Injury forgotten, he heaved her across his chest and responded to the heat of the kiss stroke for sinful stroke. They broke apart, breathing hard. He ran his hands over her fine form, using his tongue to tease an earlobe, the length of her neck, the hollow of her throat. She arched beneath him, feminine whimpers music to his ears.
Their lips. Their bodies. Their kiss.
Made him want so much more.
He kissed her again. With vigor. He rocked against her core, his arousal cradled within the juncture of her thighs. So long. It had been so very long since he fondled a woman’s breast and felt the nipple pebble and harden against his palm.
Saints help him. He’d never desired a woman with such intensity.
Slow down, his mind screamed, and he attempted to regain some semblance of control. Had he forgotten what he need do? Search her for hidden blades. Not make love to the lass.
Calming his breathing, he slid his hands down her sides, over fine curves, ignoring desire, searching every place where a knife might be hidden upon a female body. She undulated beneath him, and he almost abandoned the hunt. When he slipped off her boots, she giggled as if his touch tickled.
Guilt sliced through him, and he rolled to the side, still breathing heavy from their foreplay. She had told the truth. Ashley carried no weapons.
“Are you satisfied, you damn barbarian? You’ve touched every part of my body. Where else do you think I might hide a weapon?” She shoved at his chest, hitting the bandaged wound.
He hissed from the unexpected pain and sat bolt upright.
Ashley lunged to her knees. The glow from the fire shimmered on a tear that skimmed her cheek. Although his impulse was to wipe away the teardrop, to comfort her, he stayed his hand.
Cold, hungry, and lonelier than she’d be if alone, Ashley held Cael’s stare. He thought she meant to hurt him. How could he so misunderstand her intentions?
She’d felt the proof of his desire hard against her thigh. He might not trust her, but wanted her in a sexual way. Perhaps that might be a start. Yet why should she make his task easier? He was supposed to gain her love—not push her away. She’d been tasked with saving his soul, but had no clue how to go about initiating his redemption. They were two nights into Twelvetide and losing ground and time. Until he got with the program, she’d best do the seducing.
“What are our plans for tomorrow?” Ashley leaned back on her heels.
“Ach, well...” He ran a hand over his thick hair, inhaled sharply, and let out a long breath. “I have not given much thought to our destination as yet. We cannot stay here with so few supplies. We cannot go to my kin for there is a strong chance they were involved in the shooting and wish me ill. There is no help for it, we will need ride to the western Highlands and seek protection with my friends, the MacLachlans.”
“Is it far?”
“At least a two day ride.”
“Then we best get some sleep so we can make an early start.” She lay down and tugged the fur blanket to her chest.
She inhaled the earthy scent of pine. Probably without realizing, Cael had created a romantic love nest for them within an evergreen room. A perfect place to seduce a reluctant man.
Cael wrinkled his brow and stared at her. Then he reclined beside her and slipped under the blanket, too, remaining silent. He made this easy. She shimmied closer and bit back a smile at his loud intake of breath as their thighs touched.
“We should share body heat on this cold night,” she suggested. “Don’t you think?”
“Oh, aye.” His voice sounded rough. Strangled.
Ashley rolled to the side, slid a bent leg between his, leaned over his chest and whisper-kissed his firm lips. He tasted good, of honey and the oatcakes they’d shared. He kissed her with aching gentleness. She rolled completely atop him, careful of his injury. They hugged and caressed each other, exploring, until both panted with need.
A gentle hand slid beneath her top and tweaked a sensitized nipple. She gasped. An ache within her core blossomed and pulsed. Moisture pooled between her thighs.
She kissed Cael’s earlobe and whispered, “I want you inside me. Now. Please.”
His husky growl made her laugh, and they stripped each other of their pants.
He eased into her with such gentleness, the backs of her eyes misted. Then Ashley stiffened at the pinch of pain when his powerful thrust burst through her maidenhead.
