by Kam McKellar
He paused. He shouldn't wait, shouldn't turn around and instead let this whole thing end here—whatever the bloody hell it was. But he found himself turning around anyway. She stood in the middle of the pebble beach. “I'm sorry. That totally came out wrong. It's just...” Her hands wrung together in front of her dress. “I thought you had better things to do than hang with me, is all.”
He cocked his head. “You mean with my date?”
She gazed everywhere but at him. “Well, yeah. I mean, she's gorgeous and you two seemed...”
A grin tugged the corners of his mouth, but he was too curious to see what she'd say about him and Harper. “What?”
“Familiar. I don't know.”
Liam closed the distance between them. Her dark eyes seemed to glitter, reflecting the tree lights as she gazed up at him. “Harper and I are friends. We were almost step siblings once. My brother was completely in love with her. Still is, apparently.”
“Oh,” the soft word came out with embarrassment.
He moved closer and she took a step back, her heel catching a small rock. Her ankle turned. Liam grabbed her arms to keep her upright. “Careful,” he murmured as she steadied herself. Her skin was smooth under his hands. This close, he could scent peaches in her hair.
“Probably not the best shoes for this place,” she said with a small laugh.
He could've let go. Should have let go. “How's your wound?” he asked, guiding her to the wooden chair.
“Hurting a bit in these shoes, but—”
After she sat, he pulled the second chair to face hers, sat on the edge and lifted her foot. It was quiet for a moment, the gentle lap of the water and the bagpipes taking over.
“What are you doing?”
Her low, breathy voice made nerves leap in his stomach as he unbuckled the strap around her ankle, then removed her shoe to peel the bandage away. “The air will do it some good.”
He lifted his gaze and met her wide eyes, the expression in them troubled and stark with emotion. She couldn't hide anything. The knowledge made him bite back a smile. She was as wired as he was. “I don't think that's going to stick back,” she said.
“No worries. I brought another.”
She flinched, her eyes growing round with surprise.
Shite.
He rarely got embarrassed, but the way Abbie was looking at him now made his cheeks grow warm. Disbelief threaded through her voice as she said, “You just happened to have another bandage on you.”
For a moment, all he could hear was the pounding of his heart. He cleared his throat and tried like hell to sound casual. “Aye, well... Figured you might have need of one or two with all the dancing. Not that you stayed long enough for that, but...”
Abbie pulled her foot free, her eyes swimming with emotion and desire. She leaned forward, cupped his face, and put her sweet mouth on his.
A shiver went through him.
And when she removed the pressure of her soft lips, it was only so she could look at him with those big expressive eyes, eyes that told him she wanted more. A lot more. Liam flicked a hot look at her mouth, which was parted and ready. Abbie kissed him again, her tongue flicking out to lick his bottom lip.
Damn.
Her breath stirred and mingled with his, and, like lightning, his control snapped. He slanted his lips over hers and took her mouth in a hungry kiss. A groan rumbled in his throat. His heart raced, he was hard as a rock, and his blood pounded like thunder through his veins.
She was like a drug, dragging him under. And he went willingly.
Abbie broke the kiss, pulling back only enough to rest her forehead on his. Her breath was ragged like his. Her lips were swollen and he wanted to take them again, harder. So damn hard. The force of it shocked him.
He released her and ran a hand down his face, trying to regulate his breathing. His thoughts were all over the place, his emotions churning like a stormy sea. It was baffling. And it sure as hell felt like he was drowning.
After a long moment, Abbie whispered. “I shouldn't have done that.” Her gaze met his and it was apologetic and deeply confused. “I'm so sorry.”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I don't send mixed messages, Liam. That's not who I am.” She shook her head and stared at the water with a heavy sigh before facing him. “I don't know what I'm doing with you.”
A half smile tugged his lips because he felt exactly the same way. “Neither do I. I keep telling myself to leave you be and the next thing I know, I'm hunting you down.”
“I don't want to get involved.”
He expected her words, but still they were like a dull arrow in the chest. “I know, Abbie.” The irony wasn't lost on him; he'd been on the other side of similar conversations many times. And now he knew how it felt.
She grabbed his hands. “If I did get involved, it'd be more for me that some vacation fling. It'd mean something. And then I'd leave and it would . . . hurt. You understand what I'm saying? I think it would hurt. A lot.”
He hadn't expected her to be so honest. On one hand, aye, it stung. On the other, he understood. There was more going on between them than anything as simple and quick as a holiday affair.
Because they'd fall hard.
That's what she was saying.
And she was right. He'd fall hard, harder than with anyone else. And, like her, the last thing he wanted was to watch her drive away.
Abbie was right. Better to stop the madness now. Before they sank any deeper.
“Aye,” he said with a sigh. “You're right. 'Tis the sensible thing...”
And the toughest thing.
