by Caro LaFever
Cam groaned, a deep, low sound of lust and loss. “Jenny.”
She straightened above him, her focus on the condom rolling over his straining erection. The sparks from the fire turned her hair into a blonde halo and traced a line of gold along her profile. She glanced at him, her misty eyes gleaming.
With love.
Fuck. He knew it. He’d known what would come of this. He’d never been stupid about people and what would come of his actions.
“I’m taking you now,” she stated, her hand sliding to his base.
He groaned again as her body slowly eased down onto his. Wet, hot, tight. Even through the condom, he felt her take him. A desperate need to rip that one fine layer away, so there would be no barriers between them, made him moan in frustrated desire.
“Say something, Cameron.” She looked at him, a puzzled frown on her face. “It’s not like you not to talk.”
A rough laugh escaped him. “How can a man talk when he’s being taken by a fair lady?”
A smile replaced her frown. “I am taking you, aren’t I?”
“Yes. Definitely yes.” His hands gripped her hips and pushed her down until he was inside her to the hilt. “God. Ye feel good.”
“You, too.” She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. The skin of her neck glowed like luminous marble. Her breasts bobbed as she began to move, her small, tender nipples puckered with lust for him.
Cam closed his eyes, too. He couldn’t take all of her in.
But his hands didn’t know that, and neither did his cock. They both took greedily. His hands clamped onto her fair skin, so tight he’d bet there’d be bruises tomorrow. His cock strained inside her, pummeling into her warm, welcoming core.
A sheen of sweat broke out over his body as the lust swam through him. He opened his eyes again because he couldn’t help himself. He needed to stare at her beauty, making pictures in his mind so he’d always have her near in one way. She stared back, her mouth slightly open in her pleasure, her lips wet with his need. Her soft hands glided across his chest, plucking at his nipples, grazing through the hair on his belly, turning him feverish with passion.
All his regrets and old dreams drifted out of his head to be replaced by an agonizing need to plant himself in her.
“Cameron, yes,” she hissed her pleasure and her hands came down on him with a slap. “Keep going.”
“I can’t stop,” he admitted, another moan erupting as his hips and hers picked up the pace.
The fire he’d lit minutes ago in the hearth seemed to slide right into his heart. It blazed past his old scars and weary, restless soul and flamed a dark, passionate pain inside, making him gasp.
“Cam,” she hummed above him. “Come inside me.”
He did. He came all the way inside her, past the pain and the pretense of his life. Shaking with need, he roared past his present life and jumped into the vast blackness he’d hid from for most of his life.
He cried out, in fear and hopeless wonder. “Jenny.”
“Yes.” Her body tightened around him, pulling more and more from him. More than he’d ever thought he had. She cried out too, an ardent response that echoed in his soul.
“Jenny.” His body relaxed, even though the ache inside grew.
Murmuring something unintelligible, she slumped on him, her precious body lush with love and comfort.
He couldn’t be comforted.
He didn’t deserve her. Or her comfort. And especially not her love.
He was not her hero.
“What is Da doing here?” Robbie’s voice woke her, his tone disgruntled.
Jen rolled over in her bed and congratulated herself for having the foresight to slip on her flannel nightgown before joining her teasing lover in bed. “Robbie.”
“I’m asking ye. What’s he—”
“Shh.” She glanced across to see Cam still asleep. “Let’s go and make some tea and we can cuddle on the armchair.”
“But I want to know—”
“Shh.” She crept out of the bed, pulling the covers over one naked male shoulder before facing her accuser. “Come on. You can help me make some tea.”
Robbie scowled at her, not willing to be diverted. “I want to know—”
“Perhaps some biscuits, too.”
His two-toned eyes lit and the frown fell off his face at the offer of a treat. “All right, I guess.”
He clambered onto the cozy armchair as she laid out the teacups and platter of sweets, and stirred the latent fire to life. She hadn’t let the teapot whistle, allowing Cam to slumber in oblivion.
