The Highlander's Forbidden Bride

by Donna Fletcher

  “Who do I make love to, Carissa or Hope?” he asked with a devilish glint.

  “Can you handle Carissa?” she challenged.

  He chortled and lifted her up to plop her down on the edge of the table. “The question should be, can she handle me?”

  Carissa grinned and slipped her hand beneath his plaid to stroke the hard length of him and damn if he didn’t feel like velvet in her hand. “You appear the right size, Highlander, but…” She paused, and her grin grew. “We’ll have to see if you have the stamina.”

  “That’s a challenge, my love, I’m definitely up to.”

  He tossed up her skirt and she pushed his plaid aside and when he grabbed her around the waist and yanked her forward, he slid into her with ease.

  He rested his brow to hers. “Perfect fit.”

  “I agree,” she said, and she slipped her arms around his neck. “Now let’s see how much stamina you have.”

  He laughed, dropped his hands to her bottom, and lifted her just enough for him to move in a motion that had her moaning and groaning with pleasure in no time. And when she thought she would climax, he stopped and altered his rhythm, whether long or short strokes, it didn’t matter, for it quickened her passion and her moans grew louder.

  “Now,” she begged after what seemed like forever.

  “No, not yet,” he whispered, and carried her to the bed, still inside her.

  “Strip us,” he whispered as he nibbled at her ear.

  She did with haste, and he lowered them to the bed, where he proceeded to drive in and out of her with such exquisite torture that it wasn’t long before she was begging him for release.

  And he gave it to her with a forceful suddenness that had her screaming his name. But he wouldn’t let it end there. When she thought it was done, the ripples past, they started all over again. He raised her legs so they rested on his shoulders and drove even deeper into her, igniting her passion all over again.

  It was as if he had set her soul to burning, and only he could extinguish the never-ending flames. The heat poured through her and her body sparked and she wanted nothing, absolutely nothing, but him inside of her stoking, firing, and finally bursting until the fire completely consumed her.

  She cried out when the burst came upon her, and it spread in ripples of pleasure as he made sure she enjoyed each and every one. Then she felt him burst and moan with pleasure, and she smiled.

  She thought they would sleep the night, but their bodies thought differently, and she woke to his hand teasing her nub, already wet with the want of him. But he took his time, hardening her nipples with his flickering tongue, kissing down the center of her until his tongue replaced his hand, and she arched from the thrill that raced through her.

  She was ready to climax in no time and he didn’t stop her, though when she was almost finished, he entered her and caught up her ripples once again and drove her to another climax, in which he joined.

  She snuggled in his arms afterward, feeling more content and complete than ever before. But that wasn’t the end of it. Dawn had yet to arrive when she woke to him gently stroking her body, soft and subtle as if he barely touched her, and yet his faint touch created magic. It teased and tempted and made her shiver with desire. And when he was done with the front of her, he rolled her over and went to work there and she buried her face in the mattress to stifle her loud moans.

  She heard him laugh, and as she turned to confront him, he wrapped his arm around her waist, swung her completely around, kissed her, then entered her slowly and with a damn grin.

  She rose up to meet him, but he held back.

  “Tell me you want me,” he teased.

  “You know I do.”

  “Tell me,” he said, and eased out of her, though not completely.

  “Don’t make me beg,” she snapped.

  “Ah, my sweet Carissa,” he said, his green eyes intent. “Tell me, Carissa, tell me you want me.”

  He had called her Carissa, and there was no anger in his eyes, so without hesitation she said, “I want you, Highlander, I want you so very badly.”

  “Damn if I don’t feel the same about you,” he growled as he set them in motion and within minutes sent them both reeling from the explosive release that left them breathless and completely spent.

  The next time they woke they both lay exhausted wrapped around each other.

  “I’m tired,” she said on a yawn.

  “So am I”—he grinned—“but it’s a sweet exhaustion that I savor.”

  She smiled. “I wholeheartedly agree.”

  “We should sleep more,” he said with a yawn.

  “Again I agree,” she said, as her eyes closed.

  The final time they woke it was to be startled out of sleep by a vicious pounding on the door.

  “Ronan, get out here,” Cavan yelled from outside the door.

  Carissa had no intention of letting Ronan face his brother alone. She was just as guilty as he, though Cavan probably thought her more guilty. He probably assumed she had seduced Ronan.

  “What are you doing?” Ronan asked as he wrapped his plaid across his chest to tuck in at his waist.

  She tucked her blouse in her skirt and stuck her chin up. “I will face your brother with you.”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” he ordered. “This is between Cavan and me.”

  She stopped herself from protesting, realizing that it was as Ronan said, something that could only be solved between brothers.

  “You’re right,” she said. “I will wait here for you.”

  “Thank you,” he said, and kissed her, then smiled. “You have to admit. I do have stamina.”

  She chuckled. “And glad I am for it, Highlander.”

  “Ronan, get out here, or I’m coming in,” Cavan shouted.

  “I’m coming,” he yelled back.

  “You will not fight your brother, will you?” she asked, worried.

  He laughed. “It may be what we need.” He kissed her then, and said, “Make me some apple buns while I see to my brother?”

