Cowboys and Highlanders

by Scott, Tarah

  Kiernan rammed an elbow into Ty's shoulder. Phoebe spied Ty's pistol lying on the floor near her foot and she snatched up the weapon. The two men were on their feet again. She pointed the weapon at Ty as Mather reached her side.

  "No, Lady Ashlund." He eased the weapon downward. "You might hit His Lordship and I've worked far too hard this evening to keep him from getting shot."

  The duke appeared in the doorway, a revolver in hand, as Kiernan's fist slammed Ty's jaw. The blow lifted her cousin off his feet and slammed him into the coffee table. Wood splintered and he went limp.

  "What in bloody hell is going on?" the duke demanded.

  Phoebe glimpsed Elise in the hallway. He glanced back at her, then looked back at Kiernan.

  "We have Mr. Branbury's killer," Kiernan said in a dark voice that sent a shiver down her back. "I'll explain all—" he glanced at Phoebe, eyes dark with fury "—tomorrow."

  In three paces, he was at her side and grabbed her arm. "What the hell happened?"

  "I fell asleep in the library when Ty—"

  "The library?" he cut in.

  Ty groaned.

  Kiernan looked at Mather. "Mather, if you please. I believe Richard has a cell reserved for the baron."

  "With pleasure, sir."

  Mather strode to where Ty stirred, then seized him by the collar and dragged him to his feet. Ty swayed but stood on his own when Mather released him.

  "Can't have that," Mather said, and threw a hard uppercut to Ty's jaw. Ty crumpled to the floor, then Mather hauled him over his shoulder and started for the door. "Your Grace," he said as he passed the duke. "Ma'am," he nodded to the duchess, and disappeared down the hall.

  Kiernan's grip on Phoebe's arm tightened. "Lady Ashlund, I warned you what would happen if I returned home to find you anywhere but in my bed."

  She flushed. "Sir, I—"

  He dragged her to the couch near the window and dropped onto the cushion, hauling her over his lap, and yanking her nightgown up over her buttocks. She gasped.

  "Kiernan," Elise began.

  "Lass," the duke cut in, and Phoebe snapped her head in their direction. The duke gave his wife a warning shake of his head.

  Embarrassed warmth spread up Phoebe's cheeks. She couldn't believe it. The duke was going to stand by while his son spanked her bare bottom!

  Kiernan's hold on her waist tightened. She twisted in an effort to break free, but his arm pinned her more tightly to his lap. A slap sounded before the stinging registered in her mind. Before she could yelp, his broad palm again connected with the sensitive skin of her buttocks.

  "Release me!" She thrashed.

  He smacked her again.

  "MacGregor," she shouted. "I will put a bullet through your—" Another slap followed, harder this time. "That hurts!"

  Kiernan gave yet another stinging swat, then shoved to his feet, dragging her with him. She jerked her head up, eyes narrowed in fury.

  He lifted a brow. "I believe you know what is to follow."

  Confusion gave way to understanding. "You had best never untie me, for I will brain you in your sleep."

  He gave a nod. "I am pleased that your plans include me. Come along."

  She dug in her heels, but he hugged her to his side and forced her to match step with him. "Father," he said as they neared the door. He smiled at the duchess, who stared wide-eyed. "Elise."

  Once through the doorway, Kiernan lifted Phoebe so that her feet left the carpet. She gave him a hard kick, but he didn't slow, and instead took the stairs two at a time. They reached his room and he strode to the bed. Kiernan dropped her feet onto the floor only to grab the waist of her nightgown.

  Phoebe realized his intent. "I beg—"

  Fabric covered her mouth and blocked her vision. She brought her arms down in an attempt to thwart him, but heard a rip and relented. Kiernan yanked the nightgown from over her head, then pushed her onto the mattress. He snatched a handkerchief from his pocket and swung a leg over her hips. His weight pinned her to the mattress and Phoebe found herself facing the thick bulge in his trousers.

  *****

  Kiernan finished tying Phoebe's hands to the bedpost, then straightened to survey his handiwork. Her arms were stretched back over her head, causing her breasts to jut forward in daring invitation. The base of his engorged cock pressed her flat belly with a need that bordered on pain. For a horrifying instant, when he'd seen her in Arlington's grip, Kiernan thought he'd lost her and he'd gone out of his mind. Yet even her here, safe, he still teetered on the edge of losing his mind.

