Daddy Biker: MC Romance

by Sadie Savage

  The trip seemed endless, each day felt like she would just be traveling forever, never really getting anywhere. The idea of running still occurred to her each day. Her thoughts whirled with considerations of where she could go and how she could survive. She could cut her hair, strap down her chest and don the clothing of a man. She was good enough with a sword to pass herself off with the best of them. Still, it was frightening to consider. The question was really just if it was more frightening than the destination toward which she traveled.

  “Finally!”

  She looked out the window as the carriage pulled to a halt in front of the great castle belonging to Lord MacEwan. It was quite the sight with its large towers and heavily guarded walls. To Alva, it looked more like a prison than a place to be happy. She doubted that she could ever see such a place as home. As the door opened, she found that she was greeted by Lord MacEwan himself, standing just outside of it with a large smile and open arms.

  “Ah, there is my beautiful bride. It is so nice to have you arrived for our blessed nuptials. Shall we get you settled in and then partake in a bit of celebration?”

  “Thank you. Of course. That would be divine.”

  It wasn’t divine. It wasn’t at all, but she had no choice but to play the role she had been assigned. Lord MacEwan was not unattractive, but there was something about him, something dark and sinister. He was well known to be a ruthless pillager and unyielding overlord to the people that inhabited the lands surrounding his castle. He was feared by all and liked by none. He was not the sort of man to which Alva had ever considered she would be married. She silently cursed her father once more and feigned happiness as she was led up to her chambers.

  Her arrival was celebrated with great fanfare. Lord MacEwan had arranged for the local society types to come out for a great feast to welcome her with open arms. So far, it wasn’t too bad, but she still felt incredibly nervous and sullen about the entire situation. Though he was quite pleasant to her, there was something amiss about him. She had sensed it the first time they had met and it was even stronger now that she had arrived at his palace.

  It didn’t take long to see exactly what the problem was. Lord MacEwan was nothing in private like he was in public. The hospitable, considerate man that had greeted her was just a façade for the cold, rude man that confronted her behind closed doors. She shrank back a bit as he issued orders for how she would and would not behave within the walls of his home. It was quite obvious that this place truly never would be her home, only his. She didn’t belong here, but that is something she had known prior to her arrival.

  “Make no mistake. You aren’t exactly the sort of woman I intended to marry. You’re attractive enough, I will give you that, but you have the manners of an uneducated tart and I won’t tolerate being embarrassed by you. You will attend private classes I have set up from a proper Lady in hopes that you might learn how to present yourself.”

  “There is nothing wrong with my manners!”

  “There is everything wrong with your manners. If you had any, you would know that it is not proper to address me with such sullen indignation. I have no time for such games.”

  “Games? You insulted me! I’m not allowed to defend my own honor?”

  “You are not allowed to talk back to me. I assure you that I will not hesitate to lash your backside for it. Also, I won’t have any of this nonsense of your sword fighting. It is improper and it is not allowed.”

  “You can’t tell me what I can and cannot do!”

  “Oh, but I can and I just did. You and I will be married tomorrow and you will do exactly as I tell you. Don’t forget that the peace between your clan and mine depends on this union. It would be a shame for your stubbornness to bring about harm to your kin. If you think for a moment that I will hesitate to break the peace treaty just because you bat your eyelashes at me, then you are sorely mistaken. You mean nothing to me. I was in need of a bride and your father was cowardly enough to hand over his only daughter in exchange for my not slaughtering your entire clan. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  Alva glared at him but said nothing. There was really nothing she could say that would make a difference. There was really nothing she could do. If she talked back, if she ran, if she did anything to cross him, her family would pay the price. Though her brothers were wolf shifters and usually very capable of taking care of themselves in battle, they had never had to battle dragons. If what was said of the MacEwan clan was true, it might be a match they could not win.

  “Very well. I will do as you ask, but only because I really haven’t a choice it seems.”

  “I am glad we have come to an understanding. I will have a servant show you back to your quarters. I suggest you remain there for the rest of the evening and not burden me with your presence.

  “That suits me just fine. Have a pleasant evening.”

  Alva tried to keep her tone polite and respectful, though she was seething inside. This place would be misery for her. Already she missed her brothers and her father. Tomorrow was a dreaded day. Once she was married to Lord MacEwan, he would expect things of a carnal nature from her. The thought made her skin crawl. The man didn’t even like her and would paw at her like the animal he was. There wasn’t much she found more revolting than the thought of pleasuring the likes of him.

  As the sun rose the next day, Alva found herself feeling quite ill. It was all she could do to get out of bed and begin getting ready for the big day. Within moments of her rising, the room was flooded with giddy servant girls, all eager to help her into her wedding gown and do her hair. They doted on her as if she were a princess, something Alva had never been or wanted to be. Though when they were done and she looked at herself in the large mirror standing to one side of the room, she had to admit, she looked the part. Other than the terrible emptiness she could see in her own eyes, she was quite the perfect bride.

  “Ah, there is my beautiful betrothed!”

