Brenda Joyce, Terri Brisbin, Michelle Willingham

by Highlanders - The Warriorand the Rose; The Forbidden Highlander; Rescued by the Highland Warrior

  “Let go,” he ordered against her skin, taking the other nipple. “Celeste, stop fighting me.”

  She didn’t know what he wanted, but when he began to suck hard, her fingers dug into his hair. He rubbed against her, his hands demanding a response she couldn’t bear.

  Then he added a third finger, and his thumb pressed her hard. A scorching release soared through her and she cried out, bucking against him as he filled her with his fingers. Her body was like melted tallow, pliant to him.

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop myself,” she murmured, feeling embarrassed at what had happened.

  A dark laugh broke through him, and Dougal helped her to stand, wrapping her in the linen drying cloth. “I wanted to pleasure you, Celeste. And we’re not finished yet.”

  She stepped out of the tub, her skin freezing at the cool air. Dougal kept her covered in the linen cloth while he led her toward a small pallet in the corner. It was covered with fur, and he took a moment to dry her off before laying her back against the soft coverlet. He stood before her, his eyes searing as he unfastened his trews and finished undressing.

  His body was lean and powerful, his legs muscled from riding. And his manhood was heavy and erect when he knelt down beside her.

  “I’m cold,” she whispered, beckoning for him to lie atop her. His skin was warmer than she’d expected, and Dougal pulled another coverlet atop both of them. He rested his body weight on his forearms as he stared down at her.

  “I don’t think this was what you intended when you asked for my protection.”

  She shook her head, but moved her legs apart, bringing his aroused manhood directly in contact with her slick heat. Although it had never been painful with Edmon, neither had she craved his body inside hers.

  She wanted to feel Dougal moving within her, and she pressed her hips against his. Yes, this was exactly what she’d hoped for several days ago. But she’d never dreamed it would feel like this. “I trust you,” she whispered.

  Lifting her knees, she guided him inside her, her body stretching against his fullness. “Yes,” she breathed, marveling that it could be this good.

  Dougal’s face was strained taut, but his mouth trailed down the column of her throat in a wet path to her breasts. As he suckled one, he plunged in deep, intensifying her arousal. She felt the answering pull, her body needing his.

  Slowly, he moved within her, a fluid rhythm that felt so good, she pushed back, welcoming the thrust. He raised one of her legs over one hip, and in his eyes, she saw the man she’d loved for so long.

  She’d been wrong to leave him. Dougal never would have let anything happen to her, nor would he have let her starve. The two years she’d spent with Edmon paled in comparison to one night with this man.

  “More,” she urged, holding his hips. He guided her legs around his waist, elevating her hips until he penetrated harder. Over and over he plunged, forcing her to meet each thrust.

  “Look at me,” he commanded. “I want to see your eyes when I’m inside you.”

  She did, and the feral look pulled her apart. He was marking her, forcing her to see the man who was pleasuring her. And God above, the intensity was mind-stealing. He was raw and untamed, quickening the pace until she could do nothing but hold fast and surrender.

  Liquid heat pulsed inside, and she shuddered, climaxing around him as he continued to drive inside her.

  “Let go,” she pleaded, grasping his face with her hands. She couldn’t bear much more of this. But he only kissed her hard, continuing the relentless rhythm. As if he was trying to drive out the memories of any man but him.

  She couldn’t catch her breath, for it was coming in swift gasps, until at last he came in a fierce thrust. His breath shuddered as he pumped inside her, his arms gripping her hard.

  Their bodies were joined in a way that made a mockery of what her marriage had been. This was what it meant to share a man’s bed. She’d never known, and though Dougal was still buried deep within her, there was a joy that he’d awakened.

  “I liked that,” she murmured with a lazy smile, pulling him into a kiss. But neither of them spoke of what the morrow would bring. And she could not say what would happen anymore.

