Wildly Romantic: A Multi-Genre Collection

by Lana Williams

  She realized it was a soft, cuddly kitten, and she suddenly felt foolish. So she reached forward to pet it, but it pulled back the corners of its mouth and hissed at her again. She could see its long whiskers and elongated sharp, pointy teeth. Its eyes suddenly looked sinister and it flicked its ringed tail in the air. Its claws were revealed, and it swiped a paw toward her. She pulled back her hand quickly.

  “I would hardly call that thing a kitten, as it seems a little . . . wild,” she said. “And it scratched me.” She rubbed her hand as she spoke. “It probably would have bitten my hand off if I hadn’t pulled away.”

  “Ye have gloves on,” he reminded her again. “And this little thing would ne’er hurt anyone, even though she is a wildcat I found in the hills. Probably she was born too late in the year and was abandoned by her mathair.”

  To her surprise, he held it up and ran his cheek against it, then plopped it on his shoulder. He looked sideways as he spoke to it in soft tones, running his hand over its tail that flicked lazily between his fingers.

  “Dagger, what is Tawpie doin’ here?” asked Aidan, coming to join them.

  “I dinna ken,” he said. “I had no idea she was even in the travel bag. She likes te hide and also sleep all day, so I canna say I am surprised.”

  “She must o’ climbed inside when I saddled up the horses,” said Ian. “I saw her in the stables sleeping in a pile o’ hay earlier. The travel bag was next te her. I wondered where she’d disappeared to.”

  “Ye didna happen te bring food?” asked Onyx.

  “I dinna ken we were goin’ on a journey,” Ian replied. “I only threw a coverlet in there since it was still there from our little roll in the hay with the triplets. Actually, if I’d kent we were goin’ on a trip, I would o’ brought along the triplets jest fer fun.”

  “And they were fun, indeed, Dagger,” said Aidan, cocking a smile. “Ye missed the best present we e’er gave ye fer yer birthday.”

  “You’re calling bedding a whore a present?” asked Lovelle, pulling her cloak around her as she felt her teeth starting to chatter from the cold.

  “’Tis me birthday,” was all Onyx said. Then he looked over to his friends. “Ian, start a fire, and Aidan, hunt us somethin’ te eat.”

  “A fire?” asked Ian. “What fer? ’Tis no’ thet cold.”

  Onyx looked over to Lovelle and realized her cheeks were bright red as well as her nose. And though she tried not to show it, her teeth were chattering. While she was his enemy and he hated her for what she’d done to his mother, she was also a prisoner now. If she died, his mother would be killed in return.

  “I agree,” he said, knowing that the three of them had even slept right in the snow at times without making a fire. They were Highlanders. They were used to the cold. But she was a frail Englishwoman who had probably never slept on the cold ground a day in her life. “Our . . . guest here looks like she could use it.”

  “Guest?” she said, bravely forcing a laugh. “You mean prisoner, don’t you?”

  “Thet’s right, Onyx, ye did kidnap her, so thet makes her a prisoner,” Aidan agreed.

  “Jest go find a coinean or somethin’,” he ordered, telling him to go hunt rabbit.

  “I’m no’ hungry, are ye, Ian?” asked Aidan.

  “Nay,” answered Ian. “We all had plenty o’ haggis and blackbun at the pub.” He rubbed his belly. “I dinna think I’ll be able te eat another bite fer days.”

  “Ferget it, I’ll do it meself,” said Onyx, putting the cat on the ground. He pulled his dagger from his waistbelt and headed away to hunt. “Ye two watch o’er our prisoner, as ye call her.”

  Onyx headed away quickly, irritated by the fact his friends were giving him a hard time, and even more frustrated that they’d basked in the pleasures of the randy Trotter triplets, but he was still hot and bothered. After being pushed up against the good-looking Englishwoman all night, feeling her body jolting against his with every step of the horse, it only made him hard beneath his plaid.

  This was not the way he’d planned on spending his birthday and celebrating the new year. To top things off, his mother had not been honest with him. He wasn’t sure now what she’d done. She could have killed off dozens of men through the years and he wouldn’t have even known it. He knew about her little pilfering problem, but of this, he’d had no idea.

