A Highlander's Destiny (Digital Boxed Edition)

by Willa Blair

  She was feeling a bit saucy herself. “Feeling pretty good about yourself, are you? I bet I can make you feel even better.” Heat flared in his eyes as she pushed him over on his back and knelt beside him. She slowly raked her eyes down the length of his naked body and back up again, the way he had looked at her just moments before.

  He was so beautiful, and she wanted to kiss every inch of him. Her desire must have shown in her eyes, for he sucked in a breath, a shudder running down the length of his body.

  “God, Abby, you don’t know what it does to me when you look at me like that!”

  “I have a pretty good idea,” she replied, glancing pointedly at the proud evidence of his desire. He let out a surprised laugh, and she grinned in response before swinging her leg over him to straddle his thighs.

  His laughter stopped abruptly as she leaned over him, cupping his face between her hands and pressing her open mouth to his in a heated kiss. Pulling away, she traced her fingers over his cheekbones and strong jaw and then down the sides of his neck. She ran her hands over his sculpted chest and down his abdomen, watching in fascination as the muscles contracted under her fingertips.

  Abby scooted backward, spreading her hands apart over his narrow hips and around back to cup his buttocks, studiously avoiding his groin. She ran her hands down his strong thighs, heavily muscled from over twenty years of riding. She leaned forward again, pressing her lips to his belly button.

  She traced her tongue in a light circle around the small indentation, and then gazed up into the twin lasers of his eyes as she blew gently on the moist flesh. His head fell back against the furs, his whole body shuddering. She ran her tongue up the line of dark hair bisecting his abdomen, her hair falling around them in a curtain as she kissed her way up his body.

  “Touch me, Abby! I can’t take it—” Ian’s plea ended on a groan as she finally closed her hand around him. She kissed him, her tongue stroking his as her hand stroked his throbbing flesh. She shimmied backwards, trailing her mouth back down his body.

  She had both hands on him now, languidly caressing his hot flesh. She bent to kiss his belly button once more, running her tongue downward before pressing her mouth to the sensitive skin over his groin.

  “God, Abby!” Her hands moved on him with increasing urgency, her own body quickening with desire as she stroked him.

  “Enough!” His body shifted beneath her as his strong hands suddenly clutched her under her arms, dragging her up the length of his body. He held her hips as she sank down onto him. She shuddered at the sensation of his heated flesh entering her aching body. They gazed at each other for a long moment, emerald green eyes meeting silvery-blue, neither of them moving.

  Abby could feel him pulsing within her, and she shifted slightly. With a muttered oath, his hips arched upwards, and her body came down to meet his, setting off a frenzy of motion as their bodies surged against each other over and over again. Her eyes closed and her head fell back as her body rode his.

  Suddenly, he touched her where their bodies were joined together. She gasped, her eyes snapping open. She looked down to see his big hand splayed across her lower belly, his thumb grazing over sensitized flesh as he continued to thrust within her. She began to quiver, her breath coming in shuddering gasps as her body pulsed around his.

  He withdrew his hand, reaching up to pull her down to him. Their mouths came together in a heated kiss as he poured himself into her, their cries muffled against each other’s lips as they spiraled into oblivion.

  He fell back on the pallet, bringing her with him so that she lay draped over him. She snuggled her face into the hollow of his chest as he pulled a fur over their cooling bodies. She drifted into exhausted slumber tucked into his warm embrace.

  CHAPTER 19

  Ian awakened from a sound sleep. He blinked owlishly, wondering what had disturbed him. Abby was curled against his side, one thigh flung over his, her breath stirring his hair. He pressed his lips to her forehead and gazed at her as she slept. She was so lovely, and so very different from the ladies he’d encountered while making movies.

  Her golden skin had a dusting of freckles across her cheeks and nose, reminding him of how much she loved the sun. Most of the women he knew from his acting were pale as ghosts underneath their makeup, afraid to expose their flesh to the sun for fear of the tiniest freckle marring their skin. They chose instead to spend hours in the makeup chair to acquire any color whatsoever. Not Abby; she’d always been one to turn her face up to catch a few rays, even in the dead of winter in Scotland, where the sun’s rays were few and far between. As a result, she had a fresh and natural look that he’d always found so bonny.