  There could be a child, a memory of this night. A child who would save both her and her sister. A wild hope filled her, that perhaps she could have everything. She could reclaim Eiloch, and later bring Dougal back to stay with her.

  But when he rolled over, curling his body around hers, a sense of darkness surrounded her. No. He would never give his child another man’s name. If he knew that she had wanted him in her bed for that purpose, he would never forgive her.

  Once again, she would have to choose, for she could not have both.

  * * *

  DOUGAL AWOKE IN the middle of the night to find Celeste naked in his arms. Her body was warm, her hair tangled down her back. He stroked the length of it, and her mouth pressed a sleepy kiss against his chest.

  Though he’d grown hard and his shaft was demanding more, he held back. She was not a virgin, and he could claim her again if she would have him. And yet...even though he’d sated his lust, he’d sensed that there was more at play here. She’d had a reason for inviting him into her bed, and he could not guess what it was.

  He moved her atop him, enjoying the sensation of her naked body against his. He caressed her skin, down her spine to her round bottom. Almost immediately, his shaft surged against her.

  “Is it morning?” she murmured, raising her head.

  “Not yet.” He reached up to explore her skin, and she startled him when she raised up, easing his erection against her. She wasn’t entirely ready for him, but he stroked her, kindling the response he wanted. She was tentative, almost hesitant in the way she held herself. But as her body relaxed, he felt the wetness between her legs. This time, when she pressed upon him, she glided easily.

  “We can’t stay here,” she whispered. “Your brother said we have to leave before dawn.”

  “Soon.” He lifted her up, reveling when she sank down against him. As she moved in rhythm, he was torn between wanting to hear her cry out in release...and questioning why she had chosen to lie with him.

  Aye, it was an intense pleasure, one he welcomed. But he suspected that this time together would come to an end.

  Dougal disengaged from her, never minding that he was brutally aroused, his body slick with her wetness. She misunderstood what he wanted and instead rolled to her side, her hand curling around his shaft. Carefully, she guided him back inside her, but the new position didn’t bring him deep enough. He guided her onto her hands and knees, reaching to cup her breasts while he entered her from behind.

  For a moment he teased the hard nipples, feeling the way she clenched at him within her depths. But when she backed against him, he forgot what he was doing and lost himself as he grasped her hips firmly and claimed her.

  Mine, he thought savagely as he invaded and withdrew. He wanted to brand himself within her, to shatter apart her senses until she remembered no man except him. She was meeting him with every thrust, until he grew so hard, he was afraid of harming her.

  She lowered her torso to the ground, raising her backside in a way that increased the sweet friction.

  Did she think he was simply going to let her go after this?

  No. He wanted more than that. He didn’t want her to leave him again. Though he would keep his promise to help rescue her sister, the girl’s freedom would come at another price.

  He wanted Celeste.

  He wanted to spend his nights in gloried lovemaking and his days making her happy. He wanted her to admit her mistake, agreeing to come back to Glen Arrin with him. She’d been the woman he’d loved for so long, the woman who knew how to get beneath his skin.

  And when she was crying out in wicked release, begging him to end the torment, he filled her with his seed, collapsing atop her.

  Nothing would force him to let her go. Not after this.

  CHAPTER SIX
<
br />   IN THE DARKNESS, Celeste put on the gown Marguerite had loaned her. Dougal was sleeping hard, his naked body revealed against the fur pallet. It was quiet within the fortress, and she wanted a few moments alone.

  They had spent too long together, making love. She’d been unable to resist him, and now there was no time to escape, no time to ride away with him. She stepped into her shoes, closing the door behind her.

  Within the fortress, every archer stood on the battlements, their bows at the ready. Callum was among them, and as soon as Marguerite spied her, she pulled her back inside.

  “Don’t. They’ll see you.”

  But Celeste ignored the woman, moving along the wall until she reached a crevice that allowed her to see outside the fortress. Lord Eiloch’s soldiers were waiting, surrounding them on all sides. There was no means of escaping them without bloodshed. And it was her fault for drawing them here.

