The Princess and the Laird

by C. A. Szarek

  Alana peeked through the trees, spotting Fae Warriors. There were two on the dais, and two patrolling a path through the blue and orange grasses of the Field of Light. They walked side-by-side, as a pair. She could hear the low hum of their deep voices, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying from her current distance. She didn’t see the remaining two guards who should be on duty right now.

  Why’re they missing?

  She hid only feet from where the tree-line ended and the long orange and blue grasses of the Field truly began, tucked behind a maroon-barked Acana tree, not far from the area she’d caused the explosion the first time she’d snuck to see Alex without Xander. The charred underbrush remained, marking the spot black; it hadn’t been enough time to grow over.

  I can’t tarry here forever.

  Alana tilted her head back on the tree and patted the bark on either side of her, reveling in the rough feel under her palms. Her heart jumped at the thought of seeing Alex again.

  Holding his hand, hugging him. Definitely kissing him.

  She had no illusions about this trip. If—when—she found him, she’d do all of that, and more.

  Alana would give herself to him if he’d have her.

  Guilt churned her stomach, souring the two Sùbh fruits she’d eaten, despite how good they’d tasted. She needed to tell Alex about Seamus. It should be the first thing out of her mouth.

  Not just because of what she’d had to agree to, but because it was him—and his clan—that could be the victim of Fae revenge.

  Death sentences for all the MacLeods.

  Because of me.

  She crushed her eyes shut and inhaled. Perhaps she should go back. Return to her suite and get back in bed.

  If she actually stayed away from him, Seamus couldn’t hurt Alex and the MacLeods. The Irish wretch wouldn’t have a reason to, right?

  He wouldn’t have anything to hold over her head. Then she could break her betrothal. Her father would be angry—but Alana wasn’t really going to marry Seamus, so it was only a matter of time until she tapped into King Fillan’s rage regarding the Irish prince anyway.

  She’d have to make it look like Seamus’ fault; that was the only way she’d avoid the king’s wrath. And with the prince’s appetite for the lasses, combined with his requirement to be faithful to her, it was a real possibility she could get out of the betrothal validly, and get back at the bastard at the same time. Maybe she’d even be able to muster some tears for her father’s benefit.

  It was the only way to save herself and Alex.

  She’d have to run the plan by Xander in the morning.

  With Seamus’ threat—no, vow—hanging over her, she really should go back to the palace.

  Was she being foolish, or worse, selfish in her desire to see the human laird?

  Nay, he’s my fate.

  Was he really?

  Was there a way to find out for sure, or should she blindly follow her heart?

  Alana frowned as the negative emotions jumped up and bit into her again. She panted through a wave of nausea, and let the Acana tree take her weight as she reclined into it completely.

  The urge to retch was becoming too common, haunting her. She’d never had a weak constitution.

  Rough bark bit at her shoulders through her mantle, but it grounded her in a way, and she clutched at the tree as she wobbled against it.

  Stay here, go home, or go to the Human Realm?

  What was the right thing to do?

  She pushed off the tree and squared her shoulders. “Nay. I need to see Alex.”

  Everything would melt away if Alana saw her laird.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Alex, come to me. I need to see you.

  The words were a whisper in his mind, and he jarred awake. It took him moments that felt like hours to orient, despite familiar surroundings. He was in his bed, in the laird’s chambers. In his home, Dunvegan.

  Alex sat up, throwing the plaid and furs off his sweaty body. He put a palm to his bare chest. His heart was hammering. He was hot; skin clammy.

  Why was he overheated?

  His bollocks ached, answering him. His shaft was hard and heavy, pulsing as if beckoning his hand.

  The dream.

  He’d been with Alana again.

  Exhaling slowly, he closed his eyes as visions of carnal things floated across his mind. His princess, stripping. Kissing him. Touching him. Mounting him. Taking him into her lithe body. They moved together, hands all over each other. Lips, too.

