Highlander's Kiss: The McDougalls, Books 1-3

by Hildie McQueen

  Through half closed eyes, he peered at where they joined and his lips curved. With his hands on her hips, he guided her movements and she lifted and lowered onto him.

  Flattening her hands on his chest, Ailios closed her eyes and allowed sensations to take over. When she opened her eyes, she saw that he too was lost in the moment, his eyes closed, lips parted. As she began to climb Ailios fought to keep a constant rhythm only to lose it when his fingers began to toy with her breasts, pinching softly at her nipples.

  He pulled her down against his chest and continued to thrust into her until taking them to reach heights together. And on they climbed, holding to each other as if they feared losing one another.

  Ailios cried out, her much higher pitch mingling with his hoarse rumble.

  When she was finally able to catch her breath, she was splayed on his chest. Ian's arms tightened around her not allowing her to move, to separate.

  A tear escaped and she hoped he'd mistake it for a drop of perspiration. How could she ever give him up? There was no choice, of course, but her heart didn't understand facts.

  "Ailios, I must speak to you," Ian began and she fortified herself for his speech on how he'd never be with her again.

  "Listen to me." He gently pulled out and rolled her off his chest. He sat up and pulled her into his arms, embracing her against his large strong chest, "Look at me."

  No longer able to keep the tears at bay, she blinked up at him. "Aye, I am listening."

  "I don't want to give you up."

  "But you must."

  "I asked you to listen to me." Ian kissed the tip of her nose. "I believe there may be a way for us to remain together. If you will have me."

  "What?" Her heart thumped and her stomach pitched. "What do you speak of?"

  "Will you remain with me, as my wife."

  "You are betrothed, Ian."

  "I am aware of that, Ailios. Would you please be quiet and listen." He kissed her lips and smiled at her. "Listen."

  She couldn't help smiling at him. "Very well."

  "If I can convince my father to marry Lachlan to my betrothed and Laird McLean agrees, will you marry me?"

  "Is it possible?" Ailios could not help but beam at him.

  "I believe so. Of course, there are two other people involved who may be put off, but I doubt it will be a problem. Lachlan is ready to marry and Claire has met me but once and it was not a good experience for either of us. She kicked me and ran away in alarm. She didn't like me in the least. Called me a devil."

  "How old were you?" She assumed they must have met when children.

  "Thirty."

  "Oh." Ailios giggled.

  "Say yes, Ailios."

  "Yes, Ian."

  He kissed her soundly and she laughed when his stomach grumbled. "I believe you are hungry my laird."

  “It can wait,” he told her and let out a long breath. "I knew one day the perfect woman would come into my life. I dreamed that I could have a marriage like my parents, filled with caring and understanding. Dare I hope that one day we will love each other as such."

  Ailios kept the fact that she'd loved him from afar for a long time secret for the time being. “I believe so.”

  They remained in his chambers for the rest of the day even taking their meals in bed.

  Ailios licked her fingers after finishing a delightful treat, which had been brought by Cook.

  "I knew it by the way he looked at you. My laird is taken with you." The older woman chuckled as she left.

  Heat rushed to her face, but she couldn’t help but smile.

  "Ian,” Ailios said cupping his jaw with her palm. “I am nervous about facing your mother. What will she say?"

  Ian's lack of concern helped to ease her nerves. "She has always wished for a love match for me."

  "Love?" Could it be that she could aspire for Ian to one day feel for her, as she felt for him for so long? Ailios settled into his arms and took a deep breath. "I've loved you for years, Ian. I watched for you from the rooftop window of my house in the village. Just catching a glimpse of you atop your steed was enough to brighten my dreary existence on many days." Her face heated but she looked up to see his reaction to the words.

  His wide eyes fell over her. "Is that true?"

  "Yes. It's silly I suppose. I never dreamed to be here, in your arms, in your bed."

  Ian laughed and kissed her soundly. "I however did dream of having you here, dear love, the first moment I saw you gracing my great hall. I felt as if a part of me which I had been searching for finally returned."