  Her tawny hair lay draped over her shoulders and down her back in a satiny curtain, the strands rippled from her earlier braid. Although she would be beautiful to him even if her hair were as short as a lad’s, he was thrilled she hadn’t cut it in the years since he’d last seen her. He loved it long, loved the feel of it between his fingers, loved the way it alternately hid and exposed her body as she moved. He especially loved the way the ends of it tickled his skin when they made love, dragging over his already sensitized flesh. He ran his hand down the length of it now, and she stirred slightly without waking.

  Her brow furrowed slightly as she slept, and he wondered if she was dreaming about her forthcoming encounter with Andrew. The early light of dawn shone in through the cracks in the wooden door, bathing her naked body in a golden light as the sun rose.

  Sunrise? Oh shit! She’s not supposed to be here. That’s what woke you, idiot! He couldn’t let her be discovered here for a second morning in a row. Their lame excuse may have worked once—and Ian had his doubts about that. No way would Ewan tolerate her being unchaperoned in his cottage with her “grandfather” around.

  Ian shimmied out from underneath Abby’s sleeping form and began to pleat his kilt. Once he had it ready to go, he gently shook her shoulder.

  “Abby? Come on, love, it’s time to wake up.”

  Never one to be mistaken for a morning person, Abby finally opened one eye, a cranky frown on her face. “Wha’s goin’ on? It’s barely even light out yet.”

  “Aye, and so I may be able to get you back to Alannah’s before anyone spots you here. C’mon, mo cridhe, rise and shine.” He pulled his shirt over his head and put on his plaid. He looked down at himself; twisted around to see the back, and was pleased that it looked almost respectable. Not bad for a small space without much light to see by.

  With a bit more cajoling, nudging, and promises that he would make it worth her while later, he finally got her up and dressed. They slipped out of the small stone cottage to the barn, where they quickly readied the horses. They rode through the still-quiet village to Alannah’s, where the scent of bannocks and porridge wafting over them indicated that Alannah was already awake and cooking breakfast.

  “Abby, you really have to stop sneakin’ out. You don’t want people to think unkind things about you.” The look on Alannah’s face indicated that she knew all too well what that was like.

  “I promise to be careful, Alannah. I just couldn’t sleep last night, and being with Ian…comforts me,” she finished lamely, her face heating at the bemused expression on Ian’s face.

  Alannah arched one copper-colored eyebrow, her expression indicating that she knew there was more to Abby’s nightly visits to Ian than comforting, but she didn’t say anything. “Finish your meal and be off with you. I am sure Ewan and Grandda are gettin’ impatient. Ian, what will you be doin’ while Abby goes to meet them?”

  Abby and Ian looked at each other in surprise. “I’m goin’ with Abby, of course,” said Ian, taking her hand in his.

  “Are you certain that’s wise?” asked Alannah. “After all, you’re a Mackenzie. Grandda won’t take kindly to you bein’ here with Abby.”

  The hell with the old man! “I don’t care what he says!” Abby began, but Ian squeezed her hand slightly, and she fell silent.

  “Abby is my betrothed
, Alannah. The sooner everyone gets used to that fact, the better. I’m not ashamed of who I am, but I do see your point. I just won’t mention to Andrew that I’m a Mackenzie right now. I’m sure Ewan will be all right with keepin’ quiet about that for the time being.”

  Alannah looked uncertain, but didn’t argue. “Whatever you think best, Ian. Now, get on with the two of you and let me clean up.”

  “You’re not coming with us, Alannah?” Ian looked surprised, and Abby realized that she’d never told him about Alannah and Andrew’s strained relationship. Not that she knew much to tell.

  “Nay, I’ve things that need to be done here. I’ll see you later. Now, go.”

  ****

  Abby and Ian cantered down the dirt road to the meeting room, neither of them speaking. They rode into the barn and unsaddled the horses before turning them out into the paddock to graze. Ian took Abby’s hand as they approached the meeting room. He stopped her just outside the door and clasped her shoulders in his big hands. His expression was serious as his emerald eyes searched her face.