  He braced his palms on each side of her and brought his face close to hers.

  "Beware, my lord," she said in a soft voice.

  His cock jumped.

  Kiernan shoved to his feet and slid his gaze over the curve of her breasts and down her belly. When his gaze reached the blonde curls that disappeared into the juncture between her legs his erection beat against the constraints of his trousers as if it had a mind of its own. When it came to Phoebe that wasn't far from the truth.

  He brought his eyes back to her face to find her staring with…boredom? Damnation, the little hellcat was challenging him. That's what she'd been doing when she chose the library instead of his bed. Kiernan shucked his coat then yanked loose the knot on his cravat. With slow deliberation, he slid the cloth from his neck, tossed it aside then unfastened the buttons on his shirt. When he shoved the fabric off his shoulders, her gaze dropped to his chest.

  Kiernan let the shirt fall, then unfastened his trousers. He kept his attention on her face, but her eyes remained fixed on his fingers as he freed the last button and shoved the trousers down and over his hips. Her mouth parted and, when she swallowed, his erection pulsed. She gave a small gasp and it was all he could do to keep from mounting and fucking her like a wild bull. Kiernan forced his breathing to slow and lowered himself onto her.

  Her full curves melted beneath him. His heart raced and he covered a breast with his palm. The nipple pressed into his hand and he watched her face as he kneaded the warm flesh. She wiggled beneath him and for an instant he thought he would spend himself on her belly.

  "I think some movement is required, sir."

  Kiernan stilled. "What's that you say?"

  "You are awfully…large."

  Was she talking about his body or his cock?

  Kiernan urged her legs apart and settled his hips between her thighs. "We'll start with an heir," he said.

  Gently, he reminded himself as he fitted the tip of his penis to the opening of her channel. God, but he wanted to drive into her until she screamed his name.

  "Once he's safe in the nursery," he went on, "a daughter will follow." Her slick folds allowed easy entrance and her gasp when he inched inside caused his scrotum to contract. "After that," he kissed her cheek, "we'll get you fat with my third child." He slid a wet kiss from her cheek to her ear, and drove hilt deep in one hard thrust.

  She drew a sharp breath.

  Kiernan lifted onto his elbows and looked at her. "What have you to say now, wife?"

  She stared up at him. "I say that puts me exactly where I predicted: at your beck and call."

  He shook his head. "No, love. That puts me at your beck and call."

  Kiernan reached up and yanked free the handkerchief that bound her hands.

  Her eyes narrowed. "What sort of knot was that? A highwayman's hitch, I wager."

  He lifted a brow. "Only a highwayman would use a highwayman's hitch?"

  She nodded and Kiernan moved inside her in slow, easy strokes.

  "By heavens," she said in a breathless voice that wound through him like a siren's song. "I suppose that'll do."

  "Will it?" he asked.

  She nodded and wound her arms around his neck.

  "Do you think you might one day love me?" he asked.

  Her breasts rose and fell with the quickening of her breath. "That depends."

  "Depends on what?" Kiernan drew a nipple into his mouth.

  She si
ghed. "Whether or not you can keep my ennui at bay."

  Kiernan snapped his head up. "Ennui, you say?"

  She nodded and he felt that same sense of helplessness he'd felt that moment he'd entered her coach. There was only one answer. He stroked faster in her channel. Pleasure mounted.

  "Do you like that, love?" he asked.

  "Yes," she whispered with an arch of her hips that met his thrust.

  "Then I am certain I can keep your boredom at bay—and so much more."

  Her gaze locked with his. "All right, then," she whispered. "I love you."

  That was all Kiernan needed to hear.

  # # #

  From the Author

  I admit that I like leaving a story with the hero and heroine in bed. This is romance, after all, and what better way to face the future than in each other's arms?

  And remember, "Where there is love, there is life." Mahatma Ghandi.

  Ciao!

