Highland Treasure

by Mary McCall

  "He will keep me safe."

  Diable pawed the ground and neighed.

  "I cannot, Diable."

  Another neighed retort came from the horse.

  "He will keep me warm too."

  Shaking his head furiously, Diable stomped the ground.

  Hope settled her hands on her hips. “I know ‘twas your job, but he bloody well took it over."

  Diable glared at Leonce and tossed his head disdainfully. Returning his attention to Hope, he kissed her cheek.

  "Rest well, my beauty.” She caressed his nose one last time.

  The stallion whipped about. Leonce received a slap of long, flowing black tail in his face. He was certain he heard grumbling snorts as the horse disappeared into the forest.

  Hope glared after her friend. “You need to work on your cursed manners, Diable!"

  When the snorted reply drifted back, the warriors broke into belly-shaking laughter.

  "I will talk to him, MacPherson. He is usually nicer than that."

  "Saint Columba!” Bowyn hooted. “The beast put Alan in his bed for a week, and she called him nice."

  "Tell us, lad, how does horse hair taste?” Aonghus slapped his knee, and the warriors redoubled their hilarity.

  "'Tis not funny!” Hope glowered, hands fisted at her sides. “Diable's feelings are hurt because he thinks I abandoned him."

  Leonce grinned. “Do we also bid goodnight to the bird?"

  "'Tis an insult! Harry is not just a bird! He is a proud, magnificent eagle with great swiftness, strength and loyalty. And he is—” Hope ceased her tirade and smiled ruefully. “After his feast, Harry may not be able to lift his own weight. He probably acted like a glutton and sleeps now. ‘Twill be a few days afore we see him again."

  "Then may we seek our plaid, or have you befriended another creature that I do not know about?"

  She tossed him a saucy grin. “Only a lion."

  "Then come.” Picking up a torch from the fire, Leonce slipped an arm around her waist and guided her away from the camp.

  "Are you sure you want to leave the protection of this blaze, Chief, or do you plan to call the horse to protect you?” Bowyn's voice shook with mirth.

  Leonce kept walking and called over his shoulder, “A lion does not need a fire as long as he has his lioness, Bowyn. And the lady was right, Darach. ‘Twas a damn good jest."

  * * * *

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  Chapter Twenty-Four

  * * * *

  Leonce led Hope through the woods toward a cave that had provided him a private retreat in the past. Hope shivered and slipped an arm around his waist. “'Tis nippy. We may get cold away from the fire."

  "You'll not.” He gazed straight ahead, his expression even. If he didn't have her soon, his rod might break off.

  "Why did we leave the camp?"

  So I can plant myself inside you and get relief. “To be alone."

  She tucked a wayward lock behind her ear in a self-conscious gesture. “I am glad we are going to get some rest. Our warriors are bloody overwhelming with their attention, and this has been a cursed emotional day."

  Leonce grunted.

  "Where are we going?” she asked.

  A place where I can ride you all night long and no one will hear you scream. “You'll know soon enough."

  The path forked, and Leonce guided her toward the left. She looked exhausted. “'Tis much farther, this place?"

  Five inches is too far right now. “Far enough."

  Hope snorted. “You're a bloody conversationalist, are you not, MacPherson?"

  "Mayhap."

  Hope snorted louder. “Far enough for what?"

  "Far enough that they'll not hear your cries and moans at camp."

  She dug in her heels and struggled to get away. “Let me go!"

  "Stop that.” Leonce tightened his arm around her waist and pulled her hard against him.

  "I will not stop. I'll not allow you to do this to me.” She hit his arm.

  "Do you think to deny me, wife?” he asked in a steely tone.

  "Aye, and I'll cut out your cursed heart and spit on your grave if you try.” Her unclad toes kicked his solid shin. “Ouch!"

  "Why, you wee vixen. ‘Tis time you learned a well-needed lesson if you seek to be my wife.” Leonce tossed her over his shoulder with one arm, never letting go of the torch. Hope's breath left in a whoosh. He picked up his pace.

  "Put me down! I never sought to be your wife. You bloody well tricked me.” She pounded on his back.

