“Ye are so beautiful,” he muttered. “So beautiful.”
“Even wi’ all me imperfections?” she asked.
“Especially wi’ them,” he told her, moving his hand from her backside to trail up her spine. “It makes nae sense, but yer strange hair and those bizarre eyes o’ yers…they made me so angry an’ now they just make me want ye more.”
There was something truly mind-bending about hearing him tell her he wanted her. It made her lower half throb with desire, and she felt her every muscle tightened with need.
She was scared, she’d admit that. She’d never done this before and had no idea if she was even doing it correctly.
But I want him. I want to feel all o’ him.
And so, looking into his eyes, she slowly lowered herself onto his waiting hardness. He gasped, his hands moving to her hips to guide her. When it entered, it was a sharp tightness, almost like pain, and she cried out.
“Do ye want to stop?” he muttered.
She shook her head. Although it had hurt, she wanted more, and she moved her hips so that she slid up and back down ever so slowly, taking as much of him inside her as she could.
“Cicilia,” he groaned, his nails tightening on her hips, and she shuddered out a harsh gasp as she began to move quicker, tilting her head down to catch her lips with his once more.
He held her in place with one hand, helping her to move on him, and with the other, he returned to her breasts, flicking and rolling and pulling and teasing.
A new kind of heat began to build, and Cicilia found herself rocking faster and harder, needing to feel more of him, needing them to be joined, and every thrust was like a new burst of almost unbearable pleasure.
“Alexander!” she gasped, her hands supporting herself on his chest as sweat pooled between her breasts and she knew nothing but that she had to move harder, faster, deeper, and keep going until—
God!
She cried out again, and he roared a second after her as they both reached their peak within moments. The pleasure was like nothing she had ever felt. It was like someone had lifted her from all the tiredness and worry in her soul and replaced it with pure goodness.
She fell forward, panting, her head on his chest, and a moment later, his arms were around her in an embrace. They didn’t separate yet, but stayed like that, holding each other.
Eventually, she rolled off, wincing slightly as he withdrew from her. They lay side by side for a moment, not talking, letting the air cool the sweat from their skins.
Then Alexander said, “Are ye all right?”
“More than all right,” she said honestly. “Ye?”
He smiled and turned to kiss her cheek.
Without another word, the two of them settled under the covers of the bed, pulling them up to their shoulders. She lay with her head on his chest, his arms protectively around her, and that was how they fell asleep—happy and together and soothed by the sound of each other’s breaths.
Perhaps, then, I’ll be safe here after all. Perhaps I’ll even be happy.
For now, at least, she could forget the note, forget the threat. For now, at least, she could have peace.
Chapter 18
Pax Optima Rerum
Peace is the Greatest Good
The O’Donnels and Jeanie settled well into their new life at the castle. Annys, especially, was thriving, running around the castle, and befriending the servants as though this was the life she had been born into. Alexander, for his part, was glad that the girl was so comfortable—even if her wildness unnerved some of the older castle residents.
They’re good bairns, the pair o’ them. I’m glad I could give them somewhere to go after all the bad they’ve faced.
Jamie was the more studious of the two, and once or twice, Alexander had even let him sit in on less significant meetings of castle business. To his surprise, the boy didn’t get bored very often—which was astounding; Alexander himself found these meetings terribly dry.
When the twins were together, though, chaos reigned. If Alexander was entirely honest, even while fielding complaints from the older castle staff, he welcomed it. Yes, the children were noisy, and yes, they sometimes seemed to forget that they were no longer on a farm. Yes, they quickly tired of showing deference when there was fun to be had instead.
But it’s nice. It brings life to a home that had forgotten it since me parents died. I welcome it.
And then there was Cicilia.
As always, thinking of her released a torrent of complex emotions to whirl freely in his chest. Since she’d received the note a week before, he’d spent nearly every night in her room—in her bed. The second time he’d gone, he had insisted that he wasn’t there to seduce her.
She’d smiled, laughed, and led him back to bed by the hand.
Am I fallin’ for her? I think I might be. This odd farm lassie may be me undoin’, an’ I’m welcomin’ it wi’ open arms.
He knew that their dalliance would probably never amount to more than what it was. His heart may beat faster every time she smiled, but that didn’t change any of the facts of their lives or their positions. When the renovations were complete, Cicilia would return home to her farm and take her siblings with her.
I can hardly give up the Lairdship to be a farmer—nay, nae even a farmer, but a farmer’s husband. An’ she would never give up her farm for the castle.
It hurt, but it was a peaceful hurt because the present was too sweet to dwell on the future so much. So for now, they never talked of the future, of their feelings and of what, exactly, they were doing. During the day, they were friends, and at night, they were lovers, and there was no need to make it more complex than that.
Even if me heart is beggin’ for me to do so.
While the twins played, the adults spent time together—not just Alexander and Cicilia, but Nathair and Jeanie, too. That was pleasant, as well. Thanks to his duties, it had been quite a while since Alexander had the occasion to spend time with Nathair as just his friend. But now the four of them ate together, laughed together, and told stories together.
