The Highlander's Kiss (Highland Legacy Book 2)

by D. K. Combs

  He drew up short.

  Helplessness.

  He felt…helpless.

  And that infuriated.

  With a roar, he lashed out, fist connecting with the trunk nearest to him. It collided with the old bark so forcefully, there was a crack—and it wasn’t his fist.

  Pain traveled up his arm, pain that came nowhere near the amount he felt in his heart, and he leaned his head against the trunk he’d just hit. He wanted to hit it again. He wanted to destroy the trunk until it was nothing but pulp on the ground, until it was nothing but a shredded mess, an echo of what was going on inside of him.

  Alec pulled his fist back, about to take out his mental anguish on the defenseless tree—

  A hand touched his wrist.

  A dainty hand. Soft. Fine-trimmed nails. Skin as pale as the moon.

  Hair as dark as night. As soft as a priceless spool of silk. As entrancing as the eyes that peaked through strands.

  He turned slowly, not able to believe that she was here. That she was touching him.

  But…she was. He took in the sight of her as if it was the last glance he’d ever have.

  Her cheeks were flushed, chest heaving. More hair had fallen from the braid. Her shawl was skewed but she kept it covering her middle, and her grip on his hand…it was as strong as the disbelief in her eyes.

  “Alec,” she breathed, looking at him as she’d seen a ghost. “Alec, what are you… What are you doing here?”

  “Nothing,” he said softly, extracting himself from her hand. He wouldn’t lure her away from a chance at happiness. She had already made the steps, what with the man that watched them from just a few paces away. “Nothing, lass.”

  “Nay.” She shook her head, shoving back strands of hair from her face. “Did you…did you come to see me? Is that what you’re doing here?”

  He swallowed down the rise of emotion inside of him. She sounded stunned, as if she couldn’t believe he would ever come see her. The words fought to be free, but one glance at the man in the distance kept him quiet.

  She was trying to find her happiness with another, and he would give her that.

  Mayhap he had never been the right option for her. He didn’t see things the way she did. He didn’t understand people the same way she did. They were polar opposites—she was socially smart, whereas he…was book smart.

  Simply put, they were so different that they weren’t meant for each other.

  And that was alright. He would find a way to move on, and she would continue the courting with the man who stood off to the side.

  “I need to go, lass,” he said, choking on the words. “Ye’ have yer people to get back to. Ye’ have yer man and—“

  “My man?” She drew back, confusion darkening her brow. “Alec—there is no man.”

  It was as if she wanted him to suffer. Jaw ticking, he nodded toward him. “That one, the one beyind ye’. Go back to him, and forget I was ever here.”

  She looked behind her, then back at him. He soaked in his last look of her. The leaves created a shadow across her face, giving him a less than optimal view, but it would do. He stared down at her, at the way she anxiously clutched the shawl to her stomach, then cursed and ran off.

  And…that was fine.

  Alec turned on his heel, refusing to take one last look at her. It would only hurt him more, only bring him more heartache. His earlier words with Thomas came back to him.

  “What has gotten into your head?”

  “Love, my friend. That is what has gotten into my head—nay, not just my head. My heart. Aye, my heart.”

  He never should have allowed himself to love, because not only was his head suffering from the agony of letting her go, but so was his heart.

  That one hurt the most of—

  A hand, to his shoulder. He stopped, but didn’t turn around.

  His eyes closed on a sigh.

  “Lass, please…”

  “Nay,” she said, hand sliding down his shoulder and to his back. Her touch was slow and thoughtful, as if she herself was trying to memorize the way he felt, the same way he was trying to memorize the way she touched him. “I’ve sent Leith away. We…need to talk.”

  His head bowed. Her hand trailed around his side until she was facing him. By the time he saw her feet in his field of vision, her hand was on his chest, right over his heart.

  A heart that beat way too fast.

  “How will you explain this to him?” he asked hollowly.

