My Heart's in the Highlands

by Angeline Fortin

  After the events of the past two days, Ian found he was ready for a confrontation. But if a fight wasn’t going to present itself at his door, Ian was keen on taking what did.

  “And you shouldn’t have come into my bedchamber before we wed. Certainly not if you expected conversation,” he whispered huskily as he ran his hand up the inside of her thigh once more. Her muscles tensed and her breathing was suddenly ragged. Up his hand went until he could feel the heat at her core, and he brushed against her lightly through the barrier of her nightgown. Chuckling as she pressed her thighs together, Ian removed his hand and instead took hers, guiding it to his bare chest. Her fingers curled as if she meant to draw away but then they spread hesitantly over his skin and moved in the slightest caress. It was Ian’s turn to tense as arousal seized and thickened.

  Her gaze moved to his chest then back to his eyes, and Ian swore he could see a flicker of excitement there. “You don’t have on a nightshirt,” she said unnecessarily. Her fingers drifted across his chest, brushing over one flat nipple before they trailed down the ridges of his stomach to the point where the sheet covered him. Her fingers lingered there, following the edge of the linen from side to side, and Ian’s body clenched at the light contact, his arousal stirring beneath the sheet.

  “I don’t own one,” he confessed, and her eyes, which had once again been drifting downward, shot back to his. The logical rebuttal was there in her eyes, and Hero was visibly fighting against voicing it, but Ian couldn’t battle his amusement. He chuckled throatily, thinking this confrontation was far more interesting than the one he had been anticipating that night. “Why don’t you come in here with me and find out what I am … or am not … wearing for yourself?”

  Predictably, she stiffened in face of his amusement. “Do you think I won’t?”

  What Ian thought was that Hero would go with whatever part of her conscience won the war that had been raging in her since the moment he had touched her thigh. The inexperienced part of her would argue for a retreat while the portion of her that had emerged so briefly in the music room and in the dungeons when her passions were roused would want to continue from where they had been interrupted. But instead of voicing any of that, Ian offered only the earnest truth. “My God, Hero, I hope ye will.”

  Her hand trembled against his abdomen, her fingers curling against him before she drew away and stood. Ian inwardly cursed. He should have simply kissed her into submission, knowing that she wanted him as well, knowing that he could easily kindle her passions into a fire she could not deny. He should have, but Ian wanted her to come to him freely. Wanted the decision to be hers without influence.

  His body raged, begging him to pull her back down to him. Ian lifted himself onto one elbow. “Hero …”

  He froze as she unbuttoned one of the quartet of buttons that held her dressing gown closed at her waist. When her hands moved to the next one, Ian held his breath. Leisurely, she worked the third and fourth before parting the gown and lifting it off her shoulders. It fell slowly, dragging at the low gathered neckline of her nightgown as it went until it was pulled along with the robe, baring one shoulder to his hungry eyes as his breath was drawn from him just as gradually.

  Her white nightgown was gossamer thin, falling in folds from the gathered top that could not hide the silhouette of her body beneath. He could see the shadow beneath her breasts and lower between her thighs. It was a gown made for seduction. His hand clenched the sheet tightly to restrain himself from reaching for her. “Ye came in here for more than conversation, my love. Didn’t ye?” he asked thickly.

  “No, that’s what I went to the pagoda last night for,” she said. “I wanted to see if you would keep your promise but you weren’t there.”

  Ian tensed at the thought of Hero walking the grounds alone. He would have to make certain that didn’t happen again until his assailant was caught. “My apologies, my love, I was late. You must have left before I got there. I was so looking forward to meeting you. Are you sorry to have missed it, Hero?”

  “Where were you?” She tugged at the ribbon that held the gown together at the top and it slid apart, falling over the other shoulder as well. She paused and waited expectantly.

  Drinking in the smooth ivory skin of her bared shoulders and the shadowy hint of her breasts, Ian almost couldn’t recall the subject at all. His focus was on her and her alone. “Business. Hero, my love …”

  Hero shifted almost imperceptibly and the gown slipped lower, catching at the peak of her breasts. “What kind of business?”

