Kiltnapped [Kilt, Kilty, Kilted 1] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Cooper McKenzie

  But she really did have to pee. Starting with the arm around her upper chest and shoulders, she tried to peel her way out of his hold. But as soon as she moved away from the man, he pulled her back, this time pushing her flat on the bed.

  “Good morning, lass,” he said as he nuzzled her neck with his softly bearded chin.

  “Please let me up,” she said softly, trying unsuccessfully to lift his arm from her belly.

  “And why would I be doin’ tha’ now that yer finally awake? ’Twas beginnin’ ta wonder if ye’d ever wake up,” he asked as his arm shifted down her body so his hand cupped her hip.

  “I, um, have to…well, just let me up please,” she begged as the weight of his arm on her lower belly made her uncomfortable situation into one that needed tending to immediately.

  She looked at him, but his eyes were still closed as if he had fallen back to sleep. So, lifting his arm from her hip, she quickly slid out of bed and hurried toward the purple-lighted doorway. It was indeed a bathroom, containing the largest tub she had seen since being in Scotland in one corner and a toilet in another.

  After using the facilities then washing her hands and face and rinsing out her mouth, Paisley felt much better. Though there were no mirrors except a small one over the sink, she was very aware that she wore nothing but her birthday suit. Would she be able to sneak back under the bedcovers without waking Ewan?

  Then looking around the room again, she realized it should not matter. He had stolen her from her room, and the tour. Not only did she not know where she was, she had no idea how long she had been asleep. Would it be possible to catch up with the tour group and finish seeing Scotland? Or had too much time passed? Had they even realized she was missing?

  Suddenly her relaxed, well-rested feeling slipped away, replaced by indignant anger. Stepping back into the bedroom, she went over to the bed where Ewan was still lying relaxed and looking quite pleased with himself.

  “Welcome back ta the world o’ the living,” he said, shifting on the bed, lifting his arms, and stacking his hands under his head. He looked like a man too happy with his world. “Feeling better?”

  “Where are we? How did I get here? Where are my clothes? What day is it?” she demanded as she looked around the room for something to wear. But there were no clothes in sight, his or hers.

  “Shhh, lass, come back ta bed so’s we’ll talk abou’ it,” he said, patting the mattress where she had been lying just moments before.

  Planting her hands on her hips, Paisley glared at the big man. “Ewan MacGregor, I will not get in that bed until you give me some answers. Now talk.”

  She wanted to scream when he began to grin. “Yer quite the hellcat when ye wanta be, aren’t ye, lass?”

  Years of biting back her anger, of staying calm and nice and polite roared behind the walls she had locked them behind. The walls cracked and crumbled to a fine dust. With a cry worthy of any Highland warrior, she threw herself across the room, suddenly so far out of control that later she would not remember what exactly had happened.

  “I cannot believe you kiltnapped me when you knew I needed to be on that tour,” she screamed as she began pummeling Ewan’s chest and shoulders. “How am I supposed to write my next book now? How am I supposed to get my money back? Why did you do it?”

  All at once her fiery raged melted away. She began to cry as her psyche had a hard time distinguishing between anger and sadness. It was these times that often ended up sobbing when what she wanted to do was scream her fury.

  “Och, lass, dunna cry. I’ll make it a’right. But ye couldna continue on the tour. If ye’d continued on the tour ye would have likely died. Or worse,” Ewan said as he slowly sat up then eased her into his lap so she was leaning heavily against his chest, her tears running through the pelt of fur covering it.

  “Where are we?” she asked a few minutes later. Her tears continued to flow though her emotions seemed to be settling, at least for the moment.

  “We’re in my rooms at the MacGregor keep. About two hours’ drive from Inverness,” he said as he held her gently and dropped his head forward so his cheek rested on her head.

  Paisley sniffed and tried to calm herself, embarrassment at her emotional outburst replacing the anger. “How long have we been here?”

  “Two and a half days. Ye’ve slept the whole time, except when I woke ye and made ye eat and drink somethin’. As soon as ye finished, ye’d roll over and return ta yer dreamin’.”