  He popped her bottom with a cupped palm and left his hand in place.

  "Nay! You'll not do this to me!"

  Leonce ducked under a branch. “Aye, I will. I'll do it the whole damn night. When I get through, you'll beg forgiveness for all you put me through today."

  "I beg forgiveness now. Just do not do this cursed thing!"

  Leonce entered the cozy cave and placed her upon the center of a worn pallet by the far wall, away from the entrance.

  He placed the torch in an old, rusty bracket as Hope skittered back against the wall. He frowned at her, feeling the ominous tic pulsating under his cheek. The wall prevented Hope's flight, and tears welled up in her eyes. She slumped and shook her head in a despairing manner. “Oh please do not hurt me, Leonce. Please do not."

  Leonce could only stare. He remembered the bloodstained sheets from their wedding night. Had he hurt her so badly? Hell, just this afternoon she said she liked it. Mayhap ‘twould ease her if he went slowly and wooed her. He reached toward her and gentled his voice. “Hope, come to me."

  "Nay!” She cringed. “I swear I'll hate you if you do this after you promised you wouldn't."

  "I never promised—"

  "Aye, you did, and I bloody well trusted you,” she accused, her tone wounded.

  "Exactly what is it you think I plan to do?"

  "Beat me.” She bowed her head.

  Well, thank God ‘twas not his lovemaking that inspired such terror. And damn, but she was insulting him. “What makes you think that?"

  "You do not want your men to hear me cry and moan. I'll not either.” She glared at him. “No matter how hard you beat me, I'll not give you the satisfaction of my tears."

  Thank God she had her spirit back. Leonce could have laughed from sheer relief. “You're crying now."

  "Then I'll stop.” She wiped at her eyes with her fingers and sniffed.

  Lovemaking was still as new to her as he was. Leonce wiped a hand over his face and sighed. “'Twas not a beating that I had in mind."

  She eyed him warily. “You have another torture for me?"

  Leonce shook his head.

  "What then?” She closed her eyes as if she dreaded hearing the answer.

  Leonce waited until she looked at him again and curved one corner of his mouth into a salacious grin. “Do you truly wish to know?"

  After the briefest hesitation, she nodded.

  "'Tis glad I am to see you curious,” he said with a grin.

  "Are you going to tell me?” She looked away and clasped her hands.

  The poor thing was so frightened she couldn't take an obvious hint. He pulled the plaid from his shoulder and spread it upon the pallet. Then he faced her and slowly undressed. When he stood naked before her, he watched her gulp and gawk. “Take off your clothes and come to me, wife."

  Her brows knitted. “I do not understand."

  "What part did you not understand: the take off your clothes or the come to me?"

  Hope stood and stepped away from the wall. “You said you were going to make me cry and moan, and you did not want your men to hear."

  "'Twas your cries of passion and moans of pleasure of which I spoke."

  Her jaw went slack. “You mean you want me to be wanton?"

  "Aye.” He winked. “Very wanton."

  "Well I bloody well wish you had just said so.” Hope untied her belt and shrugged off her plaid. Whipping her gown over her head, she stood before Leonce
in all her naked splendor. “I'm ready."

  He raised a brow. “Where are the rest of your clothes?"

  She blushed and glanced down at her toes wiggling on the pelt. “I do not think I'll ever get used to so many layers."

  "Come to me.” He opened his arms. She hurried over, slipped her arms around his waist, and pressed her cheek against his chest. He enfolded her in the warmth of his embrace and inhaled her purely arousing female scent. “Do not ever insult me again by thinking I'm going to beat you."

  "I'll not.” She rubbed her cheek against his chest.

  He rested his chin on top of her head. “And you will trust me."

  "Aye, I'll trust you.” She petted his back.

  Leonce smiled. “And you will keep caring for me."

  She frowned. “'Tis cursed conceited you are, Lion."

  He flicked her nose and grinned. “Nay, ‘tis truthful."

  "What makes you think I care for you?” she challenged.

  "You told The MacDougall you cared. Did you lie?"

