A Magical Highland Solstice

by Mary Morgan

  Eve turned her back on him, her hands still clutching the steel bars.

  “I ken ’tis hard to fathom. Come dawn, if the snows are light, I can take ye out of the castle and show ye the land. Trust me, Eve,” he pleaded.

  “You promise?”

  When he touched her shoulder gently, she stiffened, but refused to turn around. “On my honor,” he replied, and dropped his hand.

  Turning around, she hugged her arms to ward off the chill of the night air. “Good, because right now, I’m thinking you’re all a bunch of raving lunatics.”

  Smiling, Cormac held out his arm. “I ken some of your words and agree. ’Tis madness that ye could have traveled so far—into another year.”

  Taking his offered arm, she countered, “Insanity.”

  Placing his hand over her trembling fingers, he smiled. “I can assure ye, Eve, ye are nae the first lass to travel the veil of time.”

  “Really,” she said dryly. “Is this what you tell others when they happen to get sucked into your illusions?”

  “I dinnae ken your meaning.”

  “No matter. I’m not prepared to give you a lesson in the English language.”

  Did the MacKays have this much trouble with their wives who traveled the veil of ages? Aye, he did recall the sharp tongues from those women, and he smiled. They were perfect for his friends.

  Eve pulled on his arm. “Have you not heard a word I said?”

  He halted their stride. Cupping her chin, the mere touch sent a path of longing through his body. Her skin was soft and warm. He lowered his head near her ear. “Every word,” he lied.

  Her sweet lips parted, and Cormac ached to steal a kiss.

  “Sir Cormac!” shouted Tomas. “’Tis gone and ’tis nae me this time.”

  Cormac let out a sigh and turned toward the running lad. “Pray tell what is missing?”

  The lad rubbed his nose on his sleeve. “The spice box. Glenna is searching madly, and Moira is yelling.”

  “By the hounds,” he groaned. “Has everyone gone mad?”

  “Obviously,” replied Eve.

  Ignoring her comment, Cormac asked, “Have ye seen any of the other lads near the kitchens? Back? Front?”

  Tomas shifted uneasily. “Ye would want names?”

  “’Tis a grave concern, Tomas.”

  The lad glanced down at his feet. “May I whisper their names to ye?”

  Eve knelt in front of the boy. “I’ll turn around and place my fingers in my ears, so I won’t hear a word.”

  He quickly glanced up. “Truly?”

  She smiled and stood. Turning around, Cormac watched in awe as the lass placed two fingers inside her ears and started to hum a tune.

  Tomas cupped a hand over his mouth to stop the laughter from bubbling forth. Cormac bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing himself. “Give me the names, or shall I guess?”

  “Ye may guess and I will nod,” replied Tomas.

  “Ranald and Bran.”

  Tomas nodded.

  “Return to the kitchens and let Moira ken I will have the men help in the search.”

  The lad scampered off toward the kitchens.

  Cormac waited until the lad was inside before tapping Eve on the shoulders.

  She bit her lower lip. “It’s only a spice box, Cormac. Can’t you—”

  “’Tis the thirteenth century. The spice box has value.” Grasping both Eve’s hands, he placed a kiss across her knuckles. “I shall require your calm spirit in helping to solve this latest misfortune.”

  Her brow furrowed. “I’m still on the fence about the year, but I will do my best to help you.”

  Smiling, he took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. “Let me alert my men. Please tell Moira all will be well.”

  Eve snickered. “You’re sending me into the lion’s den? I think I’ll need to borrow your sword to face Moira.”

  Stepping through the entrance, Cormac released his hold. “I trust ye can tame the fire in the woman.”

  “You have great faith, Sir Cormac,” she teased as she made her way to the kitchens.

  Gordon greeted him at the entrance. “’Tis true? Moira’s spice box has gone missing?”

  “Aye,” nodded Cormac. “Have ye seen the lads, Bran and Ranald?”

  “Briefly. They snatched some food and made haste out of the hall. Ye dinnae believe…Lugh’s balls!” He pounded his fist into his other hand. “How dare they—”

  Cormac held his hand up to stay his words. “I cannae say they were the ones to remove the box. They were seen near the kitchens. Until I have spoken with them, I await judgment.”