  Tarah

  Afterward

  For those who might think that I allowed my imagination to run rampant with government conspiracies, mass assassinations, and revolutions, I refer you to the book Enemies of the State: The Cato Street Conspiracy by M. J. Trow, which was a major source for the history I used in My Highland Lord. Years ago, when I wrote the first draft of this book, there was very little information available on The Cato Street Conspiracy. Now, however, there are a few good books like Mr. Trow's Enemies of the State, and they prove once again that fact is far stranger than fiction. Of course, I only touched upon the intricate web woven by the British government in an effort to maintain the status quo during The Cato Street Conspiracy, and the lengths to which so-called radicals were willing to go in order to achieve their revolutions. I took a few liberties and added a character or two in order to tell Phoebe and Kiernan's story, but the history is solid. I hope you found it as interesting as I did.

  About the Author

  Award winning author Tarah Scott cut her teeth on authors such as Georgette Heyer, Zane Grey, and Amanda Quick. Her favorite book is a Tale of Two Cities, with Gone With the Wind as a close second. She writes modern classical romance, and paranormal and romantic suspense. Tarah grew up in Texas and currently resides in Westchester County, New York with her daughter.

  Also by Tarah Scott

  Claimed

  Sometimes, the hero must be the villain...

  Fourteen months ago, Lady Rhoslyn lost her husband and infant son to a fever. Now, by order of King Edward I, she is yanked from the healing tranquility of a convent to marry the king’s favored bastard knight. Rhoslyn has no intention of returning to the home where her husband and child died. Neither does she intend to hand over her fortune to the ‘Dragon’—no matter his sweet promises and warm kisses.

  Talbot St. Claire tires of war. Seventeen years is enough. King Edward will never release him from service, but the king promises Talbot will find some peace in front of his own hearth. Talbot expects to find a horse-faced, hostile woman in the Scottish heiress Edward commands him to marry. Instead, he discovers a fiery Highland beauty worthy of a man’s respect...and love. Talbot determines to do anything to win his new bride’s acceptance. Anything except the one thing she demands: betray his king and embrace his Scottish heritage.

  My Highland Love

  Voted Indie Romance Convention Readers Choice Award's best historical romance of 2013

  How does a woman tell her betrothed that she murdered her first husband?

  Shipwrecked in the Scottish Highlands, American heiress Elise Kingston quietly plans revenge for the deaths of her daughter and the brother who sacrificed his life to save her.

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  Elise is shocked by her need for Marcus and, too late, discovers that her feelings make him a target of her enemy—a man powerful enough to destroy even a Scottish nobleman.

  My Highland Lord

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  Phoebe Wallington was seven years old when a mass assassination attempt rocked Regency England. Her father was the only accused traitor to elude capture. Seventeen years later, the one man who could prove her father's innocence is dead. Now as a grown woman and a British spy, she's no closer to learning what really happened that day.

  Phoebe's quest for the truth takes a sudden turn when she's kidnapped by a suspected traitor. But Kiernan MacGregor, the Marquess of Ashlund, may not live long enough to stand trial. Someone wants him dead…and Phoebe stands in the killer's way. The only way to save her reputation and protect Kiernan is to marry him.

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  A midnight race for freedom leads Victoria Hockley, the Countess of Lansbury, to a churchyard deep in the Scottish Highlands. But not even hallowed ground can save her from the devil who’s pursued her from England, or from the furious Scot who swears to protect her.

  Iain MacPherson swore he was nothing like his father, but his kidnapping of Victoria Hockley shows the same kind of obsessive jealousy that sent his mother to an early grave. Now Iain has hell to pay, and the devil may very well be the noble English lass who has bewitched his very soul…

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  As whore for the Duchess of Arundel, Lady Riana Ellis keeps her sister safe from the duke’s lascivious desires. Now the duchess demands that Riana murder the man already sent to her bed.

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  Two murderers.

  Two demands for the promised payment of marriage.

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  Which one will bed her, claim her...own her?

  When a Rose Blooms

  This is a twenty page short story.

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  Taran Robertson, Viscount of Blackhall, makes no secret that he despises his obligation to marry the Sassenach heiress chosen for him by his father. As a last foray before his wedding, he attends a masque. However, the spirited vixen he meets and seduces has secrets...secrets that just may reveal he’s to have an improper wife.

  Double Bang!

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