by Monica Burns
“It was nothing.” She dismissed his concern with a shake of her head. Despite her determination to shrug off the vision, it was difficult to completely ignore the vivid memory of her burned face and arm.
“That is no’ an answer, Mrs. MacTavish.” The commanding note in his voice said he would have the truth from her one way or another.
“But it is the only one I can give you, Julian. There was no rhyme or reason to it.” Patience eyed him with a small amount of frustration. The dark frown of worry on his face made her soften her tone. “I saw an overturned carriage with its wheels spinning wildly in the air. Then I was surrounded by flames and smoke. You know my gift is sometimes nothing more than symbols representing things happening around me.”
“Aye, but your aunt wrote me that you had the same vision when you were with her last week.” He paused for a moment as his large hand caressed her cheek. “She said you were left quite shaken by it.”
“Aunt Matilda is far too busy meddling in the affairs of the Rockwood family and not her own personal matters,” Patience said with exasperation.
“I think that is something akin to the pot calling the kettle black, considering you are here tonight meddling in your sister’s personal affairs.” The amusement in his voice made her jerk in surprise.
“Who told you?” Patience exclaimed then quickly shook her head as she rolled her eyes. “Aunt Matilda.”
“Aye,” he chuckled. “She’s a veritable fount of information when it comes to the Rockwood clan. But she was right to send me word of your vision and its effect on you.”
“I’m so glad you’re home,” Patience said softly as she brushed her fingers across his temple. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“No’ as much as I have missed you mo ghràdh.”
The Gaelic term for ‘my love’ filled her heart with happiness. From the moment they’d met it had been Julian’s brogue that had seduced her. He whispered more endearments as he pulled her into his arms. How she’d missed him these past two months. The nearness of him made her tremble, while the potent, male scent of him filled her senses.
“You tremble, lass,” he murmured with a hint of laughter in his voice as he bent his head to nibble at her earlobe. “Are you afraid of me?”
“No,” she whispered as her body responded to the playful nip on her ear. “I’m only afraid you’ll leave again.”
“You need have no’ fear of that, mo ghràdh. I’ve no intention of doing so.”
Julian’s fingers caught her chin and tilted her head up to kiss her hard. Muscular arms held her in a tight embrace. Her hands splayed against the lapels of his jacket, the hard, solid muscles of his chest pressed into her palms and made her ache to see him undressed. The furious beat of his heart pounded against her fingertips betraying his excitement.
His tongue slipped past her lips and mated with hers in a furious duel of heat and passion. A primitive need threatened to consume her as her body craved what she’d been denied for so long. In a wanton display of desire, she pressed her body into his and rubbed her hips against him in a silent demand for what only he could give her.
A dark growl vibrated out of his chest as he roughly caught her hand and dragged it down to where he was rock hard beneath his kilt. Knowing he held tight to the tradition of wearing nothing beneath his Scottish garb, her fingers grabbed the side of his tartan and quickly scrunched it up. The plaid material fell over her wrist as she slipped her hand beneath his kilt to slide her palm up the inside of a sturdy thigh before grasping him firmly.
Thick and hard against her fingers, she stroked his erection in an upward movement until her thumb ran over the tip of him. A small droplet of wet desire clung to the swollen cap of his hard length, and she smeared it over his foreskin. The low groan rumbling in his chest indicated how much he liked what she was doing. She stroked him slowly again, and another guttural sound escaped him as he thrust his hips forward against her hand.
Dark hair fragrant with a mixture of soap and bergamot brushed her cheek as he lowered his head to caress the side of her neck and shoulders with his mouth. She tightened her grip on him and slid her fingers upward with a small jerk then back down to where his sacs were. The tips of her fingers scraped across them, and he jerked at the light caress.
Julian sucked in a sharp breath, and in the next instant, his hands were resting on her shoulders as he held her at arm’s length. The desire blazing in his gaze threatened to singe her as she looked up into his dark brown eyes. His breathing harsh and rapid, Julian shook his head as if to clear it.
