by Katy Baker
The merchant had a shock of unkempt hair and Andrew recognized him as the man he’d encountered when he first met Lucy. The man was lounging on a stool behind his stall, his feet up and a hat covering his face as though asleep. He certainly didn't seem to be making much effort to sell the dyes that were arranged in bottles on the stall.
“Donal,” Andrew said to his captain. "Go over there and pose as a horse merchant. See if ye can get him to take ye around the back to see his wares. If ye can, give us a signal and we’ll come in."
Donal nodded and sauntered across the street. The man woke up as Donal started perusing the dyes. He hopped to his feet and bowed graciously to Donal. Donal made a show of inspecting the dye bottles then, as Andrew and the rest of his men watched from their hiding place, he leaned close to the merchant and began whispering. The merchant's eyes darted from side to side, a decidedly shifty look crossing his features.
Andrew tensed as the negotiations continued. Then the merchant nodded and indicated for Donal to follow him around to the back of his stall. As he did so Donal gave a surreptitious thumbs-up sign. That was the signal. Andrew and his men moved quickly, weaving through the crowds and ducking into the small alleyway at the side of the dye stall.
Andrew peered around the corner. Sure enough, just as Lucy had told him, there was a small corral at the back of the stall with three horses tethered. The dye merchant—or the horse thief—was busy showing them to Donal.
That was enough for Andrew. He stepped into view.
"Hello again."
The merchant's head whipped round. Recognition dawned and his eyes widened. He glanced at Donal who grinned at him.
"Surprise!"
"What is this?" Seamus asked. "What are ye doing?"
"Catching a thief," Andrew growled.
"I’m no thief! I'm an honest merchant!"
"Is that so?" Andrew asked, stalking closer. "Then perhaps ye can explain why yer selling three of Clan Harris’s horses that were stolen from one of our crofts, killing one of my men in the process?"
Seamus licked his lips nervously. His eyes darted from Andrew to Donal and back again. Then he threw himself towards the mouth of the alley with a strangled cry. But there was no escape that way. Anticipating such a move, Andrew had sent two of his men to block the alley. Seamus crashed into them and fell onto his backside in the mud. One of Andrew's men hauled him to his feet and held him fast while Andrew approached.
"Seamus Finnegan," Andrew said. "By my authority under the king of Scotland I declare ye are under arrest for theft and murder."
“Nay!” Seamus squealed. "Ye canna do this to me! I’m no villain! Let me go!"
“Donal, take this man back to our camp and keep him under guard,” Andrew instructed. "He'll stand trial when we get back to Dun Arnwick.”
He gave instructions to his men and then left. As he strode the streets of the fair, heading back to the lodge, a slow sense of satisfaction crept through him. He'd finally caught the horse thief and it was all because of Lucy.
He smiled. His Lucy. His incredible Lucy. She deserved his thanks, the thanks of the whole clan. He paused at a stall long enough to make a purchase and then strode on towards the lodge, a new spring in his step.
LUCY WAS MORE TIRED than she’d expected to be. A busy day of sightseeing, performing and then the excitement of following Seamus had taken its toll. From outside came the sounds of revelry. The fair and its entertainments were still in full swing and would no doubt go on long into the night.
Lucy smiled to herself. No doubt many of Andrew's household were still out there enjoying themselves. She wished them good luck but had no desire to join them.
She sat down on the bed and began brushing her hair. She wondered where Andrew was and whether he'd found Seamus. She set the brush down on the nightstand, began unbuttoning her dress and then stepped out of it. The air, though not cold, had a coolness that sent goose bumps rippling across the skin. Hanging the dress on a peg, she pulled her nightgown over her head.
Voices suddenly echoed in the corridor outside. Her heart leapt as she recognized Andrew’s voice and she spun towards the door just as he called, "Lucy? Are ye decent? May I come in?"
"Yes, I'm decent.”
The door opened and Andrew stepped into the room. He was wearing his Harris plaid and had numerous weapons strapped around his body. His hair was tousled and his breathing slightly elevated, as though he’d hurried here.