  They hadn’t been in his rooms. Or his bed.

  But where had they been?

  Everything except her was fuzzy.

  Alex, if you can hear me, come to me.

  He jerked and his bedframe creaked.

  Her voice was loud and clear, as sure as if she’d whispered in his ear.

  “Alana?”

  Please. I need you.

  Alex slipped from his bed and looked around the room. The fire had been banked hours before, but embers winked from the hearth. He shivered, but he wasn’t cold.

  He grabbed a leine from his trunk and tugged it over his head, then wrapped his plaid around his waist and belted it on.

  “Alana?” he repeated. He swept the room, looking everywhere, even under the desk and behind the thick drapes.

  I need to be with you, Alex.

  She wasn’t in his suite.

  Panic inched up from his gut. Not that he’d finally lost his mind—as it probably should—but that she’d be gone before he could find her. That he’d dreamt her up only to miss seeing her.

  Need burned a path from his pelvis to his throat and Alex was torn between the very opposite feelings. But it helped him inhale and calm.

  He glanced at the closed window. The angle of the moonlight leaking inside told him it was late—the middle of the night.

  “The beach!”

  She’s down there.

  Waiting for him on the ridge where he’d first kissed her.

  At the current hour, he was mad indeed to consider going out alone, and on foot—because he’d not want to alert anyone to his jaunt—but he had to go.

  Alex stomped into his boots and grabbed his sword, dashing to the double doors of the laird’s chamber—where he made himself stop and breathe.

  He needed to be stealthy and alert no one. His parents were right next door. The Lady of the Castle’s rooms adjoined his, and even shared a door on the inside.

  Iain had moved into the room, even though it was smaller than the laird’s, when his wife had first taken ill. Alex had tried to refuse to take his father’s former private space and been unsuccessful, then had moved out of his childhood quarters soon after.

  He stared at the thick wooden panel from his spot near the main entrance to his suite.

  All quiet.

  No sound was coming from the room where his parents slept.

  Alex wasn’t inept at sneaking out of the castle—had done so many a time to meet a lass in the stables for a tryst in years past, but that was all before he’d become the laird.

  He’d not want questions from his family—or his clansmen, if he encountered anyone. His father was a notoriously light sleeper, and with the man so close, he had to be extra careful with every footfall.

  Barely breathing, he made it out of the room, down the stairs, through the great hall, and waited until the night guards were on the other side of the embattlement before sneaking through the gates.

  He kept his back plastered to Dunvegan as much as possible—the men-at-arms were high above and it was their duty to detect threats. Their roving patrols of the wall made the whole area easily visible—even at night.

  Although their laird stealing off into the darkness wasn’t a danger to those within the castle walls, it was certainly another root of those questions he wanted to avoid.

  He couldn’t straighten to his full height until he was well away from the stronghold. He thanked God for the long untamed grasses and small hills between the c
astle and the beach.

  When Alex could smell the waters, he ran. The ridge came into sight in the light of the moon, and his heart stuttered.

  She was indeed up there, looking toward him as if she’d known he’d come to her. “Alex!”

  He skidded to a halt, bent at the waist with his hands planted on his knees. He wasn’t out of breath, exactly, but his heart cantered so hard he was dizzy.

  Alana scampered down the incline as if she did so every day, and her body collided with his. She threw her arms around him, hugging him so tight it took his breath all over again.

  Alex barely had time to catch her up and keep them from both tumbling to the rocky ground. “Alana. Lass.” He inhaled her aroma, familiar and overwhelming at the same time. Floral and wild, mixed with the scent of the moving waters of the sea. “Alana, Alana,” he chanted.

  She pulled back and pinned him with that violet stare. “Alex.” His princess exhaled audibly. “Alex. I knew you’d hear me. I knew you’d come.”

  “Always, lass. Always.”