“Now ye can tell me.” He munched on his treat, a look of satisfaction mixed with puzzlement on his face. “Why’s he here?”
She went to seat herself in the opposite chair, trying to gain herself more time to answer.
“No.”
Jen stared at him.
“I want ye to sit with me here.” He stared back. “Ye said you’d give me a cuddle.”
“All right.” The frank need in his voice made her heart tremble with an awful love. She tiptoed to the armchair and curled herself around the warm, little knot of a boy. “There. Satisfied?”
Slurping on his cream-filled tea, he shot her another scowl. “Not until ye tell me why Da’s in your bed.”
This wasn’t her child and she had no idea how much he knew about what went on between a woman and a man. Robbie was too intelligent, though, not to pick up on any tall tales she’d attempt. The truth was always better than trying to paper over something. It was one of the few sayings she remembered her mother telling her. “We slept together because we like each other.”
She winced. Because that wasn’t the whole truth. Not for her. Like didn’t come close to what she felt for Cameron Steward. The word she’d let slip last night—love—had been much more accurate.
The boy frowned before he grabbed another biscuit. “Da told me I should learn how to sleep alone and like it.”
Jen winced again. This time for the child lying in her arms and for the man behind her. She didn’t know exactly what horrible words had been spoken to Cam when he’d been a boy, but she’d very much like to punch his deceased father. “I think it’s fine if a person sleeps alone. Still, if they like someone a lot, they can sleep with them, too.”
“Hmm.” He pondered her explanation, his short, spiky hair brushing her chin. “I like ye a lot, so does that mean I can sleep with ye from now on?”
“No.” A deep voice rumbled from the bed. “She’s mine to sleep with.”
The boy slammed his teacup down and jumped out of her arms, running to the bed. “You’re awake!”
“How can I not be when I hear all sorts of gabbing?” Cam leaned on one elbow, letting the covers slide down to his waist. His hairy chest gleamed in the firelight, setting off a blast of want deep inside her.
“You’re naked,” his son observed, a quizzical note to his voice.
“I am.” His father didn’t appear fazed.
But Jen’s face heated with embarrassment at being caught by this boy. Yet, what did she expect? Robbie was too smart not to grasp the change in their relationship and anyway, she’d only be here for another five days. How much damage could happen in that amount of time?
The reminder she had only days left with these two hit her like a blaze of hot coals.
“Hand me my jeans, Rob.”
“Why?”
The father grinned at the pointed question, again undaunted by his son’s leery censure of the circumstances. “Because if ye and Jenny are going to have a wee feast in the middle of the night, I want some, too.”
Apparently finding that answer understandable, the boy bopped to the pile of clothes lying on the floor and pulled out the requested clothing.
“Now go back and sit with Jenny while I get these on.”
Robbie skipped to her, a grin on his face. Like his father, it didn’t seem to take long for him to recover from any perilous adventure or pointed rejection. His experience on th
e loch and his father’s pained rebuff of him mere hours ago appeared to be forgotten. “I’m going to eat all the biscuits before ye get here, Da.”
“Naw.” He jerked his jeans on and snapped them shut, then prowled to the table, swiping the platter into his hands. “I get them.”
“Da!”
“There’s enough for both of you, and leftovers for me, as well.” Jen rubbed her hand across the child’s hair, relishing the prickly points and wishing with an aching heart, she’d have the chance to ruffle this boy’s hair for years.
Five days.
That’s all the time she had with these two.
“Ye don’t say?” Cam plunked the platter down and headed for her small kitchenette. “What other goodies might ye be hiding in this room?”
“I think you’ve had more than enough of my goodies.” Before she could stop the uncharacteristic tease, it was out.
A deep bark of laughter made her smile.
Robbie peered at her, puzzled. “I’ve only had two biscuits, Jen. That’s not a lot.”
