Highland Charm: First Fantasies

by April Holthaus

  “For a wee bit. I plan to take some lads and go to Lamont and attempt to garner his agreement for my marriage to Isobell. We wish to wed soon. I would have his blessing. However, Alexander will remain here for several months. He plans to stay with Elspeth before he returns to Carrick Castle.”

  “Good. I trust you to handle Lamont. When I go to Glasrie, I can leave Laurie in Alexander’s care.”

  Patrick embraced his twin and managed a smile of relief. He hated when he and his brother were at odds.

  Shortly after his brother left, a gentle tap sounded at the door. He called out and Aine answered. He bid her enter. She stood in the threshold, hands on hips, glaring at him.

  What had he done to deserve her irritation?

  “Chief, ’tis not my place, yet I must bring this matter to you.” She coughed. “You have been overly rough with your lady-wife. She bleeds much. You must be gentle with a new bride.”

  Heat rose up his neck and into his cheeks for the second time this morning. This was too much. He stared at a stone above her head. “Dammit, woman. It was not all my lady-wife’s blood. I cut myself while slicing a piece of cheese and used the sheet to staunch the flow. My lady-wife bled as expected of a virgin. Nae more.” Saint Columba save him from the meddling woman.

  Aine grinned before she left.

  The old woman dared laugh at him. He’d actually blushed under her scrutiny. He growled as he sorted the papers on his worktable. He must be going soft.

  Shortly before noon, Patrick ascended the stairs to the upper passageway.

  He should stay away from Laurie’s bed and give her time for the tenderness from his abrupt possession to fade. Though he could hardly wait to bed her again, to be alone with her, somewhere away from the castle and its over-inquisitive people. He yearned to go somewhere away from the numerous demands on his time, far away from the multitude of people vying for his attention.

  Ahh! He changed direction mid-stride, headed for the kitchen and then collected his tail and his lady.

  “Where are we going?” Laurie asked an hour later when they stopped on the ridge above the moor to take in the view.

  “’Tis a surprise.”

  She rolled her eyes the way Elspeth often did. “Haven’t we had enough surprises to last awhile?”

  “This one you will like.” He was determined to make up for his callous treatment of her on the eve of their wedding.

  The sun slid toward the western horizon. They would need to quicken the pace to reach their destination before gloaming. They traversed a trail through the Fir-wood, riding deep into the forest to a place far from the interruptions of his station, and more importantly, far from the Sithichean Sluaigh, the mysterious faerie knoll where Laurie first appeared.

  Breaking through the trees, they scattered a small gathering of deer and walked the horses toward the hunting lodge nestled there.

  He signaled his guards, who discreetly spread out to keep watch.

  With a glance at Laurie, his heartbeat quickened. Aye, the hut would do nicely for a tryst.

  Laurie leaned forward in her saddle and eyed the thatched roofed stone hut. “What is this place?”

  “We often use it when we hunt in the area.” Patrick leapt to the ground.

  He grasped her by the waist, lifted her from the horse and slid her down the front of his body, over the hard ridge of his sex. Hers clenched in response.

  “Mmm,” she purred.

  “You are killing me.” He set her away. “Let us get settled first.”

  He held the door and she entered the one-room hut. Well-tended, though sparsely furnished, the bed in the corner drew her attention. The mattress had been dressed with the finest of silks and velvets and furs. Someone created a love nest for them.

  “’Tis small, I ken, but away from curious eyes. I will start a fire in the center pit, which will warm us nicely. We can easily tolerate the small amount of smoke. Dinnae you think?”

  “It’s perfect.”

  Laurie sat on a rough-hewn bench and admired her new husband while he moved around the quaint room. He secured his sword near the bed and placed their saddlebags on the floor in a corner. When he finished setting the room to rights, he stood before her.

  From the pouch at his waist appeared a cloth wrapped bundle tied with leather strips. He offered it to her. As she reached for it, he gazed into her eyes with a tenderness seldom seen by others. “I am verra sorry.” He caressed her cheek with gentle fingers. “Can you find it within your heart to forgive me?”