  “I’m not sure,” she said, her other hand joining the first. They spread, until they were sliding around his waist in a tight, firm embrace. It took everything inside of him not to lean his chin against her head, not to breathe her in. Not to hold her back. “This…is none of his concern.”

  “Aye, lass, it is—“

  “Nay,” she said into his chest. She gently pushed his plaid aside, nuzzling it out of the way until the bare skin of her cheek could meet his chest. “He is nothing to me.”

  But they had talked of marriage…

  “Lass. Blayne…” He tried to say more, but the craving to hold her became irresistible. For a moment, he gave in. His arms came around her and he drew her close, holding her like this would be their last embrace.

  Because it would be.

  Regardless of what she said, he had heard them mention a marriage, and that…that was something he wasn’t going to get in the middle of, not if that’s what she needed.

  “Alec, please, just… Be quiet for a moment. You can tell me how much you hate me in a moment—I just… I’ve been dying for this, to just feel your arms around me and…”

  He was almost too stunned by her words to notice the sniffle at the end, but he did. He noticed everything about her—including the tremors that wracked her delicate body. Was she…was she really crying against him?

  Alec pulled back slightly, staring down at her. When she met his gaze, her eyes were red and tears streamed down her face in abandon.

  “Och, lass, nay…” He swept her into his arms, then lowered them to the ground with her on his lap. He wouldn’t dare let her precious body touch the ground. “Donna cry, please.”

  “I’ve been…waiting for this…for so long,” she said between sobs, throwing her arms around his neck. The grip she had on him was tight enough to choke him. “I prayed every night, Alec. Every night—to see you. To just…see you. And now you’re here—“

  “Lass, please, calm down,” he whispered, rubbing her back. She was speaking too quickly to keep up with the sobs, but that didn’t stop her. Not until she was ready to stop, at least.

  By the time the tears had stemmed, his shock had dissipated and she was nothing but a blubbering mess. Through all of the mumbles, though, one stuck with him.

  “Please… Alec, please, donna hate me. I cannot live without you.”

  Her head fell against her chest, the words seeming to take the last of her strength.

  The words hung in the air, thick and heavy, surrounded by her uncontrollable sniffles. She was never so weak as to cry like this, but…it couldn’t be helped. It seemed that her pregnancy would be an emotional one.

  His hand paused on her back. She feared he would send her away, that he would resign her to a life of unhappiness. She feared that her words would be thrown back in her face.

  If that happened, how could she bring herself to tell him the news of their bairn? How could she say that he was going to be a father without making it seem as if she was trying to keep him by her side, when he wanted nothing to do with her?

  She knew, as well as she knew herself, that if she said anything to him… He would put aside his feelings. He would step up as a father and do everything to protect his bairn, even if that meant joining a loveless marriage. She would watch him from a distance, thirst for him. Thirst for his love, his passion.

  While he…was only with her for the bairn.

  The outcome was bleak. Painful.

  “I could never hate ye’.” At first, she almost couldn
’t hear the words, her hair muffling the sound. When he spoke again, he pulled back just enough to stare her in the eyes. “Never could I hate ye’, lass.”

  “Then why…why didn’t you come sooner?” she asked, her teeth worrying her lower lip. “I thought—I thought you would hate me for leaving with my father when you needed me most. I thought—I thought you’d be disappointed in me…”

  His eyes closed and he took a trembling breath. “Nay, lass. I—I reached out to ye’ every day. I sent missives to ye’, to yer father. I sent my squire at one point. I sent a carrier pigeon. Short of coming here myself, I did everything I could to reach ye’ until I could no’ take it anymore.”

  “I… I’m failing to understand,” she said, frowning and wiping her cheeks clear of tears. “I never received anything. I would ask my father every morning to send word to you, and—“

  She froze, eyes widening.

  “My father… He kept them hidden from me, didn’t he?” Even though it was impossible for either of them to know whether that was true or not, she started to see red. “I can’t believe him!”

