Highland Obsession

by Dawn Halliday

  She did love him.

  The truth of it melted the final vestiges of the ice he'd packed around his heart on the night of their wedding.

  After studying him for a long moment, Cam asked, "When will you speak with her?"

  "She needs time to mourn—"

  "Don't be an ass, man. All she needs is you."

  It was snowing lightly as Alan and Sorcha made their way down the sloped path leading home. They'd covered the distance from Glen' finnan on horseback, and they had hardly exchanged a word the en' tire way, both of them lost in their own thoughts. When they reached the cottage, Alan dismounted, then lifted her off. When her feet touched the ground, he smiled down at her, still clasping her waist in his hands. She smiled back. It was the first time she'd smiled in days, and it felt good. Healing. He released her, and she went inside the cottage while he took care of the horse, promising to follow soon.

  A few moments later, Sorcha turned from the hearth to see Alan standing at the threshold, his gaze fastened on her. She took a shaky step toward the door and leaned on a supporting post in the center of the room.

  They were home. Well and truly alone for the first time in many days.

  "Do you want to be here with me, Sorcha?" he asked in a low voice. She shook her head, confused. "You must know I want to be with you, Alan. I'd follow you anywhere."

  Alan's brows pressed together, and a deep line appeared between them. "I've been a damn fool."

  "How can you say that?"

  "I was jealous. I couldn't stand sharing your love."

  "I care about Cam." She licked her lips. "He's essential to who I am, like my brothers and sister and father. I'll always love him. But you're different. More. You're my husband." His face tight, he nodded.

  "Why didn't you say goodbye that morning?" she asked quietly.

  "Duncan woke me before dawn. I looked over at you and saw you tangled in a lover's embrace with Cam, and I couldn't think. It nearly killed me to see the two of you like that. I felt—" He raked a hand through his hair. "I felt alone." Emotion lurched in her chest, but she remained silent.

  "I was too sick of mind and heart to confront you at that moment. My men were waiting for me downstairs. It seemed so much easier to go to them than to wake you... to let you see how"—he glanced away—"hurt I was." He inhaled deeply and met her eyes once again. "I went down to meet with Bowie—it was just him and two others. They'd risked the men leaving without them to come fetch me, and Bowie told me they planned to depart at dawn, whether I was there or not." A guilty look crossed over Alan's face. "I should have gone up to tell you what was happening, to reassure you all would be well between us. But I took the cowardly way out. I left."

  "I didn't mean to hurt you," she breathed. "You must know that."

  "I do now. I think I might have realized it later that day when we were on the march. By then it was too late to go back and say goodbye."

  "And now?"

  "You came after me," he said simply. "You and Cam drove to exhaustion to reach me in time, and when you didn't, you searched for me among the dead in a field of battle. What further proof do I need?"

  She pushed herself from the post and stepped toward him. "I love you, Alan. Can you see how much I love you?"

  "I—" Alan gazed at her. She stepped up to him and rested her palms on his shoulders. "I fear what you might d6 to me."

  "I would never hurt you."

  He shook his head. "I know you wouldn't—not purposely. But still..." His voice dwindled.

  He was afraid she'd hurt him again. Because he loved her and had given her that power over him. "I lied to you once," she said, "and I will never forgive myself for that. But I have never lied to you since. I love you. If we are open and honest with each other, as you said on the first night of our marriage, how can there ever be anything else?" His thumb grazed her cheek and she closed her eyes. The mere touch of his finger nearly overwhelmed her. She continued in a low voice. "I didn't know what it was, at first, this feeling in my chest whenever I looked upon your face and saw the wariness there. I hurt, because I'd hurt you. And I am so sorry for it.

  "And then I hurt you again, with Cam that night. But everything I did was to please you. The greatest joy I experienced during that night was in thinking how I'd pleased you. How close I felt to you."

  "I manipulated you," he said softly. "I tested you." Pain clogged her chest. "And I failed. I'm sorry." She dropped her head, but his fingers found her chin and pressed it up so once again she stared into his eyes.

