Much Ado About Highlanders (The Scottish Relic Trilogy)

by May McGoldrick

  “I made no mention of shackles. But I’ve heard rumors that some like it that way when they make love, so if that’s your preference . . .”

  Even as an unexpected thrill ran through her, she opened her mouth to respond. But nothing came out. Realizing she must look like a fish out of water, she closed her mouth.

  His laughter brought an end to her speechlessness.

  “There is something definitely wrong with you, pirate,” she snapped, punching him in the chest.

  But in the next moment, Kenna was gasping for breath at the suddenness of his embrace. Tight against his body, she could feel his arousal hard against her. He kissed her and drew back.

  “As I think you can tell, Kenna, there’s only one thing on my mind right now. And that is making love to my wife.” He pushed the pile of supplies into her arms and picked up the torch. “I say we waste no more time.”

  He didn’t look back at her as he started down the passageway. She followed, but she thought she might collapse under her weight at any moment. Her head was in the clouds. Her mouth was dry. Her heart raced like she’d been running up Ben Nevis. Her skin tingled . . . everywhere.

  Kenna knew her heart. It was time.

  The tunnel seemed to be winding downward for miles into the earth. The air was growing damper, the smell of the grave infused in every breath. The sharp-edged blocks of stone that formed black walls grew so tight in places that they needed to squat and turn sideways to squeeze through. Alexander occasionally looked back to make sure she was still with him.

  Suddenly, the passage widened, and a cool breeze swept through her hair. Like some starving beggar who finally sits at a table, Kenna filled her lungs with the fresh air and hurried to keep up with him.

  “Is there another opening?”

  “Aye, but not an easy one that anyone can find or enter through.”

  As they started climbing down an odd, stair-like rock formation, Kenna saw light at the bottom. The scent of the grave disappeared, supplanted by the smell of water. Reaching a platform of rock, she stood in amazement. From two dark openings, water flowed into a broad pool. A warm, steamy mist rose from the black surface, creating an otherworldly scene. Alexander took her hand and led her along the path that hugged the shimmering black walls.

  Kenna’s breath caught in her chest the moment they entered the next cave. Perfectly cut black pillars arced upward to a cathedral-high ceiling. Beneath them, the water cascaded into a small lake that dropped off again farther along. She could see daylight flooding in from the top of a cave opening. Here, the walls rang with the melody of the waterfalls. The water, no longer black, had taken on a turquoise color and weaved through mist-covered rocks.

  She dropped the bundle she was carrying and walked to the edge of the pool.

  “What is this place? It must be heaven.”

  “An uaimh bhinn, a cave of melody,” he told her. “Many springs join together here from the hills.”

  Kenna smiled, breathing in the freshness of the air. She dropped to her knees beside the turquoise water lapping the smooth stone surface. She splashed her face with it. It was warm—a perfect temperature. She marveled at the crystal clarity of it.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this. Thank you for bringing me here.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. The way he stood watching her made her stomach tighten in anticipation.

  Kenna sat, swinging her legs around and removing the tight shoes. There were blisters on her feet. She dipped them in the water and shivered with pleasure.

  Alexander moved to the edge of the water, standing above her.

  “It’s lovely here.”

  “Aye,” he responded, never taking his eyes off of her. “It’s lovely, indeed.”

  Kenna’s eyes and Alexander’s locked. She remembered his words when they’d left the hermit’s chamber. He wanted her. This was the place he’d brought her to make love. She let her gaze sweep across the water and the walls of the cavern. And she wanted him, too. She wanted him to hold her, to run his hands over her skin, to kiss her.

  “Would you like to go in? You can swim and wash.”

  “With you here, watching?”

  “With me, going in with you.”

  Something inside her tingled at the thought of his eyes on her. She recalled his hardened manhood pressing against her so intimately. Her face warmed.

  “I would like to swim.” She gestured to the underground lake. “There’s plenty of room for us to go in . . . separately. That might be best.”

