Gavin MacKenzie and his wife, Edana, were new allies and, with Lilidh’s and Rob’s efforts to re-establish relations between the MacKenzies and the MacLeries, a new stability and peace would begin in the western Highlands.
But his gaze always came back to Lilidh.
The love of his life.
The woman who had helped him become the laird he wanted to be.
It always came back to Lilidh and his love for her. One that was threatened by his immaturity and stupidity, but one that was reclaimed in time.
So, at this moment when he should have been the chief and welcoming his important visitors to this significant meeting, the only words he could think of were of and for her. Knowing the pain and the cost of almost losing her, he held his cup in her direction and returned her smile, ignoring all the others there.
‘To Lilidh MacLerie,’ he began. His throat thickened as he thought of all the things he wanted to say to her, about her, before their kith and kin. All the words vanished until he was left with only those. ‘To Lilidh,’ he repeated.
The hall filled with cheering and she blushed as they called out her name over and over until it blended together in one roar. Rob reached down and kissed her hand. ‘I will tell you the rest later,’ he said, pulling her close and touching his mouth to hers.
‘Until later, my lord husband,’ she whispered back before nodding her thanks to those present.
* * *
The meal took some time and hours passed and though Connor and Jocelyn made it their custom to be the last to leave their hall, Rob decided that he would forgo that custom this night. Breaking away from his family and hers, they sought the quiet of their chambers. A momentary stop in the nursery to see that Tavish was sleeping and then he pushed open the door to their rooms.
Before she could walk away, Rob pulled Lilidh into his embrace and kissed her as he wanted to—letting his passion speak to her of his love. As with every kiss, she moulded to him, holding back nothing until they were breathless. He held her face in his hands and gazed at her, thanking the Almighty that she’d given him a second and third chance to come to his senses.
‘What did your parents say of the news?’ he asked, kissing her forehead and cheeks. ‘Were they surprised?’
Her laugh enticed him. ‘Mother was thrilled and said she knew. Father...’ she paused and laughed again
‘...Father grunted.’
Rob smiled. He expected no more and no less from his father-by-marriage, though he knew that privately the Beast of the Highlands would be pleased. ‘And you feel well?’
‘Aye,’ she said, standing up on her toes to touch her mouth to his. ‘This time is completely different from the first.’
He touched her cheeks and lifted her chin as though examining her closely. ‘Not a bit of green at all.’
Lilidh stepped back and shook her head as she released the curls from their ties. ‘And the strange cravings that I had later in Tavish’s carrying have begun already.’
His body reacted, remembering some of the cravings she had that had nothing to do with food as he thought they would have. Nay, she craved...him!
When she tossed her gown and shift to the floor and watched him with hunger in her gaze, he tugged his belt until it dropped, letting his plaid join her garments on the floor. And when his erect flesh was revealed as he lifted his shirt, her gaze heated even more and she slid the tip of her tongue along her lips, sending heat through his blood into every part of him.
* * *
He had lost the ability to think at that moment and only discovered it some time later as they lay together in their bed.
‘So now the hard work begins,’ she said quietly, entwining their hands together.
Rob lost his breath at the thought of more of Lilidh. His flesh answered the call admirably, but her laugh as she pressed her lovely arse against him warned him that he’d misunderstood.
‘I meant in the talks. The hard work begins on the morrow now that you have them together.’ She turned in his arms to face him. ‘Duncan seems to support your efforts. And Rurik as well.’
‘Duncan knows the bargain is good for the MacLeries,’ he said. ‘Did you hear Rurik call me “Laird”?’
‘Aye,’ she said. ‘Not “Boy” any longer?’ Rurik had taken their battle three years ago in his stride, as he always did.
‘I have stepped up in his esteem, I think.’
‘And once this treaty is worked out, everyone will know how brilliant you are,’ she said, kissing him.
That moment in the hall came back to him and he shook his head in reply. ‘They should know how brilliant my wife is, since much of this was your doing.’
Lilidh caressed his face and leaned up on her elbow. ‘All of this is my doing.’
‘All of it?’ he asked, attempting to argue when at this moment with her so close he would allow her anything she wished or agree with anything she said, truth or exaggeration no matter.
‘I did ask my father to relent and allow you to enter the keep,’ she admitted. ‘And I did forgive you for your stupidity.’
As she slid her body against his, he nodded. Whatever she wanted...
‘And it was my idea that you should seek an alliance with the MacKenzies.’ Whatever she claimed...
She could claim that she had lit the stars afire in the night’s sky and he would agree with her, for her leg now rubbed up over his thighs, getting ever closer to... He swallowed against the tightness in his throat as her hand now followed the same path.
‘But my best idea was not to follow my parents’ custom and wait for everyone to retire this night,’ she said, the arousal in her voice making it deeper. He loved that tone.
