  Broderick tensed and fisted his hands at his sides. “O’ course my Laird,” he scathed the last. “If ye change yer mind, I will tend ta her and see that she gets in line for ye.” And with that, he turned and stormed out of the hall.

  “If ye want ta keep the lass in one piece, ye better keep a close eye on her with the likes of Broderick around,” Morgan commented.

  “Aye, I know,” Gavin admitted. “Why do ye think I had Callum put her in my chambers.”

  “I’ll admit, I don’t envy ye that task, Laird,” Morgan continued as Callum howled out an expletive from above.

  “I tend ta agree with ye, Morgan. I don’t much care ta want ta deal with the lass, myself.”

  Morgan chuckled as he turned and walked away.

  Gavin stood there for a few more minutes listening to Callum howl and the lass scream. It made gooseflesh rise on his skin. Nay, Gavin wasn’t looking forward ta dealing with that wild lass. Not one bit.

  ♦

  It took several attempts over the span of three days ta get the lass ta settle down enough to even have a conversation with her or to be able to enter his room without having something thrown at his head. When she did finally let him in his room again she was still a mite put out and said as much ta him.

  “Why won’t you let me go?” She was weak with hunger, he could see that.

  “I can no let ye go.”

  “I don’t understand, why not.” She paced the room and then sat on the trunk at the end of his bed.

  When she looked at him with those light blue crystal eyes of hers, his belly flipped over on itself. She was the most beautiful lass he had ever laid eyes on. Her voice was raspy, sexy, and her dark lashes were in striking contrast to the paleness of her skin and accentuated her eyes beautifully.

  “What is yer name, lass?” He asked, leaning back against the rough wooden door. He didn’t dare come any closer because she had a habit of pulling something from under her gown and trying ta bludgeon him in his head if he came too close.

  “What difference does it make?” she yelled, fisting her hand on her skirt. “You won’t let me go.”

  She was even lovelier when she was angry, Gavin thought ruefully. “I thought we could have a bit o’ conversation.”

  “What for?”

  He shrugged his shoulders.

  She sighed and released something that she was holding in the folds of her gown.

  To Gavin’s surprise, one of his dirks clattered to the ground at her feet. He had no idea how she had gotten hold of it.

  “Oh, just take it,” she said, masking her face with a look of innocence.

  Gavin was tempted to reach down and pick it up but he didn’t trust her. He had a feeling if he stepped forward to retrieve his dirk she would have something else to beat him with before he stood back up. “Makes no never mind ta me, lass.”

  Her eyes showed her surprise and then she smiled. When she did, he thought his heart might just stop.

  “You don’t trust me, do you?” She settled back on the trunk and lifted her feet up off the floor, tucking them under her gown.

  “Trust is a strong word, lass. I don’t give it out freely, ye would have ta earn it.”

  She seemed to ponder this and then smiled again. “You aren’t like the other men,” she commented.

  “Nay lass, I do no suppose that I am.”

  “But you are the Laird, here, correct?”

  “Aye. That I am,” he admitted, feeling a swell of pride that she called him such.

  “My name is Jillian,” she said finally.

  “Jillian,” he repeated, liking the way her name felt on his tongue as he said it.

  “What shall I endeavor to call you, other than Laird, of course?”

  “Ye may call me, Laird.”

  She laughed then.

  Not a simple little laugh, but a full robust one, that made her face turn red and her body shake.

  Gavin wasn’t sure what was so funny but for some reason he found humor in her laughter as well, and to his surprise, he started laughing right along with her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  HIGHLAND GAMES, WEST VIRGINIA

  The Hotel - Present Day

  The sound of a people roaming outside the door to their hotel room brought his mind back to the present. He sat up and swiped his hand across his face. Still smiling from the memory, he got up and walked across the room to get a bottle of water from the ‘snack bag’ on the floor. He pulled out a bottle and twisted the lid, taking a sip.

  It had a funny taste ta it, but at least it quenched his thirst. Putting back on the lid, he set the bottle down on the glass table and went ta check on his lass, Paige.