  “I didn’t dream,” she admitted softly as she began to shiver in the coolness of the room. “At least, I don’t remember dreaming.”

  “Probably because ye were too worn out for such,” Ewan said as he pulled the covers up around her. “Being around that many people fer so long and in such a confined space was too much fer yer system. At least that’s what Fergus said when she saw ye. She said ye need proper trainin’ on dealin’ with yer gifts and protectin’ yerself before ye end up in such a state again.”

  “But the tour, my trip home, I have to go,” Paisley tried to argue, but was so comfortable there on the great soft bed with Ewan wrapped around her. “I’ve got to go back to work.”

  “Nay, lass. What ye need is ta accept that yer gifts are special and that Fergus can teach ye how ta use them. Yer no’ meant for workin’ in an office, though I do like the idea of ye writin’ those sexy books.”

  Paisley pulled her head back and looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “Oh, you do, do you? And I suppose you’ll be willing to help me do research as well?”

  Ewan answered her with a sexy-as-sin smile.

  That set her anger ablaze again. Jerking out of his arms, she pulled the blanket with her as she crawled once more out of the bed. The cool stone floor felt good on her feet as she glared at the man in the bed while trying to ignore the long, strong erection that seemed to follow her as she paced the room.

  “Do you know how many men I’ve gotten that offer from? Men hear what I do and suddenly they think I’m some kind of slut or something, willing to strip off and hop into bed with them. And married men are the worst.” That statement brought her head up, and she sent the man still in the bed a narrowed glare. “You aren’t married, are you?”

  That accusation sobered Ewan in a heartbeat. He rolled out of the great bed and strode to her, taking deep breaths as if to calm himself. “Of course I’m no’ wed. Do ye really think I would tumble ye and bring ye here ta me bed if I was?”

  He sounded so insulted that Paisley’s emotions took another radical turn.

  “I’m sorry, but don’t you see? I don’t know. I’ve had friends’ husbands offer to help me do research”—she made quotation marks with both hands—“and even single men don’t seem capable of looking beyond my writing to see the real me. The last guy I dated used me to try all the things his ex-wife refused to do with him when they were married. It hurt when I finally figured it out.”

  “Nae, lass, ye’ve nothin’ like that ta fear from me. I’m single, and while I would love ta help ye do research for yer books, it doesna matter if all ye wanta do is cuddle. As long as ye can find the happiness ye so richly deserve.”

  “Really?”

  Suddenly the emotional swings took one more, to intense arousal. Of course, standing there staring down a great-looking, well-built, naked man who appeared just as aroused as she was did not help.

  “Aye, lass. My goal from here on is ta see yer smile at least once or twice each day. Which means ye’ll need ta plan on stayin’ here and lettin’ Fergus teach ye about yer gifts. Do ye think ye can do that?”

  “I’ll have to call my boss back home. And the airline and change my reservation. And—”

  Before she could finish her thought, Ewan closed the distance between them. Sliding his hands under the blanket, he cupped his hands under her ass cheeks and lifted her. She sucked a breath and grabbed his shoulders, the blanket dropping to the floor.

  “Dunna worry, lass. I’ll see ’tis all taken care of, but I’m hoping ye’l
l ne’er wanta use that ticket home.” With that, Ewan kissed her, efficiently ending the discussion and sending Paisley’s mind spinning into another direction, intense arousal.

  She moaned around his tongue in her mouth when the fingers of one hand slid down the crevice of her ass, circled her dark star several times before moving on and finding her wet and weeping pussy. He dragged fingertips through the glazing and up to her clit where he circled and flicked the nub of flesh, driving Paisley higher and higher. Tracing back to her pussy, he dipped his fingers in, gathered more of her fluids, and repeated the action over and over until Paisley was moaning and panting and squirming just at the edge of orgasmic insanity.

  Then he shifted her up his body, fit the head of his cock at her opening before he lowered her again. They moaned in unison as her pussy completely enveloped him and squeezed his cock with rippling contractions.