  Hope sighed and bowed her head. “Nay, ‘tis the truth, I do. I just didn't want to tell you unless you cared for me too.” Her voice became small. “Do you think mayhap you could someday care for me—even just a little?"

  He nudged up her chin and lowered his mouth for a tender, caring kiss. Fire ignited at the instant of contact. Leonce deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and drinking her passion. The contact turned molten. Her heart hammered against his chest in rhythm with his. Her hands caressed their way up his shoulders as a moan passed from her mouth into his. Her right leg rose and hooked around his thigh.

  Feeling her trying to climb his body, Leonce massaged her soft bottom and lifted her as her other leg wrapped around him. He lowered Hope upon her back on the plaid and pulled back, intent upon breaking the kiss so he could taste her elsewhere. A trilling feline growl issued from her throat. She clawed his back, and he responded with a deeper growl.

  Hope stared up at him with wonder in her eyes.

  Leonce let his eyes savor her body, and then he looked straight into her eyes. A lusty grin crossed his face. “I've a mind to feast again. I think I'll taste every speck of you.” He licked, nipped, sucked, kissed and stroked his way down her body and felt her shiver with erotic excitement.

  He moved back up her inner thighs and invaded the juncture between her legs where molten dew gathered. She tried to draw back from this shocking act. He reached up a restraining hand and massaged a breast. Then he laved her sensitive folds with his tongue.

  Tension coiled in her womb. His tongue slipped inside her feminine passage, and his carnal feast threatened to devour the core of her being. She sucked her lower lip between her teeth and bit down upon it to keep from screaming. Her body felt on the edge of a precipice in danger of falling. Lord help her; right now, she wanted to fall. Her hands fisted in the plaid at her sides as her body arched up toward his mouth and bucked against him.

  Leonce gritted as his groin pulsated with a need for release. He knew she was ready, but he wanted more. He wanted her insane with desire. Moving back over her, he fought to suppress his bounding need and brushed his lips against hers. “'Tis a sweet dessert, wife. Taste your nectar."

  His mouth seized hers in a consuming kiss. Hope clung to him, and he could sense the passion overwhelming her. He reached down between her legs and slipped a finger inside her, stroking a few times, and then pulled out. She whimpered into his mouth.

  Breaking the kiss, he lifted his body from hers. “Roll over."

  "I want you to finish.” She pulled on his shoulders.

  He chuckled. “Not until I've tasted the rest of you."

  "Now, Leonce!"

  "Nay. Roll over. ‘Tis a chieftain's order."

  Hope groaned and rolled onto her stomach. He chuckled in her ear before he sucked the sensitive lobe into his mouth, knowing he was sending waves of yearning roiling through her. He gave the back of her body meticulous attention with his lips, teeth, tongue and hands, knowing he was pushing her to the limits.

  Finishing his feast, Leonce moved over her and gently breathed hot air into her ear. “Do you remember the first thing you said after landing in my arms? ‘Twas a command."

  "I cannot think. Please, Leonce!"

  "I'll be granting your request, love, since you said please.” He rose up on his knees between her legs. “Bottoms up, wife."

  Lifting her hips, he probed her opening and nestled his hardness just inside. She pushed up on her arms, but he held her down with a hand on her shoulder. “Not yet, love. Keep your head down for me."

  He slowly moved into her. She bit down on her knuckle. “I thought you were not planning any cursed torture?"

  He chuckled and pulled out, letting his shaft rub against her moist juncture. “Do you not trust me, wife?"

  "Leonce, please!” She tried moving back, but he held her immobile.

  "'Twas a pitiful whine, my love.” He leaned down. “Please what?"

  "Put it back where it belongs!” she wailed.

  "Are you sure you're ready? I would not want to rush this."

  "Now, Leonce!"

  "Not until you give me what I want,” he growled

  Hope groaned between pants. “Anything! Tell me what you want."

  "More than caring, love. I want your precious heart."

  "Then I give it to you forever. Please, Leonce!"

  He gripped her hips and surged inside her, burying his pulsating shaft to the hilt. Their fervor quickly mounted, and her feminine muscle convulsed around him. She cried out in ecstasy. The intensity of the ripples flowing through her triggered his release. Holding her waist, he thrust deeply and roared, pouring his seed against her womb—their shared bliss branded his soul.