He stopped and stared at Lucy, running a hand through his hair. He opened his mouth and closed it again, seeming at a loss as to what to say.
Finally, he said, "I.... I'm sorry, lass. I didnae realize ye would be getting ready for bed."
Lucy was suddenly very aware of the thin nightgown that covered her body. She was also very aware of Andrew standing only a few paces away from her. They were alone. There was nobody here but them.
She cleared her throat. "Don't worry about it. I'm not really tired anyway," she lied. "Did you find Seamus? Did he give you any trouble?"
Andrew glanced at his attire, seeming to realize that he’d come here fully armed. A slight look of embarrassment crossed his features. "I came here straight from apprehending him. I didnae have time to change. My apologies. I shouldnae carry weapons in yer presence and certainly not in yer bedchamber."
"No, probably not,” Lucy replied with a smile. "Mona would be scandalized if she knew."
Andrew gave an answering smile. "Mona would be scandalized by me just being here." He pursed his lips and gave a good approximation of Mona's tone of voice. "Tis not seemly for a man to be in a lady’s bedchamber, especially the laird."
Lucy laughed. "Well I won't tell her if you don't. Deal?"
"Deal." Andrew crossed the room. She found herself having to crane her neck to look up at him. "In answer to yer question, lass, aye, we found Seamus Finnegan. He denied everything of course but we found him with three of the missing horses. He’s under guard and will be tried when we get home." He reached out and gently flicked a stray strand of hair from her face. "I couldnae have done it without ye, lass. Ye have my thanks and that of the whole of the Harris clan."
Lucy waved her hand, trying to seem nonchalant, even though the closeness of him was doing strange things to her body. "Don't mention it. I just hope you get the rest of your horses back and some justice for Malcolm."
"Aye. So do I.” He stared at her for a moment, his eyes hungry as they held her gaze. Then he shook himself and reached into his sporran. "I bought ye a gift. As a thank ye." He held up a small leather case.
"A gift?" Lucy asked. “What is it?”
"Why dinna ye open it and find out?"
Lucy took the soft leather case and opened it. She gasped. Inside lay a tiny flute. It was carved from a single piece of wood and had been polished until it shone as white as bone. It was beautiful. Lucy gently ran her fingers over it.
"Do ye like it?"
"Like it?" Lucy breathed. "I love it! Oh, Andrew, it's wonderful!"
She pulled him into a tight embrace. With a gentle laugh Andrew wrapped his arms around her and pressed her close.
“I’m glad ye like it, lass,” he murmured in her ear. “I’m not too well versed in getting gifts for women. Aren’t jewelry and clothes the usual gifts? That’s what Donal reckons.”
Lucy shook her head. "Not for this woman. You couldn't have chosen anything better. I'll treasure it. Always."
She found herself staring up at him again. He was so close that she felt the heat emanating from him. His unblinking gaze was like a magnet, pulling her in and holding her trapped.
“Andrew, I—”
“Hush, lass.” He pressed a finger against her lips. “Dinna say anything.”
He took the flute case from her and placed it on the floor. Then he lowered his head and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, her nostrils full of his heady aroma. His warm hand moved down her body, stroking her back and sides.
Then suddenly
he pulled away.
“I’m sorry, lass,” he whispered, his voice ragged. “I shouldnae have done that.”
Lucy reeled, still intoxicated by his kiss. She struggled to collect her thoughts. Holy crap, did he have any idea of the effect he had on her?
His eyes were full of hunger but his stance looked uncertain, as though he was at war with what he wanted and what he thought was right.
Lucy’s heart swelled. Even now, when she could see how much he wanted her, he held himself back. She stepped closer so that her breasts were pressed against his chest. There was only the thin fabric of her nightdress separating them.
“What about what I want?”
Andrew groaned. “Stop, lass. I’m on the edge. If ye go any further I may lose control and take ye right here.”
“Would that be such a bad thing?”
