The Highlander Series 7-Book Bundle
Page 123
“But—”
“Are you going to talk me to death or kiss me, wife?” he asked huskily.
She opted for the kiss.
When his lips claimed hers, her body quickened with desire. He paused only to strip off his linen shirt, while Gwen made short work of his plaid.
“Lay back,” she commanded when she had him completely naked. “I think I should like to be on top.” He complied, flashing her a sexy grin that dripped promises of fantasies about to be fulfilled. She sat back on her heels, gazing at him, sprawled across the bed. His bronze skin and silky dark hair gleamed against the white linens. Six and a half feet of Highland warrior lay before her, awaiting her pleasure.
Yum.
Years of not understanding the equation of life culminated in one perfect moment of clarity—life equaled love plus passion squared. Loving and being passionate about what one did was what made life so precious. She would be perfectly content to devote the rest of her life to the proof of that equation.
“Touch me,” he purred.
She touched. Lightly, gliding her hands up his muscular thighs. Tracing each muscle, each ridge, then lowering her head to taste in her hand’s wake. She cupped him and swept her tongue up the underside of his hard shaft, delighted when he bucked beneath her.
“Gwendolyn!” he thundered, cradling her head with his hands. “I willna last a minute if you do that!”
“Och, nay, my braw laird,” she said in a lilting Scots accent. “Be still. ’Tis my pleasure you serve—ack!” She burst into laughter when in one swift motion he rolled her onto her back.
“I bid you recall I’ve been needing you for five hundred years, whereas you’ve been waiting only a month.”
“Yes, but you didn’t know time was pass—” she began, but he kissed her words away. He covered her body with his own, sliding her shirt up, kissing each breast as he bared them. Alternately returning for a searing kiss to her lips, then moving lower.
When at last he buried himself inside her, he groaned with ecstasy. He’d have waited a thousand years, nay, eternity, to have this woman as his own.
Much later, Drustan held her in his arms, marveling at how she completed him. She’d had her way, and had the top—the third time—informing him he was her “own private playground,” then explaining what a playground was. He had much to learn to fully integrate himself into her century. He suffered no fear on that score; rather, was exhilarated by the challenge.
Emotion flooded him, a sense of rightness and completion, and he kissed her, putting all his joy into the kiss. He was surprised when she pulled away, but then she took his hand and gently placed his palm over her belly.
He shot straight up in bed, searching her eyes. “Are you telling me something?” he exclaimed hoarsely.
“Twins. We’re having twins,” she said, bubbling over with joy.
“And you waited till now to tell me?” he roared, then threw his head back and whooped. He swept her into his arms and danced her about the room. He twirled her, kissed her, danced her more, then stopped and gently placed her back on the bed. “I shouldna be tossin’ you about like that,” he exclaimed.
Gwen laughed. “Oh, please, if our loving didn’t jostle them, a little dance certainly won’t hurt. I’m a little over two months along.”
“Two months!” he shouted, leaping to his feet again.
Gwen beamed; he was so elated. It was what every woman should get to experience when she told her man she was pregnant—a man utterly ecstatic to be a father.
He stood grinning like a fool for a moment, then sobered and dropped to his knees before her. “Will you be weddin’ me in a church, Gwendolyn?”
“Aye, oh, aye,” Gwen sighed dreamily.
And this time when they made love it was tender and slow and sweeter than e’er before.
“Where will we live?” she asked finally, combing her fingers through his silky hair. She simply couldn’t stop touching him. Couldn’t believe he was here. Couldn’t believe the sacrifice he’d made to be with her.
He grinned. “I took care of that. The estate was divided into thirds in 1518. My third is to the south. Dageus oversaw the construction of our home. It awaits us even now. Maggie and Christopher assured me they opened it and all is in readiness.”
Dageus, Gwen thought. She needed to tell him about Dageus vanishing, but there would time for that later. She didn’t want anything to spoil the moment.
“You doona mind living in Scotland, do you, lass?” he teased lightly, but she sensed a hint of vulnerability in his question. It would be hard for him to adjust to a new century. It would be even more difficult if she dragged him off to America. In time, she suspected he would like to travel, for he was a curious man, but Scotland would always be his home. Which was fine, she had no desire to go back to the States.
The enormity of what he’d done, how much he’d given up for her, overwhelmed her.
“Drustan,” she breathed, “you gave it all up—”
He pulled her onto his chest and brushed his lips against hers. “And I would do it all over again, sweet Gwen.”
“But your family, your century, your home—”
“Och, lass, doona you know? Your heart is my home.”
Dear reader:
I’d like to share with you a letter that neither Gwen nor Drustan have yet seen. I’m sure you noticed the connection between the two portraits missing in the MacKeltar hall, and Dageus “vanishing” in 1521.
There are actually two legacies handed down over the centuries, but rather than spoil Gwen and Drustan’s reunion, Maggie and Christopher agreed to hold off on revealing the second one.