Teasing felt good, instead of scary. As a kid, her cousins had teased her unmercifully and she’d always thought it was mean, not fun. But now, now she realized she’d been wrong. So she gave it another attempt. “Your father has had far more than that.”
The roll of his laughter came again, as rich and redolent as his voice. “Not nearly enough, though, Jenny. Not nearly.”
His declaration made her stupid heart sing. She’d thought perhaps tonight would be the only night, yet it appeared this wasn’t the case. This made her so glad, so happy and ecstatic. The emotions zinging through her blood told her she’d better be prepared to face a long, horrid slog back to reality once she left here.
Cam’s mouth swooped in from behind, startling her out of her emotions and straight back into sexual need. His lips captured a kiss. He lingered on her, letting his tongue slide over and in.
“You’re kissing again.” Robbie’s voice came from the nest of her arms. “It's not fun, it's disgusting.”
His father tilted his head and glanced at his son, his eyes glittering with humor. “Do ye think so, Rob?”
“Yes, I think so.” The child burrowed deeper into the chair and her.
“But ye don’t know, do ye?” He grabbed his boy, lifting his squirming body in the air. “It’s best to experience something before ye make a judgment.”
“No, Da, I—”
His father kissed him. Right on his lips, and then he spread a flurry of kisses across his boy’s hair, his cheeks, before landing a big smacking kiss on his ear.
Robbie giggled and giggled some more.
Something had broken free in Cameron Steward. Something had changed in the last few hours, something that allowed him to give to his boy what he couldn’t before. Perhaps she’d been a part of this change. The thought sunk into her with a solid joy.
The image would be pasted into her memory for the rest of her life. Jen knew it with a spiking pang. The boy swinging in his father’s strong, bare arms, the light of laughter and love covering both of their faces. Whatever happened after she left, she had to believe there was enough between these two now that would guide them closer and closer to each other.
She had to believe that.
Because it was the only thing she had to hold on to.
“The pole should be here and the fire should be there.” Robbie’s voice piped into the conversation between Cam and Jen.
She looked down to meet an excited, childish gaze. Last night’s midnight snack hadn’t dimmed the energy of either the father or the son. By the time the boy had fallen asleep again and had been tucked into his own bed, her lover had been ready for another splendid adventure under her covers. Neither of them had slept until the first muted rays of sunshine filtered across the bed. She had wanted to laze and snooze the entire morning away, but her lover had poked and prodded her into a shared shower. By the time they’d thrown on some clothes, Robbie had been at her door, ready for action.
“I’m thinking we don’t want the fire to be too near the trees.” Cam inspected the budding blossoms on the chestnuts.
“There’s no way the fire can reach that high.” She gazed at the boughs hanging above her head.
“Ye don’t think so, eh?” He smoothed her hair off her forehead, the touch so light and gentle, it took her breath. “Well, ye haven’t seen a true Steward bonfire.”
“A Steward bonfire.” His son yipped in delight and jigged around the tree trunk. “I can’t wait.”
“A Steward bonfire has to be the best. Which means the biggest.”
“This could get risky.” She folded her arms in front of her in immediate distress, although his bravado pulled a reluctant smile from her. “There’ll be children here besides Robbie.”
The first thing Cam had done this morning was drive to the small market town nearest the estate. He’d come back an hour later, beaming with the news the entire town and surrounding families would be attending the bonfire and the May Day dance on the day after.
His son had barely contained his glee.
She had called the caterer and ordered five times what she’d initially planned.
“Life is risky.” His hand brushed her shoulder before sliding down her arm to pull her hand into his. “That’s what makes it exciting.”
“How big is the bonfire going to be, Da?” Robbie broke in.
“Big. Very big. I’m thinking we’ll have it by the loch.” He prowled off, past the lane of chestnuts, dragging her behind. His son clattered after them, wearing his red pirate hat and blue-green tartan kilt.
The gardens were clean and well kept now, a pleasure to Jen’s eyes. The crew had left for the day, only needing to finish some of the hedges by the house tomorrow. They’d leave behind well-planted flower beds, and clipped shrubs and trees.