  “As my wife wishes.” Alexander unfastened the leather belt holding his sword and laid the weapon on the ground beside Kenna. She glanced up at him hastily, startled by the suddenness of the act.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “What do you think I’m doing?” He grinned mischievously, undoing the brooch that held his tartan over his shoulder. It fell with a ringing sound beside the sword. “I’m going for a swim.”

  “With me here?” she blurted.

  “With you here,” he repeated seductively.

  “I thought you just agreed to find your own place to swim.”

  “I agreed to go in separately. I’m going in now and then you can join me.”

  “I don’t want to swim with you.” She watched as he kicked off his boots, exposing muscular calves.

  “Shall I convince you otherwise?” He reached for her but she scrambled to her feet and stepped back. “Would you prefer that I carry you in?”

  She shook her head. “You go in and swim off . . . that way. I’ll find my own place to swim. Now, away with you, beast.”

  “Once again, I’m going to prove to you that I can be reasonable. So I’ll do just as you say.”

  He pulled up his shirt from the belted kilt, and whatever she intended to say trailed off as Alexander peeled it off and dropped it on the ground. She stared at his muscular chest. She’d seen it before, tended to it when he was injured. But this was so different.

  Like a god he stood framed by the glowing light of the cave opening behind him. He was magnificent—she could not deny it. The wound at his side had already healed into a thick scar. Kenna ached to reach out to him, to run her fingers across the rippling lines of his powerful warrior’s body. As if the wind had been knocked from her, she stood motionless. Breathless.

  “I’ll even swim away so you have the privacy you seek.” He slowly unhooked the thick leather belt that held his kilt in place.

  Her throat was as dry as an old bone. She took another step back and watched.

  “Would you like me to undress you before I go in?”

  Wide-eyed, Kenna shook her head, trying to keep her gaze on his chest and not below.

  Something dropped to the ground. It had to be his belt and kilt. He smiled and walked slowly into the water. She waited, waited, only a moment before letting her gaze sweep down over Alexander’s back and buttocks. Magnificent? Naked, he was glorious.

  “Don’t wait too long or I’ll have to come after you.”

  He dove headfirst into the water and a few seconds later Kenna saw his powerful strokes take him across the lake to the cascading falls.

  Kenna recalled all the scrubbing the MacKay women had subjected her to on the day of her wedding to prepare her for the marriage bed. There would be no seductively transparent silk for a nightgown, and right now she had to smell like . . . Lord knows what. Kenna had no idea what Alexander found attractive in her.

  She could no longer see him.

  Kenna unlaced her blouse. Walking to the bank, she quickly stripped off the dress, pulling her arms free and pushing the garment down over her hips. Her shift was a mess for all the material she’d ripped from it. But she left it on. Imagining herself naked while Alexander might be watching was too embarrassing. She removed the pouch from around her neck and tucked it into the folds of her dress.

  A moment later, Kenna broke the surface of the water and ran her fingers through her wavy mass of hair. She sighed with pleasure. She was a
bout to make love to her husband for the first time. As she floated on her back in the warm spring water, Kenna pushed aside all thoughts of the stone and the chamber above. Soon she’ll tell him. But not now. Not this moment. He accepted her decision to wait. She loved him for it.

  She turned and dove into the deeper water, swimming submerged in the cleansing spring-fed currents.

  Alexander had been watching her from the moment the first lace was pulled free.

  She was a vision. Like some water nymph, like some unearthly being, some goddess, she graced these waters with her beauty, with her very presence. He saw her rise out of the water for a moment, and his eyes were drawn to the shift clinging provocatively to her breasts. Alexander stopped breathing.

  Kenna floated into the deep current. She looked in the direction Alexander had disappeared. There was still no sign of him. Suddenly, from beneath her she felt strong hands grip her waist and lift her out of the water.

  She gasped, but even as she did, she knew it was her husband. He drew her legs around his waist.

  “Do you really need to sneak up on me?”

  “I couldn’t stay away any longer.”