  She was now cu
rled up in a ball, hugging a pillow to her stomach. Each time she inhaled, she made a little snorting noise. Her brownish-honeyed colored hair fell over the side of her shoulder in a long waving mass of curls.

  Reaching forward, he brushed the strands back away from her face and leaning over, he placed the gentlest of kisses on top of her head.

  Standing back up, he stretched, and crossed the room, settling back into the cushions of the high-backed chair once more, he resumed his earlier position. Closing his eyes once more, he let him mind drift back to the past…

  MEMORY

  Greystone Castle, Gavin’s Bedchamber

  “Och, lass, slow down,” he panted, gripping her hips as she bucked against him. Her pale, heart-shaped buttocks pressed back against him as he entered her fully once more.

  “Faster…harder…” she begged, thrashing wildly against him.

  Slicked with sweat, Gavin did her bidding. He had to do what she wanted…if he stopped, he knew she would surely lose her mind. She reminded him of a wild animal. Her nails dug into the backs of his thighs and his buttocks. Clenching, he thrust forward again.

  “Yes,” she gasped, tightening around his length like a vice. “Don’t stop.”

  He tried to turn her over, to slow her down…

  “Stop!” She batted his hands away.

  Frustrated, he thrust forward again—harder this time.

  “Touch me here.” She grabbed his hands and covered her breast with them.

  Gavin obliged, gently cupping each.

  “Not like that!” she screamed. “Squeeze them…hard…” she gritted, flailing her head back and forth.

  Using his thumb and forefinger, he squeezed her nipples, hard, just like she wanted, and in doing so caused another stream of expletives to flow from her mouth.

  She had the strangest vocabulary he had ever heard. And that was saying something since his father had traveled across many continents in his life. And even though Greystone was his father’s birthright, he wanted to stay away. Telling Gavin that Greystone was cursed.

  But Gavin disagreed.

  Greystone Castle was his home, the place where his mother had given birth ta him and his brother—the one sibling he had, a twin, but he did not live long enough for Gavin ta even know him. Greystone Castle and the surrounding land including Loch Morar, was his birthright, even if it was cursed. Which he highly doubted—or he did, until everyone he had ever loved, died.

  His mother was the first to go, from a mysterious fever that lasted for days. Not long after that, his father followed her to grave by his own hand. They said he lost his wits.

  Gavin didn’t know what had happened, he was too young at the time to digest the whole of what had taken place or make sense of it. Even now, that he was older, he still could not make heads or tails of what had transpired on those dark days.

  Morgan was his Father’s second in command and had taken care of Gavin after that. He raised him, and trained him to be the man the he was today.

  Jillian screamed out another expletive. “Damn you,” she seethed, scratching and clawing her nails deeply into his skin.

  Gavin flinched from the intense pain. He grabbed her hair, wrapped it around his hand, and pulled her head back. “Lass,” he murmured against her ear as his body tensed.

  “Don’t you dare…” She jerked forward, trying to break free.

  Gavin froze. “Am I hurting ye, lass?”

  She laughed then. It wasn’t a simple laugh either—the sound of it made icy fingers of dread race down his spine bringing a buried memory back ta the surface—his mother laughed much the same way right before she died.

  Placing his hand on her forehead, he checked ta see if she was hot ta the touch. She was warm but did not have the blistering heat he had felt on his mother’s skin before she died.

  Jillian grabbed his hand and shoved it down into the soft curls between her thighs. “You like that, don’t you,” she purred, moving his hand further still, until he was touching himself and her at the same time.

  Wet heat covered his fingers from the honeyed nectar spilling from her body. “Aye, I do.”

  She jerked his hand away and turned in his arms. Forcefully, she shoved him back on the bed and climbed on top of him. Her long hair fell forward over his chest, tickling his skin as she impaled herself on his length.

  His breath hitched in his throat. “Lass, what are ye doing?”

  “I’m taking what I want.”

  “Lass, there is no need ta take what I am offering freely.”

  “That’s what you think.” She leaned forward and bit his lip savagely, nearly drawing blood.

  “Och, lass…” He grabbed her hands in his own and pushed her back.

  Jillian wasn’t having any of that. She started to cry. “Why do you keep doing this to me?”

