Never Kiss a Highlander

by Michele Sinclair

  Hamish stared at Mairead. Her hair was a mess and her chemise clung to her curves. He had never seen a woman looking more beautiful. If Mairead had gone to the Mackays, she would have found a champion there. More than one most likely and the idea caused his eyes to grow cold and unfeeling. “The plan has merit. Ulrick would not want to face the wrath of the Mackays to get to you.”

  “What about the wrath of the McTiernays?” she posed, her eyes wide and serious. “Wouldn’t they protect me just as fiercely?”

  Hamish narrowed his gaze. His heart was starting to pound at the implication and he was afraid to assume that she might have changed her mind. “Does it matter? I thought you would never tie yourself to a man who you believed had been compelled by honor and sacrifice.”

  Mairead swallowed, hating her own words being parroted back at her. “It matters. Would they?”

  Hamish studied her for several long seconds, nothing in his expression giving away the turbulent emotions he felt inside. “Aye. More fiercely than any clan in Scotland.”

  Mairead sat still for several seconds. She needed to finish telling Hamish everything, but she needed to know one thing first. “Why would you agree to marry someone you think would make you miserable?”

  Hamish scowled darkly. “Those are your words, not mine.”

  Mairead’s chin jutted out. “Only after you begged me to let you go that . . . that day,” Mairead challenged softly, unable to say the words “when you made love to me.” “You said that my ‘please’ would cause you to do something that would make us both miserable.”

  Confusion infiltrated Hamish’s implacable features, causing them to soften as he realized his role in her refusal. “That is because leaving Foinaven, your sister, and even Robert and Rab, would make you miserable.”

  Mairead closed her eyes. Hamish did not believe they would be unhappy; he feared taking her from her home. She shared that fear and it was time he knew why. “I love Foinaven and consider it my home, but that has not been why I have been so reluctant to leave it.” She had his full attention then. “Ulrick threatened to kill all I loved if I was not here when he returned.”

  Hamish breathed deeply as the desire to kill Ulrick once again consumed him. He did not want to scare her and rose to his feet. Rage was erupting inside him, racing along his every nerve. Part of it was aimed at Mairead for trying to handle the burden by herself. She claimed to love him, but not once had she trusted him enough with the truth.

  Hamish turned and Mairead could see that he was once again preparing to move outside. She reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him. Her breath caught in her throat when he looked down at her. His green eyes had grown dark and were smoldering with a mixture of anger and a possessive intensity that made her heart flutter. Jeán and Lynnea were right. Hamish did not just want her. He loved her. He may not say the words, but at this moment it did not matter. “Do not leave me.”

  “I will only be outside.”

  “That is not what I meant. I want to marry you.”

  Hamish’s jaw twitched. “There is no need, Mairead. I will make sure that Ulrick will never be a threat to you or anyone else you love.”

  Mairead’s brow furrowed and she rose to her feet, forgetting that she was in only her chemise. Her full focus was on Hamish. “That is what you think? That I’m using you to ensure my safety and that of my family?”

  Hamish fought to keep his desire in control and his expression emotionless. “I can give you other options. Ones that can offer you a future of your choosing, not one you were forced into accepting.”

  Mairead’s heart almost stopped. Then it began to pound furiously. There was only one option that could ensure her happiness. Now that she had accepted that fact, it was time that Hamish did too.

  “You asked me to marry you. Was that only because you wanted to save me? Because if so, then we really do need to discuss those other possibilities.” Mairead rose to her feet. Her question was more of a challenge, a declaration, a promise. “But I think they were an excuse. I think you want to marry me. And would even if there was no Ulrick, danger, my sister, or the choices made twelve years ago.”

  A shadow crossed Hamish’s features as raw emotions warred inside him. Mairead wanted to say yes to his proposal, but she was waiting for declarations of love—something he could not give her, possibly ever. Every time he came close to voicing the emotion, things went wrong. Actual proclamations resulted in disaster. He may not be able to say it out loud, but Mairead was his, no one else’s, never had been and never would be.

