Once Upon a Highland Christmas (Highland Warriors Book 3)

by Sue-Ellen Welfonder

  The gods of Yule had spoken to him.

  And as he climbed the creaky wooden stairs to the Munzie guest room, passing garlands of holly and ivy, every bright, red-ribboned bow seeming to wink at him, he knew that as a mere mortal man, he didn’t dare ignore their message.

  Nor did he wish to, for the gods had presented him with three irrefutable truths…

  Through Malcolm, they’d shown him he daren’t waste a moment, not when true love is at stake.

  With this journey, they’d reminded him that he couldn’t abide falsehoods and that he abhorred pretending to be someone he wasn’t.

  Above all, they’d let him realize how much he loved and needed Breena.

  So his burdens lifted as he made for Breena’s door. Before sunrise, they’d no longer be playing a part. When morning came, they’d descend the stairs as a couple, loving, true, and belonging together.

  All the world would know it, and rightly so.

  He was proud to love her.

  And he didn’t care that Fergus and Malcolm knew he meant to have her this night.

  He just hoped she’d have him.

  “Grim! I didn’t hear you come in.”

  At the sight of him, Breena almost dropped the great linen drying cloth she’d just wrapped about her nakedness. Even in the room’s dimness, she could tell something was different about him. Somehow, he looked larger than before, bolder and more fearsome, as if he were going to battle. The change stunned her into breathlessness and she took a step backward, bumping into the linen-lined bathing tub she’d soaked in until only a moment ago.

  She blinked, not sure what else to say, because rather than answer her, he was carefully undoing his plaid’s heavy silver brooch.

  His gaze remained on hers as he did so, even as he pulled off the pin and his plaid, dropping both onto a wooden chest near the door.

  How had he entered the little room so quietly, and why hadn’t she heard the door open and close? Surely such a big man couldn’t move so silently? Yet he had and he was doing so again.

  Somehow he was right before her.

  She hadn’t even blinked, she was sure.

  He looked furious, his brows lowered and his beautiful gray gaze so fierce only her pride, and the lingering soreness from their ride, kept her from nipping behind the half-barrel that was the Munzies’ bathing tub.

  She did feel her eyes widening, and her heart beat so wildly she could hardly draw breath.

  Grim lifted a hand, brushing his knuckles down her cheek. “The men of my clan are known to move in silence, when we must. Suchlike serves us well in times of war and intrigue. Now and again I forget myself and do so when such a skill is no’ needed.

  “Mackintosh men can also be grand fools, on occasion.” He lowered his hand, trailing his fingers along the side of her neck where he touched the fluttering pulse at the base of her throat as if its rapid beats were a thing of great wonder. “And I have been the greatest lummox of all.

  “I’ve made a grave error with this journey.” He looked miserable, his face grieved, his tone somber.

  Breena’s heart split to see his unhappiness.

  He regretted bringing her with him.

  A truth that brought all her hopes and dreams, her most fervent beliefs in the wonder of Yule, crashing down around her.

  “I understand.” She did, and it was terrible, the hurt eating at her as surely as if hordes of carrion were tearing into her heart.

  Not wanting him to guess, she lifted her chin, meeting his gaze with all the dignity she could muster. “Further, I have told you, I am not a lady.

  “I am an Irish village lass and glad that is so.” She tightened her grip on the drying cloth, keenly aware of her unclothed state. Her still-damp hair tumbling about her shoulders, in total disarray. The chill bumps that surely made her so unsightly.

  All that, Grim had to see, even with only one candle flickering on the bed’s night table, and the room’s two poorly burning oil lamps.

  She looked a fright, the pads of her fingers and toes even shriveled.

  Had she truly believed she could linger in the tub until Grim strolled into the room, ‘surprising’ her as she bathed, the sight of her bared breasts proving her a woman? More shameful still, a siren he’d pounce upon?

  Had she been so wicked?

  She had.

  She’d even stayed in the tub until the lavender-scented water turned so cold she wouldn’t have wondered if ice skimmed the surface.

  All in the hope of seducing Grim.

  Now he was here. She wasn’t in the tub, but was as good as naked. And he wasn’t eyeing her in the appreciative way she’d hoped he’d do.

  He was looking at her as if he stood on a field of battle and she was his foe.

  “Perhaps you’re no’ a lady by the rights of law.” His frown was even darker now. “You heard what I think of that in Lady Rosalie’s room of stars, back in Duncreag’s Winter Tower. I’ve no’ changed my mind.”

  “Yet you’re sorry we made this journey.” Stepping around him as gracefully as her soreness allowed, she started for the bed. She hoped to snatch the chin-to-ankle woolen night-robe Flora had given her because the room lacked a hearth, a small coal-burning brazier its only warmth.

  “You wish I’d stayed at Duncreag.”

  “I didnae say that.” Grim moved with lightning speed, his arm shooting out to seize her wrist, his iron grip drawing her back to him. “I said I erred and I did. My mistake was no’ bringing you with me, but allowing us to pretend we’re betrothed.”

  “I see.” Breena felt heat sweep her, knew her face was flaming. “You’re embarrassed by—”

  “I’m in love with you, is what I am!” He grasped her face, kissed her roughly, a deep, hot kiss that set her senses spinning. “I dinnae want to play your intended.” He tore his mouth from hers, his eyes blazing. “I am no’ a man for foolery and deceit and ne’er will be. Truth is I want you for my own, as my wife.”