  “Now, lass,” Alec said slowly, putting his hands on her shoulders when she would have angrily stood. “I’m sure he only did it to protect ye’—“

  “From what, though?” she snapped, pushing his hands away. “He was keeping us from each other. How can he say that he wants me to be happy if he knew you were trying to reach me?”

  “Lass—“ He rose to his feet with her, attempting to calm her down. The thing was, she didn’t want to be calm. She wanted to be angry—she had every right to be! For two moons, she had wallowed in her room, pining after this man…and all the while, her father had been keeping letters from her?

  “I’m going to talk with him,” she hissed. “Let me go!”

  He took hold of her shoulder, firm enough to stop her but not so much that it hurt. The shawl was a thin material, and when he grabbed, she resisted. It slid away from her shoulders and off completely, leaving her there in the open, with nothing to protect herself.

  She froze, facing away from him.

  “I need that,” she said quietly, refusing to turn toward him. “Hand it back.”

  “Nay, what ye’ need to do is calm down. Yer getting angry with yer father—do ye’ really think approaching him like this will help our case at all?”

  “Alec,” she said gravely, hands clenching at her side. “Please. Hand me my shawl. I don’t—I don’t want you to see me like this. Please.”

  Something about the tone of her voice must have given her panic away, because there was a tense silence. Still behind her, yet closer now, she heard him ask, “Why?”

  She should tell him. There was no reason he shouldn’t know—they had resolved their biggest issue. Neither hated each other, and she wouldn’t be stuck in a loveless marriage with a man only their for the bairn. Now, if she were to tell him…

  Nay.

  Now was not the time. Not when she was so filled with anger, when there was still so much unsaid and undone between them. She wanted to wait—wait until there was a proper time to tell him that he would be a father.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t think there would be a proper time. Not when he had his mind set on something.

  “Alec…” she said, beseechingly. Desperately—A last-ditch effort.

  “Ye’ve been over emotional,” he said, his voice coming a ways back from her, as if he’d stepped back to actually take in her full form. And that damn tone was present. The one she knew he would use until he found out the source of her despair.

  “I never knew ye’ as a woman to cry, my lady… Yer shoulders and face appear thinner, and yet ye’ wore a shawl—when the weather barely calls for one. I’ve seen ye’ wear trews and a thin linen shirt in the early morning of the hours when the frost was still on the grass and ye’ never seemed affected by it.”

  She hung her heart, heart hammering. To have Connor know had brought a sense of dread. To think that Alec was going to find this out on his own…it was terrifying. If he found out now, and thought that her father had kept them apart—had kept him apart from his own bairn…

  The battle that would ensue would surely destroy them all.

  “Yer frame is thin, and yet…yet yer hips are wider,” he noted quietly from behind her, that damn voice of his taking a turn for the softer side. “Yer hips are wider, and I just bet if ye’ turned around, so would yer bossom…”

  He came up behind her, a hand on her shoulder. A hand that put just enough pressure to turn her around.

  It wasn’t like she gave much of a fight, though.

  Keeping the choked emotion to herself, she turned. Faced him. Faced the truth that he knew, even before he saw.

  “And yer stomach…has a wee bump that was no’ there before,” he said, his voice barely heard through the rushing in her ears. By the look on his face, it seemed like he couldn’t hear them, either. The astonishment was too great on his face, too overwhelming.

  “Alec, I—I wasn’t going to hide it from you for forever—“

  He shook his head, reaching for her. She didn’t know what to do, so she did the easiest thing she could do.

  She went to him.

  She went to him, melted into his embrace. She bathed in the security of it, in the warmth of his body. It was only the two of them, in that vast forest. It was only the two of them, the gift of life between them, and the relief that couldn’t be described by words.

  “Does yer father know?” he asked after a moment. She could hear the thundering of his heart under her cheek, could feel it. She shook her head against his chest.

  “Nay. He…he doesn’t. Although, now I’m not so sure.”