“Aye, it would. Ye are not some dalliance to be forgotten in the morning. Ye are my love.”
Lucy froze. Time stopped. Her heart suddenly thundered in her chest so hard she heard her pulse roaring in her ears.
“What did you just say?”
Andrew took both her hands in his. His eyes were like twin pools. “Ye are my love, Lucy Jennings. Have ye not realized that by now? Ye have turned my world upside down and hold my heart in yer hands. I’m helpless before ye.”
Lucy couldn’t speak. A swell of emotion burst upon her. It was so strong it took her breath away. So strong it washed away all her doubts, all her insecurities, all her fears. It washed away everything and left something bright and shining in its wake.
Love.
She’d never expected to feel this way. Never again. But Andrew had more than healed her. He’d made her stronger. Made her invincible.
“My God,” she whispered. “This is it, isn’t it? This is really happening? This is real?”
“What is, lass?” His voice was tense, as though he desperately wanted to hear her say the words.
“You know what I’m talking about.”
“Do I?”
“I mean...” her voice faltered. How could she find the words to express how she felt about this man? “I love you, Andrew Harris. So hard and so deep it hurts.”
The look that crossed Andrew’s face was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. His eyes sparkled. Pure joy shone in them.
“Lucy Jennings,” he whispered. “Ye have undone me. I am yers to command. What would ye have of me?”
Lucy didn’t answer. Instead, she kissed him.
This time he didn’t pull away. His arms crushed her to him and his mouth devoured hers. Lucy’s eyes slid closed as she melted into his embrace. Her body came alive. Desire rampaged along her nerves. Goosebumps rode up her skin.
Before she knew it she was tugging at Andrew’s clothes and he obliged her by unclasping the weapons belt and letting it drop to the floor. She grabbed his plaid and unwound it. He stepped out of it and stood before her completely naked.
Lucy’s heart skipped a beat. Her eyes roved over him hungrily, taking in his hard, muscled torso, his tight waist and strong thighs. And his manhood standing proud, eager for her.
He reached out and with gentle fingers circled her nipples through her nightdress. Lucy groaned as they tightened, brushing painfully against the fabric. Andrew grabbed a fistful of the garment and pulled it over her head in one fluid motion. A hiss escaped his lips as he took her in, drinking her in greedily.
Then he was on her.
His lips descended to her neck, laying sizzling kisses along her collarbone and then up her neck to her ear. His strong hand cupped her breast, squeezing until it was almost painful. Lucy moaned and arched her back, pressing herself against him.
With a growl he bent and scooped her into his arms. In two strides he was across the room and laying her gently on the bed. It groaned as Lucy’s weight settled onto it. He knelt above her, his eyes searing into her with their heat.
“Andrew,” she whispered. “Come here.”
She pulled him down on top of her. He nudged her knees apart and she felt the head of his manhood bump the place between her legs. She gasped as scorching hot desire coursed through her.
He gazed down at her, propping himself up with a hand to either side of her head. “Oh, Lucy.”
Then he thrust. Lucy flung her head back as he entered her, sliding deep inside. It felt amazing. It felt right. His body, atop and inside hers felt like nothing she’d ever experienced before.
“Andrew!” she gasped.
His response was a wordless, animal-like growl. He withdrew and slowly thrust into her again. Lucy ran her hands down the hard contours of his back all the way to his tight backside, feeling his muscles bunch and release as he plunged into her.
Lucy rocked her hips, meeting Andrew’s thrusts. Each time he speared deep inside her, it sent rippling pulses of energy quivering along her nerves like molten metal. Andrew groaned softly as he moved, his eyes holding hers and seeming to gaze deep into her soul.
Gasps escaped Lucy’s lips and the pleasure mounting inside made her want to scream Andrew’s name. As the sensation grew their movements became deeper, more urgent.
Andrew’s breath began to come in deep, ragged pants. Lucy was dimly aware that the bed was creaking and that the noises she and Andrew were making might carry to the guards outside but it was a minor concern, unimportant. What mattered was her and Andrew, their bodies locked in pleasure, rivers of hot bliss pouring along their nerves. She never wanted this to end.