  Both men turned as Eve came running down the corridor. She grasped Cormac’s arm. “Moira is calmly situated. I told her you had the entire castle searching for her spices—”

  “’Tis a spice box,” interrupted Cormac.

  She waved him off. “Whatever. She’s relieved to know you’re assisting in the search. However, she has requested the pear wine from your cellar.”

  Cormac rubbed a hand across his face. “There is only one bottle left. The merchant from France has promised to bring more, but not until early summer.”

  Crossing her arms over her ample bosom, she glared at him. “You’ve requested I calm the woman. Now that I have, don’t expect me to return without the bottle. If you have no plans of relinquishing the wine, you go and tell her.”

  By the hounds! What would the lass be like in his bed? Fiery? Passionate? A siren to tame? Or would she tame him with her words, her hands, her kisses on his skin? Cursing himself for where his thoughts were leading, Cormac replied, “Let me retrieve the last bottle. No doubt, the woman plans to drench a cake with the costly liquid.”

  “I will start searching for the lads,” uttered Gordon, trying his best not to smile and failing miserably as he quickly walked away.

  “Come with me,” ordered Cormac.

  Making his way down the long corridor, he veered right along a narrow pathway. Only one torch was lit along the wall, and he pulled it free from its holder. When they reached the door to the cellar, he handed the torch to Eve. Removing the key from his neck, he unlocked the door.

  “Why do you have it locked?”

  He glanced over his shoulder at her. “If I didn’t, the cellar would be empty.”

  “Ahh…thieves everywhere.” Her tone was laced with mirth.

  Retrieving the torch from her hands, he moved along the walls and lit several more, placing the torch in an empty holder.

  “My goodness, Cormac. Now I understand what you meant. There must be a hundred bottles down here.”

  “Close to a thousand,” he corrected.

  She stood on tiptoe trying to look at the bottles. “I’m impressed.” Turning toward him, she smiled. “It’s beautiful down here, too. This is your haven, right?”

  His mouth twitched in humor. “Dinnae ken your meaning.”

  “A place to escape and rest. In my time…” Eve pointed a finger at him. “Merely saying for the moment, but in my time, they would call it a man cave.” She trailed her fingers over the back of his chair. “How perfect. All you need is a good book and a glass of wine to shut out the noise of the others.”

  He leaned against the table and watched her roam the room. Never before had a lass ventured into his cellar. This was a part of his life he did not share with anyone, even his men. Yet, for some unfathomable reason, Cormac wanted to share this place and more with Eve.

  She peered down the corridor. “What’s in the back?”

  Pushing away from the table, he strolled over to her. “Where the magic happens.”

  Eve pursed her lips as if considering his words. “Can you send me back home, Sir Magician?”

  Cormac stepped closer, unable to stop himself. “Do ye wish to leave, Eve?”

  Her lips parted, but no words came forth. She reached for his hand and turned it upward, tracing her finger down the middle of his palm. “I’m undecided.” Her smile was begui
ling. “I must first see if you are truly who you say you are.”

  He trembled from her touch. “And how can ye tell?” His voice remarkably hoarse.

  “Some say the lines in your hands can tell a lot about a person. Their life, marriage, children, and who they really are.” Her finger continued to trace lazy circles, and Cormac’s groin tightened.

  “And what do my lines tell ye?”

  “You are a strong man, Cormac Murray. Bold, stubborn, loyal.” She dropped his hand. “Long life.”

  He could still feel her burning touch within his palm. “Nae wife—children?”

  “Difficult to determine.” Eve swallowed, but held his gaze. “What magic do you perform down here?”

  Cormac placed a hand against the wall above her shoulder, pinning her against the wall. “I make…wine.”

  “Oh.” The word came out on a sigh.

  The door to the cellar slammed, and Eve jumped right into his arms. His hands roamed down her back, and he fought the desire to take her up against the wall. “Ye feel good in my arms, leannan.”

  “Should you not check to see why the door closed?” she asked in a hushed tone.

  Cormac lowered his head and brushed a kiss across her cheek, and then trailed more along her chin. “Are ye frightened?”