  He kissed her tears away. "Did I say something to hurt you, Ailios?"

  "No, Ian. You spoke the words my heart has been striving to hear. I love you."

  "And I you."

  Chapter 36

  Lachlan and Claire’s Story

  "I refuse to marry that devil!" Claire McLean rushed up the stairwell, her father fast on her heels. She slammed the chamber door and stomped to the bed to wait for him to burst through and lecture on her lack of respect.

  Seconds turned into minutes. The laird did not come, nor did she hear his footsteps. Was something amiss? It wasn't like him to allow her to get the last word.

  The sound of creaking made her heart pitch. Her father had finally come. She was sure he'd take drastic action at her behavior. Instead of the Laird of Clan McLean, her older sister Moira walked in.

  She sat next to Claire and huffed impatiently. "Father is very cross with you. The only reason he did not come after you is because he was extremely tempted to beat you."

  "He wouldn't dare hit me. Would he?" Claire looked to the slightly opened door and wondered if she should close it. "I am cross with him as well. It is horrible that he would marry me against my will. To one of the horrible McDougalls no less."

  The ever-gentle Moira took her right hand with both of hers and patted it. "There is no choice, you must marry the McDougall's eldest son, Claire."

  "I will not do it." Claire yanked her hand away and stood. "I will choose my own husband."

  "You cannot. The clans have sealed the agreement. You must do as father asks."

  "But you chose," Claire told her sister and moved to sit in a chair. "You chose your husband, therefore I should be allowed to do so as well."

  With a breath Moira changed her tact. "Ian McDougall is a handsome man. He will be laird soon, as his father is very ill. You will be the laird's wife, hold a place of honor."

  "Hmphf, I find him boring and quite proud. Not at all what I want in a husband."

  "I found him pleasant, the last time he visited. What more could you possibly want, dear sister?"

  This time it was Claire who took an overly dramatic breath, her lips curved and she held her hands over her heart. "I wish for a man with hair spun of gold, eyes so dark I will think myself looking to the night sky. Tall of stature, but not too broad, as I prefer a sleeker body on a man. His voice will be of a soothing timbre, which will be like honey to my senses. Oh, and he will be of an agreeable nature."

  "Bah!" Moira giggled. "You'd slay a man of an agreeable nature. What you need, dear sister is a strong hand."

  Claire frowned but then relented and chuckled. "True. I would not like a simpering man. You are correct, Mo, a strong man who stands up to me, but is yet gentle with his ways."

  "Darling sister, if such a man existed, then he'd come to you in a fairy mist," Moira scolded, shaking her head. "Now enough of this nonsense, sister, I came to help you pack."

  "Very well, I will pack, but I warn you the only reason I do so is because I plan to run away," Claire said watching Moira opening a large empty trunk. She did not move to help. Instead she looked toward the window wishing for said fairy dust to appear.

  "No, you will not, Claire. You would never disappoint Da in such a cruel manner."

  Of course Moira was right. Exasperation filled her, and Claire wondered at a way to convince Ian McDougall to release her from the betrothal.

  Surely he disliked her a
s much as she did him. The last time they'd met, it had been less than amicable.

  There was hope still.

  Chapter 37

  Lachlan was less than patient while waiting admittance to the McLean keep. He and the three men who accompanied him were quite weary from the days of travel to the McLean keep.

  Finally the thick wooden gates inched open allowing them to enter the sizeable courtyard. The laird hurried out from inside, the stout man's face ruddy from the exertion.

  With a slight bow, Lachlan greeted the McLean. "Laird, I am Lachlan McDougall, here in my brother's stead to be proxy to the handfast with Lady Claire and escort her back to McDougall lands."

  The laird's sharp eyes snapped over him and then each of his men. "Aye, of course, come...come inside and seek refreshment."