  Mairead found herself suddenly pulled against his chest. His eyes burned down into hers. “No more games, Mairead. No more delays. We will marry tomorrow when we return.”

  Mairead grabbed the front of his leine, refusing to let him go back out into the cold. “Then stay with me.”

  Hamish shook his head and his hands enfolded hers. She squeezed her fists tighter and he closed his eyes, seeking the fortitude he needed to walk away. He wanted her, but he needed them to be bound together first. “When we marry, I want no one to ever doubt that it was our choice. Yours and mine. Uncontrolled passion will not have a part in dictating our futures.”

  To his surprise, Mairead nodded, genuine agreement sparkled in her eyes. And yet she did not let go. “You said no more delays. I agree. I pledge myself to you right now. There is no priest anywhere near Foinaven. A handfast needs no witnesses. Only you, me, and God. There is no reason to wait.”

  Hamish blinked down at her. “Just you and me?” he asked, a mixture of confusion and a need for reassurance in his voice. “You do not want your sister to be a witness?”

  Mairead shook her head. “I am tired of letting others influence my actions and decisions. I don’t want to worry about Selah and Robert and their reaction. I don’t even care about Ulrick and his threats. We can handle whoever dares to try. All I know is that I love you and I want to be yours and more than anything I want to know that you’re mine.”

  With those words of love and trust, Hamish felt the cracks in the wall around his heart begin to break. It scared him. He was already vulnerable and she had too much power over him as it was. But he would never love another woman as much as he did Mairead. His arms came around her, pinning her to his body, possessive, certain, his hold unbreakable. He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her against him and the fact she wanted him back with the same intensity.

  “To pledge now, to God, even without witnesses, would be just as binding,” Hamish agreed. “But know this, as soon as there is a priest, this union will be made permanent. We will not be revisiting this decision in a year and a day.”

  Mairead smiled up at him, her face full of longing and complete assurance this was what she wanted. Some allowed that handfasting was a temporary union and either party could elect to dissolve it after a year and a day so that it was as if it had never happened. “Nothing will get me to let you go, Hamish. Not even you and your arrogant, flirtatious ways.”

  For the first time, Hamish felt completely reassured. “Determination and persistence. Such fantastic qualities,” he said as he smiled down at her, flashing his heart-stopping grin that broke hearts wherever he went.

  Mairead reached up to trace his incredible smile with the pad of her finger. Jeán was right. A girl had to love a man with dimples. It was an unfair advantage and he knew it. “I take you Hamish of the clan MacBrieve to be my husband. I make this pledge to you and to God.”

  Hamish swallowed the emotion threatening to choke him. It was rare to marry this way. Handfasts were still common as priests were difficult to find in many of the more remote areas of Scotland, but usually the ceremony had witnesses. However, they were not necessary. It only made the marriage easier to prove. A couple only needed to exchange their consent for a union to be just as legally and bindingly married by the law of both church and state. “I take you Mairead of the clan MacMhathain to be my wife. I make this pledge to you and to God.”

  With a groan, Hamish cupp
ed her face and claimed her mouth with his. The moment he said the words, his control left him and the need to kiss her, to have her taste in his mouth, to feel his desire returned in her embrace, became nearly crippling. He kissed her hard. His tongue plundered into her accepting mouth. Mairead responded with a feverish intensity that ignited in him a passion that had been dormant too long.

  Hamish forced himself to slow down. His body was on fire and she was so accepting, trusting, and willing that he had to fight the desire to bury himself inside her, then and there, without preliminaries. For tonight nothing would stop him from making Mairead his, claiming her so that she could never leave him for another. But he also wanted her to feel treasured. With a gentleness he had not known he was capable of, he pulled back, tracing the contours of her lips with his own.

  After a moment, Mairead relaxed into him, her lips softening. Hamish was kissing her. Thoroughly. Completely. It held such tenderness and longing that it melted her insides and brought unexpected tears to her eyes. He loved her.

