HIGHLANDER: The Highlander’s Surrender Bride (Scottish Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance)

by Tencia Winters

  “We are ready.” Caelin said, a statement rather than a question as he turned to face the huge double doors and jostled the reigns to get his horse moving. Lena sat directly behind him, her arms wrapped tight around him more for comfort than necessity. She wasn’t sure she ever wanted to let go.

  They stopped directly in front of the main doors, unnerved again by the ghostly silence, the empty feel of the place. She watched, her heart in her mouth as Caelin dismounted and strode to the doors, his look of surprise evident as it opened easily.

  “Baron Castlereigh,” He shouted loudly, his voice echoing through the nearly empty chamber. “Baron, show yourself!”

  There was a long, tense moment of silence before they heard the sound of scurrying footsteps. Shortly after, a young boy appeared, who looked no more than fourteen at most. His voice trembled as he spoke.

  “The…the b-b-baron is away, m’lord. He took everyone of fighting age to go attack another lord, and we just got back from a battle!” The boy said, still looking terrified.

  “So Castlereigh is gone, as is his entire army, and any one of fighting age, is that right?” Caelin said, the beginnings of a smile replaced the scowl he’d been wearing.

  “Yes, sir. That’s right.”

  “Fantastic.”

  “I’m sorry sir?”

  “There’s a man in your dungeons. I need him brought here immedeatly.”

  “Oh no, sire. We can’t! the baron…” He shook again just at the thought of displeasing his cruel master.

  “Also, let it be known,” Caelin spoke louder now, so that his voice carried, aware of all the eyes on him, even if he couldn’t see yet who they belonged to. “Let it be known that any who wish will find a good, fair home at Castle Acair.”

  Caelin thought of all they had lost over the past decades under his father’s rule, driven mad by bloodlust and greed. It was time to start a new legacy.

  “Everyone will have a home, and food to eat. All I ask is that the peace is kept, and every soul treated with respect and fairness.”

  The boy looked at him in utter shock at his words, but finally, after he had a piece of gold in his hands, the last piece that Caelin possessed, he fled back inside. Moments later, the young boy returned with Lena’s father.

  She cried out at the sight of him, jumping off from the back of his horse and running to him, wrapping him in her embrace. He was ragged, looking as if he hadn’t eaten in days and had a massive bruise on the side of his face, but as he stared up at Caelin his gaze was sharp, and disapproving at first.

  He would never know what Lena whispered to him that day to turn his gaze from hateful to wondering, but he was struck as the older man limped toward him. Old Eonan looked at him, his gaze piercing his for a long, tense moment, until finally, he did the last thing Caelin expected. He held out his hand.

  In a move that would shape generations Caelin extended his own, grasping the other man’s and beginning the peace that would last for hundreds of years to come. Still holding Eonan’s hand, he glanced over at Lena, who was standing with tears in her eyes. Tears of happiness, joy. Tears of hope for the future. For their future.

  The thought struck him like a lightning bolt and before he really even knew what he was doing he leaned closer to the older man.

  “Sire, I would request…” He paused, swallowing past the sudden dryness in his mouth. He hadn’t been this nervous charging into battle against one of the most notorious men in this part of the country. “Sire, I would request your daughter’s hand.”

  “Well, what do you want her hand for?” the other man said, his voice serious but his eyes twinkling in a merriment that Caelin did not enjoy.

  “Her hand in marriage, Eonan.” Caelin said, this time his voice was gruffer as he tried to stem the sudden nerves. The old Eonan stared at him for a long moment in silence before finally answering.

  “There has been feud in our families for more than a hundred years. Generations upon generations have shed each other blood. And you think you can end all of that?”

  Caelin just nodded, not needing to answer.

  “Lena is my only child. She is headstrong, and stubborn, and the kindest person you will find on this green earth. Will you love her, Acair?”

  Caelin glanced once at Lena, seeing her dark eyes shine in confusion, curious to know what they were talking about for so long, and then finally, he glanced back at the old man, his sincerity shining in his deep blue eyes.

  “That, more than any other thing, I swear.”

  The old man stared for another minute more before nodding his head, once, swiftly. Afterward he looked as surprised as Caelin felt that he had agreed to the match. Although Caelin had a sneaking suspicion that it was due more to the fact that he had just rescued Eonan from the clutches of the Black Baron than any real wish for an end to the blood feud that had shaped their lives for over a century, and had stolen his father’s.

  Now, his heart racing even harder, he turned to Lena, walking towards her slowly because he could barley get his legs to work at all. He hadn’t been that nervous since a lad and he had to clench his hands into fists at his side to keep them from trembling.

  “Lena, will you…” Caelin stopped, unable to continue for a moment as he stared into her gorgeous green eyes. And then he remembered all of her sweetness, all of the light she had brought into his life. When he spoke next, his voice was strong, all trembling ceased. Because he knew this was what was meant to be. This was the beginning of their legacy, and it started now.

  “Lena, will you do me the honor of becoming my bride? My wife?” He held his breath as her eyes widened, and then widened even further until they were all he could see. And still she didn’t answer.