  Ian’s breath caught along with the gown. “Later. I promise.”

  Her eyes lit and with a soft whoosh, the entire garment slid to the floor, leaving Hero clad in nothing more than shadow and moonlight.

  A low moan escaped him at the sight of her. Hero was pure perfection, more lovely even than Ian had imagined. Her breasts were full above an impossibly tiny waist, yet her hips flared in a wide, rounded curve. One long lock of her hair lay against her breast, curling beneath it like a lover’s hand. Arousal become instantaneous erection, and the heat spread.

  He had to touch her. “Come to me, my love.”

  Hero took his outstretched hand without hesitation and lifted a knee to the edge of the mattress. Any bashfulness and uncertainty she had been feeling fled at the need in his eyes. The heat there transferred to her, stoking her confidence, and she knew the time had come. She had wanted it to. Wanted it for days before Ian confessed his love. She would have gladly had him without it, but knowing that he loved her, knowing that he wanted so much more from her than a just a body to warm his bed, had fueled her own desire to a feverish pitch.

  Ian had been right. Hero had come for more than conversation and explanation. She had come to collect on the promises he had made. To find out where the extraordinary passion he roused in her could take her. The sight of his bare chest and the feeling of his muscles playing underneath his hot, smooth skin had only strengthened her resolve to finish what they had begun.

  Now she slid her palm over his rippled abdomen, marveling at the muscles clenching beneath her hand, and moved her hand up his chest more boldly as she leaned over him. Her hand moved up over his shoulder to caress his cheek as she bent to kiss him gently. His lips parted beneath hers, encouraging her to explore more fully, and Hero did. She traced his lips with her tongue before dipping inward to meet his. Ian’s hands ran up her sides, and Hero couldn’t help but shiver at the contact against her bare skin. She jumped with a start when his thumbs slid up under her breasts before he cupped them in his palms. Squeezing gently, he rubbed the pad of his thumbs across her sensitive nipples, and it was Hero’s turn to moan helplessly.

  “Ian, I …” she gasped against his lips.

  “Please, don’t tell me ye don’t know what to do, Hero,” he growled hoarsely. “If you knew any better, I’d be a dead man.”

  Hero released a breathless giggle and lowered herself against him until her breasts were pressed against his chest. Propping herself on an elbow on his pillow, she brushed her long hair aside only to have his hands join hers in the effort before those roughened palms slid down her back and over her bottom. His hand grasped her thigh, urging it across his hips until she was astride him, before he slid both hands up to cup her bottom. Ian held her firmly, arching against her, and Hero inhaled sharply at the feel of his hard length pressing against her through the thin barrier of the sheet.

  “Can ye feel what ye do to me with just a touch, lass?” he asked in an almost unintelligible brogue. “Good Lord save me if I were to want ye any more than I already do.”

  Still Hero wavered indecisively, wondering what to do next, since she wasn’t in a position that she had ever shared with Robert. Years of occasional interludes consisting of quick, no-nonsense intercourse hadn’t provided much insight on how to please a man, and Hero did so want to please Ian. As if he could see into her mind, Ian smoothed a tendril of hair back from her forehead and whispered, “Do as ye like, my love. Whatev
er it is will please me, I promise ye.”

  Releasing a shaky breath, Hero pushed herself up and looked down at his broad chest once more. The sight of it bared to her when she had come to his bedside had drawn her eyes again and again. Those hard planes called to her, and her hands itched to caress the raw masculine beauty before her. “I—I want to touch you.”

  “Then do,” he invited, releasing her and relaxing back against the pillows.

  Spreading her hands across his abdomen, Hero fanned her fingers outward until they just reached the curve of his sides. Slowly, she slid them upward, feeling muscle flex and tense, her eyes following intently. His skin was hot and smooth beneath her fingers. Her palms slid over his rib cage, up and over his shoulders, as they had moments before. Downward then, retracing the path down to his navel and lower, where hair roughened his skin.