  Alva turned toward the sound of Lord MacEwan’s voice. He was dressed in a very fine suit sewn with rich mahogany and gold threading. His boots were polished to a sparkle. He wasn’t a bad looking man, but it did nothing to hide what he was beneath his handsome exterior. She had heard about his raids upon nearby villages under the guise of cleaning up the realm. They were nothing more than pillagings as far as she was concerned. It was a condition of the marriage that they be stopped. She reminded herself of the good coming from this union as she feigned a smile in return.

  “Do you find me suitable for the day then?”

  He frowned at her. Though she had said it in the most pleasant manner, the sarcastic meaning had not escaped him. Rather than replying, he turned neatly and walked away. Alva smiled to herself a bit as she heard this boots retreating down the nearby steps. Hopefully, he would not return before the ceremony. The less she saw of him, the better it would be.

  The wedding itself was beautiful. If Alva had wanted to wed in the first place, she could imagine that this might have been a dream wedding for any girl. Instead, it felt more like a death sentence and her veil, a shroud. It was all she could do to maintain her composure without crying until it was done, reciting her vows through clenched teeth and smiling broadly as the priest pronounced them man and wife. Once the despicable deed was done, they turned and presented themselves to the crowd in attendance.

  A loud cheer went up through the guests as the newly married couple made their way back down the aisle to a grand reception in the great hall of the castle. Alva played her part as expected, dying a little inside as she thought of the wedding night that would follow. Though she had dated a little, she had never done experienced more than a light kiss from a suitor at the end of the outting. Now, here she was about to be most personal with a man she barely knew, husband or not. Her thoughts were disrupted by a man’s voice behind her.

  “We haven’t met.”

  Alva turned to see the most beautiful man she thought she had ever laid eyes on. His flaxen curly hair was pulled back i
n a loose knot, but strands of it fell around his chiseled jawline. The light seemed to dance in his playful blue eyes as he looked at her thoughtfully and smiled, perfect white teeth visible beyond soft, full lips. He was tall and muscular. Mostly, he was just breathtaking.

  “I suppose we haven’t. Alva McCraig. Well, I suppose I am Lady MacEwan now.”

  “Heath MacEwan. It is a pleasure to meet my new sister in law.”

  “Oh! You are Lord MacEwan’s brother! I didn’t know you had made it for the ceremony.”

  “Yes. A bit late, as usual. It’s a bit of a family joke that I’m never anywhere on time. I apologize for my tardiness. I actually made only the very end of the nuptials. You are quite a striking bride.”

  “Thank you.”

  The two of them stood for a moment wordlessly, just looking at one another. There was an odd chemistry in the air about them. Alva felt like she was being pulled to him in a way she couldn’t describe. Just as quickly as the feeling had come over her, it was dispelled by the appearance of her new husband.

  “Well, I see you have met my new bride, brother. I’m surprised you made it before our first child was born.”

  A shudder went through Alva and she shivered visibly. Lord MacEwan seemed to miss it, but his brother didn’t. She noticed that he looked at her and smiled a little before looking back at his brother.

  “Always so quick with the acerbic wit. That’s why I do love you so, brother.”

  “I’m sure. How long do you intend to stay here on our good graces then, Heath?”

  “I don’t know. I had just intended to pop in for your wedding nuptials and then be on my way, but I think now I might just stay a while. I trust you have plenty of room for your darling brother?”

  Alva could feel Heath looking in her direction as he said the words and thought she might blush right there in front of the both of them. Instead, she excused herself, making her way far enough away to break the spell cast about her by Heath’s mere presence. What was it about him that she found so irresistible? It wasn’t as if it mattered. She was now a married woman and he was her husband’s brother. Still, he did something to her when he was near. It had been instantaneous.

  The celebration went on for hours, leaving Alva exhausted. She had gotten little rest between her travels here, yesterday’s celebration and today’s wedding events. All she wanted to do was sleep, but she suspected that wouldn’t be on her agenda either. When she finally made it to her room, she sat brushing her hair in front of the mirror in her sleeping gown. A sense of dread was knotted up in her stomach, causing her to feel positively ill. When she heard Lord MacEwan’s footsteps approaching, she was terribly afraid she was going to purge at any moment.

  “I think that was just a lovely wedding, don’t you?”

  “Yes. I’d say that it was a spectacular event. You put on a grand show. I’ll give you that.”

  He approached her, his hand reaching out to brush away some hair from her shoulder. His face was only inches from hers and she waited for him to kiss her, praying that she could get through this. Instead, she heard his voice, clear and concise, in her ear.

  “Don’t worry, my dear wife. You’ll not be suffering my loins this evening or any other until I feel it is time to bear a child. Only then will I stomach the likes of your flesh. You are hardly my type. You will maintain separate quarters and you will tell no one that you remain untouched by your dearly devoted husband.”

  With that, he turned and left the room. Alva stood looking after him, bewildered. A part of her was relieved that he had no intention of fouling her this day, but it was still very confusing that he had no desire to consummate the marriage. Instead of pondering the reasons, she elected to be grateful. She suddenly felt a lot more lighthearted. She would worry about that whole child bearing thing when it became necessary.