  “It will be all right, Abby. If it goes badly with Fraser, then tonight we take the horses and ride for the portal, and the hell with this place and the damned feud, aye?”

  “Okay,” she whispered, hoping it wouldn’t come to that, but comforted by the knowledge that he would get her out of there if it did.

  Ian leaned close and kissed her forehead. “Let’s get this over with.”

  They entered the large room, where Andrew sat in the same chair at the head of the table. Ewan sat to his left, and a few of his men sat in chairs around the table. At the sound of the door closing, everyone looked up, and Andrew’s solemn features relaxed into a small smile as he spotted Abby.

  “Granddaughter! I’m glad you’re here. I’m feelin’ more like myself after a night’s rest, and we have much to talk about. Come, sit by me.”

  With Ian’s hand on the small of her back giving her strength and courage, Abby approached the table. Andrew stood up, his smile widening, and she noticed that he looked like a different man than the one she met the day before.

  He had obviously bathed and changed his clothes. His hair was clean and tied neatly back. Some of the pallor was gone from his face, the shadows under his eyes were definitely less pronounced than they had been, and he was standing much straighter. He looked 10 years younger than he had the day before.

  Was that all because of her?

  “Hello, Grandfather,” Abby said, with a bit more confidence than she’d had the day before. “How are you today?”

  Andrew opened his mouth to reply, and then his gaze shifted to look over Abby’s shoulder. His eyes narrowed, and his nostrils flared like a crazed horse. A red flush stained his wrinkled cheeks.

  “What the hell is that man doing in here?” he yelled.

  Ian’s hand on her back stiffened, his body growing taut as though someone had jerked him upright from behind. Abby felt the tension ripple throughout his body as the room grew silent.

  Ewan stood up, his face expressionless. “What do you mean, Andrew? Do you know that man?”

  Andrew spun sharply to his left, his furious gaze piercing Ewan. “What mean you by this, Ewan? First you surprise me with a granddaughter I never knew I had, and now you let this…this Mackenzie—” he spat out the word “—escort Sorcha’s daughter into this room as though he were an honored guest!”

  “So you do know him, then?” Ewan seemed unfazed by Andrew’s tirade.

  “Don’t play games with me, lad! You know as well as I do that I’ve never laid eyes upon that man in my life,” said Andrew, his lips curled in a sneer. “But as sure as I’m standin’ here, he’s Duncan Mackenzie’s whelp. He looks just like that bastard did when he stole my Catriona away from me! How dare you allow that man to walk freely in this village and lay his filthy hands on my granddaughter? This is who I left to oversee the safety of this village?”

  He shifted his glare to Abby, who had been staring at Andrew in horrified fascination, unable to look away. “And you! You let him touch you? That makes you a slut, just like your aunt and your cousin!”

  Abby felt like she’d been slapped. Never before in her life had she been spoken to that way, much less by a man who thought she was his granddaughter!

  Ian brushed past her and was in Andrew’s face before anyone could react, his fury radiating from him in almost tangible waves. Andrew stumbled back until he hit the chair behind him. He lifted his chin defiantly, though there was fear in his faded blue eyes.

  The other men in the room leapt to their feet. Ewan waved them off, and although they left their weapons sheathed, they stood tense and ready to draw them if necessary.

  “You will take back everything you just said, old man,” snarled Ian. “Startin’ with what you said about Abby, and then workin’ your way backward till you get to my father.”

  Andrew bared his teeth in a nasty smile, clearly pleased at having gotten to Ian. “Why should I take anything back? Your father ruined my daughter by seducing her away from her family, and then he killed her with his foul seed. He is the cause for three decades of Mackenzie thievery and pillaging. And it seems that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. I don’t know what devilry you used to seduce my granddaughter, but I will not stand for another generation of Fraser lasses being ruined by Mackenzie filth!”

  Ian raised his clenched hand, and Abby gasped in horror at the metallic swish of swords being drawn throughout the room. Oh God, they thought he would strike down Andrew! And if it weren’t for the weapons being pointed at him, Abby would tell him to do it.