He rolled then, trapping her beneath him, as he slid between her thighs and entered the place he most wanted to be. A soft sigh escaped her as they joined as one and no other words were spoken for some time. Then, exhausted from the passion they shared, he said the only thing that truly mattered.
‘You make me feel worthy, my love.’
Half-asleep, she only smiled at his words. Then, as she fell deeply into sleep’s grasp, he pushed the loosened hair from her face and kissed her gently. He knew he would treasure her always for making him worthy of her love.
Always.
* * * * *
He had crossed a line with her.
A very desirable and pleasing line, but one that an honorable man did not cross with an innocent unless there was an understanding between them.
When he attempted to step back she resisted, tightening her grasp on his shirt and leaning against him. She let him go but watched him with wide, intent eyes. Uncertain of what to say, he waited for her, expecting she would be overwhelmed by the power of the passion between them. When she did not speak, he finally found words.
“Do you regret this?” he asked softly as he leaned over and picked her shawl up from the floor.
“Regret?” She shook her head. “I regret only that you stopped.”
* * *
The Highlander’s Dangerous Temptation
Author Note
Back in 2005, when I wrote Taming the Highlander, young Athdar MacCallum did something stupid that started this entire series—he taunted the formidable half Norse/half Scots warrior Rurik, and the debacle ended with Athdar’s sister being forced to marry the Beast of the Highlands!
Athdar is now grown-up and laird of his clan. To many, he is cursed with the worst luck in women—having lost two wives, a betrothed, and with another woman thinking about marrying him! He has sworn off the fairer sex—until a young woman grabs his attention and he is drawn to her, unable to resist her.
Since I torment and tease my heroes all the time, it should be no surprise to you that when Athdar finally lowers his defenses, it is the daughter of his nemesis who brings him to his knees!
I hope you’ll enjoy The Highlander’s Dangerous Temptation, this next book in my MacLerie Clan series (which seems to grow monthly!). There are some serious moments, too,
as Athdar struggles with the sins of his past and as Isobel tries valiantly to help the man she loves face his greatest failures. But anytime Rurik Erengislsson enters the story, watch out—there is danger and humor ahead!
Happy reading!
THE HIGHLANDER’S DANGEROUS TEMPTATION
Terri Brisbin
To all of my readers,
You make me stay up nights, struggling to capture the words and images swirling inside my brain and to forge them into a story that’s worth reading! You make me want to write the next word, the next chapter, the next book, even when it makes more sense to give it all up and hit Delete. Your notes, mail, emails, Facebook posts encourage me all along the way and especially during those long, intense deadline binges o’writing.
All I can say is THANK YOU.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Prologue
‘Come with me!’ Athdar called out like the commander of his father’s warriors would. With his wooden sword brandished high in the air, he pointed deeper into the forest and nodded. ‘Our enemies have taken to the woods!’
Athdar led his friends, two his cousins and two the sons of a villager, all almost the same age as him, through the thick growth of trees and bushes. Following the rough path along the river, he sought any sign of movement deep in the shadows.
There! Something moved and he called out orders once more. Deer or some other wild animal—it mattered not to him what the target—scampered ahead of them as the sun’s light flickered through the leaves and branches above them. Laughing, they followed the sounds ahead of them as the creature outraced them. After some time and distance, the sound of the river quieted, telling Athdar that their path had changed. Glancing around, he realised that nothing looked familiar to him. Athdar paused for a moment and then raced off, calling for the others to follow him. Without warning, he reached a small clearing bordered by a gully, a remnant of the river’s previous path, that blocked their way.
He was tall enough, strong enough, a good runner and jumper, to make it across so he speeded up and crossed the pit with little effort. Skidding to a stop on the other side, he landed in a pile of leaves and quickly stood up.
‘Come now!’ he called out. ‘It is not wide enough to stop us.’
As the chief’s son, Athdar was used to being in charge and making the decisions for his ragtag collection of friends and followers. He waved them on now, waiting for them to obey.
‘Are you afraid to jump?’ he asked, challenging them to the edge. ‘Get a running start and you will make it.’ He saw the uncertainty on their faces and would not allow that to ruin their adventure.
‘Cowards!’ he shouted at them. ‘Only cowards would disobey their chief.’ The words burned his mouth as he said them, but he knew his friends only needed some encouragement to do as he did and cross the gully.
Athdar watched as they nudged each other, nodding and backing up to get a good running start to their jump. Smiling, he crossed his arms over his chest the way his father often did and waited for them to reach his side. One and then another soared into the air above the deep gash in the ground....
Their cries turned to screams as they plummeted down into the dark crevasse below them. Athdar watched in horror as the screams faded into a deathly silence. Only the sound of his breathing broke that stillness as he crept over to the side and peered down.