  Mairead wrapped her arms around his neck and caressed him lovingly. She enjoyed this gentle side to him, but he had lit a fire in her two days ago that had yet to be extinguished. She needed more and greedily swept her tongue across his lower lip, darting it inside when he opened to her. Hamish moaned and slanted his head. Mairead mimicked him as he succumbed to her enticement to deepen the kiss.

  A low rumble of satisfaction escaped from deep within him. His right arm began to drift lower and palmed her buttocks, pulling her closer, loving the feel of the curvaceous woman in his arms. Mairead raised her head in surprise and then recaptured his lips with a moan as she tunneled her fingers into the russet-brown waves of his hair and held on.

  Hamish moved his hand up, cruising gently over the thin material of her chemise until it reached her breast. He began to knead the flesh in a sensual, torturous way, flicking his thumb over and over her nipple, relishing her response.

  Mairead moved against him restlessly, her nipples pushing erotically against the thin material and into his palm. Her body began to vibrate with liquid fire as waves of desire beat at her. She could only cling to him, a safe anchor in a storm of growing, turbulent emotions.

  When her hips began to grind against his own turgid arousal, Hamish could scarcely breathe. He had only just begun and he was not sure if he would last much longer if she continued her sensual attack. “Do not . . . do that,” he whispered huskily.

  Mairead ignored his plea and her hands, of their own accord, found the hem of his leine and began to push the material upward. Without argument, Hamish helped her. With enormous eyes, she watched as he pulled the shirt over his head. Then his green eyes held hers captive as he freed his belt. His plaid hit the floor.

  He stood naked in the firelight, but she was mesmerized by his eyes. They were filled with such intensity and hunger. And it was for her. Only her.

  He reached out to touch her hair, which fell in tangled waves over her shoulders and down to her waist. The movement broke the spell of his gaze, letting her eyes drift over him. She could finally see the muscled breadth of his shoulders, the classic V of his torso, and his lean hips. When her eyes fell on his long powerful legs and what was between them, she stared. Her blood became hotter as her pulse raced. Hamish was huge. She knew she should be terrified of what was about to happen, but all she could think about was that she wanted him. God, how she wanted him.

  Hamish’s hand let go of her hair and he stepped in close to her. He dropped soft, persuasive kisses into her hair as his fingers went to her shoulder and began to edge the sleeve of her chemise down her arm. Mairead splayed her hands over his broad chest, drinking in his strength as she entrusted herself to a man for the first time in her life. The chemise fell to the floor and her exposed breasts tingled when they came against his hair-roughened chest. Her hands started to explore the hard lines of his back, his waist, and hips. She loved to feel the hardness of his muscular body, but when his hands moved up and cupped her breasts, she could only hold on and close her eyes. She quivered.

  With her body finally free of any garments, Hamish’s fingers brushed her silky skin, his thumb stroking her nipples into hard peaks. He murmured “sonuachar” before he lowered his mouth to taste the creamy offering.

  At the first touch of his tongue and the scrape of his teeth, Mairead’s legs almost gave out. Hamish held on to her, keeping her from falling as he drew her into the moist heat of his mouth. Her body became boneless, liquid, aching. Then, without warning, Hamish swept her into his arms and the small points of her fingertips dug into the back of his neck and shoulders as he carried her across the room.

  Hamish paused at the bed and kissed her intensely. Then he lowered her down, stretching out beside her, his larger, heavier frame dwarfing hers. “You’re beautiful,” he said with awe in a ragged voice.

  He slid a finger down her cheek. She looked wildly desirable, framed by her magnificent mane of tawny hair. He was completely entranced by the softness of her skin, the curve of her hips. She was his own bean bhàsail, with seductive creamy thighs and pearly skin. That she did not know it made her all the more dangerous to his soul.

  Hamish let his finger drift lower, along her throat, through the valley of her breasts and then splayed his hand across her flat stomach. He could not get enough of her. The more he touched, the more he needed. She took his breath away.