  They followed the man, who moved with surprising speed, into a large room where they settled at a long polished wooden table. The room was quite large, as the clan was much larger than the McDougalls. On every wall tapestries decorated and brought warmth. On opposite walls, immense hearths boasted fires that added additional heat. Lachlan spotted at least ten maids moving between long rows of tables serving the men and woman seated. They interrupted the evening meal it seemed.

  McLean lifted his hands clapping above his head and several maids came forward to see to their needs.

  The smell of the freshly baked breads made Lachlan's mouth water. Trays piled high with meats and root vegetables were brought into the room and placed before them. Steaming bowls of a hearty stew followed the laden trays. His stomach grumbled in delight.

  "Eat, fill your bellies," the McLean told them picking up a large slab of meat and placing it onto his plate. "Your Da? How fares he?" he asked Lachlan, a concerned expression on his face.

  He hoped to return and find his father still alive. "Father is not well. He worsened just as my brother was to come."

  "Ah." The man shook his head. "He is a good man, your Da."

  Not wishing to think too much about his father, Lachlan looked to the doorway where a comely serving wench watched him with interest. Perhaps after filling his stomach and bathing, he'd seek her out.

  "Me daughter is packing, I am not sure she will join us for the meal tonight," the laird informed him. "She will be a good wife to Ian, I'm sure. Although Claire is a bit of an energetic lass, I'm afraid."

  The picture of the fiery sprite kicking Ian and running away came to mind and Lachlan pressed his lips together to keep from commenting. His brother would have his hands full with that one. Although a beauty, Claire McLean would be hard to tame, she was not meant to be a laird's wife. But it wasn't his decision, so Lachlan refrained from bringing that fact up and continued eating.

  His duty was to fetch the lass and bring her back to McDougall keep. Whether or not he thought it a good or bad idea did not matter. For now he was content to be warm and well fed.

  The light of a full moon was enough for Lachlan to make his way to the stables later that night. His legs were heavy from exhaustion and the hearty meal did not help him move with much ease. Once he checked on his horse, a warm bed would be most welcome. Tonight he'd not seek a wench after all, it was rest he needed more.

  The smell of hey and horses joined with the sounds of the nickering horses as Lachlan walked past the stalls to find his steed. As if sensing his presence the horse nickered and poked his head out to look toward him.

  Just then movement caught his eye. He looked to the shadows past the last stall and didn't see anything. Whatever it was hid.

  Lachlan went to his horse, ran his hand over the soft fur and fed him a root vegetable he'd gotten from the kitchens. "There now, you get some rest, we'll be back on the road soon enough."

  While he tended to his steed, Lachlan kept an eye on the back corner. If it was a wee beast looking for warmth, he'd leave it be. But if it was something that could harm the horses, it was best if he ran it off.

  Once again the shadow moved. It was too large of an animal to leave alone with the horses.

  With a pitchfork in hand he rounded the corner to see a huddled figure grasping at a cloak in an attempt to hide in the darkness. It would have worked if not for several strands of bright red hair peeking from one side.

  "Claire?"

  "No!" The figure replied but did not move.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Go away," she replied and a hand stuck out from the folds of the cloak to wave him away.

  "I will not leave until you speak to me."

  The lass sprung to her feet and faced him, eyes narrowed. Lachlan stepped back to ensure his shins were protected from a possible kick. He'd seen how hard she'd struck his brother. Ian had limped for a couple days after.

  Wild green eyes looked him from head to foot and back up again. Then she slapped a hand over her mouth. Claire stumbled forward still studying him and once again he stepped back. Was the lass mad?

  "Are you real?" Claire asked and reached out to poke him in the chest. "Did you come for me?"

  "Aye and aye."

  "Your hair, ‘tis like spun gold." Hand planted on the middle of his chest, she stood on her toes and peered into his eyes next. "And your eyes, they are dark as the night sky."

  Gods, his brother was to be married to an addled woman who made no sense. "What do you speak of, Claire?"

  "Did you come for me?" she repeated and a wide smile curved her lips. He could not help but respond to the beauty and grinned in return.