  “Yes,” she blurted out.

  He lifted her chin with his finger. “Why, Eve? I will always protect ye.”

  “Because you make me feel things I’ve never felt before. You confuse me. This place baffles me, and now you’re telling me I’m not in my own time.”

  Sighing deeply, Cormac took a step back. Her emerald eyes sparkled with desire, but this time, he held back. What could he offer her? A tumble in his bed was not for her. Nae, she deserved more. A home with a husband and children—someone from her own time. He had to put some distance between them. “Stay here.”

  Walking to the door, he opened it and glanced down the corridor. “No one there,” he replied and closed the door. Turning around, he clasped his hands behind his back. His mind screamed at him not to speak, but his body—nae his heart deemed otherwise. “I will not force ye, Eve, but ken this…I want ye like no other. ’Tis an aching need and grows with each passing day. Ye speak of torment, but mine burns.” He shifted his stance. “I will seek out the druid, Cathal and find a way to return ye to your own time. From this moment forward, I will nae bother ye.”

  “No,” she stated firmly. “Unacceptable.”

  He arched a brow, stunned by her words. “Nae?”

  She slowly made her way to him. When she stopped mere inches from him, her hand reached up and brushed away a lock of hair from his face. “What I mean…” She cleared her throat quickly. “I’m tired of being afraid, Cormac. Tired of fighting this desire between us. Tired of feeling I’m not worthy to be made love to.” She placed a trembling hand on his chest. “Take me to your chambers,” she blurted out.

  Cormac’s heart stopped for a second, unable to fathom Eve’s words. His breath caught as he read the passion in her gaze. Hands that were fisted tightly behind him reached out and crushed her against his chest. His mouth swooped down to capture hers, drinking in the sweetness of her lips. Her tongue teased along the edges of his, and Cormac groaned, deepening the kiss. When he broke free, he cupped her face. “Are ye sure, leannan?”

  “What does the word lea…leannan mean?” Eve whispered.

  He leaned near her ear. “Sweetheart.”

  She licked her lips and then nibbled his chin. “Make love to me, Cormac, please.”

  Never before had he desired a woman thus. She was a gift, opening herself to him, and he ached to unwrap and take what Eve offered.

  He kissed her soundly. “Wait here.” Opening the door, Cormac glanced down the corridor. Muffled noises came from the Great Hall, but all else was quiet.

  Motioning her outside, he quickly locked the cellar door. Cormac grabbed her hand, and made long strides toward his chambers. Hearing one of his men approach, he shoved them both into a tiny alcove. He wanted nae interruptions. Nae problems to solve. Only Eve’s soft body under his own.

  Feeling her shaking against his chest, he thought she might have reconsidered, until he determined she was laughing.

  “By the hounds, stop,” he whispered near her ear, “or I shall lift your gown and take ye against the stone wall.”

  Eve glanced up at him. “Standing? Really? Hmm…”

  He rolled his eyes.

  When the threat of someone seeing them passed, he pulled her along up the stairs. Cormac paused before his chamber. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he looked into her eyes. “Once I take ye inside these chambers, ye are mine, Eve. Do ye understand? Ye will be in my bed and no other.”

  “I am yours…tonight.”

  “Always,” he argued. When she started to object, he covered her mouth hungrily, silencing her words.

  Chapter Twelve

  “In the light of the pale dawn, the truth can be seen through the prism of the Yule colors.”

  Flinging open the door to his chambers, Cormac led her inside and swiftly closed the door. Bolting it firmly, he turned around and Eve flung herself into his arms. She took his mouth with savage intensity igniting a firestorm within his body. Her warm, sweet, lush lips made him crave more. His tongue stroked her bottom lip as his hands roamed over her, tugging at her laces.

  Cormac’s fingers shook as he tried to be gentle. “Turn around,” he ordered while nuzzling her neck. Pulling his sgian dubh out, he sliced through the bindings.

  “Cormac,” she gasped on a giggle.

  “Shh…I will fetch ye another.” Brushing a kiss to the nape of her neck, he watched Eve shiver.