  She nodded. “I’ll have them waiting.”

  As soon as Ronan walked out the door, she hurried to the window and peered out. She was disappointed to see that they took their argument to the keep. With nothing left for her to do but wait, she hurriedly washed her face with water she heated at the hearth and tied her hair back with a strip of cloth.

  She then got busy with the apple buns and just as she set them to cool a knock sounded at the door, and she sighed with relief, though she wondered why Ronan didn’t just enter.

  But it wasn’t Ronan at the door. It was Dykar.

  “Don’t tell me, more bad news,” she said after closing the door behind him.

  “Septimus received a message that Cregan wishes to speak with you.”

  “Well that sounds promising,” she said. “I can tell him face-to-face that I have no intentions of honoring any agreements my father made with him.”

  “I hope it’s that simple.”

  “Is there some reason you don’t believe it will be?” she asked.

  Dykar shrugged. “Why didn’t he come for you right after your father died? Why did he wait?”

  “I’ll find out,” she said. “When does he wish to meet?”

  “He won’t be here for at least a week, and he asks that you choose where and when.”

  “He seems to be accommodating.”

  “Too accommodating,” Dykar complained. “And I still think it would be wise to inform the Sinclares about his approach.”

  “If I can handle this without them knowing anything about it, it just might be better for all.”

  “And what if they find out about his approach and think you have planned something with him?” Dykar asked.

  “You do have a point,” she said. “No doubt they will discover his approach when he draws near enough.”

  “And then it will be too late, and you will appear guilty.”

  “You’ve always looked out for me
when possible,” she said with a smile

  “That’s especially important now since you’ve gone and fallen in love,” he said, grinning wide.

  “I have, Dykar,” she said joyfully. “I have truly fallen in love.”

  Just as they threw their arms around each other and hugged tight, the door flew open and in walked Ronan.

  Chapter 32

  Ronan stood frozen in the doorway, never expecting to see the woman he loved in another man’s arms. They broke apart, and Carissa hurried over to him, greeting him with a blissful smile and a kiss, but still, he did not like the scene he had burst in on.

  “Dykar has come to visit,” she said. “He can join us for the morning meal.”

  Ronan nodded, though reluctant, preferring time alone with her. He closed the door behind him. “The twins asked for more apple buns.”

  “Would you like to take some to them?” she asked, walking over to scoop out a couple.

  “You take them,” he said, sitting at the table. “It will give Dykar and me a chance to get better acquainted.”

  Dykar responded before Carissa could object. “Go, Rissa. I’d like a chance to speak with Ronan.”

  Carissa looked from one man to the other, shook her head, then scooped the buns in a basket and placed a cloth over them.

  She gave Ronan a kiss, and as she walked out the door, she said, “You obviously survived the encounter with your brother, please do the same with Dykar, since I love you both.”

  Ronan glared at Dykar and wondered what she meant that she loved them both. He should be the only one she loved. Who was this man who had earned Carissa’s love? Suddenly he remembered something Carissa had mentioned at the cottage. Just a brief reference when they had spoken about siblings…

  “She loves you like a brother, doesn’t she?” Ronan asked.

  Dykar nodded. “And I love her like a sister.”

  “Do you know her like one?”

  “Better than anyone,” Dykar said.

  “Not quite,” Ronan said with a smile.

  Dykar didn’t smile. “I know things about her you will never know, for she will never speak of them to you.”

  “Tell me,” Ronan said. “I truly want to know Carissa.”

  “If you love her, what difference does it make?”

  “It’s not if I love her, I do love her, but—”

  “But what?” Dykar snapped annoyed. “If you love her, nothing else should matter.”

  “Nothing does matter,” Ronan shot back. “But I have a family that needs convincing that she is kind and can be trusted.”

  “She needs to know the same of you, though I can tell you that her father made sure that trust did not come easily to his daughter,” Dykar said. “He was a cruel, cruel father.”

  “So it would seem from the few things she has told me,” Ronan said. “I’m surprised her father allowed you two to become so close.”

  “He didn’t. Carissa learned early on that he would not allow her to love anyone or thing, and with me being a slave—”

  “You were a slave of Mordrac’s?” Ronan was shocked.

  “I was, though Carissa made certain that I wasn’t treated badly.” He laughed. “The only way she could be sure of that was to treat me badly herself. She made it appear that she hated me, then we would sneak off to the woods together, where she had food hidden for me. We would talk and play.”

  His smile faded.

  “What happened?” Ronan asked.

  “I matured, became a man, and couldn’t stomach the way Mordrac treated her. I foolishly spoke up to him.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He ordered me whipped to near death and left on the post to die slowly.”

  “Carissa saved you?”

  Dykar nodded. “That she did. She got me out of there before the whipping. I wanted her to go with me, but she refused, reminding me that Mordrac would search the world for his daughter, then brutality kill the man she fled with, but a mere slave he would not waste his time on.”

  “So she remained behind and you—”

  “I fled, though not far, and Carissa brought those she helped flee to me.”

  “Which started the mercenary troop?”