  She placed the package on the well-worn table and returned her gaze to Patrick. Regret clouded his eyes. “There isn’t anything to forgive.”

  “Aye, there is.”

  His eyes widened when she placed her index finger to his lips. “Hush, now. Let us enjoy this time together without the shadows of the past.”

  He kissed her finger. His eyes twinkled and a smile reshaped his soft lips, making him appear more handsome and less forbidding.

  On tiptoes, she took his cheeks between her hands and kissed his splendid lips. He groaned against her mouth, adjusted his position and enfolded her in his arms. He held her tight against his chest, strong emotions shimmering in the air around them.

  Patrick patted her backside and ended the kiss, releasing her from his embrace. He tugged on his shirt. “Warm in here.”

  She suppressed a smile and reached for the package on the table. After removing the tie, she opened the cloth wrapping. A shiver of delight teased her. He’d given her a present, a beautiful circular brooch of gold with intricate filigree and three lovely, sparkling sapphire stones. The gems were the same color and clarity as the large sapphire set in the hilt of his sword and the one in her betrothal ring.

  “The gemstones are the color of your eyes, sweetling. One stone for each of our bairns.” He winked.

  “We don’t have any...” She hesitated, clearing her throat. “Bairns?”

  “Elspeth foresees three. Two boys and a wee blue-eyed girl, sweet like you.” He gently wiped a teardrop from her cheek.

  “The brooch is beautiful. I’ll cherish it always.” She clutched the pin to her chest and smiled, though more tears threatened. “Thank you.”

  Patrick took the brooch from her and placed it on the table. “Come here.” He wrapped her in a tender embrace.

  The meeting of their lips began with a gentle exploration, tongues seeking and then dueling. The kisses heated to an intensity that burned. They fell onto the bed curled around each other like wrestling lion cubs unable to discern where one began and the other ended. They franticly worked to remove the other’s clothing. Fabric ripped here and tore there. Soon they were naked, skin-to-skin, feeling, touching, and discovering each other’s bodies, mindless of their surroundings.

  All their past petting made Patrick an expert at pleasuring her. He easily brought her to a fevered pitch, her body trembling beneath him with the intensity of her need. When he entered her, she was more than ready to receive him into her slick body. Their lovemaking, wild and frenzied, brought them to an explosive release.

  Sated, they cuddled in each other’s arms, enjoying the satisfying afterglow.

  “Three babies? Really?”

  “Aye.” Patrick grinned smugly.

  Laurie shivered.

  “You’re cold.” He rose from the bed and strode to the fire to add more peat, presenting his naked back to her.

  His body glistened in the firelight. Magnificent. His broad muscular back slimmed to a trim waist and a great butt. A firm, nicely rounded backside. The kind she wanted to reach out and squeeze. Her palms itched to touch him again.

  He swung around and caught her staring.

  Laurie drew in a deep breath. A smile that was purely male gave him a devilish appearance. He flexed his shoulders. Tightened his abs. Her stomach fluttered. A tingly sensation radiated throughout her whole body.

  She loved this man. She’d never wanted anything more than what she had now—Patrick. They belonged to
one another, completely and without reserve. She wanted to make love to him, again and again.

  She curved her lips into what she hoped was a captivating smile, a come-hither look. He shot her a wicked grin before joining her in the bed. This time their loving was slow and sensual. He used all his knowledge and experience to pleasure her.

  His lips teasingly skimmed, first one, and then the other of her sensitized, swollen nipples. The gentle caresses sent a tantalizing wave of heat through her, making her tremble. Raising his head slightly, he blew softly. The cool air tickled, the tender skin puckering in response. Taking one pink bud into his mouth, he suckled it into a taut, aching peak.

  Laurie squirmed beneath him, craving more of his sweet, seductive kisses. He accommodated. He slowly moved down her body, his lips searing a path along her belly, across a sensitive thigh to tease between her legs. He laved her flesh with his tongue. She savored every kiss, every touch.