  “Ewan,” she cried as she tightened her arms and legs around him and began to move as best she could, fucking herself. The position pressed her clit against the deep auburn fur at the base of his cock, which added yet another fiery layer to her arousal.

  “Let it go, lass. I’ve got ye,” he said as his palms held her cheeks and his fingers came together in the valley of her ass. He shifted his legs further apart before beginning to raise and lower her in time to the strong hip thrusts he could no longer control.

  Paisley lost track of everything except the pillar that pistoned in and out of her, driving her closer and closer to a peak she could never remember visiting before. And then she was there, catapulting over the edge and screaming as she convulsed through her orgasm. A millisecond later, she thought she heard Ewan roar as he joined her, but the blackness reached up and dragged her under before she could be sure.

  * * * *

  “Lass? Paisley? Are ye a’right?” Ewan asked as he staggered the short distance to the bed and sat down, while keeping his cock in the warmth depths of his woman.

  When she did not answer, he grew worried. Once they were settled and she was straddling his lap, his hands left the sweet lushness of her ass. One wrapped around her back while the other took hold of the back of her neck and pulled her head back so he could see her face. Her eyes were closed but the smile on her lips told him she had found her release before the darkness claimed her.

  With his own sigh of pleasure, he waited for the feeling to return to his lower limbs before adjusting them more comfortably on the bed. Then he dozed as well, though his mind began to formulate a plan on how to keep the beautiful woman of his dreams here by his side where she belonged.

  Chapter 7

  When Paisley woke next, all the myriad of hot, fiery, conflicting emotions she had flashed through earlier had dissipated. She was left feeling as emotionally fragile as dandelion fluff clinging to a stalk on a windy day, and though she hated to, she had to admit that Ewan might have a point.

  More than once in the past, she had had to take a sick day to sleep and recover from spending time with large groups of people. Sometimes even spending an hour with one of her few friends that always seemed to need something from her drained her to the point she would go home and take a nap. Until now, she had never put the two together.

  Now if she could just learn how to protect herself.

  Ewan had said she had gifts. Opening her eyes, she studied the ceiling and the four high posts that rose from the four corners of the bed as she wondered what those gifts she had never known about were.

  Her friends had told her for years that she was gifted in numerous aspects, but Paisley had never taken them seriously. Mostly because she never felt particularly special or talented or gifted. Usually all she felt was tired.

  Lifting her head, she looked around. She was still in the same room, but instead of Ewan being wrapped around her, she lay curled in a thick, warm down-filled comforter. Fighting her way out of the covers, she crawled from the bed. After answering nature’s call again, she looked around the rest of the room.

  There was a leather club chair and a wooden rocker by the fireplace with a small table between them. What looked to her like a television armoire sat on the wall opposite the foot of the bed. The floor was a smooth stone in a shade darker than the walls, with several area rugs covering it. Other than the door to the bathroom, there were three others, one next to the bathroom door which she found led to a closet. Stepping inside, she flipped a switch and blinked when a bright light flashed on. She went through his shirts and found a large gold-and-black rugby shirt that looked well worn and comfortable.

  Pulling on the shirt, she smoothed it down over her body, pleased to find that it fell to midthigh and covered all her bits and pieces. She rolled the sleeves up several times until her hands emerged. Wishing for a pair of panties or leggings, she returned to the bedroom to find she was no longer alone.

  “Hello?” she said as she stopped just outside the closet.

  Though she did not feel a threat, she was not taking any chances. If need be, she could step back into the closet and hide there until Ewan returned.

  Where was he anyway?

  Her greeting caused the woman sitting in a wheelchair before the fire with a long white braid that ended just a few inches from the floor to look over her shoulder before wheeling the chair around. That was when Paisley saw the cast on her right leg from toes to midthigh. The woman looked anywhere from a weathered midsixties to a well-preserved hundred and twenty. She wore a bright-pink sweatsuit that gave a glow to her wrinkled cheeks and brought out the pale blue in her eyes. The right pants’ leg had been split up the side to allow it to slide over the cast. That was when Paisley noted her toenails were painted a bright purple.