  "No, it is I who am sorry. I misled you, mo chridhe. Into failing me so I'd have an excuse to run away. It was a sham to disguise my own cowardice." Alan paused for a long moment, his fingers still holding her chin, but she felt a slight tremor in them. "It was because I'd fallen in love with you and I was too cowardly to acknowledge it. I was afraid of the pain you could cause me. Afraid if I opened my heart to you, you'd destroy me by returning to Cam."

  "Never."

  His fingers stroked her hair behind her ear. "I love you, Sorcha. So much, it scares me. Forgive me for being a ... well, in Cam's words, an 'ass.'"

  "I forgive you," she murmured. "We both made mistakes."

  "Aye, we did."

  She wrapped her arms around his muscular torso and buried her face in his chest. They held each other for a long moment, and then she whispered, "I miss my brother. So much."

  "I know, ceisd mo chridhe."

  "He's gone, and I will never know what kind of a man he would have become." Alan continued stroking her hair.

  "If-—if I had lost you as well—" Tears gathered behind her lids. "I couldn't have borne it, Alan."

  "I'm here. I'm beside you, and I'm not leaving again."

  "You are the most important thing in the world to me, and I thought I might lose you without you ever knowing it. And .. ." She swallowed down the thick emotion crowding her throat. "I wished ... I wished I had given you all of myself, and I realized I never really had."

  His fingers stilled over her ear. "What do you mean, mo chridhel"

  "I want to have a family. With you." She glimpsed at him to gauge his reaction. His face was blank and she forged on, breathless. "You, me, and maybe a son or daughter for us to raise ... in our new home up on the hill."

  "What about what happened to your mother?" he asked softly.

  "I'm not afraid of death anymore. I've seen enough of it in the past few days. If my mother's fate should befall me, at least I will die know' ing I tried to give you a child." He cupped her cheeks in his palms. "Are you certain?"

  "I've never been more certain of anything."

  "Ah, Sorcha." His lips descended on hers, soft and light. She wrapped her arms around him and returned his kiss.

  It had been so long. She tried to keep it slow, to refrain from devouring him, but a long, agonized groan emerged from her throat.

  He gathered her tight against him. In all her life, she'd never felt so content, so loved. So right.

  She pulled away. "Does this mean yes?"

  He chuckled. "I say we begin right now."

  Gathering her close, he carried her to the bed. Their bed. He laid her down, removed his belt and plaid and then joined her, unclasping her brooch to release her arisaid, then plucking at her laces until her petticoats and stays gaped open. Then he grasped the edges, and she shimmied out of the garments as he tugged them from her body.

  "It's cold outside," she whispered, shivering a little.

  "Aye, it is."

  She slipped her hand beneath the hem of his shirt. "But you're warm."

  "I am." He smiled at her. "Warm for you, Sorcha." They finished undressing each other, and Alan kissed her again. He was warm. His body was like an oven, and she pressed herself into it, stealing his warmth onto her own cool skin. And when he entered her, she gasped as his heat speared through her.

  He gazed down at her as he began to move inside her body.

  "Look at me," he said in a low voice.

  She ope
ned her eyes and stared at him, allowing her love for him to pour out of her. In return she opened herself up to his offering of love, taking everything he had to give. As if, before this moment, they were empty vessels and now they were filling each other with care, trust, affection ... and love.

  She would remember this moment, perhaps even more than the moment the priest had bound them together. Because while God had accepted them as one on their wedding day, it had taken Sorcha and her husband a little longer to understand their joining. She now knew it would be forever. Nothing could part them now.

  She arched up into him. He penetrated her so deeply, and she squeezed so tightly around him, his shaft seemed to stroke her everywhere. She came, a sweet piercing orgasm that made her gasp and cling to him even tighter. And just as her peak receded, Alan's body began to quiver. He thrust hard, and she cried out as she felt him pulse deep inside her, releasing his seed against the mouth of her womb.

  A new tremble began in her core and. then spread until she shook all over. Alan lowered himself beside her and pulled her close.

  "Cold again?" he murmured. "So soon?"

  "N-n-no," she managed, trying to keep her teeth from chattering.

  "What then, mo chridheV

  "I—I'm happy," she whispered. "So happy."

