Bound by Song (Cauld Ane Series, #4)

by Piper Davenport

She led him into Maggie’s room to find her sitting up, remote control in hand, and channel surfing the television. “Okay, I didn’t think I’d ever say this, but I miss American TV, except the accents. I wish we could have the Scots do all our voiceovers and the news.”

  Grace laughed. “It’s good to see you’re exhibiting the same habits here. How do you feel?”

  “Honestly? I feel great. Better than I have since that first round of flu, actually. The pain in my arm is also gone. It’s so weird.” Maggie raised an eyebrow. “Do you think this trial is working?”

  “I think there’s a good chance it is,” Grace said. “Dr. Gunnach said you’d feel better pretty quickly if it was, right?”

  Maggie nodded.

  The shuffle of feet sounded and Grace’s parents and Spencer rushed through the door. “How are you, sweetheart?” her mother asked, taking Maggie’s hand.

  “I feel really good, Mom.”

  “Really?” Her mother frowned. “But you were in so much pain.”

  “They have really great meds,” Maggie said.

  Their mother bent over her and stroked her face. “You do look much better.”

  “Mom,” Maggie groaned. “I’m fine. Seriously.”

  “I thought you were going to rest, Grace,” her mother said. “You’ve barely been gone four hours.”

  “I did rest, Mom,” Grace said, and smiled. “Promise.”

  “Is this like the time back in ninth grade when—”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Wilson,” Samantha said, as she entered the room, cutting off the far-too-personal anecdote.

  “Saved by the bell,” Grace said.

  You’ll have to fill me in on what happened in the ninth grade, love.

  Never gonna happen, buddy.

  “I’m sorry we had to rush you from the room earlier,” Samantha said. “It seemed some of the medication we gave Maggie was quite intense. Which brings me to my news.”

  Their mother and father took hold of Maggie’s hands and Grace reached for Spencer’s.

  “Maggie will not be able to continue in the trial.”

  “What?” their father snapped. “Why the hell not?”

  “Dad,” Grace admonished. “Give her a chance to explain.”

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Samantha said. “The latest blood work shows that Maggie is cancer free.”

  “What?” their mother gasped. “In less than a month?”

  Samantha nodded. “It’ll take me some time to determine all of the facts, but as of now, she doesn’t have Leukemia. You must have been praying.”

  “I always thought doctors didn’t believe in miracles,” Spencer said.

  Samantha grinned. “Well, I for one, do. Anyway, we’ll keep Maggie overnight and then she’ll be released from the hospital tomorrow before lunch.”

  Grace’s mother let out a gleeful squeak and hugged Samantha. “Thank you, Dr. Gunnach. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure. Now, you folks get some rest. I have a feeling Max is going to want to show y’all a good time before you head back to the States.”

  “I most certainly do,” Max agreed.

  BECAUSE GRACE’S FAMILY was never very good at following instructions, the rest of the evening was spent joking around and planning what they would do in Edinburgh over the next few days. Max, Spencer, and Grace’s father retrieved the “best burgers in town,” according to Max, and Grace had to admit, they were pretty darn good.

  Once Maggie was released from the hospital, Max stayed true to his promise and guided the family all over Edinburgh, including an all-access tour of Edinburgh Castle, into rooms only docents and royalty were typically allowed into. He showered the family with attention and gave them a trip they’d never forget.

  When it was time for them to separate—the Wilsons to fly home, and Grace and Max to head to Inverness—Grace could hardly wait for Christmas. They’d promised to meet in Whitefish, Montana for the holidays. Grace’s grandparents had a home on the lake, and Max promised they wouldn’t miss it.

  Grace and Max waited at security until her family had to get to their gate. He’d ensured they were in first class, and Grace knew they’d never be able to top this trip, even though it had started out on such a sad note.

  “Don’t cry, honey. We’re going to see you in a couple of months,” her mother said.

  “I know, but still, I’m going to miss my Mama,” Grace said as she hugged her.

  “You better.”