“Forgive me.” He stilled, started to withdraw. “You were a virgin. I am sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m not.” The stinging ache within Ashley receded, replaced by burning desire. She wanted more of Cael’s loving thrusts. She clutched his arm. “It might be my first time, but I knew what to expect. Please finish. Don’t leave me yearning for more.”
And so he made love to her, possessed her, sending her on a shooting star journey around the planets, screaming his name.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Cael heaved the saddlebag over the horse’s back and winced at the pull on his stitches. Last night, as he planted his seed deep within Ashley, something within him shifted. Changed. He no longer drifted, aimless, lost within the world in which he lived. He’d come home. Ashley was home. That must have been the familiarity he’d seen within her eyes when he awoke from his injury-induced sleep to her concerned gaze.
They should wed.
They couldn’t. He had naught to offer but danger, with someone wishing him dead and having the resources to see the deed done.
Ashely handed him the bedroll they’d made love upon, but glanced away. What must she think of him? He grasped her hand. She still wouldn’t look his way. “What happened between us…”
Her head swung around, and he found himself lost in two pools of molten amber. “Was very special,” she finished for him.
His breath came easier. He hadn’t realized how important her acceptance of what they shared meant to him. “Aye. That it was.” He didn’t want her to think he tupped every lass that crossed his path. “Ashley—”
“Shhh!” She squeezed his fingers. “Don’t ruin it.”
How was he to explain what was in his heart when he didn’t understand the new feelings himself? “Ach, well, we should be on our way then. There is a great distance to travel before this day is done.”
She held his gaze for several heartbeats then nodded.
He lifted her onto the horse and swung up behind, only noticing a slight twinge from the injury. Thank the good Lord the wound wasn’t more serious. A ghost? Ashley would have him believe he’d died from the gunshot wound and become a ghost. How could he believe anything the lass said? How could he give her his trust?
Those thoughts didn’t sit well. His instincts had saved him on many occasions since that fateful night of his youth. Although her story seemed the wanderings of a damaged mind, his instincts suggested he have faith in her. Trust her. A length of soft brown hair blew over his face, and he inhaled the scent of pine boughs. He ran a hand over his head. He truly wanted to believe the sweet-smelling woman leaning against his chest belonged to him. That their destinies were entwined. But how could he? A ghost? No. He was a living, breathing man.
They rode for the better part of the day, skirting castles and villages alike. Cael didn’t ken who to trust amongst his kin. The weather had turned warmer and the insignificant amount of snow from the previous storm melted, leaving the ground muddy in places. Their passing left more marks than he wished. They would be easily tracked. He’d be glad to leave Clan Innes lands behind.
Would be better his kin believed him dead.
As afternoon shadows lengthened, they approached a desolate croft with caution. The need to fill their water bags overrode his need to remain anonymous. Ashley stirred upon his chest where she’d fallen asleep a mere hour before.
“Where are we?” Her voice, husky from slumber, stirred his loins, and he shifted his weight in the saddle. She leaned forward, using a hand to shield her eyes against the sinking western sun. “Do you know the people who
live here?”
“Nae. We must hope they dinnae ken me and will offer hospitality. Perhaps we can find shelter tonight within that rickety barn.”
Cael wrapped an arm around Ashley, feeling possessiveness deep within his soul. A flock of chickens cackled then scattered as they rode into the yard.
Cael dropped from the horse and assisted Ashley to her feet. She wobbled slightly, but quickly gained her balance. The croft door cracked and a wee face peered out, then the panel slammed shut. Several tense moments passed while Cael took in the surroundings with a mind to defense. When the door opened again, a man appeared, wariness marking aging features.
“What do you want? We are poor without anything more to steal.”
“We dinnae wish to rob you. All we seek is water from your well and a roof over our heads this night. We would be happy to bed down with the livestock in that fine barn.”
The man chortled. “You will not find any livestock, but are welcome to lay your head on the hay in that fine barn.”
“Nae livestock you say?”
“Ach, robbers rode through here two nights past, leaving naught for our Yule feasting.”
“Sorry I am to hear of your misfortune. Perhaps some coin for our stay this eve’n will bring you and your family Yule cheer.”