  “Damn Lady Love,” he spat, seeing a rabbit and diving upon it with his dagger in his hand. The blasted woman had not only ruined his birthday, but now probably ruined his life as well.

  But though she was his enemy and he hated her at this moment, he still couldn’t stop thinking how her hands felt on his shoulders or how her cheek felt against his bare chest. He didn’t want to be thinking this way about her.

  He had to get that book and return the girl as soon as possible. Because if he spent much longer near her, he was going to want to do something that he knew he would someday regret.

  * * *

  Lovelle sat close to the fire, just watching Onyx’s two friends sitting on the opposite side and staring at her. She felt very uncomfortable, especially since they weren’t saying a word.

  “So – how do you two know Onyx?” she asked.

  “We’re all MacKeefes,” said Ian.

  “Oh,” she said. “So, are the three of you brothers or cousins?”

  They looked at each other and made faces that made her realize they thought she was daft.

  “We’re no’ related,” said Aidan. “We’re jest friends. We grew up together.”

  “So, you don’t have the same parents or anything?”

  “Nay,” laughed Ian. “Why would ye say thet?”

  “Because you said you were all MacKeefes.”

  “We’re o’ the same ilk, so we all take the chieftain’s name as well as wear his colors,” said Ian.

  “The chieftain – you mean that big blond man in the pub with the braid on the side of his head?”

  “Aye. Thet’s our chieftain, Storm MacKeefe,” said Aidan. “Ye really dinna ken anythin’ aboot the Scots do ye?”

  “I’m sorry, but I was . . . I never traveled much . . . before now.”

  They didn’t say anything, and she wasn’t going to give them any more information. She found herself wishing Onyx would return, and that thought disturbed her as well. Onyx was actually scarier than the two of these put together, yet for some reason she felt safer around him.

  His cat crawled up onto her lap and curled up in a ball and closed its eyes.

  “Oh!” she said, surprised, pulling back a bit. She didn’t like animals, and cats were at the top of her list. Especially the kind that were wild, and predators of nature and not meant to be pets, like the one that just claimed her lap.

  “The cat likes ye,” Ian pointed out.

  “Aye, and Dagger’s cat hates e’eryone but him,” added Aidan.

  “Really?” she asked, wanting the thing off her lap but not wanting to touch it. Then Onyx appeared, coming out of the darkness with two rabbits in his hand. He held them by their hind legs, and his bloody dagger dangled from his fingers.

  “Make yerself useful and skin and gut these,” he said, throwing them down in front of her in the dirt. The cat jumped off her lap and bit one around the neck and started carrying it away, though the rabbit was twice its size.

  “Put it down, Tawpie, I dinna mean ye,” said Onyx, “I meant her.” He pointed at her, and to her horror, she realized he wanted her to do it. The cat dropped the rabbit and slinked away with its shoulders hunched and its head down as if it were looking for prey.

  Lovelle had often helped in the castle’s kitchen, but she’d always let the servants do the gutting and skinning, or plucking the feathers off a goose.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked, obviously testing her. “Ye want te eat, but yet ye willna hunt, gut, or cook the meal?”

  “I’ll do it,” said Aidan, reaching over for the rabbits.

  “Nay!” He walked forward and pushed the dead animal
s closer to her with his foot. “She’ll do it if she wants te eat.”

  Lovelle closed her eyes and released a deep breath. She was starving, but she couldn’t do what this man was asking.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Onyx. “Too good for a chore like this?”

  “Dagger, let me,” said Ian, but Onyx just shook his head. He leaned forward and stabbed his dagger into the ground just next to her foot, making her flinch.

  “Jumpy tonight, arena ye?” he asked. “Do tell me ye’ve gutted a rabbit afore, me lady?”

  “Of course,” she lied, reaching out for one of the rabbits, then bringing her hand back quickly, noticing the horrid look on its face and wide, gaping mouth . . . and the blood.

  He hunkered down next to her, his mouth close to her ear. “Like I said, ye are a bad liar. Now, mayhap ye jest need a little help.”