As she grabbed her shoe to put it on, he reached into his pocket and pulled out one of three bandages he'd put there, wanting to do the deed himself, but instead he handed it over. Abbie pulled the paper off the back and lifted her foot to apply the bandage, the hem of her dress slipping softly up her thigh. When she was finished, he took the trash from her and crushed it in his fist as she buckled the strap around her ankle.
With a heavy exhale, he stood and held out his hand.
She gazed up at him with regret in her eyes and a thin smile on her face. “Thank you.” She slipped her hand into his and let him lead her across the pebble beach to the trail.
CHAPTER 8
Walking down the path, Abbie was keenly aware of Liam at her back. God, she was sick of butterflies. Every time she thought about him, she got them. Every time she saw him, she got them. Every time he touched her, she got them. And now, his presence behind her and so close, she got them. She never should have kissed him. Why the hell had she kissed him?
Because he'd brought bandages with him, and it'd made a nice little crack in her defenses.
So stupid, to kiss him.
So irresponsible.
But, man, it had been incredible. And the big, capable Highlander had kissed her back so thoroughly, the contrast of all that pent up masculine strength had driven her wild inside. And she'd wanted so much, had wanted to climb onto his hard body and run her hands all over...
Her heart was still going a mile a minute, all her unfilled sexual tension had, and still was, pooling between her legs. Near the intersection of paths, Abbie stopped suddenly to take a breath and calm herself. Liam plowed into her, his arms going around her waist so she wouldn't fall forward.
They froze.
His body was flat against hers, the evidence of his arousal pressed against her bottom. Oh, God. Through the sheer material of her dress it was unmistakable. Lust shoot straight to her core. His hand was splayed wide on her lower stomach.
And neither one moved or spoke.
Her heart was pounding so hard, she couldn't hear, couldn't think. She could feel his breath near her temple, feel his chest rising and falling, and feel the intense heat of him.
The butterflies were uncontrollable and electric. She was so tired of being alone and untouched, of denying herself that she gave in, leaning back and rubbing against him. His breath caught
and held, and she felt him struggle with indecision. Then, “I'm so going to hell,” he muttered, spinning her around, one hand cupping her head, the other cupping her ass as he ground against her and took her mouth in a searing, hard, utterly possessive kiss.
An explosion went off inside her, everywhere all at once.
Pleasure and desperate need filled her up, delicious tugs spreading through her like warm honey. His hot tongue stroked hers in a deep rhythm that mimicked what they both really wanted. He walked her backward, away from the intersection of the paths. A tree hit her back, Liam's hard body pressing into her, his hand moving to her thigh and finding the edge of her dress.
As soon as his hot, rough hand smoothed along her bare thigh, Abbie let out a groan. Touch. Yes, touch.
“Liam,” she whispered raggedly. She was lost, desperate, and needed so much.
“Abbie,” he said against her mouth, his voice just as ragged and breathless as her own. And then his hand was sliding up and over her thigh, higher and higher until it stopped. “More?”
“Yes, more.”
He continued to the juncture of her thighs where he pressed his hand against her, making her wild. His lips were on her neck, kissing a trail to her ear. He bit the lobe gently, then whispered, “More?”
The pressure of his hand was killing her, making her heart hammer even louder than before and her body pulse like a live wire. “Yes. More.” So much more. She rubbed herself against his hand, biting her lip to prevent the whimper building in her throat.
As soon as his fingers moved toward her pantie line, Abbie's anticipation roared. And then his hot hand was inside, a finger sliding along her wet crease before dipping inside.
Yes.
Instant waves of pleasure rolled over her. Her fingernails dug into his back. So quick, she was already lost, already going over the edge as he slowly stroked over her in slow maddening circles.
“Oh . . . God,” the whisper was torn from her mouth, “Liam. I'm going to—”
She came with his mouth over hers, her cry stifled as her orgasm burst her apart. He wrung it all out of her, too, until her muscles went liquid and her legs were shaking.
After he removed his hand and readjusted her dress, he stayed there pinning her against the tree, kissing her forehead, her temple, and smoothing her hair. Her heart was still hammering, but his was harder against her chest and she knew he was trying to calm down.
He was like steel against her. She wanted to shock him, make him see stars and to find the same astounding relief as she had.
Since her legs wouldn't support her, she pushed away from the tree and sank down in front of him, grabbing the waistband of his pants. Instantly, he froze. His voice was shaky, threatening to break apart. “Abbie,” he swallowed, “what are you doing?”
“Fair's fair,” she murmured, pulling down his zipper carefully, pushing his pants over his hips. She was greeted with a pair of fitted black boxer briefs that hugged his thighs and did little to contain his erection. He hissed as she pulled the briefs down. When he was free, Abbie closed her hand around the hard shaft, the feel of his hot velvety skin starting a low ache in her again.
Almost in a panic, he said, “I dinna ken if this is a good place—”
“Hush.”