The croft’s door burst wide and a plump woman stood on the threshold, hands on hips. “Take their coin, Hamish. Dinnae be leavin’ these fine folk out there in the muck. Bring them in. A hearty stew simmers on the fire.”
Where do you hail from, lad?” the man asked, still wary.
“Where are my manners?” Cael extended a hand. “Caelan MacLachlan of Castle Lachlan. This is my good-wife.”
The man shook the offered hand and nodded. Ashley raised a brow, but wisely kept her surprise private. The woman eyed Ashley’s attire with skepticism, but managed a warm smile and curtsy. “Welcome to our home, Mistress MacLachlan.”
Ashley inclined her head as any fine lady would. Cael puffed with pride as if she truly was his lady. He rubbed his chest. Mayhap his instincts were correct, and they should wed. Or perhaps they should handfast. He would have a year and a day to decide if they belonged together, provided nae bairn was conceived.
“I owe fealty to The Campbell, as does your chief, I believe?” The man wanted more assurance.
“Aye. That he does. Our alliance with the Campbells is long standing.”
Finally placated, the man accepted the coin and bade them enter the humble abode. Cael waved Ashley to precede him.
Ashley stepped through the door of the croft with uncertainty. It was one thing to travel within the open air of the past. Yet another to be confined within a closed space. Expecting the air to smell foul, the tantalizing aroma wafting from the fire pit came as a welcome surprise. The woman hadn’t bragged. A large black cauldron of fragrant stew simmered upon a hook at the center of the sparsely furnished yet clean room.
The humid warmth of the room chased away the bone deep chill Ashley had experienced for the better part of the day. Aches from riding faded to no more than a niggling annoyance. Though she wouldn’t trade the discomfort for anything since it meant she’d spent the day within Cael’s embrace.
She smiled when the woman of the house bade her sit at the rough-hewn oak table. Ashley walked across the hard dirt floor covered with hay and dried herbs and sank to one of the long benches flanking the table. Cael sat beside her, clasping her hand in his lap.
“You spoke of robbers, Hamish. Do you ken of whence they came?”
Hamish dropped, knees creaking, to the armed chair at the head of the table. “My suspicion is they were some of that rabble from the Black Hills who kilt their chief several years past.”
Cael stiffened against her. Something was wrong. They should leave. Run. Escape. Get away. Fast. Now.
The muscles in her thighs quivered as she made to rise, but the pressure of his hand on her leg kept her in place. The crazy unwarranted panic lessened. Their gazes met, locked, and the confidence reflected within his green eyes reassured.
Still nervous, a swishing sound made Ashley flinch. She scanned the room for the source of the noise. A tiny face with a head of close-clipped red curls peered from behind a thread-bare curtain.
“Come out of there, you wee imp, and greet our fine guests,” the woman coaxed.
The little boy shuffled into the room and sat across from Ashley, but kept his gaze lowered.
“My grandson is a wee shy around strangers, you ken?” the woman said.
“Of course. I was shy as a child too.”
“His ma, bless her soul, passed two summers ago and his da—”
“Was kilt in a skirmish with reivers,” Hamish finished for his wife.
“Sorry I am to hear that,” Cael said.
“Let us not dwell on the past. I have this fine stew to chase away the chill.” The woman set small wooden bowls and spoons on the table and ladled a good amount of stew into each of the bowls then sat beside the boy.
Ashley slid her spoon through the thick liquid, detecting vegetables. And a blending of herbs. Little else. She smiled at the thoughtfulness of this couple to share their meager meal. Of course, Cael had handed over a number of coins, the amount of which, she’d no clue. Taking a sip, she smiled at the earthy taste, a pleasant change from the oatcakes that seemed to be Cael’s travel fare. “It’s very good.”
“I thank you, mistress.” The woman glanced at her husband, communicating something at which Ashley could only guess.