You see, they have a letter addressed to Drustan and Gwen, from Silvan, as well as two shocking portraits of Dageus to show them. Yet they wished for Gwen and Drustan to have a few more stolen moments for loving before their new journey begins.
Scroll down the page for a peek at Silvan’s letter, from Dark Highlander, coming in the fall of 2002….
* * *
Drustan, my son:
I have missed you. I wish you could have met your brothers and sisters, but your heart was with Gwen, and ’twas where it wisely belonged. I wish the two of you every happiness, but rue to tell you your trials are not yet o’er.
First, the gentler news. Beloved Nell consented to be my wife. She has made every moment a joy. We left a few things for the two of you in the tower. Count over three stones on the base of the slab, second stone from the bottom. Life has been rich and full, more than I e’er dreamed. I have no regrets but one.
I should have watched Dageus more closely after you went into the tower. I should have seen what was happening. There you slumbered, enchanted, waiting for your mate, here I sat, with mine.
Yet Dageus grew e’er more solitary. Blinded by my own happiness, I didn’t see what was happening until it was too late. I shall be scant with the details, but suffice it to say as time passed, he became…obsessed with you. He worried that something would happen to prevent you from surviving until you found Gwen again.
And it did. I have no memory of it, mayhap an odd wrinkle in my mind, but he confessed to me that three years after we placed your enchanted body in the northeast tower, that wing of the castle caught fire and you were burned and died.
Dageus broke his oath, went back in time through the stones to the day of the fire, and prevented the fire from occurring. He saved you, but in so doing, turned Dark. The old legends were true.
If you are reading this, he succeeded in his course, for he appointed himself your dark guardian, his sole purpose to see you safely to Gwen. He vowed to watch over you, then disappeared. Dageus is a strong man, and I believe such a vow has kept him sane.
I hope it has, for I tasted the evil within him.
I believe, however, the moment you awaken and are reunited, there will be nothing to hold his darkness at bay. His purpose accomplished, the thin thread that binds him to the light will snap.
Och, my son
, ’tis sorry I am to be sayin’ this, but you must find him.
You must save him.
And if you cannot save him, you must kill him.
* * *
SOURCES
Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions, Edwin A. Abbott, Dover Publications
A Brief History of Time, Stephen Hawking, Bantam Books
Infinity and the Mind, The Science and Philosophy of the Infinite, Rudy Rucker, Princeton University Press
The Fourth Dimension: A Guided Tour of the Higher Universes, Rudy Rucker, Houghton Mifflin Company
Stephen Hawking’s Universe: The Cosmos Explained, Stephen Hawking, Basic Books
The Handy Physics Answer Book, P. Erik Gundersen, Visible Ink Press
The Celtic Reader: Selections from Celtic Legend, Scholarship and Story, John Matthews, ed., Thorsons
A Celtic Miscellany: Translations from the Celtic Literature, Kenneth Hurlstone Jackson, ed., Penguin Classics
The Story of the Irish Race, Seumas MacManus, The Devin-Adair Company
Contents
Master - Table of Contents
The Dark Highlander
Copyright
Dedication
Epigraph
Praise for Karen Marie Moning
First Prologue
Second Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Sources
Dear Reader
A Dell Book
Published by
Dell Publishing
a division of
Random House, Inc.
New York, New York
Copyright © 2002 by Karen Marie Moning
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. For information address: Dell Publishing, New York, New York.
Dell® is a registered trademark of Random House, Inc., and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.
Visit our website at www.bantamdell.com
eISBN: 978-0-440-33441-5
v3.0
This one is for the women
who made it possible through their extraordinary encouragement, support, and patience:
Deidre Knight, Wendy McCurdy,
and Nita Taublib—thank you!
Time is the coin of your life.
It is the only coin you have,
and only you can determine how it will be spent,
Be careful lest you let other people spend it for you.
—CARL SANDBURG
Praise for Karen Marie Moning’s
KISS OF THE HIGHLANDER
“Moning’s snappy prose, quick wit, and charismatic characters will enchant.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Moning is quickly building a reputation for writing poignant time travels with memorable characters. This may be the first book I’ve read by her, but it certainly won’t be my last. She delivers compelling stories with passionate characters readers will find enchanting.”
—The Oakland Press
“RITA award–winning romance author Karen Marie Moning pens another contender for that coveted award. Kiss of the Highlander belongs on everyone’s list of best novels of the year.”
—Romance Reviews Today
“Kiss of the Highlander IS WONDERFUL. … Her storytelling skills are impressive, her voice and pacing dynamic, and her plot as tight as a cask of good Scotch whisky.”
—The Contra Costa Times
“If you enjoy a brisk-paced book, an ingenious plot, good humor, and erotic love scenes, then you won’t want to miss Kiss of the Highlander.”