  “Please, Lena. Say something. Say anything.” He whispered, his nerves suddenly back in full force. They fled for good as her beautiful face broke into a radiant smile and she threw her arms around him with a happy laugh.

  “Yes! Yes, of course!” She was laughing and crying at the same time, and he swung her around as his men cheered around them, news of their pending nuptials spreading like wildfire through the crowd. Unable to stop the silly grin on his face, he leaned down and kissed her, and finally, everything was right in his world.

  Chapter 6

  10 Months Later..

  “Come here, my love.” Caelin growl as he swept his wife off of her feet and into his arms, carrying her up the stairs and to their suite despite her protests.

  “Caelin, I have work to do. My father is coming and everything…”

  “I know, sweetheart. Everything has to be perfect. Don’t worry. It will be, do you know why?”

  Lena just sulked up at him from the cradle of her arms, shaking her head. He grinned down at her, distracted for a moment by her delectable pout.

  “Because you’re perfect.”

  She tried to maintain her surly expression but soon she was laughing up at him, her arms wrapped firmly around his neck as she snuggled into them.

  “Where are we going, by the way?”

  Caelin just waggled his eyebrows at her and he watched in amusement as a blush tinted her fare skin a darker pink. He was sure that by now she would have been past any sort of embarrassment considering all that they had done. It had been almost nine months to the day since their marriage and he had found he couldn’t get enough of her.

  “But Caelin,” she whispered, her voice carrying just a hint of shock. “It’s the middle of the day.”

  “I know.” He whispered back, no longer able to keep the grin off his face, and also unable to go another minute before kissing her. With a growl of pleasure, he quickly entered their bedroom, shutting the door with his foot behind them. He didn’t take his voracious mouth off of hers until his knees reached the bed they shared.

  Gently, as if he was carrying the most precious thing in the world, he laid her down on top of the bed coverings. Because to him, she really was. He just stared down at her for a long moment, soaking in her joy and beauty. S
omething he would never get tired of or used to.

  “Are you just going to stand their gawking all day or are you going to come down here and kiss me?” She demanded, surprising a laugh out of him. Her undeniable spirit and fire was another thing he would never tire of.

  With another laugh he jumped onto the bed, making sure to land just to the side of her and she laughed along with him. The humor slowly faded to be replaced by heat. A heat that burned him up and always had him wanting more.

  Suddenly, her mouth was on his, just as full of impatience, if not more so, than he was. He took it deeper, licking into her mouth in long, rhythmic strokes that had her moving restlessly against him.

  Before long, they were both going up in flames as Lena leaned forward, desperate to unclothe him and it took a long, breathless moment for him to undo the delicate little row of buttons running up the back of her dress, and he swore softly as some of them popped off to fly across the room in his haste.

  “I’m sorry, my love. I’ll get you a new one.”

  “I don’t care.” Lena whispered breathlessly into his mouth, and she was on him again, pressing him back into the mattress as she straddled his hips, her eyes squeezing shut on the indescribably pleasure as teased the tip of his hard length inside her. Rubbing back and forth as moisture grew, lubricating his thrust as he grasped both hips and arched his own upward.

  He groaned, deep and low as he sank home, exactly where he needed to be, as close to her as he could be. She mirrored his with a moan of her own and it triggered something primal within him, something animal. In the next moment he had her on her back, thrusting deep and fast inside her heat, losing himself in the rhythm of her as she arched her back to meet his movements. It was like the most beautiful dance, made even more so by the love he could see shining so brightly in the green depths of her eyes.

  Within moments, he could feel her tense underneath him as her body reached its crescendo, every muscle tightening down, squeezing him until he had no choice at all but to follow her over the edge of that steep cliff. Not afraid at all because he knew she would always be there waiting at the bottom for him.

  He melted bonelessly on top of her, reveling in the simple feel of her soft flesh against his, the way her arms twined so sweetly around his neck, and the words she whispered into his ear as his body slowly came back to itself. Words of love, words of friendship and understanding and trust. Words about their past and their future. Most especially their future.

  Then she said something that had him pulling back quickly, staring down at her wide eyed and hopeful.

  “Are you sure? I mean,” Caelin paused, swallowing hard as he watched her nod her head in affirmation, her beautiful, loving green eyes filling with tears of joy. “You really sure? You know for…for sure?”

  “Yes, Caelin,” Lena laughed up at him, her sweet embrace still wrapped around him as she looked up into his eyes. Eyes that she would love forever. “I am sure. The midwife even confirmed it. I’m with child.” She smiled up at him, and it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his entire life.

  “I’m going to be a father,” he marveled, shaking his head as his thoughts tumbled and whirled in chaos. “I’m going to be a father.” He repeated.

  “Yes, that is generally how it works.” She teased, and he laughed at himself. “The first ever child born of an Acair and an Eonan.” Lena whispered up at him, awe touching her voice.

  “That’s our legacy, sweetheart.” The legacy of love.

  Russian Billionaire’s Holiday Bride

  Chapter 1

  Janice Roe had always been fascinated by the way men of power and wealth sought high-rise living places. They did so with the same gusto that a fish sought water. Today was no exception to her fascination. She was sitting in the private office of a man who was capable of filling the national debt if he really wanted to. The office itself sat on the top floor of a skyscraper that had yet to be surpassed in height, marking it as one of the places for someone to be.