  Onyx only meant to scare the lass so she wouldn’t give him trouble or try to escape during the night, but when he pressed up behind her and took her hands in his, and guided one to the rabbit and the other to his dagger, he felt as if she were scaring him instead. What was it with this Sassenach that had him excited every time he got near her? Probably the fact that most lassies were repelled by him, but this one showed no fear.

  “All ye need te do is start by cuttin’ off the rabbit’s feet.” He guided the dagger toward the dead rabbit’s feet, and noticed her eyes closing, and that she was holding her breath. The scent of rosewater and soap filled his senses, and the softness of her long, unbound hair rubbed up against his face.

  She was so fresh and clean. So alluring. He knew he probably smelled like woodsmoke and the earth, and he felt as if he had no right to be holding her so close and touching her like this.

  A wave of desire shot through him, and he wondered how it would feel to kiss her right now. Her lips were full and lush and her cheeks rosy. Her skin was so smooth and unblemished. And from his position hunkered down behind her, he could see the tops of her breasts. Her chest moved in and out as she breathed heavily, probably from anticipation of having to skin a rabbit – something he was sure she’d never done in her life.

  The desire he felt for her was driving him out of his mind. He’d only meant to show her how to prepare their food for dinner, but instead of focusing on their meal, he was focused on another hunger instead. And though it would be so easy to push her down on the ground, spread her legs apart and drive into her soft, sweet, tight wetness right now, he knew he couldn’t do it. His mother’s life depended upon what happened right now between them. He couldn’t risk the fact Lady Love would tell her men he’d defiled her when they returned. One wrong move and it could seal his mother’s fate forever.

  He dropped the rabbit and the dagger and backed away quickly.

  “Aidan, Ian, ye do it,” he said, turning away so they didn’t notice the bulge beneath his plaid.

  “Aye, ye look like ye’re in need o’ a woman, no’ a meal,” said Aidan.

  “Still feeling thet pent up frustration from no’ beddin’ yer share of the trio, I see,” added Ian.

  Too late. They knew what he was feeling, and were probably having similar feelings being around such a bonnie lassie as well. Ian and Aidan laughed heartily, and picked up the rabbits to do as instructed.

  “I could show ye how te do this, me lady,” said Ian, flashing Lovelle his smile that always drove the lassies mad. “After all, Dagger may be . . . busy fer awhile,” he said with a smirk.

  “Leave her alone,” called out Onyx, walking toward the stream to take a quick dip in the water and cool the fires of desire threatening to consume him.

  Lovelle stood up and brushed off her skirts, trying to get away from Onyx’s friends who were rowdy and wild, and following her wherever she went. She didn’t know where Onyx disappeared to, but she felt as if she needed to find him. She wasn’t sure if she was safe with these two fools. Though Onyx wasn’t much better, at least he had the sense to walk away instead of trying to bed her.

  She knew what he was feeling right now, because she had felt it too. It didn’t make sense that she’d have desire for a rugged Scot – her enemy, but when he’d put his arms around her, she had all she could do to keep from resting her head against his strong chest.

  She’d felt sickened by the fact he’d wanted her to clean the rabbits, but when he’d encircled his arms around her to instruct her, she’d forgotten her ill feelings, and felt something else instead. His mouth had been so close to her that all she had to do was turn her head and he could have kissed her. She’d known he’d been looking down her cleavage, and while her first instinct was to push him away, she instead let him have his look.

  It felt good to be noticed by a man. Hugh had never even known she existed unless he wanted her in his bed. There was no foreplay, no sweet talk. No little words of endearment like ‘bonnie cailin’ or ‘Lady Love.’ Her late husband had only called her Baroness, and half the time she wondered if he had forgotten her real name.

  He was old, and the coupling had always ended before it had begun for her. She’d never even had the chance to get excited, as he was always finished and fast asleep so quickly. And then when her baby, Charles, came along, they’d stopped coupling altogether. She knew it was because Hugh had found himself a mistress, and she’d just looked the other way and pretended not to care.

  But that was all over now. She didn’t need a husband, nor did she want one. She just wanted to find the book and use the charms written inside to cure her mother, and hopefully use them on herself to cure her color blindness as well.

