“…I have no want or need of your services as you so tactlessly call it. I love my wife and could not possibly be more content. There is nothing you could offer me that would tempt me…” His voice was raised and she could easily hear it from where she was concealed around the corner. Something changed within her as she heard those words fly from his lips with such conviction. He loved her. Her heart melted inside her, leaving her ashamed for doubting him and embarrassed by her own jealous reaction. But she knew better now. She had learned over the past weeks that he was so much more than the blackguard the rumors had made him out to be.
She stared at the dark hallway that Kathryn had just stomped down in retreat, and then at the closed door of the bedroom as a plan began to form in her mind. She had been waiting for the right time to surrender to the desire her husband had stoked in her, and it had finally arrived. He had given her a special gift, even though he didn’t know it, and she intended to return the favor in a way that would he would never forget. Now, she would just have to find the courage to go through with it.
Chapter 6
The next evening, Abigail opened the door to Aryen’s bedroom, her own bedroom now, she thought firmly and breathed a sigh of relief to find it empty. Hastily she slipped out of the dress she’d been wearing, one that laced up either side so she wouldn’t need assistance, and swallowed her unease as she replaced it with a night gown. It wasn’t the gown that made her uneasy, it was the fabric itself. It was nearly completely transparent! She felt scandalous just wearing the garment in the room by herself, the thought of showing it off in front of her husband nearly sent her into apoplexy.
She bent to the fireplace to stoke the glowing embers back to a fire, when a startled voice surprised her, making her jump up straight and spin around.
“Sweetheart? Abigail? What are you…” His words trailed off his his green eyed gaze travelled down her scantily clad body and she thought his eyes couldn’t get any wider. He stared for so long she started to shift uneasily.
“Well? Are you going to say something?” She finally pleaded in a breathy voice, but it was all she could get out. Never in her life would she imagine acting so brazen, but something about it thrilled her to the bone and she felt strength beginning to return at the appreciative light in his gaze.
“I…I…” Aryen paused, swallowing hard before answering again. “I don’t know what to say. I…You.” He stopped again, just shaking his head, but a moment later, his actions made up for lack of words as he stepped close, crowding her with his much bigger body and wrapped his arms around her. He wasted no time as he lowered his lips to hers, his kiss searing through her obliterating any lingering doubts. Finally, he looked at her, breathless and panting, “You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen in my entire life, my wife, my love, I…I can’t thing of anything to say. You’ve completely struck me speechless.”
“No, Aryen,” She smiled up at him warmly as his words sunk into her heart and soul, “that’s all you have to say.” She didn’t get anymore words out before he was kissing her again, holding her as close as he could as his hands began to travel up and down her spine. She could feel every touch as if the gossamer fabric of the night gown wasn’t even there and a thrill of desire spiraled through her making her so dizzy she had to lean against him.
In the blink of an eye he had her from where they’d been standing in front of the now crackling fireplace to the bed. He didn’t even bother with the heavy coverlet or mountain of pillows covering it, throwing them aside heedlessly as he gently lowered her down and then not so gently followed her. His kisses grew deeper and deeper until she was lost in the passions he had swirling through her body. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, more intense, more all encompassing than she could have imagined.
Suddenly, Abigail felt a pang of regret for the past two weeks that she had tried to stay away from her husband. This, she realized, is what it felt like to really be alive, to really feel loved and cherished. And she couldn’t believe that he was her husband, the man she had come to care about. It was like she had known him her entire life rather than just a few short weeks.
She could feel him moving above her and she pressed her eyes open against the heaviness trying to drag her under. But as she saw him peel off his tunic and over shirt to reveal the muscled chest underneath her breath caught in her lungs. My god, he was beautiful.
“Thank you,” He said with a laugh and she blushed to the roots of her hair as she realized she’d said it out loud. She opened her mouth to say something but he cut her off with a kiss that burned through her and her embarrassment was completely forgotten as his hands moved over her body, sneaking under the thin fabric of the night gown and setting each and every nerve ending on fire.
A trembling started and moved from her toes all the way up her body and an insatiable need followed it, making her move restlessly on the bed and pull him closer. He laughed again at her eagerness but kept it at a slow, steady pace that was driving her to distraction. She needed him. She needed…something. And she needed it right now.
“Aryen, please, I need…” She trailed off, unsure of what words to use to explain the torturous desire twining through her but he just continued his gentle assault.
“It’s alright, my love, I know exactly what you need.” Those were the last words he spoke before he began trailing kisses across her cheek, down the hypersensitive side of her neck and then finally burying his face in the crook where the gentle curve of her shoulder began. With feather light touches he swept his hands up her leg, across her inner thigh to the very center of her and she almost jumped right out of her skin when his lightest touch set off an explosion inside her.
He knew exactly were to press, and the pressure to bring her right the edge of…something, but she just wasn’t sure what. It was something bright and golden and she reached for it but every time he would bring her close he would ease his touch just enough to bring her back down. And then he would start the process all over again until she was stretching underneath him, begging him with her words and her body to fulfill the need that had grown to unmanageable proportions inside her.