“No’ here, mo ghràdh,” he ground out harshly. “I intend to bed my wife in the privacy of our own bedroom, because once I start, I’ll no’ be able to let her out of our bed.”
“Then I suggest we leave now, Mr. MacTavish, or I’ll be tempted to punish my husband by dancing the night away with as many men as possible.” The look of possessiveness that darkened Julian’s face made her laugh. “I take it you disapprove of my alternate plan of action.”
“Aye,” he snapped as he pulled her back into his arms. “You are mine mo ghràdh, and do no’ you ever forget it.”
“I won’t,” she said as she pull his head down and kissed him gently. The sudden echo of a cane tapping the flagstone patio made Patience jump, and Julian slowly released her.
“Lady Patience?” The aristocratic notes of the dowager Countess of Lyndham’s voice filtered through the air. Patience moved out of the darkness followed by Julian.
“I’m here, my lady.”
“Excellent, someone said you had come out to the terrace,” the woman said as she lifted her lorgnette to inspect Patience’s appearance. “You’re flushed, child.”
“Am I?” Patience touched her cheek with a small laugh of embarrassment.
The stately dowager countess braced both hands on the top of her cane to study Julian who had moved to stand at Patience’s side. The woman arched her eyebrows as her gaze ran up and down him. With her eyes still focused on Julian, the elderly woman’s mouth twisted in a small smile of appreciation.
“Now I understand why your cheeks are hot with color, Lady Patience,” the woman said with a distinct note of amusement in her voice. Patience could feel her cheeks grow even hotter beneath the dowager countess’ amused look. With a laugh, she shook her head at the elderly woman.
“Lady Lyndham, may I present my husband, Julian MacTavish,” Patience said with a distinct note of happiness in her voice. Lady Lyndham extended her hand, and Julian kissed the woman’s fingers with a small flourish.
“I am honored to at long last meet the elusive Dowager Countess of Lyndham.” Julian’s smile was designed to melt a woman’s heart, and for a brief second Patience experienced a twinge of jealousy.
“Elusive? Ha,” the elderly woman said with an unladylike snort of laughter. “You might be able to charm all the women here, but I’m far too old for flattery, my boy.”
“I can no’ believe that, my lady. A woman should never tire of being told how delightful her company is, no matter her age.”
Lady Lyndham laughed again as she dismissed his flirtation with a wave of her hand, but there was a distinct look of pleasure on her face at Julian’s compliment. The dowager turned toward Patience.
“My dear, might I borrow your carriage to take me home? My grandson is otherwise occupied, which is an excellent sign of his reconciliation with Constance,” the dowager said with a smile. “But I have no idea how long they’ll be, and I confess I am weary from all the excitement.”
“Of course,” Patience exclaimed as she noted the sudden look of exhaustion that had settled on the elderly woman’s face. “We were actually about to leave as well.”
“It would be our pleasure to take you home, Lady Lyndham.” Julian offered his arm to the woman. “Shall we?”
With a pace that matched the dowager’s, Julian escorted the elderly woman back into the well-lit ballroom.
§ § §
Patience’s eyes fluttered
open as she covered her yawn with her hand. Dawn was barely peeking in through the bedroom curtains, and she smiled with happiness. Julian was home and all was right with her world.
“You’re beautiful, mo leannan. I will never be able to have enough of you.” The husky words startled her, and she jerked her head in his direction.
“You’re awake.”
“Aye.” Propped up on his elbow, Julian cradled his head in his hand as he stared down at her. “I have been for some time now.”
“And you didn’t wake me,” she teased as she remembered how they’d spent themselves in passionate lovemaking when they’d returned home last night after seeing the Dowager Countess Lyndham home.
“No, I’ve been watching my wife as she slept.” There was something almost reverent in his voice that tugged at her heart. Patience turned on her side and reached up to trail her fingertips across his cheeks until they came to rest on his lips.