  They strolled in a companionable silence by the moonlight, but like the first moment he’d spotted her and she’d yelled his name, he still wasn’t convinced he wasn’t dreaming.

  The waves were calm tonight as they slapped the beach, the repetitive sound washing even more peace over him as they walked.

  Had she really been calling him?

  Why couldn’t he find his voice to ask?

  She’d said something about him hearing her, and he could find out what that meant, if could stop staring and ask.

  Alex grabbed her hand and entwined their fingers, because he couldn’t not touch her. The familiar spark shot up his arm and he swallowed.

  Alana flashed a grin that had his heart pattering again.

  “I really did fear I’d ne’er see ye again,” he whispered.

  Sadness darted across her ethereal face, visible despite the darkness of the night. The moon was high and full. “I…I really shouldn’t have come back. It’s too dangerous.” She paused as if she’d say more, but didn’t.

  Like the last time she’d come to him with her cousin. When they’d languished in each other’s company for hours that felt like days.

  What was she not telling him?

  His gut told him pushing her would get him nowhere. He brought their joined hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “I’m glad ye did.”

  Alana nodded. “I know I said goodbye. That I could make no promises to you. It’s still true. But…I…had to come back.”

  Rightness settled over Alex like he hadn’t felt since he’d met her, then lost her. All three times. “This feels like ‘tis supposed ta happen.”

  She made a noise that sounded like a half whimper, half laugh.

  “Alana?” he whispered. When he looked down into her eyes, they were misty.

  His princess had her free hand over her mouth, as if holding back a sob.

  “Is somethin’ wrong?”

  Alana shook her head, but didn’t speak.

  “If ye dinna tell me, lass, I—”

  She tugged her hand free and launched herself at him.

  He caught her up and chuckled, but the sound was lost with the frantic press of her lips against his. Alex didn’t hesitate to meet her seeking tongue, pushing his way into her mouth as she did the same to him. He let her deepen their kiss as they clutched at each other.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and he hiked her higher, until Alana wrapped her legs around his waist.

  He couldn’t get close enough. Couldn’t hold her tight enough. ‘Twas a foolish foolish thought, but he didn’t want to let her go. Ever.

  “I need to be with you,” she breathed into their kiss.

  “Lass—” All sorts of words formed in his brain, but there was a disconnect with his mouth. He didn’t want to waste time or statements. Wanted to agree with her wholeheartedly. But they were on the beach, out in the open at night—it was cold, too—and he couldn’t exactly take her back to Dunvegan.

  His brother may know of her, but Alex wanted to avoid questions from the rest of his family and clan. Come morning, he’d certainly have to explain the lass in his bed, let alone a beauty such as her.

  He could sneak her in through the kitchens, but there would be no solution for hiding her when the sun rose. His parents so close to his rooms were another problem entirely.

  “I know a place we can go,” Alana said, as if she’d read his mind. She loosened her hold around him, and he set her to her feet.

  She slid down his body, and the soft push of her breasts into his chest made his insides quiver and his cock jump. His princess took his hand, and led him down the beach, away from the ridge where they’d first kissed.

  He didn’t argue. Didn’t care where she took him; Alex’s sole concern was Alana.

  Kissing her. Touching her. Taking her.

  Their gazes met. Emotions that didn’t make sense stared back at him. A part of him wanted to question what he was seeing, and the other part reveled in it. His pulse skipped, his heart bounded off his ribs, and it was difficult to look away from her, especially when she put her hand on his arm.

  She wasn’t close enough.

  He needed more.

  “Alex?” she whispered.

  “I canna explain any of this. But I need ye, lass. Like I need my next breath.”

  Alana swallowed and he wanted to kiss her throat. “I know, Alex. I feel the same way.”

  “Take me where ye will.”

  She laughed, and the charming grin curving her kiss-swollen lips was almost his undoing. “I was hoping you’d take me, actually.”

