Never Kiss a Highlander

by Michele Sinclair

  Mairead shook her head. “It was just laundered.”

  He nodded, dipped it in the water so that it was saturated, and then looked around. There was a mug on a table. He sniffed it and was glad it held water, not ale. He dumped the contents and shook some of the herbs into the mug before adding fresh water. He swirled it with his finger. “Where’s some clean cloth I can wrap your arm in?”

  Mairead pointed to an open chest. In it were several strips of linen cloth. He grabbed one, the wet cloth, and the mug, then moved to sit beside her. He dabbed the wound and examined it further. It was not as deep as he feared, but if Laurel were there, she’d probably insist on stitches. He didn’t think they were necessary. The poultice definitely was though and it would help reduce the chance for fever. He quickly smeared the paste on and then used the strip of linen to redress the wound.

  Mairead moved her arm. It felt a lot better. She had bandaged it earlier by herself and had made it too tight. “Thank you.”

  Hamish tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I’m so sorry that I hurt you, aingeal.”

  Mairead looked at him. Her eyes were large and he could see no anger, no resentment. “I’m not. What you did . . . what you showed me, it means a lot, Hamish.”

  Hamish swallowed. It was time to stop denying the truth. When she had not answered him during the standoff he knew without a doubt whom Mairead was afraid of. “What did Ulrick do to you, Mairead? Did he hurt you?”

  Mairead stiffened. “Ulrick didn’t do anything.”

  He did not believe her. “Then tell me who.”

  “I cannot.” She tried to scoot away from him, but Hamish would not let her. “And it probably will not matter in a few weeks. Your plan will work and all will be fine.”

  “And if all is not fine?”

  Mairead looked down at the blanket she was twisting in her right hand. “Then I can now protect myself.”

  Hamish wanted to say, There will be no need. I will protect you. But he couldn’t. It wouldn’t be true for he was leaving and he would not be coming back.

  Suddenly Mairead turned her head and looked at him straight in the eye. “Kiss me, Hamish. One last time. Kiss me so that I never forget what it feels like to be in your arms. Please. Just one more time.”

  She was ripping away all his carefully constructed defenses. He wanted Mairead. He wanted her more than he had ever desired anything or anyone. But to touch her and know her the way he did in his dreams would trap them both. One kiss. That is what they said last time and it had been almost much, much more. And yet he could not bring himself to leave her side. All he could think was that if Mairead never wanted to forget him, then he would make sure she never did.

  Mairead’s lips parted in anticipation. When he caught her face between his hands, her breath stilled as she waited to feel the warmth of his lips against her own. And when they did, they sparked an ache deep inside her that she knew would never be extinguished.

  Hamish was not soft and gentle. His mouth was voracious, his tongue plunged inside, tasting, teasing, drinking in the essence of her. This kiss was not intended to melt her insides when fondly remembered. It was blatantly erotic, demanding everything she had and Mairead surrendered to his claiming. Her entire being vibrated with desire. Her mind was awash with need and could only form one word—“more.”

  Her hands stole around his neck in an effort to get closer. Hamish complied, deepening the kiss as his own hands moved from her cheeks to the side of her neck where his thumbs caressed her wild pulse. Her soft moans were both a salve and a torment to his soul. They were doing nothing more than kissing, and yet her innocent but eager response to his every touch was torment. He never wanted to stop. He needed more. Craved more. He wanted to know what it was to have a woman completely fall apart in his arms. To revel in his touch and think of nothing else.

  Slowly he moved his hand down her nape, brushing her soft skin, until at last he found her breast. He cupped it tentatively, almost reverently, detecting the hard bud through the thin material of her chemise. His thumb stroked it as his tongue mated with hers. The double sensation wrenched a moan from both of them.

  When Hamish covered her breast with his hand, Mairead’s whole body quivered in response. Then he began to tease and flick each nub in turn, causing the ache between her legs to intensify. Her skin ached for his touch and she instinctively arched into his palm, demanding more.