  His erection leapt beneath her and Hero wiggled against the hard length, drawing a low moan from Ian. She looked up curiously. Ian’s eyes were closed, his face tight. She undulated against him once more, felt his body clench beneath her. Her heart, which had already been pounding heavily, raced with exhilaration.

  With a groan, Ian clasped his hands about her waist and lifted her, toeing the sheets down before setting her upon him once more. Hero barely had a moment to gasp as his naked heat was pressed against her core before Ian sat up, wrapping one arm around her and pulling her against him. His other hand dove into her hair, fisting and pulling her forward to meet his kiss.

  His mouth was open and hot as it met hers. He angled his head to the side, exploring her more fervently. His tongue stroked hers, and Hero moaned against his lips, sliding her arms up and over his shoulders to clutch him tightly to her. Ian’s whisker-roughened chin lightly abraded hers, and his calloused hands chafed against her back and neck, the differences between them only heightening the intensity of the contact. Her body burned where it touched his, and Hero’s head swam dizzily, delightfully, as passion overwhelmed her. “Oh, oh,” she exhaled the word over and over. “Oh, yes.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  With an animalistic growl, Ian lifted her and turned her on her back against the mattress, his weight descending over her. A thrill of exultation tore through Hero as she felt his hands on her breasts, kneading. Not gently, not tenderly, as before, but fervidly, his zeal inciting Hero’s passion to a near frenzy. His mouth left hers, trailing hotly down her neck and shoulder until his lips closed over one nipple. Hero cried out, unconsciously grasping his head to her breast as he suckled deeply then licked the sting away before turning his attention to her other breast.

  Hero threw her head back and cried out once more as thrilling electricity streaked through her body and down her limbs. Already racing, her heart beat frantically against her ribs and her breathing became rushed and labored. She felt intoxicated, drunk on him.

  Scorching lips dragged over her breast, his teeth scraping roughly against the tender underside and down her soft belly. His tongue laved her navel before he shifted, moving lower. Ian lifted her leg, lightly biting her inner thigh and rasping the delicate skin against his stubbled cheek. Hero felt his fingers trace along her inner folds, opening her, but before she could react, his hot mouth engulfed her and Hero arched off the bed with a euphoric scream. His tongue swirled against her fervently and tension built low in her belly, tendrils of fire licking down her thighs. Her head thrashed from side to side on the pillow, and her breathing became desperate pants as the unknown approached.

  “Ian,” she gasped in an impassioned plea, and Ian rose over her, lifting her legs around his hips as he drove deeply into her. Her cry of rapture harmonized with his groan of satisfaction, and for a moment he paused, unmoving, looking down at her.

  Hero lifted her hands to his heaving chest and froze as well, caught by the look in his eyes. A myriad of emotions shone in those dark depths. Not just passion or even love. There was tenderness, astonishment. She could feel him throbbing within her, but Ian didn’t move as she expected. Instead, he leaned over her, resting his weight on his forearm, his chest brushing hers, his hand sliding up her thigh to cradle her bottom in his palm. His fingers toyed with the hair at her temple and his throat worked as Ian swallowed deeply. As it tended to when he was in high emotion, Ian’s brogue was heavy and hoarse when he spoke. “Never, my love. I swear to ye, never before.”

  Hero didn’t have to ask what he meant. She knew what he was saying. “I know,” she whispered. “I love you.”

  “I love ye,” he murmured, then released a husky chuckle. “By God but I’ve never seen anything so bonny in my life as the sight of ye lying here beneath me. But I do know one thing that will be even more lovely.”

  Blinking, Hero asked, “You do?” But Ian didn’t answer; instead, he flexed his hips and pushed deeper into her depths. Withdrawing slowly, he slid into her again, and Hero gasped, her body clenching around him. Again and again, he retreated and plunged, his pace quickening. Still he watched her.

  Hero wrapped her arms around him, one hand sliding lower over his buttock, grasping, urging. Their hearts beat in time, their chests heaving and straining together, until Hero was once again wound tightly, ecstasy singing in her veins. Her eyes fluttered closed, and her breath came in desperate pants. A low keening sounded from deep within her as Ian pushed her higher and higher. As if by their own will, her legs wound tightly around his hips.