“I hope I didn’t snore,” she said with a mischievous smile.
“Just a gentle roar.” Julian’s eyes twinkled with amusement, and she quickly pushed him onto his back. She stared down at him in mock annoyance.
“A gentle roar? I’ll have you know I do not snore at all.”
“I’m sorry mo ghràdh.” He shook his head. “I do no’ lie, but it is a beautiful snore nonetheless.”
“I think perhaps I should punish you for such impertinence, Mr. MacTavish.”
“And what punishment might you inflict, madam?” His eyes darkened as his deep chuckle vibrated against the palm of her hand.
Patience lowered her head to flick her tongue over his left nipple before she grabbed it with her teeth and gently abraded it. The fresh scent of evergreen mixed with the heat of his skin and brushed against her nose as she breathed in the potent male smell of him. She nipped at him again, savoring the delicious taste of him against her tongue. The action pulled a low growl out of him. His hands cupped her face, but she pulled away to move her mouth lower to where he was already stiff and hard.
Feathering light kisses across his stomach, she blew gently on his erection before continuing to brush her mouth across his muscular hip down to his leg. He was hot and all male against her lips. Her mouth brushed over the small, birthmark on his hip that reminded her of a bird in flight. Gently, she bit down on the mauve colored flesh, marking him as hers in much the same way nature had. Another growl rumbled out of him, and she smiled against his skin before grazing her teeth across his leg to his inner thigh.
“If this is your form of punishment, mo leannan, I approve.”
“Do you?” she lifted her head and blew across his hard, thick length before her tongue flicked out to lightly trace its way up to the salty tip of him.
“Aye,” he said hoarsely as his fingers slipped through her hair to cradle the back of her head.
She blew across his erection again before her tongue swirled around the tip of him. Repeating the action, she heard him draw in a sharp hiss of air. Slowly, she licked across the top of him as she looked up at his face. Eyes closed, he arched his hips upward slightly in a silent request for her to continue.
When she didn’t move, his eyes opened, and she smiled at the frustration flashing in the dark depths. Their gazes locked, she licked the tip of him once more as she might a spoon covered with the last traces of cream. A low groan reverberated out of him.
“Should I stop?” she murmured as her tongue swirled around him once more.
“God, no.” He shook his head forcefully. “But I’d rather have you astride me, lass. I want to feel you wrapped around me—milking me the way only you can.”
Ignoring his words, she swirled her tongue around the cap of his thick length before she took him completely into her mouth. The action pulled a dark cry from his throat as his lower body jerked hard in a display of pleasure. As she slid her mouth up and down over his erection, she applied pressure to the spot just behind his sacs that she’d discovered always enhanced his pleasure. Another groan of desire echoed above her head as she tightened her mouth on him. He jerked again before his hands firmly grasped her arms, and he dragged her upward to make her straddle him.
“No, mo ghràdh, you will have your satisfaction, too.”
As he spoke, he thrust hard up into her. Pleasure streaked through her as their bodies joined together, and he encouraged her to ride him hard. One strong hand curled around her hip, while his other pressed against her breast bone to force her backward until his hard, thick length hit a sensitive spot inside her. The sensation tugged a cry of pleasure from her throat. Hands braced against his hard thighs, she arched her back and worshipped his body with hers as she met his thrusts with equal force.
With each stroke of her body against his, her heart beat faster as she cried out his name as desire cascaded over her. Heat spread its way through every cell in her body until she was on fire. A familiar sensation of euphoria began to build inside her, and she increased the pace of her body rocking against his.
Small ripples of pleasure pulled at her insides as her body gripped his with increasing pressure. The faster she moved against him, the more quickly her body pulsed against his. As her spasms increased, his body continued to pound fiercely against hers until in a fevered pitch of pleasure her body jerked to a stop. Her cry of satisfaction echoed over them as her insides shuddered and flexed around his thick erection.