  Gavin felt an uncomfortable tightening in his chest. The last thing he wanted ta do was cause her distress. “Lass, I…”

  “Don’t say another word,” she warned, placing her fingers on his lips. Wrapping her free hand around his length, she squeezed, hard.

  Gavin groaned and gritted his teeth.

  Jillian released him and placed her hands on his chest, digging her nails into his skin as she rocked back and pushed down again, impaling herself further.

  Gavin closed his eyes. There was something holy unnatural about the love play betwixt the two of them but he was in too deep ta stop now. Wanting the business over sooner rather than later he took matters into his own hands. Reaching up, he grabbed hold of her waist and flipped her over so he was the one on top.

  Pushing her legs up, he buried himself to the hilt. “Ye like that?”

  “Yes…” she panted, trying to reach up and grab hold of him again.

  Gavin clasped his hands in hers to stop her from clawing away more skin from his body and thrust hard, again and again...and again… until she was writhing and screaming with need underneath him. Her heels dug into his buttocks and still he continued his relentless assault, losing himself in the moment until he brought them both to an explosive release.

  ♦

  Much later, he stared up at the blackened ceiling in his bedchamber wondering what he would do with her. Jillian was so unlike the other witches that had been sent ta him over the past few months. She was the comeliest one as well. Granted, Gavin had bedded many a woman in his time, so many, in fact, he had lost count. The first he would always remember, though. She was older and skilled in the art of love play, which is why his father picked her especially for Gavin. But she was also a seer, or what some called a wanderer, traveling with a band of gypsies that had visited the keep to sell their wares or services in exchange for a place to rest their heads and food ta fill their bellies.

  After the gypsy had her way with his person, she told Gavin he was damned, just like his father and his father, before him.

  O’ course, Gavin didn’t believe her. But now, as he lay in bed beside Jillian, completely sated, he couldn’t help but wonder if that prediction held true. He cared deeply for the lass at his side, more so than he ever thought imaginable. Whenever he looked at her face, his heart beat a little faster and sweat beaded on his skin.

  There were other indicators as well. The fact he could scarce get her out of his mind long enough to do his duties around the keep or train with his men. But she did have a flaw, or two—she had a temper, a real mean streak. She was not a kind person, especially to Callum.

  Gavin thought that was the strangest thing of all since Callum had the best disposition with Muir running a close second out of all of the men.

  Jillian favored Broderick. She always lorded praise upon his head, and in turn Broderick would do anything she asked of him.

  Gavin often wondered if there was more to it than that and had asked Jillian as much.

  The day he did, that temper of hers was immediately directed at him in full force. Her sharp tongue unleashed a bounty of insults upon his head and hearing it from her lips had wounded him dee
ply, even more so than he thought possible.

  He knew the reason.

  He was in love with her, regardless of her cruelty towards his men, he loved her like no other before.

  She had somehow bewitched him—and he found that he was helpless to circumvent the demon that had surely taken hold of her to make her behave in such a way.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  HIGHLAND GAMES, WEST VIRGINIA

  The Hotel - Present Day

  The sound of rain splattering in sharp pings against the windows brought his mind back to the present and with it a burning question that he was surprised he had not thought of before now…

  Why would Broderick kill Jillian? Especially, feeling the way that he did about her? And she, about him? Did they have a falling out? Was it from jealousy that he, Gavin, spent so much time with her?

  Scrubbing his hands over his face, Gavin sat forward, feeling strangely at odds with himself.

  He had no answers readily available to any of his questions swirling in his mind and unfortunately, at this juncture, he did not think he ever would.

  Standing, he crossed the room and looked down at his lass, as she slept. She was so different from Jillian. Not only in looks but also her disposition—they were complete opposites in that way. He cared a great deal for the lass, that much was true.

  Did he love her, though?

  He thought he might. But in matters of the heart, especially ones like this, nothing was ever easy. At least that is the way it seemed to Gavin.

  Not having any answers readily available, he gave up trying to figure them out, at least for now.

  Pulling off his clothes, he stripped naked and climbed into bed beside his lass. He snuggled beside her and closed his eyes. After a while, he finally, albeit reluctantly, drifted off to sleep.