  Her eyelids fluttered shut. He wrapped her in a sensual web he wove with artful skill.

  The final caress of his skillful tongue sent her over the edge. Purple lights flashed before her eyes as she shattered into a million pleasant pieces.

  When she came back to herself, she reached out to him. She was never going back to the twenty-first century. She was where she belonged—here, with this man.

  She knew in her heart, she’d love him forever. Forever and an eternity.

  Her home was with Patrick.

  Laurie’s taste was sweet on Patrick’s tongue. She guided him atop her.

  Her feathery touch thrilled him. The lightest pressure of her fingertips grazed the muscles on his back. Slowly she drew circles. Gooseflesh bubbled across his skin, sending throbbing sensations to his groin.

  He moaned. No longer capable of restraint, he positioned himself and slowly entered her, giving her muscles time to adjust and wrap tightly around his thick shaft. Milking him. His thrusts were slow and erotic. She undulated beneath him, nearing the precipice. With a bellow, he sent them both over the top. Together they journeyed to an extraordinary place of overwhelming fulfillment.

  It was much later before they had the energy to enjoy a repast of the fine food Cookie sent. Even the sharing of food hinted at sensual play.

  He’d never been this happy.

  With the bliss, a niggling worry tickled the back of his mind. He buried the feeling.

  But after spending several idyllic days in each other’s arms, the time came to return to the castle and to the realities of their new life as husband and wife, as laird and lady of the castle, and as Chief of Clan MacLachlan and his Lady-wife.

  As they negotiated the narrow trail through the Fir-wood, Patrick kept an alert eye to their surroundings. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He had an uncomfortable feeling, a distinct sensation someone watched. He hoped it was his imagination, but he doubted it. Even when they reached the relative security of the castle, he couldn’t shake the uneasy suspicion.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  “Let me out.” Bolted from the outside, the door wouldn’t budge. Seething with resentment, Laurie slammed her fists against the hard barrier. “Dammit. Let me out.”

  She slid down the wood to her knees. “Sometimes, Patrick MacLachlan, you are not a nice man,” she whispered, her forehead pressed against the rough oak.

  The clamor of activity coming from the courtyard below gave her the energy to rise to her feet. Her chest tight, she ran to the window and flung open the shutters. Several men readied themselves for travel. Patrick joined them, and she glared at his back as the group strode through the gate and made their way to the water’s edge.

  As she feared, Patrick really planned to leave her behind.

  * * *

  The men hunched in silence, pulling their plaides tight against early winter winds. The only sound the gentle lapping of oars on water. Patrick sat on a bench at the aft of the boat, his jaw tight. His last moments with Laurie weighed heavily on his mind.

  Earlier in the day, Jamie rushed into his private chamber with the news Maclay had been seen near the Fir-wood. Patrick ordered his men to prepare, and after the screaming argument with his wife, he and his lads left the castle.

  She’d been enraged, angry he planned to leave her behind. His anger fed on hers. The argument that ensued became vicious. They said things neither truly meant. The inhabitants of the castle had sadly gotten an earful. No matter how much Laurie argued though, he ultimately refused to allow her to accompany him. A raid was no place for a woman. Too much risk.

  They’d been married several weeks. With time, she’d learn to trust his decisions. He shot his stare at Jamie. “How many ride with Maclay? How many on foot?”

  “Ten in total, all on horseback.” Jamie sat forward on his bench.

  Patrick rubbed his whiskered jaw and scrutinized the other lads. He selected fewer than his usual tail. Only four well-seasoned fighters joined him. On this raid, stealth would be more important than force. In order to flush out Maclay, the warriors would need to blend into the woods and catch him unawares.

  The boat beached on the mainland shore where a pair of young lads waited with saddled horses. The warriors swiftly mounted, guiding their steeds northeast along the shore of Loch Fyne.

  Refusing to allow himself the weakness of looking back to see if Laurie watched from their bedchamber window, Patrick galloped away. Hardening his heart, he thought only of the confrontation he’d soon face.