  He pulled her closer, and she pressed herself against him. Finally, when she could speak again, she asked, "Do you think we created a child?"

  "There's no telling," he said, a smile in his voice. "We'll just have to keep trying until we're sure."

  "Ooh," she murmured, her words muffled against his body. "Can we try again right now?"

  Alan's chest vibrated as he laughed. "I said on our wedding night my wife was wanton."

  "Did I ever deny it?"

  He chuckled again. "You tried."

  "That I did," she admitted softly, and then she frowned. "I can't seem to remember why." In one smooth motion, he turned her so she lay on her back and he hovered over her. Smiling as their love pulsed around and through them, they both had their wicked way with each other. Again.

  EPILOGUE

  Ten Months Later

  Sorcha knelt in her little garden, plucking tiny weeds from the newly sprouted herbs she'd planted. In the distance, she could hear the noise of hammering and stones clacking. Alan was up the rise, supervising the progress of their new home.

  A new sound emerged—the unmistakable clomp of a horse's hooves. Shading her eyes from the sun, she looked up to see Cam approaching on horseback, looking dashing in his traveling clothes.

  Sorcha rose, brushing the dirt from her hands. She glanced up to see Alan striding down the hill to greet him.

  Cam stopped at the cottage, dismounted, and tied the tethers to a post before turning to her, removing his English hat. She allowed herself a secret smile to see that he still refused to ride in a wig.

  As she approached, he held out a gloved hand, and she took it, squeezing the buttery leather.

  "You said you weren't leaving till next week."

  "I'm ready to go, Sorcha. The rebellion is over. Alan is prepared to watch over my lands while I'm gone. Everything is in order."

  There was a sadness to his smile that made her heart pang. Now that the rising had been quashed and all was peaceful once again in the Highlands, he was returning to England, to look for, in his words, "a proper wife." And hopefully a love like Sorcha and Alan had found.

  "I'll miss you," she whispered.

  "As will I." Alan strode up to them and took his position beside her.

  "And I will miss you both," Cam said.

  Sorcha glanced at Alan, and he nodded almost imperceptibly. "Cam ..." He cleared his throat. "Sorcha and I.. .well, we have something to tell you ..." Alan seemed almost embarrassed, and Sorcha couldn't help the grin that spread her lips wide. "I'm-—"

  Cam laughed and squeezed her hand harder. "With child?" She gasped. "Yes—in the spring. But how could you know?"

  "You're glowing, my dear." He leaned forward to kiss her cheek. "I'm happy for you. Happy for you both."

  "Oh, Cam."

  She began to sniff, blinking back tears, and Alan rolled his eyes heavenward. "She's become a veritable waterfall since we discovered her condition."

  "Oh, stop." She swiped the back of her hand over her eyes.

  "Be well, dearest Sorcha," Cam said in a quiet voice, handing her a handkerchief. "Don't cry too much, all right?"

  She nodded, blinking to clear her blurred vision. "I'll try," she said on a choked laugh. Alan clapped Cam on the back. "Come home soon, my friend."

  "I—we—hoped you'd be home in time to be the child's godfather." Sorcha dabbed the handkerchief over her watery eyes.

  Cam sucked in a breath, and his lips twisted a tiny bit, belying his outwardly smooth appearance. "I'd be honored," he said with a tilt of his head. "I'll endeavor to return in time."

  He leaned forward to kiss Sorcha again. He and Alan exchanged a brief hug; then he turned and strode to his horse. He mounted and

  reined the horse toward them. "Goodbye," he said, touching the brim of his hat.

  "Goodbye," Sorcha said breathlessly. She doubted he even heard her as he turned and rode away.

  Alan's hand slipped into hers as Cam disappeared behind a clump of juniper trees. "It won't be the same here without him."

  "No," she agreed. "I hope he finds what he's looking for."