  “What do ye’ mean by that?” She could hear the suspicion in his voice, could feel his body tensing.

  “Connor, my father’s advisor. He caught on right before I was to come to the stream with Leith. I don’t think he will go straight to my father—he is very…volatile right now. I believe he will wait until there’s a more appropriate time. Connor is smart about these things, you see.”

  “Smart, my arse,” Alec grunted. He pulled back from her, just enough to stare down at her. “We need to have a talk with yer father.”

  She nodded. “I know. It’s just a matter of talking to him before he runs your heart through with a sword.”

  “Aye,” he said, pursing his lips. The need to kiss those lips rose inside of her—so she did just that. She leaned up, pressed her lips to his in a soft peck, and then came back down. She had missed him… Not just their bantering, or his mannerisms, but she missed the way he tasted and the way his lips molded perfectly to hers. “Och, lass. Ye’ can’t just kiss me like that—I’m liable to bend ye’ over a fallen tree.”

  Her heart skipped a beat, and she grinned.

  “I’m liable to let you, my lord,” she whispered, reaching for his neck. He grunted, but gave in to her silent demand and leaned down to give her a second kiss. This one wasn’t as quick—Nay, it was hot and long and everything she had craved during the late hours of night.

  She reveled in the soft stubble against her chin, the gentle yet demanding sweep of his tongue across her lower lip. She reveled in the way his arms tightened around her body—up until he was ripping himself away from her.

  “We need to stop,” he grated against her forehead. “We…need to stop, or I might just kidnap ye’ back to my keep.”

  “Would that be so bad?” she asked, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. “I am carrying your bairn, my lord. I shouldn’t be separated from you. Who knows what sort of craziness I might succumb to without you here to help me?”

  He tensed.

  “Lass, as much as I dislike yer parents right now, I donna think setting fire to the keep is in your best interest.”

  She laughed. “Fire? Nay, I wouldn’t set it on fire! I might let loose a few pigs in the main hall, though. I tend to be a bit vengeful when I’m cooped up.”

  “Well, we could no’ have that,
could we?” he asked, a grin kicking up the corner of his mouth. With a false heavy sigh, he scooped her into his arms and started away from their spot. “I best bring ye’ along, lass. I canna, in good conscious, leave you here to wreak havoc upon this unsuspecting keep.”

  She laughed, holding onto his neck as he carried her. At first, she thought he was jesting—surely he couldn’t mean to actually steal her away? Not that she wouldn’t love for him to do so, but the ramifications of him doing so…they were great. And terrifying.

  “Alec, you’re not really going to kidnap me, are ye’?” she asked, putting a hand on his chest. Just a few paces away, a black stead was tied to a tree. She looked between it and him, worry coming over her. “You know my father will rain hellfire on your land for this—nay, not just your land. On you. Are you really willing to let your people potentially suffer the consequences of this?”

  He looked at her, the gravity of the situation reflecting on his face.

  “My people would fight and die for you, lass. Yer carrying my heir. The second my seed was planted inside of you, you became one of us, whether we all knew it right away or not. And I meant what I said all those moons ago, about taking your hand in marriage—if you’ll have me.”

  He…was giving her the option?

  Tears welled in her eyes.

  “Alec…” She didn’t know what to say.

  “Lass,” he said, glancing away from her. “If ye’ want me to put ye’ down right here, I will. But ye’ must know—I love ye’. I love ye’ because of how strong you are, how beautiful ye’ are. How kind and creative and stubborn ye’ are. I love how ye’ live by the seat of yer trews and yer not afraid to put me in my place when I need it. It’s because of how much I love ye’ that if ye’ want to stay…I’ll let ye’, but I will be back. I will be apart of my son or daughter’s life, whether anyone likes it, yer father be damned.”

  “Oh, god,” she said, the words choked by emotion. “Alec—Alec, I know… I know we have our differences sometimes, and you do that damn insufferable deducing thing as well as many others, but I—I want to be with you.”