Her mouth closed around him, licking the moisture there and then going deep. “Fuck...” She smiled and heard his hand slap against the tree for support as the other delved into her hair. When her hand closed around his heavy balls, he managed, “I'm no' gonna last...”
Oh yeah, he was as completely lost as she had been and the knowledge that she could bring the big, sexy Scot to such a desperate state filled her with pleasure and power. Abbie worked him with every bit of passion and dedication she possessed. And it wasn't long before his hand tightened in her hair, giving her a little thrill, and his body went completely stiff. “Ah, gods, Ab--”
She felt the pulse of his orgasm, and she held on, wringing every last bit of pleasure from his body the same way he'd done to her. When she was done, Liam was leaning over her, both hands on the tree and breathing heavy. She pulled his briefs back up, then his pants. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her to her feet and slipped one arm around her, holding her against him as his heart beat strong against her chest.
Abbie smiled into his shirt.
They stayed like that a long moment before he was able to remove his other hand from the tree and stand on his own. Neither one of them had words.
Eventually, Liam leaned back and kissed her mouth. A grin tugged at his lips, making her smile. “I canna believe we did that right here on the path,” he said as he zipped and buttoned his pants.
Actually, neither could she. She'd never done anything like that before.
The sounds of the party came flooding back, bringing reality with it. Liam dragged a hand through his hair. Abbie smoothed her dress. Her mind went blank; she didn't know what to say.
Talk about mixed messages.
Apparently she was becoming the Queen of Mixed Messages.
She opened her mouth to apologize again, but he grabbed her hand. Not knowing what else to do, she followed him down the path, through the garden, and around the castle to the patio.
The idea of facing her friends filled her with dread. She needed time to compose herself, and she was sure that everyone who cared to look would know exactly what they'd done. “You go ahead,” she told Liam as they came to the doors that led into the conservatory. “I'm just going to freshen up.”
He hesitated. She could feel his stare, but she couldn't meet his gaze. What a disaster. She never felt so lost. With a quick smile, she darted past him, hurried through the conservatory and then down the hall. Around the corner she bypassed the bathroom, and headed straight out of the castle to her bike.
She walked the thing all the way back to the cottage and by the time she got there, the tears flowed as she went inside and closed the door behind her.
Oh God, what had she done?
* * *
Liam stared at the ceiling, the cool sheet over his bare skin making every nerve come alive, making him think of Abbie.
She'd bolted.
Couldn't say that he blamed her. What had happened in the woods had been the complete opposite of what they'd discussed moments before on the pebble beach.
No doubt she was berating herself, just as he'd been doing ever since.
The memories and sensations still clung to him. While he enjoyed what women had to offer, he'd always been up front about his intentions and had always been in control.
Until tonight.
He'd been completely out of control in the woods, the need to touch Abbie like needing air to breathe, needing to connect with her on some level that was new and frightening. He wanted to know her in all ways, wanted to show her his world, who he really was, and he wanted to know hers. He wanted to see all the things that mattered to her. And even the idea of meeting her son didn't fill him with dread, it made him smile.
Aye. He was falling.
To back away from the edge of something great was against his make-up. When Liam came to an edge, he leapt off it with everything he had. That was his nature. But it had always been with the knowledge and certainty that he'd land on his feet.
This time, there was no certainty. This time, he was fairly sure he'd crash and burn.
Abbie was right. It would hurt when she left.
CHAPTER 9
The next morning, Liam headed out to Malcolm's, glad to have the distraction rather than relive the events of last night over and over again. God knew, he'd done enough of that already. He sipped hot coffee from a travel mug as he navigated the muddy track, knowing his uncle would be surprised by the unexpected visit, and even more surprised by the offer Liam brought with him.
He wasn't sure who had come up with the name, The Great & Terrible, but he was guessing it had been Ross or Jamie when they were lads. The name had stuck and, over the years, it had eventually made its way to the village, so t
hat anyone speaking or hearing the name knew exactly who the words referred to. It had become a title, and one that folks respected.
There was only ten years between Liam and Malcolm. And there had been a small window of time—before Malcolm outgrew them—when they'd all played together as lads. Even back then, Mal had earned his name. He was bigger and tougher and more confident than all the young MacLaren cousins combined.
Liam would have presented Ian's offer to Ross first and saved Malcolm for last, but Harper's appearance yesterday at the party had changed all that.
It had been great to see her. Harper had been kind to him as a lad, always giving him the time of day, gracing him with her smile and southern charm. One look at her on the steps yesterday, at the woman she'd become, and he'd known right then and there that his big brother was in for a massive wake-up call. And, aye, she might be in Balmorie looking for her father's lost bourbon-making recipes, but Liam knew there was a wealth of unresolved issues between them, so he'd leave his brother alone to deal with Harper and hope to hell they worked things out.