  She had to do something. Without regard for her own safety, she ran forward and grabbed Ian’s raised arm, ducking under it to put herself between him and Andrew. She turned to face Ian, whose hate-filled eyes burned like green fire.

  “Ian, no! It’s not worth it. Please, it’s just some foolish words.”

  Ian turned to face her, using his free hand to gently move her so that his body was between her and Andrew. “I wouldn’t have hit him, Abby,” he murmured, the anger in his eyes fading slightly as he looked at her.

  “I know,” she replied. “But they don’t know that.” Ian glanced up, realizing for the first time that he was surrounded by men armed with drawn swords and dirks.

  Only Ewan’s hand remained on the hilt of his sheathed sword. “Stand down, all of you,” he ordered. “Everyone but Andrew, Abby, and Mackenzie get out, and do not come in unless I tell you to.” Looking disgruntled that they weren’t allowed to kill anyone, Ewan’s men sheathed their weapons and filed out.

  When the room was empty of all but the four of them, Ewan turned to Andrew. “I’ll not listen to you speak of the lasses like that, Andrew. Any of them,” he added. “Catriona’s long gone now, and it’s a sin to speak ill of the dead. And you know nothing of Abby, how can you speak that way of her?”

  It did not escape Abby’s notice that Ewan made no mention of Alannah, though she had certainly been included in Andrew’s diatribe. There was something in Ewan’s eyes, though, that told Abby that Ewan hadn’t forgotten Alannah; he was choosing not to speak of her.

  Before Andrew could reply, Ewan continued. “Andrew, you said that Ian here is the image of Duncan Mackenzie, aye? Are you certain?”

  Andrew shot Ewan a withering glare. “Are you daft, lad? I see Duncan Mackenzie’s face in my dreams every night. He is always dragging my Catriona away from me as she’s kicking and screaming. The man before me has the same face as the demon in my dreams.”

  Abby was ready to grab a dagger and carve out Andrew’s tongue, but Ian merely remained where he was, his hands clenched at his sides.

  “I was born many leagues from here, five goddamn years after Catriona died and my father left this place,” Ian snarled.

  “How dare you speak her name, whelp?” Andrew’s expression was murderous.

  “No, how dare you speak her name, old man? I’m willing to wager that you’re the reason why she had troub
le carrying the bairn and died in childbirth. It made her sick that you so callously disowned her for marrying the man she loved.”

  Andrew flinched as though Ian dealt him a physical blow. He gaped like a hooked fish and sank down in his chair.

  “Enough, Ian,” interjected Ewan, surprising Abby with his use of Ian’s first name. Always before he had referred to him as ‘Mackenzie.’ “There’s no point to having this argument now. Andrew, look at me.”

  Ewan waited for Andrew to comply before continuing. “The point I’m tryin’ to make is that Ian Mackenzie was born after Duncan left here. That means that Duncan was hale and whole when he left, and he survived to father other children far from here.”

  “And you think it makes me happy to know that he went on to live his life while my daughter bled to death birthing his bastard?” Andrew’s words were still harsh, but lacked some of their earlier steam.

  Abby finally spoke up. “Grandfather, don’t you see? Ian is proof that you didn’t have Duncan Mackenzie killed! We can finally end the feud!”

  Andrew looked at Abby with disgust in his eyes. “I couldn’t care less about the damned feud. All I know is that Duncan Mackenzie ruined my family and caused the death of my daughter. And if you choose to consort with his son, then you’re no granddaughter of mine.” With that, he got to his feet and started toward the door.

  Abby had had enough of his vitriol. She stepped around Ian, planting herself in Andrew’s path.

  “How dare you?” she hissed at Andrew, anger replacing the fear that had crippled her these last two days. No matter what position of importance Andrew Fraser held in this village, she’d be damned if she’d meekly let him speak that way.

  “How dare you stand there and speak that way—about your own daughter and granddaughter, for God’s sake? Catriona was your daughter! She married the man she loved, and carried his child; was this such a terrible crime? And what about her child? She was an innocent baby, dead before she took her second breath. Does your hatred include her as well? And after driving away two of your daughters, I would have thought you would embrace Alannah and give her all the love you denied Catriona, rather than insult her in a room full of her kin!”