  Hamish continued his double assault until he could feel Mairead growing mindless with wanting more. She was not alone. Deep down, he had known that a kiss would not be enough. It would never be enough. He dreamed about her every night. Kissing her, touching her, tasting her. She was better than his most vivid fantasies. And he did not need to pretend. Mairead was here, with him and could be with him forever if he would just accept what she was offering—herself. And he wanted to. God how he wanted to.

  His kneading fingers were sending currents of longing throughout her body. Her nipples were growing painfully hard under his palm and the pressure was no longer enough. Mairead did not know what to do with the onslaught of sensations consuming her. She felt everywhere, places she did not know she could feel. It almost seemed too much, and yet the idea of ending this was unfathomable and she moaned as much between kisses.

  “Not yet, m’ aingeal,” he whispered against her cheek and pulled her onto his lap, so that she sat across his legs.

  Mairead closed her eyes as she felt his lips caress her ear, then slowly move to the responsive spot just below. She forgot everything except that he was kissing her, giving herself up to the sensations he was creating. Knowing he did not want to stop with just a kiss, she arched her back, requesting more. Hamish complied.

  He buried his face in the waves of her freshly cleaned hair and inhaled. All mine. There was no scent like hers. Nothing as intoxicating. Then slowly, his lips trailed down the veins of her neck as his hands edged aside her chemise, exposing the curve of her shoulders. He kissed her there, lightly, and then slipped his tongue under the neckline to trace the upper part of her breast. She was perfect and having her in his arms, knowing that he was never going to let her go, was almost overwhelming.

  Mairead held her breath when Hamish paused. She was afraid he was hesitating, uncertain on whether he should continue. Somewhere inside a piece of her said that what was happening between them could be perilous—not to her body, not even to her future—but to her heart. But it also said that this could be just the beginning. That if she fought hard, Hamish could be hers, for she was already his and had been for a while. Hamish had her heart, completely and forever.

  “Please don’t stop,” Mairead whispered, trembling in anticipation.

  Hamish then began to move once more. He slid his mouth a little lower and just before he enveloped the beckoning nub, said, “I don’t plan to.”

  He dipped his head and took one hard nipple in his mouth. She gasped as he ran his tongue across the tip. The sensation was almost overwhelming. Never had Mairead felt so much pleasure. She arched against him and thrust her fingers into his hair pulling him closer.

  Hamish groaned with barely leashed need as she began to writhe in his lap, grinding her hips against him. He swirled his tongue over the taut peak and then suckled harder. Feeling her, tasting her, it was torture on his control. Replacing his lips with his thumb on the swollen nub, he moved to the other breast, kissing a soft line to that nipple, before flicking it with his hot tongue and then pulling it fully into his mouth.

  The desire coiled so tightly in Mairead’s body since Hamish first kissed her was now spinning out of control. Her body was screaming for more. Shivers of anticipation raced over her skin.

  Hamish hungrily nipped at the soft flesh of her bosom as he returned to her other breast, replacing the caresses of his thumb with masterful strokes of his tongue. “You’re so beautiful . . . so very beautiful . . .” he murmured over and over. “No woman can ever compare to you.”

  Mairead made another soft moan that drove
him to the brink of insanity. The passion building within her was continuously growing, and Hamish reveled in it—the arch of her back, the innocent but demanding pressure of her hips as they kneaded his groin. He wanted to lavish kisses over every inch of her skin. Know her intimately as none other ever had. To brand her to him for all time.

  Momentarily he raised his head and he stared into her passion-filled eyes. She was so beautiful and she was all his.

  He lowered his hand down to her leg to palm her calf.

  “Please . . .” she begged, her voice a sighing whisper, her hands entangling in his thick curls, pulling him back down to her heart.

  A satisfied grin spread across his face as he lowered his hand down to the calf of her leg, under the hem of her gown. Mairead was unaware of what she wanted so badly, but he knew and before she could sense what he was doing, his fingers caressed up the side of her thigh until they met the heart of her own fire. Tonight he would give her a hint of what they would share once they were married.