  It reminded her of medieval times, when castles were the standard for the rich and powerful. The bigger and grander, the wealthier a man was. And like all things it was a symbol of status. And what was true then was just as true now, as this building doubled as both the business headquarters and the living space of the man that had summoned her.

  Like a castle, this building had been built with chambers and towers high off the ground that had been meant to protect the nobility… the kings… the dukes… the barons… the earls… the men who were expected to keep everything going. But still, they always stayed well above ground.

  They just don’t care to be associated with the salt and dirt of the earth, she thought as she sat and listened while her client – or rather her client’s proxy – made his pitch.

  “My son is an idiot,” he said, leaning on his mahogany desk that looked so old it could have crossed the Atlantic with the Pilgrims. But the man’s accent was certainly not that of those early day travelers. His accent came from somewhere further to the east… the old Soviet Block, she recalled. He was one of the many that had left Communism behind to embrace Capitalism with both arms wide open and, in an ironic twist, found that he was really good at it for the man was worth hundreds of billions if not more. “No… he’s worse than that,” the old man corrected, “he’s a raging idiot!”

  Janice merely nodded, half interested. The old man wasn’t saying anything that she didn’t already know. She’d done her homework before taking this meeting and she knew what kind of a shit swamp she was about to jump into. But whether she was going to wade in it or swim was still a matter of some debate.

  The older gentleman – a loose term in this case, as he had spoken as anything other than a gentleman – leaned forward and double-fisted his hands, resting his forehead against the knuckles and giving a heavy sigh. His gray suit looked about as evenly matched as his temper. Janice wondered if all of the gray and white in his hair was earned from making his millions or just having to put up with his son.

  He was a stark contrast to her. She was big boned and her chocolate colored skin was offset by the blonde highlights that she had streaked through her jet black hair. Her business suit was not top-of-the-line, having cost her what most people made in a month, but still it was expensive enough to show that she was a woman that knew what she was about and that she needed to be taken seriously. That was usually enough in the eyes of others.

  “His situation needs to change… and quickly,” the old man added.

  “How quickly?” she asked, sensing an opportunity.

  “Twenty years ago,” the proxy said pointedly. “The boy has been a nuisance ever since he was born.”

  She knew it wasn’t an idle boast really. She had seen the pictures of the day the boy was born. His first act in life was to grope the cleavage of the nurse that had helped to deliver him. It had been dismissed as childhood innocence… back then. But no one had predicted that that single act was a prediction of the kind person that that baby would grow up to be. Fondling a woman’s breasts publicly had been the least of the stand-out things that he had done in his time. And as he had gotten older it had only gotten worse.

  “Children born into extreme wealth often have problems like these, Mr. Volkov,” she said knowledgeably.

  “God,” he spat in a second ironic-anti-Communism twist, “you sound like those head shrinking doctors that my wife hired to try and cure my son’s wild side.”

  She took the hit towards her profession. She’d expected it. “I didn’t get to be where I am without studying, Mr. Volkov. You say you need your son’s image to change, then that means playing hard ball. That means I’m going to tell it to you like I see it. You didn’t come to America to have your hand held, did you?”

  He looked at her over his folded hands and there was something that crossed his face that she recognized all too well. It wasn’t anger or resentment that he was feeling.

  It was approval.

  “You speak your mind
,” he said, his tone confirming what she had read in his face. “I like this about you.”

  She gave an appreciative nod.

  “Everyone that I have spoken to confirms that you are the top-rated image consultant on the east coast. Is that true?”

  She could tell when there was a hook in the water, but Janice had been swimming with sharks too long to know better than to bite. “You’ve seen my resume, Mr. Volkov. I’m sure it speaks for itself. But we’re not here to talk about my previous successes. We’re here to talk about how your son needs to shape up. Shall we get on with it?”

  “Straight to business, huh?” he said, his tone again approving. “I like this about you, too. Very well,” he adjusted himself in his seat, “the particulars then?”

  “I am all ears, sir.”

  He took a breath. “The holidays are approaching. My company needs to make a good presentation for Christmas. And my son is the only one who can do that.”

  “Unfortunate.”

  “I’m glad you understand.” He leaned back in his chair and adjusted his tie. “All of the attention that my son’s… exploits… have gotten has brought a great deal of attention to my company. Although this is not the kind of publicity that I need or want and it is damaging. Publicly, even socially, we are famous… to teenage girls who drool over the pictures of my son when he half-naked on a beach. But my investors… my board… they are not pleased. Profits and sales are down fifteen percent across the board because of this negative impact. They want things to change. And I want them to change even more than they.”

  She nodded. “Your son is supposed to inherit your company?”

  “That is the destiny of all great fortunes, Ms. Roe. My father and his father before him began this business and it was passed to me in my time. It must also pass to my son.” He took a patient breath. “But America has corrupted him… he acts more like an American than he does a Russian.”

  “You immigrated legally, Mr. Volkov. And your son was born here. By definition that makes him an American.”