  "He will," Alan murmured. "He's a man of dedication and passion. He won't accept anything lessi"

  Sorcha merely nodded. Still, she'd never stop worrying for him. Not until he found that woman who understood him, who completed him. She took a deep breath. Alan touched a hand to her stomach, and concern deepened his sapphire eyes. "How are you, mo chridhel"

  "Better," she said. "It feels good to be outside." His voice lowered. "May I have the honor of taking you... inside?" She smiled. Alan made her feel so desired. Even through the awful sickness she'd suffered for the past few weeks. This new, sometimes frightening, experience of her pregnancy had brought them closer, if possible.

  She placed her hand over his, and both of them pressed gently against the new life they'd created that was growing inside her.

  "You may, Alan MacDonald. You may have the honor of taking me ... whenever and wherever you please."

  Sneak Peak of Highland Surrender

  Scottish Highlands April 1717

  Cam urged his horse to a canter. Ears pricked, the animal willingly obliged, sensing its rider's eagerness. From the gentle hills of Hampshire to the craggy mountains of the Highlands, Cam had followed behind the two black lacquered carriages rumbling sedately toward Camdonn Castle. Today, however, on the final leg of the journey, he'd stopped to greet one of his tenants, and the carriages had drawn ahead. He must catch up to them-—since they had left England, he'd clung to a vision of leading his bride-to-be and her uncle through the gates of Camdonn Castle. He wanted to make it clear that he was back to stay this time, and he intended to keep his primary home here. He planned to finally become the leader his Highlanders needed. A rider had gone ahead this morning to bear the news that they would arrive this afternoon—and Cam had indulged in imagining the staff lined up along the road leading through the castle gates, smiling and cheering as they welcomed him home.

  Only a few miles to go—they now rode through the pass in the forested mountains bordering the southern side of Loch Shiel. Cam took a deep breath, and the sweet, fresh smells of pine and heather— of home—washed through him. From somewhere in the brush, a male capercallie tapped and gurgled an aria in an attempt to lure a mate. Cam hoped Elizabeth would grow to love the Highlands as quickly as he had. He thought she might. Lady Elizabeth was young, titled, and rich. A proper, innocent English lass, and a perfect wife, politically speaking, for Cam. Even better, though she was beautiful and alluring and would be no hardship to bed, she didn't rouse him to all'Consuming lust, a state Cam had promised to avoid at all costs. He hardly knew her, but that didn't matter. Cam had gone to
England in search of someone precisely like Elizabeth. He was glad his quest hadn't taken too long. He'd been in England for only five months, but already he ached for home—for his Highland castle. His horse rounded a bend in the wide path, and a faint commotion ahead drew Cam from his thoughts. Cam frowned and leaned forward in the saddle, straining his ears. Men shouting? Suddenly, the crack of a gunshot resonated through the air, and Cam's horse surged into a gallop.

  What the hell? Cam gave the animal its head as another gunshot sent a flock of birds bursting from the branches of a nearby pine.

  Within moments, the road opened into a clearing, where men on horseback surrounded the larger, gold-trimmed carriage—the one bearing Elizabeth and her uncle. The men all wore black, and scarves covered the lower halves of their faces. The second vehicle carrying the servants in the duke's employ was nowhere to be seen. Cam's lips twisted in fury. Highwaymen.

  As Cam thundered closer, the sole man on foot yanked Lady Elizabeth from the carriage. She didn't make a sound, nor did she fight back. The poor girl was petrified with fear. Protective rage swelled in Cam's chest, and he yanked his pistol from his belt. "Let her go, damn you," he bellowed, heedless of the fact she'd hear his foul language. All four men swiveled in his direction. Good. If he diverted their attention away from his helpless family-to-be, perhaps he could keep them safe. He focused on the bastard whose filthy, callused hands wrapped around Elizabeth's tiny waist.

  "Release her!" he snarled, leveling the pistol at the man, though he didn't dare risk shooting and injuring Elizabeth.

  Astonishingly, the man obeyed. He shoved her to the side of the road. She stumbled backward, tripping over her voluminous skirts and into a gorse bush blooming with a flower that complemented the yellow silk of her dress. The villain glared at Cam as the three others on horseback turned toward him. Someone tossed the man on foot the reins of a riderless horse, and he mounted quickly.

  Looked like they all intended to come after him. Good. He'd draw them away from Elizabeth and the duke.