  The following morning, she made her way downstairs to venture out onto the grounds. Lord MacEwan had already left to see to some business that would take him away for at least a week, so she would have the run of the place while he was gone. It was a lovely day and she thought that going for a ride might be nice. It wasn’t something she was sure he would let her do when he was here, so best to take the opportunity while he was away.

  “What are you doing, Lady MacEwan?”

  Alva turned to find herself looking into the smiling face of Heath. He stood leaning against the inner walls of the stable, watching as she examined the horses to determine which might be suitable to take out for a ride. They were beautiful animals, the finest stock, but being out on the wrong horse could be dangerous for a woman riding alone. She was about to seek out a stable hand to prepare a suitable beast when she found herself face to face with Heath.

  “I thought I might go for a ride, but I know nothing of these horses. I’m not sure which one I should take.”

  “Well, then you are lucky I am here. I was thinking of taking a ride myself.”

  “Then, you will join me?”

  Alva wasn’t sure why the idea made her feel so giddy, or maybe she was sure but refused to acknowledge it. She was attracted to Heath in a way that she certainly didn’t feel for her husband. In all honesty, it was probably best that she keep her distance. Looking at him standing there smiling back at her, she knew she wouldn’t do so.

  “I think it sounds like a most wonderful idea.”

  Heath called in one of the stable hands to prepare two of the horses for riding while he chatted with her to one side of the stable.

  “I hear that you are an excellent swords woman, Lady MacEwan.”

  “Please. I feel like someone’s old aunt. Call me Alva.”

  “Very well. Alva it shall be.”

  “I am okay with a sword I suppose.”

  “Better than just okay from what I am told. I’d love to see a demonstration of your skills.”

  “Nothing would delight me more, but your brother has forbidden it now that we are wed.”

  “He did, did he?”

  “Yes. He was very adamant about my being a lady.”

  “Of course. Appearances are everything to my brother, after all. I tell you what. Let’s have a little secret. You and I will practice on our ride. We can go out to the moors and no one will see.”

  “Really? I would adore that. Are you sure he won’t find out? If I do anything to break the peace between our clans . . ..”

  “Peace? Is that how he conned such a sweet and beautiful woman into marrying the likes of him? I should have known it was not for the sake of love. I mean, I am assuming you don’t love him.”

  “Love him? I hardly even know him. I only saw him once before I came here to be married to him. My father arranged this.”

  “It all makes perfect sense then. Enough of this small talk about unfortunate events. Let’s ride, shall we?”

  The ride through the woods and onto the moors well beyond them was euphoric. Alva felt like she was as free as the wind that whirled about her. They settled into an area blanketed all around by a thicket of trees. If anyone were to happen into the area, they should well hear them in the branches before they reached them. Tying off the horses to a nearby tree, the two prepared to fight. Alva was unhappy without her own sword, but the spare one he had brought would have to do.

  The time flew by as they sparred playfully with one another. Heath was an expert swordsman himself and was very good with pointers on how to improve her stance and thrust. She loved that he didn’t come across as condescending or act as if she was less inept because she was female.

  “Here, let me show you something.”

  Alva watched as he lay down his sword and walked over to where she was standing. Walking around her, he put his arms around her and took both her hands in his, positioning the sword they held and demonstrating a well-balanced swing designed to disrupt her opponents grip on his weapon. As he moved with her, his body pressed gently against hers, his muscles rippling as he flexed upward. It sent a shiver through her that didn’t go unnoticed. He stepp
ed away and turned to face her.

  “Are you cold out here?”

  “Um, no. I just had a chill. It passed.”

  He looked down at her, searching her face and then something unexpected happened. Before Alva realized what was going on, he cupped her chin in his hands and tilted her face toward him, bringing his lips to her own. Her sword fell to her side as she took in the taste of his hungry mouth upon hers. Her heart thudded in her chest. Everything about this felt so right, except . . . it was wrong. She yanked away.

  “Heath, your brother! I just married him yesterday.”

  “I’m sorry, Alva. I just got carried away. You’re so beautiful and he’ll never appreciate that about you.”

  “Perhaps he will. I haven’t given him a chance and here I am out on the moors acting like a common tart with his brother!”

  “Trust me when I say he won’t, but I suppose it is not my place to make that assessment. I apologize if my kiss offended you, but I’m not sorry that I did it.”

  Alva studied his face closely as he continued to meet her gaze. She couldn’t help but think that he was beautiful. Perhaps she had never seen a more beautiful man in her life, in fact. It seemed like an odd thing to say about a man who was so obviously virile and strong, but the thought remained. Before she could stop herself, she leaned forward and kissed him again.

  His lips tasted divine on hers as his arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling their bodies closer. She sighed deeply as his mouth drifted down the side of her neck, kissing her pale, delicate skin. This was wrong. She knew that, but there was something about Heath that she couldn’t deny. The way she wanted him was something she would never share with his brother and she found she couldn’t stop. Her hands tangled in his long curls as his kisses fell across the exposed tops of her breasts.

  “Heath, please . . . “