“Lucy,” Andrew growled, his voice gruff with desire. “Ye are mine. Nobody else’s. Ever.”
The raw male strength in his voice sent her senses wild. He was claiming her. Making her his. And boy, did that feel good. Fire began to burn deep inside her core and then spread out, consuming her senses in a conflagration of pure, blinding ecstasy.
It was too much. She couldn’t hold it back any longer. She cried out as her climax overcame her. Lucy screwed her eyes tight shut as wave after wave of ecstasy rolled through. Andrew bucked, letting forth a howl as he reached his peak as well.
He looked down at her, panting, trying to catch his breath. After an endless moment, he rolled away, pulling Lucy tight against his side. With her head on his chest Lucy could hear the rapid pounding of his heart.
Andrew gently kissed her hair and Lucy stroked his chest, loving the sensation of his body against hers. Neither spoke, enjoying the last ebbing of pleasure as it drained from their bodies.
“Andrew,” Lucy whispered, her thoughts turning fuzzy. “Stay with me tonight.”
He gently brushed her hair with a finger. “I’m not going anywhere, love. Not ever.”
She smiled dreamily. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
ANDREW ROUSED SLOWLY from beautiful dreams. In them, Lucy was lying beside him, nestled in the warmth of his arms. When he opened his eyes he realized it wasn’t a dream at all. There she was, curled up next to him, a slight half-smile on her face as she slept.
Andrew’s breath left him. How could this woman be his? He was uncouth, bad-tempered and surly. Most people avoided him. But Lucy? For some strange reason she loved him.
He shook his head in amazement, sending a silent prayer of thanks to the Lord for making Lucy’s path cross with his that day. He ran a gentle finger down her cheek and along the line of her shoulder. She shivered under his touch and nestled in closer. He felt desire stir inside. They had made love several times more last night and Andrew had soon discovered that Lucy’s beauty was matched only by her passion.
And now he was ready for more. He couldn’t get enough of this woman. Not ever.
She shifted and her eyes fluttered open. She smiled. “Well there’s a sight I could get used to waking up to.”
She reached up and caressed the muscles of Andrew’s chest. He groaned, the ache in his groin becoming almost unbearable.
“What are ye trying to do to me, love?”
She grinned wickedly. “What would you like me to do to you?�
�
“Ah, now there’s a question. How long have ye got?”
She laughed and pulled him down for a kiss. He swept the covers away and laid his weight atop her, loving the sensation of her warm skin against his. He kissed down her neck and along her collarbone.
Suddenly there was a banging on the door.
“My laird? Are ye in there?” It was Captain Donal.
“What is it?” Andrew yelled.
“Ye had better come, my laird. There’s a disturbance.”
Andrew growled in annoyance. Could he not be left in peace for one minute? Could he not be given even this moment’s privacy with his lady?
He was about to bark orders at Donal when he heard shouting from outside.
“Harris! Get out here now ye thieving scoundrel!”
He recognized that voice.
“What is it?” Lucy asked. “What’s going on?”
Andrew climbed off the bed, plucked his plaid from where it lay on the floor and quickly wrapped it around his waist. Then he went to the window and pulled back the shutters, letting early morning light flood into the room. Squinting against the bright light, Andrew peered out.
Laird Garrick stood in the courtyard below, hands on hips, glaring up at Andrew.
“Did ye hear me?” he bellowed. “Ye have stolen my horses and I will have satisfaction!”
What was the fool man going on about? Had he taken a whack on the head?
Andrew leaned out. “What do ye want, Garrick?”
“My property back, thief!”
Andrew bridled. “Watch yer tongue, Garrick. I willnae stand for yer insults.”
“Then come down here and meet me! Or are ye a coward as well as a thief?”
Anger surged through Andrew’s veins. Who did this upstart think he was? He’d teach him to show some respect!