  She pretended to be petting the cat that was rubbing up against her leg, until Ian and Aidan’s attention was distracted by something they heard in the trees.

  “I bet it’s a wildcat stalkin’ us,” said Aidan. “Mayhap one of Tawpie’s relatives.”

  “Nay, more like a crow or an owl,” Ian protested.

  “Ye’re wrong, and I’ll prove it.” Aidan picked up a rock and threw it into the trees at whatever animal they heard. Something fell with a thump, and when they went to investigate, she decided to sneak away.

  She pulled a candle from the pouch she carried at her side and lit it in the cooking fire. Then she pulled her hood up to cover her head and quickly took off into the thicket toward the brook she’d heard earlier.

  She stopped when she reached the water, putting her candle between some rocks and sitting down, pulling a parchment out of her pouch next. Her fingers fumbled with the cord that tied it, and she felt her hand shaking as she pulled away the binding and unrolled it, holding it up near the fire to read.

  She had taken this from her mother’s private storage chest when she knew she wasn’t looking. She’d seen her mother looking at it one night and chanting some odd words she couldn’t decipher. Her mother had been spouting off that she was a witch lately, but Lovelle didn’t know if it was true or just her addled mind making her say it. But she did concoct herbal potions a lot lately, drinking them down saying it helped her. Lovelle didn’t believe it, as it seemed to her the potions only made her mother worse.

  She was just about to look at the parchment when she heard a loud splash in the water. It startled her, and she jammed the parchment back into her pouch and picked up the candle, deciding she didn’t want to be alone in the wilderness of the Highlands, even if she was among fools.

  Then she heard something else. A man’s voice coming from the brook.

  “Och, this is colder than a witch’s teat,” shouted the man, who she now knew was none other than Onyx. She headed to the water’s edge, meaning to talk to him, but stopped when she saw him step out from the water stark naked.

  “Oh!” she cried, her eyes fastened to his body, not able to look away. He strode forward toward her, not caring he wore nothing but what God gave him, and stood before her in the firelight of the candle she held in her hand.

  The flames danced in shadows on his chest, and her eyes drank in his manly beauty of corded sinew and muscles beneath his skin. H
er eyes dropped downward curiously, past the dark arrow of crisp hair and to his nether regions that were very well endowed. His legs were strong and sturdy, and he stood barefoot in the thin layer of snow, with water dripping down his body as if he didn’t care.

  “Like what ye see, lassie?”

  Her attention shot upward to his eyes. Though her sense of color was almost gone at night, she did not miss the intensity of his stare.

  “Well?” he asked, the crisp air making his breath visible in the night as he spoke. She was wrapped in not only her velvet gown but also a hooded, wool, fur-lined cloak as well, and still she shivered beneath it. Yet this madman stood stark naked in the cold of the night with droplets of water nearly turning to ice as they ran down his chest, and still he seemed as if he didn’t notice it at all.

  “I didn’t know you were here,” she said, looking away quickly.

  “Didna ye?” he asked with a chuckle, and she heard the rustling of his clothes as he donned them. “Then why were ye out here in the thicket in the dark by yerself?” he asked.

  “No reason,” she said, then add, “I just needed to use a bush, that’s all.”

  “Way down here by the water?” he asked. “I’d think ye’d o’ stayed closer te the fire. And tell me, why do ye have a candle?” He walked up to her, tying his plaid around him in the final knots as he spoke.

  “I . . . I . . . just happened to have one and thought I’d use it.” She knew how addled that sounded, but she was having trouble thinking after just seeing Onyx naked. It had been a long time since she’d seen a naked man who was in such wonderful proportions. Actually, this was the first time. This man was young and fit, and a feast for any woman’s eyes. She’d been married so young that she’d never even seen a naked man besides her husband. And that had been no feast for anyone’s eyes.

  “Ye were tryin’ te escape, werena ye?” he asked, surprising her by his question. While the thought had crossed her mind once or twice, she knew she’d never survive out in the rugged Highlands by herself, nor would she ever find her mother’s book without his help.