  Grace giggled through the tears and hugged her father and Spencer and Maggie. Max did the same and then wrapped his arm around Grace’s waist, forcing her not to run after her family.

  When her family was out of sight, Max guided her out of the main entrance and to where Bruce waited to drive them to the private runway. She didn’t say much as they arrived at Max’s plane and boarded, but her melancholy started to lift as they took their seats.

  “We’ll call them as soon as we get home,” Max promised.

  “Flight attendants, prepare for take-off,” the captain said over the loud speaker.

  Grace smiled as she buckled her seatbelt. She was no longer nervous about flying and had actually grown quite accustomed to the private plane. “I’m okay, baby. I just needed a minute to adjust. It’s weird being more than ten minutes from them, you know?”

  “I know. Your whole life has changed within a matter of a few months.”

  She took his hand. “In the absolute best of ways. And now I get to see our home, which I cannot wait to fill with babies.”

  He kissed her. “Thank you for calling it ‘our’ home. Please feel free to change anything you want.”

  “Are you really not going to tell me anything about it?” She frowned. “Not even when it was built?”

  “It was finished in 1901.” He smiled. “I like to say it was started in the Victorian era and completed in the Edwardian...makes it sound very posh.”

  Grace laughed. “Or very pretentious.”

  He nodded. “Aye, that too, probably. I love you.”

  “Not more than I love you.”

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure I out-love you.”

  She shook her head. “Not possible.”

  “As soon as we level off, I’m going to prove it.”

  She gasped. “Why, Mr. MacMillan, are you inviting me to join the Mile-High Club?”

  Max leaned over and kissed her. “Yes, Mrs. MacMillan, I am.”

  Grace clapped her hands. “I hope you can show me several of the activities available with my membership.”

  “I’ll be happy to demonstrate as many as time allows.”

  She laughed. “Well, Mr. MacMillan, I must let your boss know how attentive a tour guide you are.”

  “No need for that. You can just show me your appreciation.”

  The seatbelt sign clicked off and Max unbuckled them both and pushed her gently down the hallway and into their private bedroom.

  After tugging off her T-shirt, he unzipped her jeans and pushed them down her hips, panties and all. He knelt in front of her and pressed his face into her pussy, running his thumb along her clit.

  “Max,” she rasped, sliding her hands into his hair.

  “Spread, baby.”

  She did, and he pressed his fingers against her opening, then slid three inside of her. Grace dropped her head back, gripping his head harder to keep herself upright.

  He replaced his mouth with his thumb, standing and kissing her as he guided her onto the bed, continuing to finger fuck her to oblivion. “Max, I can’t wait.”

  “Don’t wait,” he retorted, but moved between her legs again and covered her core with his mouth.

  His fingers pumped into her as he sucked her clit, but when he bit down gently, Grace cried out, gripping his hair as she came.

  He lapped at her, then kissed one thigh then the other. “Fuckin’ honey, baby.”

  “More.”

  Max grinned, standing and removing his clothing before hovering over he
r and slipping inside of her. Grace wrapped her legs around him and lifted up to get closer.

  Max sat up on his knees, taking her with him, staying connected and slid his hand to her neck, tugging her forward to kiss her. Grace anchored her hands on his shoulders so she could move...lifting up and down, and riding him while she fucked his mouth with her tongue.

  When she felt her climax build, Max gripped her hips and stilled her movements.

  Wait.

  She growled, still ramming her tongue into his mouth and gripping his hair as she fought against his hold. He chuckled in her mind, sucking her tongue gently as he ran his hands over her ass.

  Max.

  You need something?

  She pulled back, cupping his face and frowning. “You will fucking make me come right now or you and I are gonna have a problem.”

  Max dropped his head back and laughed, but he did shift her onto her back so he could bury himself deeper, if not slower.

  “Max!” she hissed.

  “Harder, baby?”

  “Yes, Max, harder, damn it.”