  He brushed the dark tip of her breast through the shift. She shivered involuntarily as her nipple hardened.

  “What are you doing?” she asked as he started carrying her into waist-deep water. “I haven’t had a chance to swim.”

  He stopped her complaint with a hard and thorough kiss.

  “Unless you stop me, I plan to have you before I lose my mind. It has been too long, and I’m going to make love to you . . . right now.”

  She could not calm the violent pounding of her heart. Something within her thrilled to know that she could affect him like this. Kenna looked into his intense blue eyes.

  “You say it’s been too long.”

  “Aye, lass.”

  “How long?” she asked. “How long has it been?”

  “You know how long it’s been.”

  “Do I?”

  “Aye. Six months. Longer. I’ve been faithful to you from the moment we exchanged our vows.”

  She met his gaze. At that moment Kenna realized that he wasn’t holding anything back. She believed him.

  “It’s been long enough, wouldn’t you say?” he whispered, his voice husky with desire.

  She didn’t trust her words. She wanted him. Kenna nodded and brushed her lips softly against his.

  Alexander’s mouth took hers, just as his hands pulled her hard against his chest. Suddenly Kenna wanted to lose herself in him, drown in him. Her fingers locked in the strands of his wet hair and she pulled him even closer.

  “Tell me what to do.”

  “This first time? Nothing but hold on to me. I can’t bear to have you touch me. As it is, I may come apart before I even get inside of you.”

  Inside of you. The words clicked in her mind. She wanted him inside of her. Deep inside.

  As he held her close and moved through the water, she ran her fingers along the muscles of his chest and neck. She saw his gaze wander down over the transparent material clinging to her body. She pulled herself higher and trailed her head back as he forged through the water. He kissed her chin and ran the tip of his tongue down the hollow of her throat.

  When he could stand, he swept her up in his arms and carried her. Once ashore, he placed her on her feet, and she stood at the edge of the water as he picked up a blanket and spread it on the smooth rock. Her eyes focused on his manhood and she hesitated. He was huge, intimidating. She wondered how they could possibly fit together.

  Before her doubts could become actions, she was back in his arms. He kissed her deeply, and Kenna shivered with excitement when he traced the swells of her breasts. She pulled back and followed the movement of his fingers and saw her nipples again come to life beneath his touch. He pushed her wet shift off her shoulders until it was held up only by the tips of her breasts. She thought she would die of the anticipation that inflamed her, so she slipped the chemise past her breasts, letting it drop to the ground. Now there was nothing that separated her body from his gaze. Nothing that separated her burning skin from his.

  “You are so beautiful.” His mouth descended on hers, crushing her lips with his bruising passion.

  A hot, liquid yearning began to flow deep within Kenna, rising from her very core and searing her flesh with its heat. Wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, she felt Alexander’s hands move down her bare back and take hold of her buttocks, lifting her against him. She moaned at the feel of his arousal pressing against her flesh.

  “Husband and wife. Say it after me.”

  “Make me yours, Alexander.”

  He laid her down on the blanket and before she could move to make room for him, his mouth closed over her breast. Her mouth fell open with a gasp as he circled her hard, erect nipple with his tongue before tugging at it with his lips and teeth. She paused, paralyzed with excitement, and watched him through half-lidded eyes until she could barely lie still another moment.

  He buried one hand in the heavy silken spill of her wet hair, tugging it back, exposing the stretch of her neck. He ran his tongue and lips over the skin of her throat while his other hand cupped her breast, his thumb stroking the aroused nipple.

  “I wanted to do this to you from the moment Diarmad brought you back to me in the abbey.”

  “I was tied. Such wicked thoughts,” she groaned as his hand slid down her stomach, over the downy mound, and between the folds of her womanhood. She shook from the vibration of her body’s response. Her hips curled against his hand, and one leg lifted and wrapped itself around his waist and his naked buttocks.

  Her blood pounded in her brain. Her body and skin were on fire, and she felt her breaths growing shorter as he continued to stroke the sensitive spot within her. Kenna threw back her head and moaned as he probed deeper and deeper into her intimate heat, and his mouth once again suckled a breast.

