“He listened to women's gossip.”
That was an explanation? Taking the high road, Jenny tilted her gaze to Iaen, before centering it on Laird Wulfson. “No harm done to me.”
“Laird Wulfson will join us at table,” Iaen said, a warning hanging in his simple sentence.
“Welcome,” she responded, following Iaen's lead. “I'll go get you a snack.” She didn't wait to be excused. Instead, she hurried away. What the hell was going on? Rushing into the kitchen, Jenny motioned for Elspeth to join her. “Laird Wulfson is here.”
“Aye, milady.”
“I don't know what to do.”
“Milady, let's fix a trencher of bread and cheese.”
“Did you know Iaen—I mean, milord—was going to meet him?”
“Nay. Milord is trying to keep the peace with his cousin. 'Tis a heavy task for him. The Wulfson is forever searching for greener pastures. With our shared border, 'twould make sense that he attacked Kincaid land. Milord worries for you, milady. Sending an arrow at you is an insult.”
She'd learned enough about the Highland mentality to know an insult was a quick path to war. He'd sent her home for her own safety. The thought came out of nowhere and hit her like a ten-ton anvil. “And to think, I was mad at him.” How could I have been so stupid?
“There, there, milady.”
“Wait.” Jenny held out her hand. “What did Laird Wulfson mean by 'listening to women's gossip'?”
Elspeth had the good graces to blush. “Lila.”
“You mean, the guy who shot at me thought I was Lila?” Warmth of a masculine persuasion encroached on Jenny. “Uh-oh.”
“Aye, wife. Would you care to accompany me to our chamber where you may speak your mind?”
“Sorry, I was trying to understand.” Jenny turned and hugged him tight.
“There is only one thing you need to ken. I will protect that which I care for.”
“You care about me?”
“Milady, I do not wish to repeat myself.”
“I care about you, too.”
“That, Jenny, is the right answer.”
***
The Border, Spring 1112
Laughter shouted across the meadow disturbing a nest of quail.
“I'll never catch our supper if you keep on,” Iaen chastised her.
“I can't help it. This is the best day of my life,” Jenny said. Yes, he was trying to teach her how to hunt. They both knew it was hopeless. She didn't have it in her to kill, even if she was starving.
“Aye, the morn is fine, and the view is lovely.” Iaen turned his gaze to her face. “Are you glad to be free of the Keep at last?”
She didn't mind spending endless hours at home, but she knew he did. Iaen was one of those guys who needed to ride across the land when the mood struck him. The fact he'd spent most of the winter with her showed her he was trying to make their marriage work. “I was thinking.”
“Should I be afraid?” he teased her.
“No. I was thinking I'd like a church wedding. You know something tangible to seal my place in the Clan.”
“Milady, the Clan adores you as do I.”
Her heart beat wildly in her chest. Reclining back on the sweet grass, she watched him follow her down. The emotion grew until it beamed in her smile. “I love you.”
She played with his hair as he bent his head to give her a soul-searing kiss.
“I love you, milady.”
“Enough to die an old man in our bed?” She thought aloud. It was the only part of his personal make-up they hadn’t resolved. The memory of him telling her he’d rather die in battle was never far from her mind, especially when he had to be away from the Keep. It was like living inside a pressure cooker until he strode back through the Great Doors.
“Jenny,” he growled a warning. “We’ve been over this afore. How I die isnae in your hands.”
“But you’d prefer it to be sooner rather than later.”
“I prefer not to harp on my demise.”
“Promise me, you’ll always come home to me.” She knew she was being silly but couldn’t help herself. All her worries were growing in direct proportion to her love for him.
“Jenny, I will forever be your Highlander. I will love you until I die and from beyond the grave. Whether I am taken from this world on the morrow, or I live to see my twilight years, there will always be us.” A sigh broke from his lips to wash across her face. “This isnae about me, lass.”
“I know it isn’t.” It was the terror of waking up one morning alone, knowing she couldn’t come to him when she needed him, having him love her when her mood dipped so low she couldn’t scrape her emotions off the stone floor of their bedroom. Any future without him terrified her. Leaning up, she laid a kiss to his bewhiskered cheek. “Just promise you won’t die anytime soon.”
“You wound me, milady. Do you think I cannae protect myself?”
She would have thought he was being serious if he hadn’t flashed a smile. How many times had he told her to live for the happy moments and let the sad ones go? Too many to count. “Okay, I’m being a nitwit.”
“Aye.”
Reclining, her fingers twined in his hair. She giggled when he kissed her shoulder blade. “What about the crofters? Won’t they wonder what we’re doing?”
“Aye.”
“Is that all you can say?” Mortified when he began undoing the laces of her gown, she tried to push his hands away. Like that ever works. “Anybody could walk up on us.” She twisted her head to the side, inspecting the area for a clansman. True, the grass was high enough to protect her modesty, but for pity’s sake, anybody could stumble over them.
He chuckled. “Methinks milady needs a distraction.”
“Iaen stop.” Her laughter rang over the meadow when he tickled her. Another nest of quail went dashing for the heavens. “At this rate we’ll never catch supper.”
“We’ll?”
“Okay, you will never catch supper.”
“I donnae need to. Elspeth packed enough food to last us two days.”
“Then why did you bring me out here?” Fighting him was useless. It also served no purpose. He’d already gotten her gown open and was fondling her breasts. Her feminine folds turned slick as he wove his passionate spell over her.
“To start a new tradition, one our sons can repeat when they marry spitfire sable-haired lasses.”
She knew he was teasing. Or at least she hoped he was. “You ordered all the crofters to stay away from the meadow, didn’t you?” she asked, her body temperature climbing with each caress he gave her. The feel of his hand skimming up her leg shredded the last of her resistance.
“Of course.”
“Did you tell them why?” Gasping, she squirmed to get closer to him when his fingers brushed over her core.
“Jenny, cease your idle prattle and live for this moment.”
She cried surrender when he drove his finger into her, and then added another one. He pumped her until she was mindless. Her orgasm built to a crescendo.
“Never forget this, my lady. I love you.”
“I love you.” Desperate for her release, she clutched his cock through his chauces.
“I will always come home to you.”
His thumb brushed her clit. Once. Twice. She panted out her vow. “And, I’ll always be waiting for you.”
~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~
In Belladonna’s formative years, her mother told her, “an imagination is a terrible thing to waste.” That’s what happens when your mother is also an author. In adulthood, life took her in a different direction. She became a professional portrait photographer.
Her mother never gave up on her imaginative daughter and finally convinced her to try to write a story. Drawing inspiration from the candid moments that occur in her daytime job, she believes every human being has a story to tell. She writes paranormal, multi-cultural contemporary romance with emphasis on real life cultural divides, historical, fanta-historical and might
even move into the genre of science fiction. First, she’ll have to photograph a real live alien.
When not working on her next story she’s out with friends or kills time with her family, but her camera is never far from her side and the next story never far from her thoughts.
http://www.belladonnabordeaux.com
Table of Contents
Title page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Table of Contents
Title page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
The Highlander's Time Page 10