  "Aye, we leave on the morrow."

  She grabbed his tunic and pulled him forward, her face mere inches from his. "Nay, we cannot wait, they will take me before then. We must leave now."

  "I am quite weary. I'm afraid we wouldn't make it very far." Lachlan had to admit he enjoyed the proximity and moved closer, his lips almost touching hers. "I will escort you back inside."

  "What is your name?" Claire asked, her breath fanning over his face.

  "Lachlan."

  "You have come to rescue me, Lachlan." Their lips touched and Lachlan's eyes flew wide. His hands on her shoulders, he attempted to push her away, but she moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  His brother's betrothed attempted to pull him into her world of madness. Lachlan broke the kiss and held her away from him. Claire remained with her eyes closed, lips pursed, a flushed coloring about her face. A more fetching picture he could not think of.

  "Claire, please open your eyes. We must go inside, come along, you need rest. Tomorrow we leave for McDougall lands."

  Her scream startled him so, that he too hollered as well and spun around looking for whatever scared her only to realize she shrieked at him. "You are a McDougall?" She turned and spit at the ground. "But all of you devils are dark in hair color and have blue eyes." She squinted in the darkness at him. "I don't recognize you."

  "I was here with my brother before. You may not have noticed me in your haste to attack my brother and flee."

  She did not respond, but continued to narrow her eyes. "Who are you really? Are you sure to not be a Fae then?"

  Becoming weary of her game, he took her arm and guided her toward the keep. "I am Lachlan McDougall, Ian's younger brother. I resemble our mother who is fair haired."

  "Aye, I remember her. She is a nice woman." She paused. "Who has birthed two devils." She turned on her heel and attempted to leave, but he held her by the arm. "Let me go. I am going to run away. No one can force me into this marriage."

  Prepared for her kick, he avoided the swift strike when it came. Patience lost, he picked up the thrashing woman and threw her over his shoulder. "I'm too weary to play laird's spoiled daughter with you this night."

  Chapter 38

  "What are you are doing?" Claire hissed at the dark-eyed devil who propped his head on folded arms and lay on the floor in front of her door staring at the ceiling.

  The shadows of weariness under his eyes did little to detract from his good looks. Her stomach tumbled when his eyes met hers and she cursed at her
foolish actions earlier.

  His deep sigh made her want to kick him. "I attempt to go to sleep. Would you please do the same?"

  That voice... deep but smooth as the waters at the nearby loch. Claire sniffed and turned away. "Fine, sleep there if you wish. I may not run away tonight, but trust me sooner or later, I will." She sat on her bed and wondered at the tingle of guilt that because of her actions, the man was forced to sleep on the cold, hard floor. "I can summon a maid to remain here. You may go to your chambers."

  "Go. To. Sleep."

  Two days later, Claire adjusted her sore bottom on the horse. Why had she asked to ride astride? They'd been on the road for less than a day and already the bruising of her backside brought her close to tears. Her plan to escape at the first opportunity may well be waylaid by her own arse.

  From the corner of her eye she stole a glance at Lachlan, who rode beside her. He'd had one of his men posted outside her door after sleeping on the floor the first night. Today in spite of traveling, the man looked well rested and refreshed.

  Prepared to spar with him again the last morning at home, she'd been disappointed to wake to find him gone, and another of the McDougalls outside her door.

  She'd not seen him for an entire day as she and Moira had spent the time packing and preparing for her travel. That morning he appeared at breakfast with damp freshly washed hair. Now his light hair shined like spun gold in the sunlight. She examined his profile again. Elegant straight nose and well-formed lips, that immediately brought back thoughts of their kiss. To avoid the thought any longer, she moved on to his strong jawline. If ever there were a handsome devil, it was Lachlan McDougall.

  "We will stop in a few hours to set up camp. Are ye well, Lady Claire?" He did not turn to her while he spoke, instead kept his gaze forward.

  Biting her lip to keep from begging to stop now, she nodded. "Quite well."