  Mewling transmuted into a long moan of entreaty. “Please,” she groaned, begging for she knew not what. “Please.”

  “Aye, my love,” Ian whispered softly and hastened his pace, pounding into her furiously, and Hero bucked beneath him, her body tensing.

  “Yes. Yes!” she cried, throwing back her head. Hero’s body burst rapturously, contracting around him. A hoarse shout escaped Ian, and with one last torrid thrust he joined her in a climax so intense it wrung him dry.

  Ian collapsed on top of her, burying his face in the crook of her shoulder. With his arms binding her tightly to him, Hero slowly descended from the magnificent heights to which Ian had taken her. Her body pulsated around his length, delivering waves of pleasure that ebbed and eventually faded away. Releasing one last sated breath, Hero relaxed beneath Ian, savoring his weight upon her. She curled her fingers into his hair, hugging him to her.

  It had been beautiful, more passionate and fulfilling than Hero had ever dreamed possible, and her heart ached with emotion. She stroked his hair, savoring the tender rush of pure joy.

  Ian lifted his head and looked down at her, brushing the hair back from her temple. “Lovelier than a glimpse at heaven.”

  His lips brushed across hers, a thrilling combination of tenderness and aching passion that quickened Hero’s pulse once more. Hero watched his face from beneath her lashes. Awe was written there, and she was sure that if he opened his eyes, Ian would see that very same expression on her face. Never had she felt anything like this. Not just passion, but heart-rending need mixed with something she had never felt before, and it made her chest tighten, her throat close, and her eyes burn with tears. She felt like sobbing, yet at the same time she wanted to sing with joy.

  Hero ran her hands up Ian’s back and over his shoulders, feeling the muscles playing beneath his smooth skin while his lips played against hers, searching and exploring. She wanted to beg him to never stop, to let her remain forever in the circle of his arms.

  Pulling back, she stared up at him, her eyes begging him with the words she couldn’t say. Ian brushed the hair back from her temple, curling a lock of hair around his finger. His dark gaze, warm as caramel, melted into hers. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice carrying a wealth of emotion. Hero’s heart ached at his words as Ian bent his head to kiss her again. “God, how I love you.”

  A single tear slipped down her cheek as her heart burst with joy. “And I love you. I never imagined this, Ian. I never knew how this could relay feelings beyond words, as if my soul has been torn open. I have never experienced anything so profound.”


  “Nor have I, my love,” Ian said. “I told you, did I not, that what is between us belongs to the ages.” Lifting himself off of her, Ian turned to his side, dragging her with him until she was nestled against his side. “And we will have this for a lifetime. And when this lifetime has ended, we will have each other in the next because my soul is yours for eternity.”

  Hero wrapped an arm around his waist and hugged him. “I like the sound of that. Forever. You are mine and I am yours.”

  Ian brushed a kiss against her hair. “Sleep, my love. Tomorrow, we will begin our life together.”

  “Tomorrow?” she asked, sleepily tracing circles on his chest with her fingertip.

  “Aye,” he said with a lazy grin. “My surprise for you. I went into Ayr for the bishop and a special license. Even now he sleeps above, ready to marry us in the morning.”

  Hero’s heart leapt with pleasure at his words. So that was where he had been! A thrill went through her that Ian didn’t want to wait even another day to make her his wife. No long engagement. No society wedding. And she didn’t mind at all. This time she wouldn’t wed for politics or convenience. She would marry for love alone. “Where? When?”

  “I thought we might have our rendezvous at the pagoda after all,” he said. “This afternoon?”

  Hero nodded, her eyes shining with joy. “Oh, but what will I wear?”

  Ian chuckled, squeezing her gently. “You’ll find something. You are perfection in anything you wear.”

  Smiling at that, Hero snuggled against his side and closed her eyes. Her last thought as she drifted away was that there was nothing more perfect than that moment.