The bottom lay about twenty feet below him and his friends lay strewn across the small floor of the gully. Even his seven-year-old mind understood some were dead and the others badly injured. Arms and legs and heads twisted to impossible angles foretold of much sorrow.
He was the cause of this! Searching through his sack, he looked for the rope he always carried and could not find it. More soil loosened as he crept to the edge once more and poured down on his friends. A faint cough told him that someone yet lived. Shaking, he called out names until Robbie groaned back.
‘Robbie! I am coming down!’ he said, easing his legs over the side and planning to slide the rest of the way down to his friends.
This was his fault. His fault. He must help them.
‘Stay,’ Robbie moaned out. ‘Ye’ll be of no help if you get trapped here.’
Athdar paused, grabbing on to the exposed roots of a tree to keep from sliding down into the pit. ’Twas true. Without the means to pull his friends up, he was of no help. The winds rustling through the trees reminded him of the time passing. Soon it would be dark and new dangers would arise.
‘I will go for help,’ he called out in a loud voice. When no sound answered, he called out again, ‘Robbie! I will go for help!’
Gathering up his sack, Athdar glanced around, trying to get his bearings. They’d run through the forest from east to west. Or had they? Now, it all looked the same and he took deep breaths, trying to keep the panic at bay.
He had to find his way back home. He had to get help. He had to...
Athdar ran, ducking through the low branches, seeking the edge of the river.
* * *
It took him hours to find it and then he could not tell which direction was home. Every time he grew too afraid or too tired, he thought about his friends at the bottom of the gully and ran on. Night fell while he searched for home and he collapsed at some point, sleeping a few hours before waking and continuing on.
* * *
Daybreak found him no closer to finding home or help and he gave in to the terror and the guilt and cried for his friends.
And that’s when his father and uncle came charging through the forest on their horses. In a matter of hours, Athdar had managed to lead them back to the place where his friends lay injured and then he watched as the men in his clan rescued Robbie and the others from the ground below.
It was terrible. His heart hurt as each one was carried out. Only one moved and the silence as the boys were examined tore him apart. Soon, the completely desolate group made their way back to the keep.
Though the parents mostly whispered about the terrible accident, Athdar knew the truth—this was his doing. He had killed his friends just as much as if he’d pushed them from a cliff. For he had pushed them—with words, with insults—using their pride to edge them to the end and fling them into the darkness of the earthen pit. And when he could have saved them, he’d stumbled in the forest, losing his way and wasting precious hours that could have meant saving their lives.
And, even if no one pointed an accusing finger at him, he saw the sidelong glances and questioning stares as three of his friends were buried. He heard the whispered doubts about his part in it and wanted to scream out his guilt. But his father and mother tried to convince him it was not his fault and it had not happened the way he said it had. It was a terrible accident to be put behind him. A horrible event which would fade in time.
* * *
And it did. No one ever mentioned it—his father, the laird, forbade it. No one mentioned the children who had died or their parents who had moved away or the injuries to the other one who had survived. No one asked too many questions and Athdar was told relentlessly he must push it all away. In time, all thoughts and memories of it and those friends faded, until, within a few years, it was a muted, empty part of his past.
&
nbsp; A part he no longer remembered.
But someone remembered.
Someone mourned their loss and sought solace in the madness brought by the sheer anguish and pain of it.
And that someone decided to seek justice against the one responsible, even if he did not remember.
Someone remembered.
Chapter One
Lairig Dubh, Scotland—AD 1375
‘Look! Look! There he is.’
The excited whisper drew Isobel’s attention. Her friend Cora rarely took notice of the opposite sex, so this was something different, something special. She turned to see who her friend was watching.
Athdar MacCallum, brother of the laird’s wife Jocelyn, strode through the yard, heading for the keep. From the decisive way he walked, looking neither right nor left, he had business with the laird and would not be slowed from his task. Still, he was a fine-looking man to gaze upon.
‘He is leaving to return home,’ she said. At Cora’s questioning frown, she nodded. ‘My father mentioned it this morn.’
‘Will he be here for the evening meal, do you think?’ Cora asked, watching her closely for her reply.
Isobel wanted to show her excitement much as Cora did, but she held back. If she showed her interest in Athdar, word would make it back to her father and then trouble would begin. Just mentioning his name usually caused her father to look extremely bothered. And bothered was not something she, or anyone, wanted her father to be.
The half-Norse, half-Scottish natural son of the Earl of Orkney did not suffer fools easily and at some time in the past, before even her birth, Athdar had done something very foolish and her father would never let it go. It mattered not that Athdar had been young and tended towards brash acts. It mattered not that he had suffered for his misjudgement. And it mattered not that the result had brought Jocelyn MacCallum to Lairig Dubh as the laird’s wife. All that mattered to her father was that Athdar’s character was lacking then and possibly still. Isobel turned away from the path and faced Cora.
Terri Brisbin Highlander Bundle Page 42