A Laird to Hold

by Angeline Fortin

  Could taking a life for the sake of love and family be any less righteous?

  Even if it weren’t, wasn’t that cause worth the sacrifice of his morality?

  If he could go back to his former life for but a day that would be the debate he’d engage his old friends in. Hume, especially would have a field day with the topic.

  “Hugh? You’ve gotten awfully quiet.”

  “Just thinking.”

  “Maybe you should stop then.”

  He laughed. “’Tis ne’er been an easy task to subdue my thoughts, lass.”

  “I know. You’re a thinker.” Her palm swept down his flexed stomach. “If you can’t turn them off, maybe we can turn them in a more productive direction.”

  Her teasing fingers slid farther down to encircle the only part of him that wasn’t already tense and hard. Hugh sucked in a sharp breath as his mind did indeed delve into an entirely different subject matter. Then the blood pounding in his ears deafened him to any thought other than making passionate love to his wife.

  “Och, Sorcha, how ye stir me,” he groaned, arching into her light grasp.

  “I love watching you like this,” she whispered in his ear. “So aroused with lust.”

  With a growl, Hugh turned her beneath him and captured her lips in a kiss that scorched him all the way to his troubled soul. “Nay, mo ghrá. No’ lust. My desire for ye isnae born in my cock. ‘Tis from my heart. This passionate love consumes me.”

  His mouth claimed hers once more, fanning the flames of desire. He rocked against her, building the delicious friction of his chest against hers. His hips against hers. Heat combusted into a raw yearning to possess her. Until he was consumed in truth.

  Her eager hands explored him, urging him on. They left his flesh aflame. Her satin body surrendered to his caress as he reached the junction of her thighs. Quivering beneath his fingers as he stroked and teased a throaty cry from her. The sound stoked Hugh’s ardor, his heart beating rapidly. Hungry for more, he dragged his mouth down to catch one nipple between his lips. He tongued the sensitive tip and reveled in her carnal sob, growing harder by the moment until he was throbbing against her thigh.

  Claire clung to his broad shoulders, her nails digging in as he continued to caress her.

  “Hugh,” she moaned hoarsely when he slid a finger between her wet folds.

  Her lithe body bowed against him, urging him on. Head reeling, he could scarcely focus on his task. She was intoxicating in her rapture, his bonny lass.

  She clenched around his finger as he slid in and out of her honeyed depths. “Oh, God. Yes. Yes, Hugh.”

  “Aye, Sorcha,” he rasped, stroking harder. “Take yer pleasure, lass.”

  “Oh, God!”

  Hugh caught the plea with his mouth, absorbing her euphoric cries as she convulsed against his hand. Again and again, sobbing against his lips as she surrendered to oblivion.

  Her hold on him slackened but only for a moment. Then her arms slid around his shoulders, pulling him close.

  “I want you so badly,” she whispered, sending a shudder of pure want through him. “Come to me.”

  “Aye, lass. I’m here.”

  Though the blazing hunger tearing through him demanded he ravish her thoroughly, Hugh knew from experience there was greater satisfaction in prolonging the moment. Lifting her legs around him, he glided into her slowly, the erotic caress stealing his breath. His heart thundered, matching Claire’s as he moved within her in lengthy, agonizing strokes. The protracted moan he drew from her nearly sent him over the edge. Nuzzling the hollow behind her ear, he rasped her name as if it were a prayer.

  Hugh lifted his head and looked down at her, savoring each slow thrust as if it were his last. Claire’s bewitching amethyst eyes smoldered with wanton pleasure. Knowing his wife was as consumed as he only served to fire his passions more. He thrust again, hard and deep, wringing a low, keening mewl from her. Another, harder earned him an elated gasp. Again, he matched her moan with a harsh groan.

  “Yes, oh yes, Hugh.” His name became a breathy cry.

  Cupping her bottom in his hands, he tilted her up and drove into her, drawing an enchanting yelp, but it wasn’t enough. He intended to make her scream loud enough this night to keep a blush upon her cheeks for a sennight more.