Cam walked past all that without giving it a glance, down to the grassy knoll that rolled into the water. “I’m thinking here.”
“There are no trees here and that’s good,” she admitted.
“And if the fire gets out-of-control,” Robbie said with obvious relish, “we can always douse it with the loch.”
“Good point, lad.” He ruffled his son’s hair while keeping a tight grip on her hand. “I’ll draw a circle right here.”
Taking a long knife out of his boot, a modern replica of the one he’d caught her with in the armory, he knelt. He cut into the grass, drawing a huge circle.
“You can’t be serious.”
Glancing at her, he smirked. “I try never to be so stodgy as that. But in this case, I’m bound and determined our bonfire is going to fill this hole.”
“Yippee!” The boy jumped back and forth, over the line his father had cut. “We’re going to have the biggest bonfire in Scotland.”
“You’ll have to get a permit for something this big, won’t you?”
“No, little worrywart, I won’t.” Straightening, he looked at the loch. “I own all this land and I can do what I want on it.”
The sun shone today, gilding his dusky hair with amber highlights. A light wind whipped the hair around his face and lifted the flap of his blue mac. For a moment, she could imagine him as a Highland marauder, pacing across his recently conquered land. Then he twisted to face her, giving her a grin and a wink. In a flash, he became her real-time lover again, the man she’d fallen in love with, and the man she’d steal from and run from in a few days.
The realization made her heart stutter and her smile fell from her face.
“Jenny?” His touch came once more, a tender string of fingers across her cheek and neck. “What’s bothering ye?”
“Nothing, really.” Everything, really. Yet, she’d placed herself in this position, knowing what would come, knowing what was impossible. She had no one but herself to blame. Certainly not this man standing strong and solid before her. “Just running through the things I need to organize before your guests start arriving in a couple of days.”
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�Don’t fret yourself about all that.” He stepped to her side and slipped his arm around her waist. The heat of his body surrounded her, making her wish he’d always stand by her side. “The caterers will handle the food preparation and Mrs. Rivers will do the rest. The only thing you’ll have to do is enjoy the party.” He leaned in, his forehead touching hers, his gaze hazy with lust. “And enjoy me.”
“Da.” His son bounced to their side. “There’s no time for kissing Jen. We need to finish digging out this grass from the circle.”
“Naw.” He gave her another smile before turning to his son. “We’ll have the landscape crew dig this ditch and line it with rocks from the loch.” Cam nudged his foot under the fringe of the lawn he’d cut through. “I went ahead and called the lad who provides our firewood and he’ll be coming here with a load tomorrow.”
“Where are we going to have the pole, Da?” Robbie romped in the circle, his face alight with happiness. “Maybe we can have it right near the fire?”
“I’m thinking farther out.” His father strode across the grass to stand at the edge of the garden. “What do ye think, Jenny? Can we have the pole put in here and have the tables of food over there by the boathouse?”
“Yes.” She could see it as clearly as if it were real. A shiver of forgotten memories ran through her. She’d always been able to see a garden as it should be, but she hadn’t pictured a party and how it should be organized since she’d left her grandfather’s house in disgrace. “I can see it working very well.”
“Good.” He gave her a smile, and, for a moment, she glimpsed that wistful, wanting emotion in his eyes. “We have everything set then.”
“Mr. Steward!” The call came from the loch as a tugboat chugged into view, dragging a battered boat behind it. The main mast lay drunkenly on the top of the hatch, its tattered sails drooping into the water.
“Our sailboat!” Robbie lunged to the brink of the loch, his body trembling with delight. “Ye found it, Da. Ye found my collections, too.”
“This morning, I hired people to find it, if they could.” Cam grabbed his son before the boy flipped into the water. Kneeling, he threw his arm on the scrawny shoulders. “And it’s my boat, Rob. You’ll remember that the next time ye get a bee in your bonnet.”