  Sensation began to crowd out her consciousness. It was like gliding along on some fast-moving cloud, or running in a dream down some endless hill, feeling the excitement rising and never wanting it to end. But there was an urgency that told her that complete fulfillment was near at hand. Still, she didn’t want it to finish. No matter how rapturous whatever lay beyond could be, she didn’t want to cross that line—this time, not without him.

  Blindly, she reached out for him, her fingers groping down his body until she found the long, hard shaft. The skin was hot, and he throbbed to her touch. Her hand curled around him and slid the entire length until her thumb caressed the satiny crown.

  “Nay, Kenna,” he groaned tearing his mouth away from her breast. “Not yet.”

  But in spite of his voiced reluctance, he hardly resisted as she brought the broad tip to her moist folds and pressed herself against it.

  “Now, Alexander,” she whispered, looking into his passion-glazed eyes. “Take me now.”

  Driven with the urgency to have him inside of her, she moved with him as he centered himself over her and took hold of her hips.

  “You belong to me now . . . and forever.”

  She drew his head down, kissing him with all the passion she had in her.

  As he drove into her, Kenna stiffened at first, stunned by the tearing pain of his entry. She kept her eyelids pressed shut and bit her lip to keep from crying out as he ceased to move for what seemed like an eternity. But then, gradually, she felt him begin to move, slowly at first, and then faster and faster, until her mind cast off all memory of pain, all memory of innocence, and the white-hot lights of some blazing heaven opened and consumed her.

  “The Macpherson ship is sailing past Oban. It’s heading north.”

  Maxwell drove the point of his dagger deep into the rough-hewn table.

  “Are Alexander and his wife aboard the blasted thing?” he barked.

  Not an hour earlier, he’d received word from his priest’s man that the two had left the camp. They’d even been given a horse by the priest and sen
t north to Oban, where Maxwell waited to spring the trap. But the bloody Highlanders had yet to be seen.

  “We don’t know. No one saw anything. But Macpherson and the woman must have boarded somewhere, for that ship’s just been sitting there a-waiting.”

  “How about the younger one . . . James? Where is he now?”

  “He ain’t moved since coming north to Oban. He’s still at that inn a stone’s throw from the harbor. The livery boy says, word is that he’s waiting for more fighters to arrive before coming after us.”

  Maxwell stood up, yanked the dagger from the table, and stalked to the fire. He wouldn’t be so stupid as to wait any longer. He wasn’t about to waste men fighting James Macpherson after the Highlander gathered more men. And he had no way to attack that ship or put up a chase, either. It was one thing to burn a village and scare gutless tenants; it was another to fight and lose. And for what? He wasn’t being paid to fight Highlanders, only to get the woman.

  Evers was pushing north. Maxwell wasn’t going to wait around to be chastised for what he should or shouldn’t have done. There were too many coves south of Oban where those two could have been picked up. Damn them all.

  He turned to his men. “We still get them to come to us.”

  “How?”

  “If they’re sailing north past Oban, then there are only three places they could be going. Benmore Castle, MacKay land in the godforsaken north, or Glosters Priory on Loch Eil. We don’t have enough men to be going in all three directions.”

  Maxwell’s men waited for him to continue.

  “But we do have enough men to snatch away the ones that matter to them,” he said. “We take the right people, and the bitch will come willingly . . . and give us anything we want in exchange.”

  Chapter 17

  Is’t come to this? In faith, hath not the world

  one man but he will wear his cap with suspicion?

  Shall I never see a bachelor of three-score again?

  A Highland clan would fight ten years over a shaggy-haired cow and a hundred years over a barren, windswept sea marsh that no one really wanted. A broken promise over a political alliance could set two clans off, and a reneged-upon marriage contract could start bloody feuding that would cost the best warriors of a generation. Bullheaded in their ways and passionate in their opinions. There was no other way of describing a Highlander.