  His half-mast erection tingled, the friction against the wool of his plaid worsening, torturing with every step they took. “Aye, I’ve tha’ in mind.” The thickness of his voice made the jest fall off a bit, but Alex didn’t care, because the sultry look in her eyes only made him harder, until his whole body was begging. “Just hope ‘tisna far.”

  “Nay, ‘tis not.”

  The refined edge to her words was distracting since it was so different than his own—reminding him of her station—but it didn’t dim his desire.

  She pulled him around a large boulder, until they stood in front of the tall wall of an incline, with what appeared to be a crack dividing the cliff-face. It widened as it came down into the rocky sandy ground. “We’re here,” she announced.

  “Where is here?”

  “Remember I told you about Faery Stones? The portal to come to this realm is born of their magic. They’re housed inside. It doesn’t look like much, but ‘tis a cave within. We’ll be safe. No one will bother us.” She moved toward the split in the cliff.

  Although the entrance was cave-like, it wasn’t very wide. Even her slender form blocked his view, and Alex would have to duck, possibly turn sideways to fit through it.

  He let her go into the fissure first, but his protective instincts protested. She’d said it was safe, but he couldn’t know that until he could see inside.

  Indeed, the cavity opened up into a cavern, and once they were under the cover of it he was able to straighten. The ceiling was low, though. If he reached up, he could touch it. He relaxed a tad when nothing jumped out at them.

  A glow in his periphery—along with a low hum—took his attention, and his gaze shot to the left. Five crystals sat atop five natural-looking rock-like formations, in a semi-circle shape that looked too perfect to be an accident. They were lit from the inside, an almost throbbing radiance, and in turn, illuminated the cave.

  Alex gasped.

  Alana took his hand and led him closer. “Behold, the Faery Stones.”

  His mouth was dry for reasons other than his urgent libido. “Magic,” he breathed.

  She nodded. “They bring me to you.”

  “Then I’m fond of ‘em.”

  Her smile was brilliant and she threaded her arms around his middle, squeezing him tight.

  Alex returned her embrace, but let his eyes sc
an the cave. It wasn’t overly large, but it wasn’t tiny, and the natural floor was littered with starkly white sand, much different than what was outside on the pebble-ridden beach.

  The area was well lit from the Faery Stones. More light than the moon had offered them.

  “Magic,” he repeated. “To see it…’tis different than hearin’ of it.”

  “I know, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know…later.”

  “Later?”

  “Aye. I cannot stay long, and right now, I want you, Alex MacLeod.”

  He gulped.

  Again, her words were forward, but he wanted her, too. It mattered not that they didn’t really know each other. That they’d seen each other three times, besides tonight.

  What was between them felt natural. Right.

  He didn’t like the idea of her leaving again, but he’d deal with that…later, as she’d said.

  Now, he was going to take her.

  Alex cupped her face and claimed her mouth.

  Alana was right with him, kissing him back deeply and enthusiastically. She twined her tongue with his as she pushed for control.

  He groaned against her lips and hauled her closer. His cock pounded, pleasantly trapped against her stomach, but he needed so much more.

  She mewled a protest when he ended their kiss and rested his forehead against hers.

  He had to pant to breathe and needed a minute before he could speak. “I want ye, lass.”

  “Aye,” Alana whispered.

  “Undress,” Alex ordered.

  The smile she flashed as she broke their physical contact was erotic, and made his erection strain even more against his plaid.

  She shimmied out of her purple trews, and the crystals behind her offered all the light he needed to see every inch of her body. Her light purple leine fell mid-thigh, obscuring what he wanted to see most, but it was only a matter of time, and he could do with some calming of his impatience.

  Or so he was trying to convince himself as he shifted in his boots and resisted the urge to rip her clothing from her lithe form.

  Her long hair was loose, swaying around her hips with her movements, and he couldn’t wait to bury his hands in it.

  “Lass,” Alex groaned.

  She cocked her head to one side, and paused. “Somethin’ wrong, Alex?”