  “Ah, yer finally awake. An’ looking a good deal better than when Ewan carried ye through the hall.”

  “Um, thank you?” Paisley responded, though she wanted to ask the woman who the hell she was and what she was doing there in Ewan’s room.

  “No need ta thank me. “’Twasn’t a compliment. I’m Fergus MacGregor, the seer and healer fer the clan MacGregor,” the old woman said by way of introduction. “And yer Paisley Gill from America, come ta Scotland hopin’ ta find yer place in the world, and meet the man ye’ve dreamt of all these many years. The man who’s had a hold on yer heart from the first moment ye drew breath. Well I can tell ye true that ye’ve found them both here. Welcome ta the clan, lass.”

  Paisley’s eyes widened at the dead-on accuracy of the old woman’s words. “How do you know so much about me?”

  The woman’s eyes twinkled as she crossed her arms. “Did ye no’ jes’ hear me say I’m the clan seer? I’ve ken ye were the lass fer Ewan since the first dream he tol’ me about jes’ after ye were born. I jes’ ne’er expected it ta take ye so long ta arrive.”

  She wheeled herself close enough to take Paisley’s hand between her own, and Paisley immediately felt a connection with Fergus, just as she had with Ewan.

  “And now that yer finally here, we can begin. Well, as soon as Ewan brings yer baggage up from where’er he’s got it hidden.”

  Feeling more than a little out of her comfort zone Paisley decided just to roll with it. She certainly had not found anywhere she was comfortable in the States. Maybe Ewan and Fergus was right and she belonged here.

  Question was, would Fergus be able to help her understand herself and see in herself what it was everyone else saw in her?

  Before she could voice that question, the door beside the television armoire opened and Ewan walked in carrying a tray. A moment later the smell of something warm and meaty reached her nose, and a second after that her stomach growled, filling the room with its noise.

  “Oh, excuse me,” she said, raising both hands to cover her stomach.

  “Wheesht, lass, ‘tis about time ye felt hunger,” Fergus scolded. “Ye’ve no’ had but broth and juices since yer arrival. Have Ewan bring ye ta me rooms after ye eat and find something a little warmer ta wear. We’ll talk then abou’ what ye’ve been fightin’ all yer life.”
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  And with that Fergus wheeled herself to the hall door, which Ewan held open with one foot for her to roll through. Once she was gone, he closed the door before carrying the tray to the table by between the two chairs.

  “Sorry abou’ that. She was supposed ta wait until ye were up and about and felt up ta meetin’ her.”

  “I’m fine,” Paisley said automatically, as she did every time anyone questioned her about how she felt.

  Ewan gave a snort of derision but said nothing further though it was obvious he did not believe her. Instead, he settled her in the rocking chair before uncovering the contents of the tray.

  Paisley’s stomach rumbled as she looked at the plate filled with scrambled eggs, sausage links, boiled new potatoes, and grilled tomato halves. A second smaller plate held several scones, biscuits, and slices of bread. A teapot, two cups, and the ever-present milk and sugar rounded out the tray’s contents.

  “Wow,” she said as she reached for the napkin wrapped silverware. “I sure hope you’re going to help me eat all this.”

  Ewan smiled as he poured the tea. “I might be persuaded to eat a crumb or two. Dunna think ye have ta finish it all, jes’ eat what yer comfortable with.”

  Paisley was surprised that she was able to eat better than half the food on the tray before she admitted defeat. She encouraged Ewan to finish the rest, which he handily did. Then he topped off their teacups and she sat back with a contented sigh.

  Though she knew Fergus was waiting, Paisley felt in no hurry to go anywhere. She was quite happy right here, staring into the cold, empty fireplace and just being for a few minutes. Which was very unusual for her as she rarely took the time to just sit and do nothing. Even the always busy creative corner of mind had gone silent, giving her a break for once.

  Ewan did not speak as time slowly clicked by. He seemed content to sit here, though she was certain as the clan’s second-in-command he surely had things to see to. Finally, she took a deep breath and held it for a count of ten before releasing it in a rush. “Okay, I’m ready.”