“Please, please…” She wasn’t even aware of the words that slid from between her lips and then finally, he was moving over her, his weight settling in between her thighs and it felt like heaven. It felt like exactly what she needed, even though she still wasn’t sure why.
“Abigail, are you…Are you ready, sweetheart? Ah, this might hurt a little, and the last thing I want to do is–.”
“Now, Aryen. I need you now.” Abigail pulled him close, pressing her hips upward and his hard length slid at her entrance. He groaned, trying to take it slow for her pleasure she knew, but she couldn’t wait any longer. She needed to know what was waiting for her on the other side of that shining cliff he’d teased her with.
In one motion she arched her back, hitching her hips against his and bringing him deeper inside her. She felt that moment, a tiny tearing sensation and then a mountain of pleasure as he slid all the way inside her. They both moaned together, and soon Aryen was thrusting, both out of control and panting as lust and desire overrode any other thought.
With a shriek of pleasure, Abigail hurtled over the edge and sensations exploded across her body in tingling waves that left her shattered and boneless. A moment later, Aryen gave a loud moan of his own, shouting her name as they came together.
Moments later, they were both asleep, drifting in blissful slumber, their arms and legs tangled together in a heedless pile, as man and wife.
Epilogue
Scotland, 1789
Abigail clenched the letter in her hands, her uncle’s scrawled handwriting bringing back memories of the events that had transpired almost a year ago. But things were different now, she was different now, so much stronger, and so much happier than she had been and she wouldn’t let her despicable uncle turn her life on its ear once again.
She cradled her arms around her middle, feeling the ba
be kick as the child responded to her riotous emotions. As an only child, she had always dreamed of having hoards of children of her own. A house filled with laughter and joy and above all, life and love.
And the best thing for her was that she was going to be sharing the life of this child with Aryen. The love between them had only grown more and more over the past year, changing her from a lonely woman content to live her life on the shelf to someone confident, strong, not only a wife but now a mother.
She knew she would love this baby more than she had ever loved anything or anyone in her entire life, and it warmed her heart to know that her husband was there right along with her.
She read the words again and shook her head as sadness swept through her and she had to swipe at a rogue tear that escaped despite her best efforts.
“Abigail?” Aryen’s soft voice calling her name had her instantly turning towards him. Towards the man that she had learned to love and cherish and had shown her just how sweet it can be when you share that love in return. “Darling, is everything alright? Is it the baby?”
She just shook her head, but couldn’t get any words out past the lump in her throat, so she handed him her uncle’s letter. He quickly perused the document, his face growing red with anger at each word.
“Why, that awful man, he doesn’t deserve to be there, he doesn’t deserve–.”
“Aryen, my love, it’s alright.”
“But, Abie, he…”
“I know.” She said simply, and sank into him as he pulled her close. In the past short year, her uncle had completely bankrupted the estate. He had lost everything to a life of gambling and excess. The home she had grown up in with her father, the home she had loved, was gone.
For a moment she felt sorry for her uncle, for his wasted life, but in the end it was because of him that she had fled the manor to chase after the infamous Black Lord of Scotland, and for that she would be forever grateful for him. She hoped he had a nice cell in the debtor’s prison he would surely find himself in.
“My love, are you sure you are alright?” He asked again softly as he cradled her close, his hand resting lightly on her burgeoning stomach. In only a few short months they would have their first child, and she hoped many more to come after that. Abigail placed her hand over his, soaking in the love and peace of the moment.
“Oh yes, so much more than alright,” She finally said as she leaned even closer against him, listening to the sound of his heartbeat under her ear, because more than anything, it was the truth. “I am absolutely wonderful.”
Chosen By The Russian Mafia
Chapter 1
“Come on, Alexei, one more job, and then you can leave clean.” The man on the other end of the line said in a heavy Russian accent, making Alexei shake his head in consternation.
“That’s what you said last time, Sergio. And the time before that. I told you, I’m out.” His own deep voice carried an equally thick accent, although his was slightly more rural. He preferred not to think of his lowly past. Nothing more than another mouth to feed in a family of thirteen, left to fend for himself as his drunk of a father spent most of his time buried in a bottle, and his mother had to turn to less than savory means to support them all.
The first time he had heard the word Bratva, or the brotherhood as the Russian mafia like to call themselves, Alexei was only seven years old. His mother had gotten in deep, too deep, taking clients in an area controlled by the Bratva, and they weren’t about to let some country prostitute eat into their business.
They had stormed into their house, killing his father and two of his brothers before his mother could make the deal. Alexei for her life. As the youngest, he would be the easiest to train, to turn into whatever they wanted. They had taken the deal, and Alexei had never seen his family again.
He pushed the memories away, shoving them deep into the black corners of his mind that he refused to look at. Despite his rough childhood, it had made him the man he was today, and had also given him the means to amass a vast fortune. He had climbed quickly up the ladder in the mafia, mostly due to to his extreme cleverness, innate understanding of business, and pure luck.