A second later, his shout of pleasure matched hers as he made one last thrust into her then throbbed hard inside her. The intensity of their joining made her fall forward to press her forehead against hers. Harsh breaths emanated from both of them, and her heart was beating wildly in her chest.
Julian’s strong hands caressed her hips in a loving fashion before they slid up along her sides and cupped her face. With slow, tender kisses, his caresses left her sighing as she allowed her body to settle against his. Her head pressed into the curve of his shoulder, she breathed in his unique aroma. It was reminiscent of the beautiful, harsh, and wild highlands. It emphasized the man holding her came from a long line of fiercely proud and strong Scotsmen.
“I love you, Julian,” she whispered against his jaw. At her declaration he turned his head and pressed his lips to her brow.
“And I you, mo ghràdh,” he said with a rough edge of emotion in his voice. Nestled in his arms, Patience released a happy sigh, and a chuckle rumbled out of him. “I take it you are satisfied, Mrs. MacTavish?”
“For the moment,” she said with a laugh. His hand swatted her behind, and she yelped in surprise.
“My absence has turned you into an insatiable wench.” His fingers tilted her chin up so he could see her face. “But ‘tis good to know you missed me.”
“I did,” she whispered as she stroked a cheek rough with stubble. “Please don’t leave me alone for so long if you must go to Crianlarich.”
“I had no choice, Patience. My father had need of me, and I could no’ shirk my duty.”
Julian stared up at the ceiling, and the tension in him said her refusal to go to Crianlarich had disappointed him more than she realized. Worse, her request just now had sounded as if she didn’t want him to go back to his childhood home at all. She rested her hand on his heart as she curled into his side.
“I’m sorry, my darling. I didn’t mean it that way. I just missed you.”
“Then next time, come with me,” he said quietly. The statement made her stiffen.
“We both know that will make things more difficult for you.” She didn’t bother to elaborate that her father-in-law would do his best to make her miserable for the entire time she was at the castle.
“I know my father is a hard man, Patience. But he had thought I would marry a bride of his choosing.”
“A bride who didn’t have English blood.”
“There’s more than enough Stewart blood in you to suit my fancy.”
“And what about a bride who cannot give you a son,” she choked out.
With a small jerk, she pulled away from hi
m to roll onto her side with her back to him. The Crianlarich wanted a grandson, and she’d failed to produce another heir to the Crianlarich lineage. She wanted nothing more than to give Julian a son, but she had come to believe it would never happen. Julian’s hand caressed her shoulder as he kissed the nape of her neck.
“You do your name injustice, Patience. These things take time.”
“And time only proves your father right,” she said with self-pity. “Marrying me might have been the worst thing you could have ever done.”
“Do no’ ever say that again,” he bit out harshly as with a sharp tug he forced her onto her back so he could stare down at her. The anger on his face made her eyes widen. “You’re mine, Patience MacTavish. I did no’ marry you because I needed an heir. I married you because I could no’ live without you.”
The fierce declaration made tears form in her eyes as she stared up at him. His harsh expression softened as he shook his head then kissed her gently.
“You belong to me, Patience.” A possessive note rang through his whisper as his gaze roved its way across her bare body before returning to her face. “Do no’ ever forget that.”
Patience nodded and cupped his cheek with her hand. Julian turned his face into her palm and pressed his mouth hard against her skin.
“Show me I’m yours,” she whispered. Desire darkened Julian’s face as the back of his hand brushed its way across the base of her neck.
“With pleasure, mo leannan. With pleasure,” he uttered hoarsely before his mouth captured hers in a passionate kiss.
Chapter 2
* * *
The rattle of china pierced Patience’s sleep, and she sat up to see Julian seated at the breakfast table next to their bedroom window.
“Do you intend to spend the rest of the day in bed, Mrs. MacTavish?” he said without looking at her. The amusement in his voice made Patience toss a pillow at his head. For the past three days, he’d been the one insistent on spending most of the day in bed. Julian easily batted the stuffed headrest aside and turned his head to grin at her. She arched her eyebrows at him.