  He grinned, slamming into, not stopping until she exploded, kissing him again and smiling like a well-fed kitten. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

  Max kissed her again and then he spent the next two hours proving just how much he loved her and showing her all the benefits the Mile-High Club had to offer.

  * * *

  Bruce drove the couple through the double iron gates at the entrance of Max’s property, and Max pulled a necktie from his pocket.

  Grace raised an eyebrow. “What is that for?”

  He grinned. “Not what you think, although, we can certainly use it later if you like.”

  “Naughty man.” She bit her lip. “But, yes, please. Later let’s have some fun.”

  She saw him swallow and bit back a squeal of joy. Her title of sex kitten was firmly back in place.

  “For now, it’s a makeshift blindfold.” Max smiled. “Close your eyes.”

  She did as he asked and he wrapped the tie over her eyes, securing it gently but firmly around her head. When the car stopped, Max kissed her cheek. “Stay right here. I’ll come and get you.”

  Grace nodded and waited until she felt his hands grip hers.

  “Okay, love, slide forward and set your feet on the ground.”

  She did.

  “Good. Now, watch your head.” Max put his hand on her head and helped her from the car. “Keep your eyes closed.”

  Grace nodded and waited as he untied her blindfold.

  “Open,” he whispered, kissing her neck.

  Grace let out a quiet gasp. The whitewashed brick of the massive house gleamed in the sun. Ivy wove its way up one side of the house, adding to the historical façade, while the cobblestone courtyard offered the perfect welcome that led to the blue seven-foot-tall, six-foot-wide double doors at the front.

  “Oh, Max. It’s magnificent,” she said as tears filled her eyes.

  “Do you think so?” He frowned. “Why are you crying?”

  “You don’t understand,” she said, and wiped her tears. “Bruce, may I have that little plaid bag, please.”

  “Aye, ma’am.”

  He opened the trunk and pulled Grace’s bag out for her, laying it on top of the car hood for easy access. She unzipped it and pulled out the battered manila envelope her mother had given her with the mementos from her childhood. She rifled through it, found what she was looking for, and handed it to Max. “Look.”

  Max gently unfolded the picture and studied it.

  “I drew that. When I was seven. For whatever reason, Mom felt compelled to keep it. Look at it.”

  “I am, baby,” he said, and held it up.

  The house, drawn in crayon, was almost identical to his. Not quite as large as Max’s home, and with a few minor differences, but blue front doors and whitewashed brick, and a weather vane in the shape of a rooster on the roof.

  “Turn it over,” she instructed.

  He did and grinned. On the back, in Grace’s childish handwriting, was Lady Grace Annabelle Wilson’s house.

  “I obviously assumed I’d keep my maiden name when I got married,” she said.

  He laughed. “Well, welcome home, Lady Grace Annabelle Wilson MacMillan.”

  She giggled through the tears and threw herself into his arms. “I love you, Laird Maximilian George MacMillan.”

  As Max lifted her into his arms and carried her over the threshold of her new home, Grace sent up a silent prayer of thanks for the man she could have never imagined was real and for the joy she knew would last a lifetime.

  * * *

  NORTHERN LIGHTS

  Fallen Crown featuring Grace MacMillan

  (Single available at: iTunes, Amazon, and CD Baby)

  We searched until you were falling asleep

  As I’m growing on you like a weed

  The wine we’re drinking makes you talk in cursive

  And I just want to drink you in

  Looking up

  My search is done

  The Northern Lights will lead you on

  The Northern Lights will guide you home

  I’ll never worship the ground you walk on

  I see more beauty in the cracks in your pavement

  The lines you’re pouring taste of haunted memories

  Still I want to drink you in

  Looking up

  My search is done

  The Northern Lights will lead you on

  The Northern Lights will guide you home

  Colors flash in the sky

  They burn in our souls tonight

  Light up like the stars in your eyes

  For just you and I

  The Northern Lights will lead you on - lead you on

  The Northern Lights will guide you home - home to me

  Copyright © 2016 by Tracey Jane Jackson

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States

  Aspiring actress Charlotte Whitmore has been plagued by bizarre recurring dreams for years. But now she’s hearing a strange voice when she’s awake. To make matters worse, her Hollywood ambitions have flat lined. After one rejection too many, she moves home to press the reset button on her life.