—Romance Fiction Forum
“Kiss of the Highlander is a showstopper.”
—Rendezvous
FIRST PROLOGUE
In a place difficult for humans to find, a man, of sorts—it amused him to go by the name of Adam Black among mortals—approached a silk-canopied dais and knelt before his queen.
“My queen, The Compact is broken.”
Aoibheal, queen of the Tuatha Dé Danaan, was silent for a long time. When finally she turned to her consort, her voice dripped ice. “Summon the council.”
SECOND PROLOGUE
Thousands of years before the birth of Christ, there settled in Ireland a race called the Tuatha Dé Danaan who, over time, became known as the True Race, or the Fairy.
An advanced civilization from a faraway world, the Tuatha Dé Danaan educated some of the more promising humans they encountered in Druid ways. For a time, man and fairy shared the earth in peace, but sadly, bitter dissension arose between them, and the Tuatha Dé Danaan decided to move on. Legend claims they were driven “under the hills” into “fairy mounds.” The truth is they never left our world, but hold their fantastic court in places difficult for humans to find.
After the Tuatha Dé Danaan left, the human Druids warred among themselves, splintering into factions. Thirteen of them turned to dark ways and—thanks to what the Tuatha Dé Danaan had taught them—nearly destroyed the earth.
The Tuatha Dé Danaan emerged from their hidden places and stopped the dark Druids moments before they succeeded in damaging the earth beyond repair. They stripped the Druids of their power, scattering them to the far corners of the earth. They punished the thirteen who’d turned dark by casting them into a place between dimensions, locking their immortal souls in an eternal prison.
The Tuatha Dé Danaan then selected a noble bloodline, the Keltar, to use the sacred knowledge to rebuild and nurture the land. Together, they negotiated The Compact: the treaty governing cohabitation of their races. The Keltar swore many oaths to the Tuatha Dé Danaan, first and foremost that they would never use the power of the standing stones—which give the man who knows the sacred formulas the ability to move through space and time—for personal gain or political ends. The Tuatha Dé Danaan pledged many things in return, first and foremost that they would never spill the lifeblood of a mortal. Both races have long abided by the pledges made that day.
Over the ensuing millennia, the MacKeltar journeyed to Scotland and settled in the Highlands above what is now called Inverness. Although most of their ancient history from the time of their involvement with the Tuatha Dé Danaan has melted into the mists of their distant past and been forgotten, and although there is no record of a Keltar encountering a Tuatha Dé Danaan since then, they have never strayed from their sworn purpose.
Pledged to serve the greater good of the world, no MacKeltar has ever broken his sacred oath. On the few occasions they have opened a gate to other times within the circle of stones, it has been for the noblest of reasons: to protect the earth from great peril. An ancient legend holds that if a MacKeltar breaks his oath and uses the stones to travel through time for personal purposes, the myriad souls of the darkest Druids trapped in the in-between will claim him and make him the most evil, terrifyingly powerful Druid humankind has ever known.
In the late-fifteenth century, twin brothers Drustan and Dageus MacKeltar are born. As their ancestors before them, they protect the ancient lore, nurture the land, and guard the coveted secret of the standing stones.
Honorable men, witho
ut corruption, Dageus and Drustan serve faithfully.
Until one fateful night, in a moment of blinding grief, Dageus MacKeltar violates the sacred Compact.
When his brother Drustan is killed, Dageus enters the circle of stones and goes back in time to prevent Drustan’s death. He succeeds, but between dimensions is taken by the souls of the evil Druids, who have not tasted or touched or smelled, not made love or danced or vied for power for nearly four thousand years.
Now Dageus MacKeltar is a man with one good conscience—and thirteen bad ones. Although he can hold his own for a while, his time is growing short.
The darkest Druid currently resides in the East 70s in Manhattan, and that is where our story begins.
PRESENT DAY
• 1 •
Dageus MacKeltar walked like a man and talked like a man, but in bed he was pure animal.
Criminal attorney Katherine O’Malley called a spade a spade, and the man was raw Sex with a capital S. Now that she’d slept with him, she was ruined for other men.
It wasn’t just what he looked like, with his sculpted body, skin poured like gold velvet over steel, chiseled features, and silky black hair. Or that lazy, utterly arrogant smile that promised a woman paradise. And delivered. One hundred percent satisfaction guaranteed.
It wasn’t even the exotic golden eyes fringed by thick black lashes beneath slanted brows.
It was what he did to her.
He was sex like she’d never had in her life, and Katherine had been having sex for seventeen years. She thought she’d seen it all. But when Dageus MacKeltar touched her, she came apart at the seams. Aloof, his every movement smoothly controlled, when he stripped off his clothing he stripped off every ounce of that rigid discipline and turned into an untamed barbarian. He fucked with the single-minded intensity of a man on death row, execution at dawn.