He couldn’t even count the number of times he had been at the right place at the right time, told the right lie, or met the right person, all because of his luck. Just thinking about it had him superstitiously digging the little metal medallion depicting Saint Christopher from beneath his expensive black button down shirt and kissing the back before tucking it safely away.
The first two million he had made had been the result of a series of desperate gambles that ended up paying off. He had just turned eighteen. Now, a decade later, Alexei had turned those millions into billions. He always took the greatest risk, because those were the ones that paid big. If you play small, you win small, he thought to himself as he toyed with the small glass paperweight on his massive black oak desk.
Sergio’s rough laughter cut off his rambling thoughts. “You never really get out, Alexei. I know that, you know that. The only difference is that I accept it.”
“I’ve given the Bratva more than my fair share. How many people have brought in more cash than me, eh?”
“It’s not about the money, Alexei–.”
Alexei snorted in derision and disbelief, and Sergio hastily corrected what he was saying.
“Okay, well, it’s not just about the money. It’s about your…abilities.”
Alexei couldn’t help but roll his dark blue eyes, even though he knew the other man couldn’t see it. They were a superstitious bunch. And they believed in Alexei’s luck as much as he did. The only problem was, he had gone straight. It had taken almost twenty painful years to dislodge the Mafia’s vicious claws and he really didn’t want to be back under their thumb. It was a very dangerous place to be.
“Will you at least listen to what the job is before you say no?”
Alexei sighed, knowing he had no real choice in the matter. It seemed like every time he thought he was finally free, they found a way to reel him back in.
“Fine, go ahead…” He sighed.
“Okay, so it goes like this. There’s a politician, who owes some money…”
Alexei listened with half an ear as Sergio explained the situation, making noises whenever it was appropriate as he picked up the paperweight again, staring sadly at the picture of the woman that was trapped forever inside it. There was only one thing that his luck seemed to always fail him. Love.
Chloe strode purposely down the cracked sidewalk, her freshly minted security pass gripped tightly in one hand. Her black high heels clicked aggressively as she glanced at her watch, and practically began jogging up the hill. She could see the capitol building now, but she was still a good ten minutes away, and fifteen minutes late for her meeting with senator Shields.
“Watch out!”
Chloe grunted as she hit something solid, very solid. And warm. And so deliciously masculine it took her a moment to realize that she had an entire cup of coffee dripping down the front of her cream colored pea coat.
“Damn it!” She swiped the handful of napkins out of the man’s hand, uselessly dabbing at the dark liquid already staining her jacket.
“I am so sorry.” He said in a Russian accent so heavy it took her a minute to process his words.
“No, please, it was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention, and I am so late,” Chloe looked back down at her coat, “and so screwed.” What was she going to do now?
“Here, take this.” He immediately shrugged out of his thick wool coat, a deep black that made his dark blue eyes look like the ocean. Not that Chloe had ever seen the ocean in person, having grown up in Washington D.C. her whole life, but what she imagined it would be like. Mysterious, fathomless, and ever shifting.
Before she even realized what he was doing, he had helped her out of her still dripping coat and had her wrapped in his clean, warm one. She took a deep breath, inhaling the dark, masculine smell of him. Chloe took a step back, for the first tim
e really looking at the tall stranger she had plowed into.
His sharply chiseled features jutted from his face like a mountain hewn by hard winds and bitter cold. It was a strong face, full of character and charm, and sexy as hell, she added to herself. Her own big amber eyes swept over his jet black hair, long, but slicked back, looking like he had run his long fingers through it more than a few times. His lips were full, and quirked into a lopsided smile as he watched her watching him. His dark, ocean blue eyes filled with humor, and some hidden heat that sent an answering flame shooting through her body.
December was a cold month in D.C. but Chloe suddenly felt overly warm, and had to resist the urge to fan her face with a hand, feeling her normally dark brown skinned cheek flush a pretty scarlet. The look in his eyes deepened to something else. Hunger.
Their gazes met for less than a second but the moment seemed to drag out, time slowing immeasurably as she felt trapped, unable to look away.
“kogda zvezdy vyravnivayut…” he murmured, his deep voice soft, and slightly husky in the midmorning air.
“What?” His whispered words pulled her out of her trance, and she took another step back, overwhelmed by her intense reaction to a complete stranger.
“Oh, it’s just something I say sometimes, when I’m feeling lucky.”
“Yeah, and what is that?”
He took a deep breath, and then released it on a huff of cold air before slowly answering, staring into her eyes.
“It means ‘when the stars align’…”
Chapter 2
Chloe took a rattled breath, looked down at her watch and shrieked. “Oh my god! I am so, so screwed!” She started running back toward the capital building, the man left standing, staring at her with dark blue eyes already forgotten as she rushed to now twenty minute late meeting with the senator.
HIGHLANDER: The Highlander’s Surrender Bride (Scottish Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance) Page 3