Hamish pushed away his empty bowl. “The robbers…before they plundered our stores, they searched the house and barn for an injured man they hunted. They demanded we hand him over. Fools. They could see no such man hid here. Did you see any such poor soul during your travels?”
Ashley froze. The thieves must be the men who wished to kill Cael. His kin?
“Nae.” Cael rubbed his chin as if considering the question more thoroughly. “We are just returning from visiting my wife’s kin out Inverness way. We have not crossed the path of a wounded man.”
“Well, keep a keen eye. Those who search for him are a lowly sort.”
“We will keep that in mind, kind sir.”
Hamish served them ale afterward and then they were handed a couple of thin tartan blankets and sent to the barn.
“Are we safe here?” she asked when she and Cael were alone.
“I believe so. At least for the night. Our pursuers have already searched here and plundered what they could. They are unlikely to return.”
“Then they are ahead of us.”
“Seems so. Let us not dwell upon it this night.”
“If they know where we are going, won’t they set a trap?”
“Let us worry about that on the morrow. Aye?” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her against his solid form. “We will rise before the sun and be on our way under the cover of darkness.”
Ashley took comfort from his reassuring embrace, and together they slipped beneath the layers of blankets and furs covering the bedroll. They cuddled. Needing a distraction, she leaned in close and pressed her lips against his.
He pulled slightly away. “Are you sure?”
She nodded into his shoulder.
“I thought…I feared perhaps last night was because of the whisky.”
She kissed him on the lips, a mere whisper touch. Cael’s immediate and ardent response set her pulse to a rapid cadence, and she was lost in a lengthy kiss. Passion so intense it brought tears to her eyes. Perhaps Cael was succeeding in gaining her love. A love so deep it could save his soul? Was that the answer?
CHAPTER NINE
Moonlight from a waning moon barely shimmered through a splotchy cover of clouds when Ashley and Cael walked out of the barn and into the croft’s yard shortly before dawn. She smiled. “It’s snowing.”
Cael squeezed her hand then turned to tighten a strap on the saddle.
For the first time since her parents died, she felt as if she
belonged. He was the man who’d cared for her in a lifelong parade of dreams starting after she met him at age seven. And now they were together. Two adults, near the same age, headed for something special. She knew it in her heart.
She handed him the filled water skins; reached for the bedroll. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, sending a shiver down her spin. She scanned the yard, trying to see into the inky shadows. “I feel like someone is watching us.”
Cael rubbed the back of his neck. “Aye, lass, I have the same feeling.”
“What should we do?” she whispered.
“Act as if naught is wrong.” He assisted her onto the horse and swung up behind.
They traveled for the better part of the day, only stopping once to share a bite of cheese, an oatcake, and a taste of ale. The tension and unease grew stronger as they rode.
“Do you think we’re being followed?” she asked.
“’Tis likely.”
“What should we do?” Dumb question. She’d asked the same thing this morning.
“Whatever it takes.” His nebulous answer didn’t ease the jitters.
After a time, they crossed a great snowy meadow. Before reaching the protection of the forest, they caught the first glimpse of their pursuers. Five mounted men, approaching fast.
“Shite.” Cael spurred the horse to greater speed.
They entered the forest trail and galloped out of sight. She kept glancing back, around Cael’s bulk. As they rounded a bend, he leaned forward, his mouth close to her ear.
“They want me. Not you. When I drop you to the ground, run for that distant copse of firs and hide. I will lead them away.” Cael’s brusque words sliced her heart. He would forfeit himself for her.
“No. We should stay together.”
“Listen to me, Ashley. Hide in the trees. Wait for some time to pass. If I have not returned, follow this trail west. The same direction we are riding. Stay out of sight at the edge of the trail. When you reach Castle Lachlan, beg hospitality in my name—Caelan Innes. Once within the castle walls, ask to speak to the steward and request of him an audience with Lachlan Og, the clan chief. Tell Lachlan Og you are my wife. Tell him we were ambushed, and I led the miscreants north. I have been of service to him. He will see to your care.”
Twelvetide: Twelve Nights of Highland Magic Page 5