  “I think of you constantly.” His breath was uneven with wanting her, needing her, burning for her, and knowing that he no longer had to fight his ever-growing desire.

  Then, unable to delay another moment, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Mairead moaned and tilted into his embrace. He knew that she was gifting him with her body to show her undying love and devotion. It stirred something within him, something primal and his mouth became aggressive and more possessive.

  Mairead was caught in a whirlwind of emotion and sensation. His kiss made her feel desired, beautiful, and more cherished than she could even describe. Her breath quickened and her breasts heaved in expectation with the increased fervor of his kiss. The outside storm also grew in intensity. The downpour’s rhythm created one in Mairead and she wrapped her arms tightly around Hamish, kissing him and whispering her love.

  Hamish’s hands moved over her urgently. He needed to touch every part of her, to feel her crushed against his body and the soft fullness of her breasts against his chest. Mairead was so soft. Soft and sweet and vulnerable. And she offered herself without reserve.

  He covered her body with his, bringing them slowly into full contact, and she moaned in pleasure. He once more aggressively claimed her lips as her hands skimmed over his large frame, pausing periodically to massage and pull him closer. It was as if she wanted to touch him and explore his body as he was doing with hers. Never had he felt this much desire, this much longing and need from a woman.

  Hamish caressed her shoulders in fluid strokes, tracing the contours of her breasts, her ribs, and her belly. He allowed his hands to linger, cradling her breasts as he tore his mouth away and began to press hot kisses down the column of her neck. Unhurried, he moved down the curve of her throat, tracing her collarbone and bending lower.

  A tremor started between her heated thighs and Mairead arched her back, desperate for his touch.

  Her body curved toward him and Hamish smiled with satisfaction. She writhed as he delayed addressing her soft pleas, letting his fingers tease, pinch, massage, and stroke her breasts into a delirium. Then, unable to wait any longer, he licked one tight nipple, curling his tongue about it before drawing it into his mouth.

  Mairead cried out softly and closed her eyes. He suckled, deep and deeper, eliciting sounds of pleasure and pain. Her breathing became erratic as undefinable sensations caused by his mouth and tongue coursed through her.

  With a last flick of his tongue, Hamish shifted to her other breast, leaving his hand to continue the sensual onslaught as his mouth devoured her other peak.

  Mairead
clung to him. Heat was radiating from his skin. A hot tide of passion raged through them both as he continued to suckle while his hand began to slide lower.

  His hand trailed down her stomach and Hamish pulled away to look at her. His hand found her soft curls and then, with a low, husky groan, he closed his fingers possessively over her. Mairead gasped and he was more than gratified at the sight before him. Her entire face was flushed, her mouth swollen, and her eyes were heavy with passion.

  Then he touched her, exploring her with a deliberate possessiveness that made Mairead quiver. She was burning, hot silk in his arms—her body pliant, liquid heat. Another shudder went through her as he slipped a seeking finger inside her. He went lower still and dizziness swept over her as he found the sensitive flesh just below her soft, wet channel. There he drew an exquisite little pattern that nearly drove her over the edge.

  Mairead closed her eyes and clung to his shoulders as he introduced another finger into her, crying out as he began to slowly separate his fingers, stretching her gently. He seemed to know exactly where to touch her, how lightly, how slowly, how deeply. She moaned as he dove deeper. He stroked her into ever-growing flames. Her body was on the precipice. She wanted more of him inside her and lifted her hips against his hand.

  Hamish smiled a satisfied, possessive smile. He was so hard he hurt, and his imagination was going wild, thinking of all the things he’d like to do to her. But seeing her writhe wild beneath him was worth the wait.

  With his knee, he urged her thighs wider. As slowly as he could manage, he settled himself in between and lifted her hips. She was slick with need, hot, tight, and velvet soft. He could wait no longer and began to penetrate.

  He struggled against his need to thrust deep and hard. Mairead needed slow and gentle. Her eyes had closed tight.