  Mairead suddenly became aware of his hand and just where it was. His fingers lightly brushed the soft hair of her mound and she began to shake. “Oh, God,” she moaned. Blood pounded in her veins and her entire body arched against him as it trembled with never-before-known desire.

  Then she felt his mouth against hers and once again she was drowning in his kiss. It was long and hot, flooding her with sensations so that she could not pull away. He pulled her tighter against his torso, and Mairead could feel the throbbing mass of his erection, but instead of scaring her, it filled her with feminine power. Hamish wanted her—her—little Mairead, Selah’s sister, the woman forever attached to a place he wanted to forget—he still wanted her.

  Lacing her fingers through his auburn locks, she met his driving tongue, thrust for thrust, taking and giving back in turn.

  Hamish felt the shift in their kiss. It deepened. It was as if she knew that every kiss before was a mere prelude to what was about to follow. When he broke away to look at her, all her shyness was gone. Her hazel eyes had turned an incredible shade of gold and were filled with longing for him. Mairead was who he had been seeking all these years. Someone who looked at him with trust and desire that was only for him. Someone who looked at him with love.

  Hamish temporarily moved his hand to cup her cheek. “Stay with me, Mairead. I am about to take you to the heavens.”

  Before she could answer, his mouth crushed on hers once more. Mairead felt completely claimed as he kissed her with so much desire and passion, it completely consumed her.

  Once again his fingers found her thigh and moved upward, skimming over her warmth as his tongue teased hers. He felt her shiver in his arms, but she did not pull away. Instead, she pressed into his palm, her body demanding relief.

  Hamish was controlling every wild pulse, every sensation. He would not rush this. Mairead deserved much more than what he could give her. But she had chosen him over everything—her home, her sister.

  Mairead’s blood raced in the shock of his touch, her soul ready to permit him every advantage. But when his palm once more pushed against her sensitive core, the pressure was no longer enough. Unable to stop herself, she rocked her hips against his hand until slowly he parted her with one finger, sliding into her. She went completely still.

  “My God, Mairead,” he said with an almost painful groan as her tight sheath clenched around his finger.

  Mairead couldn’t believe the pleasure streaking through her. No one had ever touched her like that, but Hamish had only begun.

  His mouth claimed hers just as his finger began to move within her liquid warmth. Ever so slightly, he stroked her outer flesh with a careful thumb, loving how she melted into his broad shoulders.

  Mairead was overwhelmed and yet full of a growing but unfulfilled need. When she felt a second finger enter her, she stopped trying to rationalize what was happening and just surrendered to the almost painful pleasure.

  Rocking her against him, Hamish kissed her mouth, neck, and then ear as he began to move his fingers. Her body was quivering and his own throbbed excruciatingly, but there was nothing he wanted more than this. A blissful, soul-searing reward that she was giving him. Her surrender in this one and only siege.

  Mairead was undulating her hips to his torturous fingers and their maddening movements along her sex. Something was building within her, making her breaths short and fast and her heart pound against the wall of her chest. She wanted to scream out her feelings for him. To let him know that memories were no longer enough. That she needed him and wanted a future with him. To tell him the truth—everything—and have faith that he would find a way to keep everyone safe. But no words would come out.

  Hamish continued his onslaught as she clung to him. He heard her utter his name, but he remained merciless as she writhed in his arms. Then reality disappeared as her body tightened. Hamish swallowed her cry as she shattered into a million glowing stars.

  Breathing heavily, Mairead leaned back, seeking the heat and strength of his body. Hamish’s thick arousal pressed into her buttocks as shudders continued to pass through her. Only when he heard her ragged sigh did he reluctantly ease his hand away from her.

  Mairead curled on his lap and nestled her cheek into his chest. Hamish closed his eyes and he relished the sensation. His loins throbbed with want and it took everything he had not to lay her down and bring her to even greater heights of ecstasy. Nothing had felt so right as Mairead being in his arms.