  The time had come for Maclay to pay for his sins.

  * * *

  Laurie lunged onto the bed and slammed her fists into a pillow, sending feathers flying. After the fit of temper, she swung her legs over the side and sat on the edge of the bed.

  Nausea gurgled in her stomach. With a hand pressed to her belly, she rushed across the room to the basin and vomited. Shit, she’d made herself sick.

  She grasped a cloth, wet it, and held it to her mouth. She slid down to her knees and leaned back on her heels. Shivers replaced the queasy flush.

  With winter spreading its frosty blanket over the land, the weather turned blustery. Brisk raw winds raced along the loch, slamming against the castle’s old gray stones, howling through the battlements. The castle held a constant chill, the chambers breezy.

  The only time she felt warm was at night when she lay in bed with Patrick. Sleeping with him was like cuddling with a large red-hot coal. He produced more than enough heat to keep them both warm through the bitter nights.

  A tear escaped, and she brushed it away with the back of her hand. She wouldn’t cry. She pushed up from the floor and sat in a chair near the hearth, wrapping one of Patrick’s plaids around her shoulders for added warmth. The fabric still held his pine forest scent.

  Her heart clenched. She couldn’t really blame Patrick for refusing to allow her to join in the hunt for Maclay. It wasn’t as if she could protect him. Now, when she thought about it. He was right. Having to worry about her safety would put him at risk.

  Laurie jumped when a cup fell from the mantle to crash on the stone floor. “What the…” She picked up a broken piece and a chill slid down her spine.

  “Munn?” Where was the jealous little man? He’d been at the root of most of her recent troubles.

  Although Caitrina had gotten her into the mess in the beginning, loving Patrick as she did, Laurie no longer faulted Caitrina for her trickery. If Caitrina hadn’t pushed her through the time-gate, Laurie would never have joined with her true soul mate. She never would have learned the true meaning of belonging.

  She believed the old woman at the caves had been Caitrina in some sort of magical disguise. Caitrina hadn’t made an appearance since, and Laurie wondered why.

  Munn, on the other hand, had been the one who gave her the cursed goblet of wine to drink at the wedding banquet. Token of friendship? Surely not. She only drank one goblet, yet she’d been incredibly drunk. Something must have been in the oh-too-sweet wine, something that confused her, caused her to believe Arch
ibald was Patrick.

  It almost cost her...her love.

  She should’ve realized sooner Munn worked against her. When she thought of the many odd occurrences, she should have had cause to question his loyalty to his chief. Whenever Patrick took her into his arms, there had been something not quite right. Each time, something unnatural occurred, stopped their loving.

  The wet cloth that landed on Patrick’s back while they kissed. The horn in the tower that mysteriously sounded on its own. And the evening in Patrick’s study when Munn appeared out of thin air, ranting and raving about doom and gloom, blaming every imaginable misfortune on her.

  The only explanation for the insanity was Munn. He was a menace.

  Spiraling into another fine rage, she leapt from the chair and marched to the door. She tugged, never expecting to find it unlocked, but this time, the door opened. Hurrying along the passageway, she passed two guardsmen deep in discussion. Although they glanced up and nodded when she passed, they didn’t bother to block her way. Confident no one else would attempt to stop her, she quickly made her way down the circular stair, across the courtyard, and through the castle gate. She ran along the path to the garden, blind to everything save her destination.

  She found Elspeth sitting in the midst of the frost-dead plants with Alexander.

  “Where is that miserable brownie?” Laurie asked. “How do you call a brownie to you?”

  Elspeth and Alexander, as one, flipped wide eyes up from the book they read.

  “You dinnae,” Elspeth said after a moment. “They appear only when they wish.”

  Laurie glared at the horizon, raised her arm and made a fist. “Damn you, little man. I’ll find a way to keep Patrick close to my heart. You’ll not force us apart.”

  Queasiness once again rumbled in Laurie’s stomach. Her vision blurred. She clutched her belly and swayed. Was this magic too? Had Munn put a hex on her?