  She leaned back against the wall, understanding that many lives would be lost. Possibly even Dougal’s, if they dared to fight back.

  From behind, she heard footsteps. Dougal had awakened and dressed so quickly his tunic hung open.

  “Stay with Marguerite,” he ordered. “We have archers. And Callum is better than all of them. They won’t make it past the gates.”

  “After you’ve killed them, Rowena will send an army here. They’ll butcher your family.”

  “Not if we kill them first.”

  She could not allow him to start a war. Turning to face him, she saw the fervor in his eyes. He intended to fight for her, no matter what the cost.

  “No.” She moved past him, toward Marguerite. To the woman, she asked, “I want to invite Lord Eiloch inside. I would speak with him now and see if we can come to an agreement without any fighting.” It was time to stop running and do what she could to save them.

  “Only if he comes alone,” Dougal said. “His men must stay beyond the gates.”

  * * *

  LORD EILOCH KEPT his hand upon his sword when he entered. Dougal remained at Celeste’s side, uncertain why she was surrendering so easily. Did she not believe he could defend her? His anger was barely in check, and he was itching for a fight. If the man made one move to harm her, he’d find himself dead.

  “I know why you left,” Lord Eiloch began, his gaze fixed upon Celeste. “But it won’t work.”

  He raised his eyes to Dougal and a smug look crossed his face. To Celeste, he added, “I suppose you took him as your lover, didn’t you? You thought to conceive a child and pass your bastard off as Edmon’s.”

  The stricken look on Celeste’s face was worse than a blow to Dougal’s stomach. It spoke of a truth he’d never imagined. A child? Was that the reason she’d come this far?

  When he sent her a questioning look, tears formed in her eyes. Tears of guilt.

  A numbness settled through him, for he’d never imagined she would use him in that way. Was she already pregnant when he’d lain with her last night? Or was Lord Eiloch speaking the truth, that she’d lain with him to conceive a son?

  “I sought sanctuary with the MacKinlochs,” Celeste said quietly. “Because your wife tried to murder any child I might have conceived.”

  A darkness clouded his judgment, and Dougal hardly heard the rest of the conversation. All he could think of was the way she’d behaved these past few days. She had kissed him first and had tempted him each moment they were alone. Even last night, she’d asked him to tend her in the bath, knowing it would lead to a night of lovemaking.

  A night where she intended to steal a child from him.

  His anger was so strong, he began to walk away. He didn’t care what she did or where she went. The door struck hard behind him, but he continued his path forward. She could go or stay; it made no difference anymore.

  She used you. She never wanted you at all, any more than any woman ever has. Even your own mother didn’t want you.

  The words taunted him, digging into his conscience. As an adolescent, he’d poured his rage and grief into fighting, lashing out at anyone and everyone. But it had done nothing to heal the emptiness there. After his brothers were freed, it had calmed his unrest, but still he preferred solitude.

  He’d been a fool to think that Celeste might love him. And he deserved the humiliating shame she’d evoked.

  Dougal made it as far as the stable, where he took Ivory out of the stall, preparing her to ride. But hurried footsteps approached, and he was well aware that Celeste wasn’t about to let him leave without confronting him.

  “Lionel was wrong about what he said.” She stood in front of the doorway to block him from leaving.

  He stepped back from the horse, moving closer. “I don’t believe you. At every moment we were alone, you offered yourself. I should have known better.”

  She paled and lowered her gaze. “I let go of that idea within a day. It was a desperate thought, one I couldn’t bring myself to do.”

  The lies were an acid, burning at his mood. She stood there like a martyr, willing to sacrifice herself to save his family. He closed in, bringing her back against the wooden stall. “And last night, you decided to lower yourself after all. To me, a man you would never consider marrying.”

  “You’re wrong,” she said, her hands clenched at her sides. “I loved you. I still do.”