  Hugh plundered her sweet body, harder and faster. Then faster still until her fervent cries tumbled one over the other. His own release was gripping him, but he denied its call. Only when Claire screamed his name as ecstasy took her did he allow the exhilaration of his own orgasm to rip through him.

  He bent over her lax body, each breath ragged. Torn from deep within. Claire lifted her face to his and Hugh kissed her again, sliding his tongue along hers as she sighed contentedly. Her hands swept over his shoulders, down his back, to clench his arse. With another luxuriating moan, she arched her hips with him still buried inside her.

  Unbidden, his sated body stirred once more and her satisfied laugh brushed against his lips. “My insatiable Highlander.”

  “My greedy wife,” he countered and rocked his hips, hungry for more.

  She laughed again, a joyous sound. “I love you, Hugh.”

  “And I love ye, mo ghrá. More each day.”

  Hugh proceeded to prove it and it was quite some time before more troubling thoughts came to mind again.

  They might be temporarily subdued but unfortunately they couldn’t be so easily dismissed.

  Emmy

  Emmy collapsed against Connor’s heaving chest, every blood vessel in her body thrumming with rapture.

  Again.

  “You can keep doing that all you like,” she sighed, “but you’re not going to make the subject disappear.”

  He chuckled and combed his fingers through her hair.

  “I’ve brought ye to paradise four times this night,” his husky brogue was close to her ear. “And still that’s all ye hae to think aboot?”

  Five times. But who was counting?

  Draping herself over his hard body, she buried her face against his sweaty neck. “Connor, it’s two in the morning and my body is aching in places I didn’t even know I possessed. I’m exhausted, getting a little cranky, but no, this subject is not going to go away no matter what you—” Her breath caught as he arched beneath her.

  Damn him. How could he keep doing this to her?

  “Stop, please.”

  His chest shook beneath her, his chuckle vibrating through her. Connor flipped her underneath him and lifted himself on one elbow. His brown eyes were deep, dark. Filled with love.

  For her.

  How could he know her body so well to make it sing over and over and not know how thoroughly he possessed her heart?

  “Do ye surrender, lass?”

  “Never.”

  But the authority was lacking. Emmy’s gaze caressed his face, absorbing the sight of his rugged features. One she would never grow tired of. Not in a million years.

  “How could you doubt me?” she asked again. “Even for a second? I love you so much.”

  “And I love ye, lass.”

  His lips touched hers again and he shifted until he was between her sore legs once more. The weight of him was heavenly, but she couldn’t let him distract her again. Pushing at his shoulders, she forced him to meet her eyes.

  “Be honest then,” she pleaded. “How could you even think I wouldn’t want to go home with you?”

  “I dinnae ken.” He exhaled slowly and rolled to his back, carrying her into the crook of his arm. “’Tis no’ that I truly believe it…Ah, I dinnae ken, lass. ‘Tis such a strange time to me. I feel oot of my skin, yet I can tell ye like some of the luxuries here despite yer protests.”

  “Ha, name one.”

  “The hotel. The stores.” He rolled the R hard. “The hospital.

  A moue turned her lips downward. “I said one.”

  Yes, she was enjoying it. There was no denying that. But he failed to see the bigger picture.

  “Do you re
member all the times we talked about the things I liked to do before Donell sent me back to you?”

  “Aye, and they’re all here for ye again in this time. I ken ye missed it.”

  “Maybe I have to some extent.” The admission wasn’t a difficult one to make, but Connor needed to know why more than anything.

  Emmy draped her arms across his chest and propped her chin on her hands to look up at him. “What I’ve enjoyed most of all about being here, though, is sharing all those things with you. Can’t you see? It’s been so enjoyable for me to see your expression when you try the things you could only ever expect to talk about.”

  Connor stared at the ceiling, idly stroking her hair. He was heeding her words though.

  She pressed on, stroking his bristled jaw. “I love being with you here, Connor. I loved watching you drive for the first time. Watching you take your first bite of Ben & Jerry’s. I wish we could do more. Take you to an Orioles game or to the opera or to Las Vegas. But only because I want to share the things I love with you.”