  Leonce eased Hope down and stretched out over her, bracing the weight of his upper body on his forearms and resting his lower half against her. Tiny pulses still throbbed around his shaft. He kissed her shoulder and then nuzzled his face against her hair, inhaling her sweet scent so erotically combined with his.

  Hope purred, savoring the euphoria washing through her. She turned her head to the side, resting her cheek against her forearm, with a complacent smile on her lips.

  "Did you mean it, Hope? Do I have your heart?” he asked.

  "Aye.” She opened shimmering sapphire eyes. “You've had it since about an hour after we wed."

  He raised a disbelieving brow. “An hour?"

  "I gave myself an hour to decide if I would keep my vow. I'll not be married to a man without giving him my heart. So from the moment I decided not to kill myself, my heart belonged to you."

  "'Tis a gift I'll treasure forever.” Satisfaction surged through him. He kissed her mouth, then pulled out of her and rolled onto his back.

  She snuggled against him, resting her head in the crook of his arm. He was almost asleep when her voice reached his ears. “Did you mean it, Leonce?"

  "Mean what?"

  "You called me...your love."

  "I meant it.” He picked up her hand and interlaced his fingers with hers. “Since the moment you fell out of that tree into my arms, you've held my heart in your precious hands."

  "What was the first thing I said to you?"

  "You truly do not remember?"

  She shook her head.

  He slipped a finger under her chin and grinned. “You said, ‘When you take me, Lion, you bloody well better keep me off my back.’ “

  A bright blush spread over her entire body, and she hid her face against his chest. He chuckled and slid his arm downward, absently caressing her derriere.

  "Did you mean that other thing you said?"

  "What other thing?"

  "You said you were going to do this to me all night.” Her fingers pulled free from his, and her hand rubbed tiny circles over his belly toward his groin, reawakening his lust. “If you did mean it, Lion, I'm thinking there might be another way we can do this without me being on my back."

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  Chapter Twenty-Five

  * * * *

  Hope awoke with a mighty stretch. A groan escaped her as every muscle rebelled and a pounding throb beat within her rump and loins. Zounds! She had grown soft!

  Her eyes flew open and scanned the cave. She sighed and relaxed. Thank the Good Lord that Leonce didn't hear her groan. He might decide her too delicate, and she wasn't about to let him think her fragile. Why, the man had shown her two more ways to mate without her being on her back and implied there were more.

  Thinking about last night—just where was he? She was cursed sick of him not being around when she woke. ‘Twould be nice to cuddle in the mornings. She closed her eyes and smiled.

  What if he had left her? She gasped. He wouldn't do that, would he? Mayhap he had rid himself of his lust and rethought his attitude about her enemy blood. “Why if he has, I'll bloody well ki..."

  Hope groaned as she rose with the thought. She wouldn't do anything. She felt as weak and pain-wracked as a brittle-boned old woman.

  With slow, torturous movements and a lot of groans, whimpers and determination, she donned her gown. Pleating the plaid seemed a major challenge beyond her limited strength. After forcing a few stretches, she swung her arms and walked around the small cave, trying to ameliorate the soreness. A worn pallet and a few odd bowls lay about. Someone had lived here at some point. Could it have been Leonce? Mayhap he would bring her back someday and give her a break from his overly solicitous warriors.

  She stopped moving and expelled a relieved sigh. She still felt sore, and the throbbing still pounded, but at least her bones did not feel as if they would snap. With her pain lessened, she shivered. “Bloody rot! Even late spring in the Highlands is cursed frigid."

  Pleating her plaid as fast as her chilled fingers allowed, she lay upon the garment, wrapped it around herself, and anchored it at her waist with her girdle. She secured her dirk and whip and grabbed the extra blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders. Then she returned to the campsite.

  Zounds! No sign remained that hulking warriors had trod the soil. She couldn't even find an ash from the fire that had blazed the previous evening. She shivered again, and her stomach growled. Where in perdition was Leonce?