  His finger trailed a path on her skin down her back. “Have I found a pleasure spot?” he asked while tugging her gown free from her shoulders.

  Eve glanced over her shoulder. The look she gave him pierced his soul. “Everywhere you touch gives me pleasure.”

  “I want to see ye naked, so I can kiss every inch of your body.” He turned her around to face him. She clutched the material to her chest. Cormac removed her hands, and the gown tumbled to the floor in a soft swish. A blush stained her face and spread down her neck as she placed her hands in front of her body.

  “Sweet Mother Danu…ye are beautiful, Eve.”

  “I don’t think I am,” she uttered softly.

  “Have ye never been told?”

  She shook her head, the curls bouncing everywhere. “No.”

  Cormac stepped closer, his fingers brushing away a lone curl from her breast. The rosy pert bud beckoned him to taste. “Then let me be the first. Ye are a Goddess, and dinnae let anyone tell ye otherwise.” Cupping her breast, he bent and flicked his tongue over the nipple before taking it fully into his mouth.

  Eve shuddered. “Oh my…”

  Trailing a path of kisses to the other breast, Cormac teased and savored the taste of Eve—sweet, like honeyed cakes, and he wanted to bury himself inside her. She squirmed and gasped, digging her fingers into his scalp.

  Lifting her into his arms, she placed her hands on his chest. “Not fair. Your clothes are still on,” she uttered softly.

  Lowering her slowly onto his bed, his eyes roamed over her body sprawled out on the furs. His smile became predatory. “So ye want to see me naked, aye?”

  “Yes,” she replied, partially parting her legs to reveal her hidden core.

  Cormac softly swore, fearing he would spill his seed right there. She had no idea the power she held over him. A mixture of shyness and siren, drawing him to her like no other. Quickly removing his tunic, he tossed it to the floor. Unlacing his trews, his swollen cock jutted free.

  “You’re magnificent,” she said, rising up on her knees. “May I touch you?”

  Her question resembled more of a plea, and he could only nod his reply.

  Scooting near the edge of the bed, she gently traced a finger down his length. Cormac let out a hiss and clenched his hands. His eyes followed
her movement as her hand went lower, cupping his aching balls.

  “So soft…and hard,” she said softly.

  When her hand returned to his cock and squeezed, stars danced before his eyes, the pleasure too much for him to bear. Grasping her hand, he pulled her back onto the furs and plundered her mouth, his hand caressing one breast, kneading and pulling on the pert nipple. He swallowed her moans, filling his lungs and wanting more. She drove him to madness.

  His fingers glided over the soft curves of her flesh—down her abdomen, across the swell of her hip, until they brushed over her curls. Parting her sweet flesh, Cormac dipped a finger inside. She was hot and wet, but he would nae take her, not yet. Taking his thumb, he swept a lazy circle around her womanly center, and she arched madly against his hand.

  “Cormac,” she cried out, placing her hand over his.

  “Does this please ye?” he growled.

  She whimpered on a nod.

  “Open your eyes, leannan.”

  Eve opened them slowly, and his breath hitched. “Ye have the most beautiful eyes. When ye are angry, they take on the colors of the green forest. But seeing ye spread out beneath me with desire flushed on your skin, the color reminds me of the grasses in the glen during spring.”

  “I never knew,” she said softly.

  Cormac removed his hand and placed it over hers. “Do ye like to pleasure yourself?”

  He smiled when she rewarded him with a blush that extended from her face to her breasts. Cormac watched in utter fascination as she moved her fingers over her womanly center. Her gaze never wavered from his, yet, when her breathing came out in short gasps, he drew her hand away.

  Lowering his head near her ear, he whispered. “Nae. Ye will come only when I am inside ye.”

  She reached for his strained cock, but he was faster and grabbed her hand.

  “You’re tormenting me, my laird.”

  He nipped the soft skin below her earlobe. “I have only begun, my leannan.”

  “Cormac,” she whimpered, as he feasted on her breasts.

  “Hmm…ye have the most delectable taste. I shall have to savor more,” he teased, glancing up to see her reaction.

  “Wh…what are you doing?” she gasped when his hands held her hips in place, and his tongue trailed a path down her stomach.