  “Are you all right?” he asked gently. He brushed her hair with his hand, his dark green gaze searching hers soberly.

  She nodded and smiled at him. “Thank you. I never knew.”

  He kissed her forehead. “We need to talk.”

  “Aye, we do,” she said dreamily. “Now you cannot leave me.”

  Every muscle in Hamish seized simultaneously. He had been a fool to think Mairead would be willing to leave her life and all that she loved for him. Did she think that their passion would somehow enable him to tolerate working under his brother? She had to know that would make him miserable. Did she not care? Did she really think that his feelings for her would make him a fool? Hamish forced her to sit up. “This cannot happen again.” He tried to keep his tone from sounding bitter. “And the only way to ensure that is if we no longer see each other. At least not privately.” He shifted her off his lap and onto the bed. He rose to his feet.

  Mairead felt her throat close off. “But you said . . .”

  Hamish forced himself to look into her eyes, glad that he had not revealed what he had been feeling. “And I meant all those things, but it doesn’t change the facts. Robert’s in charge and I cannot work for him. We are too different. Your home is here at Foinaven and you’ve made it clear that you never want to leave, and nor should you.”

  Mairead could feel her perfect world start to shatter. This couldn’t be happening. She had to be wrong. “But what we just shared, you cannot leave me. . . .”

  “You may be less naïve, but you are still chaste, Mairead.” She looked at him. He misunderstood what she had meant and she wondered if it was not intentional. “Soon you will forget about me, marry, and your husband need never know what happened here tonight. And I promise to never return and remind you.”

  Mairead reached out and clutched one of his hands in her own. “Please don’t go, Hamish. I need you.”

  Hamish closed his eyes. Her “please” was almost enough to make him want to stay. But in the end, that would make them both miserable. “Don’t ask me that, m’ aingeal. I can’t.” He opened his eyes and looked beseechingly at her. “Not even for you.”

  “Then don’t stay, just . . .” Her voice trailed off as she thought everything she wanted to say. That a future with him meant more to her than her home, than her family. That he was all that she had ever dreamed if he loved her in return. But if he did, then he would be begging her to be with him. Hamish had said he didn’t have the ability to love anymore. What if he had been right?

&nbs
p; “Just what?”

  Tears fell down her cheeks. “Just be happy. I want you to be happy.”

  Her soft whimper was killing him. “And that is what I want for you, Mairead. More than you know.” He freed his hand, stepped forward, and bent down to give her a final kiss on the forehead. Slowly he straightened and then headed for the door. He removed the bar, opened it, and then paused. “This is not good-bye. Not yet,” he lied. It was good-bye and they both knew it. They would see each other at dinner or in passing in the courtyard. Maybe even other times when Selah and Robert were around, but never again alone.

  Mairead watched the man who held her heart walk out of her room, and probably her life, forever.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mairead threw her covers aside and stepped onto the cold floor. She ran over and grabbed a piece of firewood and tossed it into the hearth. After several seconds, the dying fire caught the new fuel source and a minute later, the heavy log was ablaze. She then went and grabbed a blanket, threw it around her shoulders, and moved to stand in front of the fire to warm her fingers. The moment Robert was well again and Selah no longer needed her chair in his room, she would ensure it returned to her chambers. She understood Selah’s need, but she really missed her chair.

  This was the second night in a row that she had not been able to sleep. Hamish plagued her thoughts. She had not seen him since he had left her room. He had eaten with his men, leaving her to dine with little Rab, Robert, and Selah. Mairead was glad to see that her brother-in-law was finally on the mend, but she had been a poor conversationalist. Robert had remarked about it and Mairead feared Selah might seek her out, looking for an explanation. But what could she say? I fell in love with a man who doesn’t love me. But that was not true. Hamish did love her.

  Just not enough to want to take me with him.

  Mairead hated it when she answered her own questions. It was like she had a surly, wizened aunt who lived in her head, possessing no tact, few supportive words, and little kindness. Besides, her inner voice was wrong. She had given Hamish a reason. She had given him her heart and he had dismissed it.