  “Would ye nae want to stay here?”

  “How can you think I’d want to stay?” Astonishment left her gaping at him. “Sure, there may be a few toys here I miss, and I’m willing to admit I’d rather give birth in a nice modern hospital someday rather than in our bed, but I told Donell and you, too, a long time ago, life here is nothing compared to what I gained being with you. My home is at Duart.”

  He wasn’t mollified by her heartfelt declaration, but then he’d always been a stubborn man. “But if something were to happen to me, ye’d prefer life here to Duart.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to you,” she declared fiercely. “And I’m going home with or without you. I’d simply prefer with you.”

  “’Tis glad I am to hear ye say so.”

  Still, he did not relent. Emmy heaved a deep breath, pushed up and gazed down at him with a stern frown. “Did you hear what Scarlett said in there? That once she was just in love with Laird? As if it were nothing in comparison to what she feels now? I’ve never heard anything sum up my feelings so well. I don’t just love you anymore, you idiotic man, I adore you. My life is with you, my world with you. I wouldn’t give it up for front row tickets to the Met or box seats at Camden Yards and a lifetime supply of Half-Baked.” She swatted his chest irritably when he stared fixedly at the ceiling. “I swear to God, when the time comes, I’ll race you home.”

  A chuckle built steadily in Connor and when he flipped her beneath him once more, his brown eyes were dancing with amusement. “Now that’s just the profound declaration I was waiting for, my love. ‘Tis happy I am to ken I’m worth more to ye than yer favorite ice cream.”

  “You let me pour my heart out on purpose?” she gawked up at him.

  “Aye. I was curious to see how far ye’d go to convince me.”

  He bent his head to kiss her but Emmy evaded his lips until he was laughing with hearty glee.

  “I take it all back,” she told him.

  “Nay, ye cannae, lass. I ken now how much ye adore me.”

  “You insufferable—” He caught her mouth fully this time, putting a halt to her tirade. Emmy tried to fight the power of his kiss, but within seconds she melted beneath him.

  “Anything else ye want to say to convince me further, lass?” he murmured against her pliant lips.

  “No, it’s your turn to convince me.”

  “Wi’ pleasure, my love.”

  They had some babies to make, after all.

  Claire

  The next morning

  “Danny? Can you hear me?”

  Claire tucked her phone against her shoulder and opened the hotel room door. Waving in the room service waiter, she checked the volume on her phone with a frown.

  “Danny?”

  The waiter pushed their breakfast cart inside and parked it near the table. He uncovered the myriad of dishes they’d ordered. The steam carried the scent toward her and her empty stomach grumbled. A reminder of all she’d done to work up an appetite the previous night.

  “Here,” her brother mumbled at last, and she forced her attention away from the food. “You know it’s like one in the morning, don’t you?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry, did I interrupt your lunch break? It’s not like you were asleep.”

  “You don’t know. I could have been.”

  Sure, and a housecat enjoyed the morning paper for the insightful editorials. Danny’s regular hours had more in common with a vampire’s than those of an average human. Most of the time he went to bed as the sun was coming up, not going down. Which was exactly why she’d waited to call him.

  “Listen, Danny, I need your help.”

  Despite whatever plans Hugh and Laird had to plot Jameson’s untimely demise, she needed to continue with a more sane, less murderous strategy to circumvent the agent.

  Making the men legal citizens of Scotland, or at least projecting the appearance of legality was key. After all, it had worked well enough for Hugh. It could work for them, too.

  And her hacker brother was the man for the job.

  “Again? Truly unprecedented,” he drawled. “Are you in trouble again?”

  “No, but trouble is after me.”

  He slurped loudly in her ear—Red Bull most likely—before a snort of laughter reached her. “You know, my sister, for years you never did anything interesting at all. You’re much more fun these days.”

  “I’m so glad I can amuse you.” She put the eye roll he couldn’t see into those words.

  Danny cackled again. “Oh, you do. You do.”