“I mind when we were bairns,” Nathair told the girls one night over cups of wine. “An’ Sandy, mind, he’s always been the proper sort. His big sister, Catherine, used to take us out together, try an’ get the wee lad out his shell. So I convinced him, aye, to play a jape on Catherine while she was at the market stall gettin' us a couple o’ sweet buns.”
“A jape?” Cicilia asked with a grin. “What kind?”
“Dinnae leave out the most important part,” Alexander interrupted. “About how ye, aged all o’ ten, had already made up yer mind that ye were gonnae wed our Catherine.”
“Och, really!” Jeanie declared, mock-offended. She was on the floor, leaning against Nathair’s legs while he sat on the chair, and he affectionately played with her hair. “Should I be jealous, then?”
Truth be told, their open affection made Alexander a little jealous. Yes, he and Cicilia sat close together on the couch, but he didn’t dare put his arm around her or place any physical claim on her outside of their nightly meetings.
It wouldnae be proper. An’ I wouldnae want to offend her. If she wanted me to treat her like we had somethin’, she’d let me ken. Would she nae?
Nathair snorted. “Nay, Jeanie, for Catherine may be bonny, but she cannae hold a candle to yer charms.”
“That’s me sister ye’re talkin’ about,” Alexander reminded him, amused. “An’ dinnae mistake him for gallant, Jeanie. Catherine’s been wed for decades.”
Playing along, Cicilia gasped. “Oh, goodness. How improper o’ ye to lead me poor friend along while yer heart still pines for another, Nathair!”
Nathair childishly stuck out his tongue, and Jeanie chuckled. She patted his leg and said, “Dinnae ye two worry. Even if I thought I had anythin’ to fear, it’d take a stronger man than some Man-at-arms to even glance at another lass after they’ve tangled wi’ me.”
All four of them laughed, and Alexander
held up his cup. “To Jeanie, an’ fierce women everywhere.”
“Hear, hear!” Cicilia chuckled, holding up her own cup. The other two did the same. When the toast was complete, she said, “Get on wi’ yer story, then. The jape?”
Nathair laughed. “Aye! So Sandy went to the luthier down the road an’ begged an’ wheedled ‘til the lad agreed to sell him a wee bottle o’ hide glue—ye ken, the type they use for fancy lutes an’ the like—an’ he came runnin’ back. Then he took a coin an’ stuck it to the stall below us. I ‘accidentally’ knocked into Catherine when she was handlin’ her change purse, an’ o’ course the coins went everywhere.”
Alexander smiled at the memory. “Aye. It was a hot day, but nae too hot. The glue had done its job marvelously. Me an’ Nathair hurried to help her pick up the coins, but we purposely avoided the stuck one. We watched her tryin’ to pick it up for a solid few minutes before it got too much for us to bear.”
“She was furious,” Nathair grinned. “An’ told us she’d never buy us sweet buns again.”
“Aye, but she still did the followin’ Saturday anyway,” Alexander chuckled.
Both girls laughed loudly at the image of the proper Laird’s daughter scrabbling for a coin she could never lift. Cicilia nudged Alexander with her elbow. “An’ ye have the nerve to talk about me siblings! Ye an’ Nathair were just as bad!”
He grinned. “Aye, maybe. An’ what o’ ye an’ Jeanie? Surely ye must have a story or two in exchange for ours?”
The girls looked at each other, and Cicilia shrugged. “I dinnae ken. Jeanie’s quite a wee bit younger than me, so we were older when we truly became friends. We’ve had plenty o’ fun times, but as for the kind of stories ye’re lookin’ for us to share…”
“Och, tell them about the dance!” Jeanie insisted brightly. “When the Lowland Earl was in Wauton seekin’ a bride!”
Cicilia clapped her hands together, her strange, pretty eyes sparkling in the candlelight. “Aye, I’d near forgotten. Earl Knox, was it nae? He quite fancied the idea o’ bringin’ home a Highland wife to emphasize his proud Scottishness.”
Alexander remembered that. Earl Knox had, of course, been required to get the Laird of Gallagher’s permission before crossing into his land. Alexander had just turned twenty, four years into his Lairdship, and he’d found the whole concept baffling. He’d instructed the Earl to do as he pleased, wishing him luck.
As if a pompous Lowlander could survive in the face o’ the Highland lassies.
“I was seven-and-ten, an’ Jeanie just three-and-ten, but she thought herself quite the woman already,” Cicilia went on, smirking at her friend, who gave an unapologetic shrug in response. “The twins were yet to be born, an’ me faither spent most o’ his time attendin’ to me Mither, so it was easy enough to get their consent to go, even despite what happened the previous…” she trailed off.
Despite what? What happened?
But if she wanted to tell him, she would, he supposed. So Alexander didn’t press, just waiting for her to continue.