  “You’ve gotten good at lying.” He led Ivory forward, stopping in front of her. “Is that why you invited me in your bed? To steal a child and pass him off as your dead husband’s?”

  She shook her head slowly. But he couldn’t believe a treacherous word she said. He pushed his way past her, taking Ivory outside.

  “Dougal, don’t go,” she pleaded.

  “Why not? Because you want me to continue warming your bed until you find a man worth marrying?”

  She gripped her waist as if he’d struck her. A tear spilled over, but she didn’t stop him when he took the horse. Nor did she say a single word when he left her standing there.

  He never wanted to lay eyes upon her again.

  Three days later

  SHE SHOULD HAVE known Dougal would despise her after what she’d done. And though the night she’d spent in his arms had been her choice, he wouldn’t believe it after Lord Eiloch’s words. Worst of all was the bleak emptiness stretching before her. She’d never expected to feel so alone, as if she was walking away from hope.

  Celeste saw no choice but to return with Lord Eiloch. He would only fight against Dougal’s family if she dared to refuse.

  No longer did she care about her widow’s portion of Edmon’s estates. She was weary of the scheming and living her life in fear.

  “I will return with you of my own will,” she told Lionel. “Leave the MacKinlochs in peace, and I’ll surrender my husband’s lands to you. All I ask is that you allow me to take my sister away, with a horse and a few of our belongings.”

  “What of any child you might bear?” he asked, his voice threaded with wariness. “That was your intent when you left, was it not?”

  She met his gaze evenly. “If I were to have a child, it would not be your brother’s,” she admitted. “There is nothing to stop you from claiming Eiloch as yours. I will swear to that.”

  His posture relaxed visibly, and she was startled when she sensed an apology in his tone. “It was never my intent to force you out of your home.”

  “I am not wanted there,” she said. “Rowena would make our lives a misery.”

  He looked away for a moment, as if he’d known it. “She is a difficult woman to understand. She holds great ambitions, and she would lay down her life for one of our children.”

  She would lay down my life, too, thought Celeste, but she didn’t say it.

  “Where will you go when you bring Melisandre with you?” Lionel asked, keeping his horse beside hers. “Back to Glen Arrin?”

  “Perhaps.” She believed Nairna and Laren might grant her sanctuary. And although she had wounded Dougal’s pride, she wanted a second chance.

  The thought of
walking away, of never seeing him again, upset her in a way she’d never expected. He’d left her behind and likely would not forgive her for what she’d done. She ought to simply let him go.

  But she didn’t want to. Not like this, with him loathing the sight of her. She’d made mistakes and needed to atone for them. Not only that, but if there was a child after their night together, he deserved to know about it. Pretending it hadn’t happened was a coward’s path.

  A sudden thought struck her with a jolt of hope. Or perhaps she could pretend that it had happened.

  If she was carrying his child in her womb, he would not turn her away. Her imagination fired up with determination. This time, she would fight for the man she wanted.

  * * *

  IT WAS A fortnight before she returned to Glen Arrin with her sister. Celeste rode her husband’s Arabian stallion. Titan, while Melisandre took a tamer gelding. Titan was black with a white star on his forehead and white markings above his hooves. He was slightly larger than Dougal’s mare and was more difficult to manage. All through the journey, the animal was stubborn, trying to take her in whatever direction he wanted.

  “Dougal is welcome to you,” she informed the stallion. In answer to her remark, the horse veered left and began to graze.

  Melisandre smirked. “He has a mind of his own, doesn’t he?”

  Celeste dismounted and seized Titan’s reins, guiding him away from the grass and forcing him back onto the path. “Not for long. Once Dougal gets him, he’ll make him behave.”

  Though she spoke as if it were nothing, inwardly she was nervous. The last time she’d left Dougal, he’d been so angry with her. He might not believe anything she said.

  “And he...wants you back, even after all that’s happened?” Her sister was well aware of her feelings toward Dougal. There were days when she seemed much wiser than a girl of three and ten.