  “Yes, that’s how we got started,” Dykar said.

  Ronan thought a minute. “So Carissa made me think I was being sold to mercenaries when she was actually freeing me.”

  “She hoped you would simply return home and forget about her.”

  “And when I didn’t—”

  “Her only choice was to remove the reason why you remained with the group,” Dykar said, shaking his head. “She didn’t realize that your love for Hope was so strong that it would demand revenge against her.”

  “Carissa seems to have sacrificed a lot for others,” Ronan said.

  “She has lost more than you will ever know.”

  Ronan was beginning to realize that there was a depth to Carissa that defined not a cruel nature but rather a selfless one. It made him want to protect her, cherish her, and love her all the more.

  “This may seem an unimportant question, but why is Carissa frightened of dogs?”

  Dykar sighed and slowly shook his head. “Rissa loves dogs.”

  Ronan stared at him oddly. “Not from what I’ve seen. She froze when my mother’s dog raced over to her to lick her hand, and I watched her shove a puppy away from her when all he wanted to do was play.”

  “I’ll tell you a story no one knows, and I only know it because I watched from a hiding spot, fearful that Rissa would suffer her father’s rage.” Dykar paused and took a breath. “At a young age, Rissa became attached to a puppy while her father was away warring. The little fellow followed her everywhere. They were inseparable. When her father returned, he flew into a rage when he discovered that she cared for the puppy. He screamed at her about love being foolish and not lasting and he would not have a daughter of his being foolish. He took that puppy and in front of her…” Dykar couldn’t finish, his eyes filled with tears.

  Ronan sat speechless, feeling as if his heart had been torn out of his chest.

  “Rissa learned that day never to let her father see that she cared for anyone or thing. She pretended to steel her heart to keep others she cared for from suffering, but somehow she still managed to hold on to hope.” Dykar pointed at him. “And you arrived beaten, bruised, and bloodied, and you reached out to her and called her Hope, and she lost her heart to you.”

  Dykar pointed his finger at Ronan. “Don’t break it. Her heart has been damaged enough. She does what she does to protect people, not to hurt them.”

  Ronan was stunned. He almost wished Mordrac was still alive so that he could kill him all over again. But then Carissa had experienced enough hatred; what she truly needed now was to be loved.

  “I’m glad we got to talk,” Ronan said.

  “So am I,” Dykar agreed. “And just remember that whatever Rissa does, she does out of love.”

  “Thank you so much,” Honora said, pulling apart the apple buns for her sons to share. “That’s all they have asked for since they woke this morning.”

  “I’m glad they like them,” Carissa said, wanting to return to the cottage, worried that Ronan and Dykar might not get along.

  Tavish screamed when Lachlan stole a piece of the bun from his plate.

  Honora sent him a scathing look.

  Lachlan licked his fingers after finishing the piece. “They’re too tasty to ignore.”

  “I’ll bake more,” Carissa said, pleased that everyone enjoyed them.

  “Lots,” Lachlan said.

  “Carissa!”

  She jumped at the unexpected shout of her name, though turned calmly to glare at Cavan.

  “I wish to speak with you,” he said.

  It was a command, not a request, and she nodded.

  “Can’t this wait?” Honora asked her husband. “She has yet to eat, and neither have you.”

  Cavan glared a moment at his wife, then tu
rned and walked away.

  Carissa knew it was a silent command for her to follow, and so she did, with a quick smile to Honora for her concern.

  She entered Cavan’s solar, he closing the door behind her. And without waiting to be invited to sit, she took a seat in one of the chairs before the hearth. He joined her, and she could see that he was none too pleased with her actions, or perhaps he was unhappy with his confrontation with Ronan. Either way, he was annoyed.

  “My brother believes you a good, kind woman,” he said.

  “And you don’t?”

  “According to Ronan, my opinion of you is misconstrued and, therefore, I would not be able to judge you fairly. He feels that you should be given time to prove how kind and generous you are before I pass any judgment on you.”

  She was ever so pleased that Ronan had defended her. “And how do you feel about that?”

  “I feel I should judge you and end this farce since it’s obvious my brother has no intention of obeying me,” he said angrily.

  “Would you obey such an order?”

  “He is not my laird.”

  “No, he’s your brother,” she reminded. “And the both of you have suffered enough because of my family.”

  “I agree,” he said bluntly.

  “Then judge,” she said, her shoulders back and her chin high.

  “Here and now?”

  “I’m ready,” she said.

  He shook his head. “You are entitled to be heard by all before I pass judgment.”

  “I waive that right. Judge me as you will, you have the right.”

  He shook his head. “You are a bold one.”

  “If it is bold to speak the truth, then I am guilty of being bold,” she said. “So say what you will, and I will do the same.”

  “Fair enough,” he agreed.

  “Tell me what I am accused of so that I may challenge the accusation.”

  “You and Ronan are of the same mind,” he said. “He reminded me that you have committed no crime. You may be guilty of being cruel while we were prisoners of your father, but your only crime is being Mordrac’s daughter. He also pointed out that we haven’t always been kind to prisoners ourselves and have never been punished for it.”