“So along we went, dressed as fancy as ye please. Jeanie was thinkin’ about movin’ in wi’ her grandda at this stage, ye ken, an’ she wanted to get to ken the lads in town before she did such a thing. So we snuck into the dance, an’ we danced wi’ most o’ the young lads there,” Cicilia went on.
“Aye, an’ then ye caught one o’ their eyes!” Jeanie giggled.
Cicilia rolled her eyes, but she looked amused. “Aye, that I did. He approached an’ told me that me hair an’ eyes were some o’ the most unusual he had ever seen, an’ asked me to dance. I accepted to be polite, but after the events o’ the previous year, courtship was the furthest thing from me mind.”
“But it wisnae far from this lad’s!” Jeanie went on gleefully. “He was about ten-an’-nine an’ he seemed to find our Cil spellbindin’. Every time the song ended an’ she tried to move away, he claimed her as a partner over an’ over again. Me, I was young an’ caught up in the attention o’ me own young admirers, so I dinnae really notice until it was too late.”
Alexander and Nathair exchanged looks, Alexander slightly concerned.
“Too late for what?” Nathair asked.
“Aye, Cicilia,” Jeanie teased. “Too late for what?”
Cicilia chuckled and shrugged. “Well, it turns out that the lad is Earl Knox himself, an’ he’s gotten himself quite taken wi’ me in the hours we spent dancin’. When the last song ended, he proposed to me, then an’ there.”
Absurdly, Alexander felt a surge of jealousy. “An’ ye said?”
“Nay, of course,” Cicilia finished, giving him a perturbed look. “Unless I’ve been an Earl’s wife this whole time without kennin’ it.”
Jeanie laughed wickedly. “Nay, that is nae what she said. She told him thank ye for the dancin’, but she wisnae interested. An’ the young Earl dinnae take that so well. He started yellin’ an’ stompin’ an’ he demanded to ken if she honestly thought she could do better than him.”
Now Alexander was furious at this memory of a spoiled brat. How dare this so-called Earl talk to Cicilia in that way? On Alexander’s land, no less? He knew it was irrational, but he almost wanted to storm the Lowlands now and teach the fool a lesson.
“An’ what did Cicilia say to that?” Nathair asked.
Jeanie grinned. “She says, an’ I’m quotin’ here, ‘Well, aye, I can do better than ye, Earl Knox, if this is how ye talk to a woman’!”
Nathair barked out a laugh, and Jeanie joined him, and Alexander gave Cicilia an impressed look. For her part, she looked torn between pride and embarrassment.
“Well, I was nae wrong,” she said. “Only a fool would wed a lad who dinnae talk to them like a person.”
“Ye’re a remarkable lass, Cicilia O’Donnel,” Nathair said with a grin.
Alexander watched her, the freckles on her face and dimples on her cheeks, the spark in her eye, and that strange hair.
Remarkable? Aye, Nathair. She truly is.
Later that night, they went their separate ways, Jeanie quite blatantly following Nathair back to his bedroom. For some reason, Alexander felt awkward as he and Cicilia walked along the corridor together, first to check on the twins.
He waited in the hallway while Cicilia went into the children's’ room, and when she emerged a few minutes later, she was smiling softly.
“They climbed into the same bed again,” she told him in a whisper. “I should probably be tellin’ them off, but they look so sweet cuddlin’ into each other at night. An’ given everythin’ that has happened, I ken they probably need it.”
Alexander nodded. “It’s good that they have each other. An’ ye. They’re lucky bairns, despite everythin’.”
Cicilia smiled at him. Then, to his shock, she slipped her hand into his. His whole body stiffened at the sensation, and his lungs forgot how to breathe at this tiny gesture that meant everything and nothing.
She felt his tension. “What?” she asked. “Is this nae all right?”
“Nay, that is nae it,” he said quickly—a little too quickly. He took a breath and started again. “What I mean to say is, o’ course it’s all right. I’m just surprised.”
She shrugged. “Nae more surprised than I am,” she said, a slight tease to her tone. “Who’d have ever thought that I, of all people, would grow to like the Laird o’ Gallagher so much? Me poor Daddy is probably turnin’ in his grave.”
“Nonsense,” Alexander replied as they started walking again. He tried to hide the boyish thrill that went through him at her words. “Yer Faither would be the proudest man in the world to see ye now. Ye’re a marvel.”
“An’ ye’re a flatterer,” Cicilia laughed, but she squeezed his hand affectionately. “Yer faither would be proud, too, ye ken. Ye’re a good lad an’ a better Laird.”
And then, quite abruptly, she stopped. She dropped his hand and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down for a deep, sensuous kiss. When it was over, Alexander’s mind was
reeling, and his body was responding quite appropriately. He wanted nothing more than to drag her back to bed, but first…
“That was quite improper, Miss O’Donnel,” he joked. “What if somebody had seen? Is that really a risk ye’re comfortable takin’?”
She had that grin on her face that he loved so much, full of laughter and life, as she took his hand again and began to hurry down the corridor and back to her chambers. “Well, Me Laird,” she told him. “Fortune favors the bold.”
A Hellion for the Highlander: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 16