  World-renowned drummer Niall MacMillan’s world has been rocked by his brother’s betrayal. Still struggling to distinguish fact from fiction, he welcomes the distraction offered by the beautiful woman pulling him into her dreams.

  When Niall and Charlotte finally meet face-to-face, she is unwilling to believe he’s her destiny. And when Charlotte’s dreams suddenly materialize into reality, Niall finds himself defending her against an ancient and powerful, yet all-too-familiar enemy.

  Will Charlotte let down her guard and allow Niall to love her?

  Will Niall be able to protect Charlotte from the danger that threatens the only world she’s ever known?

  CHAPTER ONE

  Anaheim, California

  Three Months Ago

  CHARLOTTE WHITMORE STOOD in the ladies’ dressing room of Disneyland’s staff area and ended a rather frustrating phone call with her best friend, Grace Wilson. Charlotte’s thoughts ran rampant as she processed the fact that Grace had just been visited by the object of Charlotte’s own desires... Niall MacMillan, the incomparable drummer for her favorite band, Fallen Crown. Well, technically, his brother Max had visited Grace, but Niall had been with him, and Charlotte scowled in irritation that she wasn’t there too.

  She sighed and adjusted her Princess Ariel costume as she stared at herself in the mirror. She supposed she should be grateful she was wearing the dress rather than the tail, but still, it seemed like adding insult to injury that she was being forced to portray the most pathetic princess in the Disney lineup.

  “Stupid, vapid girl who sells her soul to an evil witch for a boy,” she muttered to herself as she walked out of the dressing room in search of her “prince.”

  Charlotte had moved to Los Angeles six years ago in
an attempt to “make it” as an actress, but with blondes aplenty and roles not so abundant, her dream meant working at Disneyland. She enjoyed her job, crazy as that might sound, she really loved the variety...except for today. She would have much preferred to be hiding in the air-conditioned back office rather than out in the cancer-beckoning sun.

  “Hey, Charlie,” Don called.

  Don Leavitt was six feet tall, blond-haired, blue-eyed, and also trying to make it as an actor. He and Charlotte met when they moved into their apartments across the hall from each other on the same day. He was what most women swooned over, but not Charlotte. She leaned toward the dark-haired, blue-eyed, drummer variety. Besides, after two failed relationships, one of which put her in the hospital, she’d put dating on hold.

  The bottom line was, she wasn’t a serial dater, but she was also away from her family and Grace, which meant she didn’t have anyone giving her daily reality checks...and Lord knows, you won’t find any kind of reality in L.A. During her hospitalization Don had sat vigil by her bedside and then spent a week fawning over her. He’d become the brother she’d never had and the confidante she really needed at the time.

  “Hey, Donnie.” She chuckled at his dark wig. “Your hair’s crooked.”

  “Dang it,” he said, and faced the mirror, shifting Prince Eric’s wig. “Good?”

  Charlotte nodded. “Much better.”

  “Ready to look like you’d sell your soul for me?”

  “Oh, you’re hilarious.”

  “Thank you, m’lady. I’m here all week.” He gave a princely bow and smiled. “So. What’s new in the land of Charlotte? We haven’t talked in over a week.”

  “I know,” she said. “So very unlike us. Let’s see. Um, Grace just called to tell me that half of Fallen Crown showed up at church.”

  “Fallen Crown the band?” Don asked. “Didn’t she meet them in Scotland?”

  “Yep, she sure did...which is why we hate her, right?”

  Don laughed. “Right. I hate your best friend...whom I’ve never met.”

  “Good answer. Anyway, the lead singer and his dreamy brother made a special trip, apparently to visit her.”

  “Wow. She must have made an impression.” Don cocked his head. “Of course, from the many pictures I’ve seen, she is super hot, so I can see why she would.”