  They could do this all day, no doubt. Trade one snide comment for another. While it would be diverting, they had more vital territory to cover.

  The scent of bacon warred for her attention as much as her brother’s random commentary. She inhaled and released a sigh of yearning. “Listen, Hugh has some friends here who are having the same problem he did an—”

  “You do have a way of riling the Feds, don’t you?” Danny interrupted without apology. “I know and I’ve been working on it.”

  Claire frowned at the phone. Had she heard correctly? She put the conversation on speaker. “What do you mean, you know?”

  “You know how I told you about my new neighbor?” The question was muffled. Most likely because a slice of pizza had found its way into his mouth, as usual.

  Hugh and Rhys seated themselves at the table and dug into the food. Laird lifted Hermione onto his lap and doled out a plateful of eggs and bannocks. A piece of bacon on Hugh’s plate called out to her and Claire couldn’t resist snatching it up.

  Hugh rapped his fork across her knuckles. “Ye dinnae want that. Yer a vegetarian, remember?”

  She was. Damn it, but it smelled too heavenly to deny. “Baby wants meat,” she told him and bit into the crisp goodness with a moan to rival any Hugh had wrung from her last night.

  What was Danny talking about again?

  “What neighbor?”

  “The creepy old Irish dude down the hall. I told you about him, remember?” he admonished. “Nut job, most like, but the minions think he must be clairvoyant or something.”

  “Irish?”

  “Or whatever.” She could envision his careless shrug. Details like that were never important to him. Claire nibbled on her bacon as he continued, “He came by a couple weeks ago and told me you were having some issues and asked, quite nicely and with generous monetary incentive, to prepare a few things for you. Told me you’d call when you were ready for them. Gotta say, I didn’t believe him, but cash is cash, right?”

  Everyone at the table stopped eating and stared at her phone as if they could see through it to her brother in Seattle.

  The bacon stuck in Claire’s throat. “This guy wouldn’t happen to be named Donell, would he?”

  “Dude! Are you clairvoyant now, too?” Danny sounded impressed. “Yeah. Well, I got most of it ready for you. I just need the pictures.”

  “Pictures?” She lifted a
brow at Hugh, but all the men seemed as stunned as she by the knowledge Donell had somehow been ‘living’ in the same building as her brother. “Sure, I’ll get those to you this morning.”

  “Better hurry,” he added with a playful note to the request. “You know I’ll be going to bed soon.”

  “You’ll have them in a minute.”

  “Excellent. Once I have the documents prepared, I’ll be on the next flight over there.”

  Claire laughed aloud at the thought. “You know the government can track you when you travel, right?”

  Silence lasted only a heartbeat. “

  “So true. FedEx it is.”

  Relief intermingled with a whole new round of curiosity but her brother wasn’t the one with the answers. As always, all roads led back to the enigmatic Donell. God, she hoped the old man didn’t have his sights set on Danny for a future project.

  But then, he was part of the project. As she was. How odd yet thrilling it’d been to learn she was descended from Emmy and Connor. She’d thought her only role in all this was saving Hugh from Jameson’s wrath.

  “Hey, Danny, did you know our great-great grandfather was a Scottish earl?”

  “Truly?” he drew out the word. “I suddenly feel so superior to the common rabble.”

  Ha, he always felt superior.

  “At least now I know where you got your hoity-toity attitude from,” her brother added.

  “Ha-ha,” she said without a trace of humor. “Thank you, Danny. I owe you one.”

  “You owe me several, but who’s counting?”

  Clearly he was.

  “Thank you anyway.”

  “Anything for my favorite sister.”

  “I’m your only sister,” she replied by way of goodbye and ended the call.

  Claire took one of the chairs at the table, tucking one of her feet beneath her, and picked up another piece of bacon. They all ate in silence for a few moments, absorbing this new twist on their convoluted tale. The others were going to love this.

  Rhys broke the silence at last. “Yer brother seems a humorous lad.”

  Hugh gave a short bark of amusement. “Aye, ye two would get along famously.”