  “You wish us to marry?” Breena could scarce believe it. She touched a shaky hand to her lips, could almost feel them tingling from his kiss. His words, his avowal of love, threatened to burst her heart. The chilly little room tilted, careening crazily around them as the floor seemed to rise and fall like the tides of the sea. Outside, the wind shrieked and the room was colder than ever. She could also hear one of the Munzie dogs barking.

  But none of that felt real, not a bit mattered.

  She only cared about the big, battle-hardened warrior looking at her with so much love and adoration, his soul stripped bare and laid before her. With one huge hand, he cupped her head, gazing deep into her eyes, almost desperately. He searched her face, intently.

  “I have ne’er wanted anything more.” He seized her hand, bringing it to his lips, kissing her knuckles, her fingers. “Since you’ve told me there’s no one waiting for you in Donegal, I’ve nigh gone mad trying to find the right words to claim you. I pray you’ll no’ refuse me.”

  “Oh, Grim…” Her voice broke, failing her.

  He dropped to one knee before her, the gallant pose proving his purpose. “I’d make you mine, lass. I lost my heart to you the moment I set eyes upon you. I dinnae want us to assume a role. That was wrong and I’ll do it no more. I want to wed you this very night, if you’ll have me.”

  “Oh, I will!” Breena dashed at her cheek, blinked back her tears. “I want nothing more. I’ve hoped for this moment so long. But…” She glanced about the small room with its simple bed and one oaken table, the night stand that held the room’s only candle.

  There wasn’t much more belowstairs either, certainly not a hidden monk or priest.

  Surely Grim knew that.

  So perhaps he was only speaking words that would comfort her once they’d lain together?

  She didn’t want to think it, yet…

  “What is it, sweet?” He stood, slipped a finger beneath her chin, lifting her face to his. “Have you changed your mind already? Will you no’ be having me
then?”

  Breena swallowed, not sure how to speak her concern. “We cannae be wed,” she finally blurted, rushing the words before embarrassment stayed her tongue. “There’s no one here but the Munzies and Sir Malcolm and his wife. I doubt they have the power to—”

  “To wed us?” Grim surprised her by sweeping an arm around her, pulling her close. “We dinnae need a holy man’s mumbling to bless our union. Nor to make it any more binding than if we speak our intent ourselves.”

  Breena pulled back, blinking up at him. Old memories rose in her mind, romantic tales sung at her uncle’s hearthside of how things were in ancient times. Both in her own beloved Ireland in and the Scottish Highlands, in the bygone days of pagans and the tribes of Celts.

  She’d forgotten Grim was pagan.

  “You wish to marry me tonight, in the old way?” She lifted a hand to touch his beard, fingering one of its silver rings. “As my forefathers once wed and—”

  “As we men of Nought still claim our lady wives, Breena.” He caught her hand, again lifting it to his lips, kissing each of her fingers. “We will have a priest say the vows later, just so no one can deny the truth of our union. But this night, if we hold hands and look into each other’s eyes, pledging our love and intent, vowing to give ourselves to no other, so long as we both shall live, on this earth and beyond, then we are as good as wed, my dear heart. The old gods deem it so.

  “All that I say to you, Breena O’Doherty.” Somehow he’d taken hold of her other hand, laced their fingers, and pressed their joined hands to his heart. “Will you repeat the sacred words to me?”

  She did, holding his beautiful gray gaze as she spoke them, the portent of each promise filling her with so much love and such joy she could hardly believe the happiness swelling inside her.

  “All that I say to you, Grim Mackintosh,” she finished, tears of wonder misting her eyes.

  “Then it is done.” Grim smiled down at her and she felt a hard lump in her throat.

  She couldn’t speak and her heart beat much too fast, the little room and even Grim’s beloved face blurring as her tears spilled free.

  There was magic at Christmastide. And she was surely the luckiest, most blessed woman in the Highlands. No, in all broad Scotland. Who would’ve believed Grim, a noble warrior of such high standing, would want her for his bride? That he’d make her feel as if she were not just a woman but the most precious gift in all the world?

  She bit her lip, blinking rapidly, scarce able to believe her good fortune.

  Grim squeezed her hands and stepped back, using his thumbs to wipe her cheeks. “I’d no’ make you sad, love. No’ e’er, and I’d tear apart the fool who would dare to bring you grief.”

  “I’m not crying because I’m unhappy.” She lifted up on her toes, kissing his cheek. “My tears are for joy. You’ve held my heart so long. All this time I thought you didn’t even see me.”

  “I told you, lass, I suspected you pined for a Donegal lad.” He met her gaze, looking somewhat embarrassed. “I didnae want to push you. Sakes, you’d scarce glanced at any of the braw and bonnie lads who sought to catch your eye. I was sure your heart was no’ just given, but broken by your loss. To see you rebuke such promising young suitors, lads who would’ve been well-matched to you…” He closed his eyes for a moment, drew a deep breath. “Sweet Breena…

  “Plain-speaking man that I am, I will tell you I thought a fine wee lassie like yourself would be afeared of a great brute like me.”

  “That was never the way of it.” Breena took a deep breath of her own, summoning her courage and letting her love for this man run free. “No one else interested me. Only you. Though I doubted you’d desire me, noble warring knight that you are, with highborn ladies surely vying for your attention. How could I hope to compete with such worthies? In truth, I hoped to seduce you this night. I wished to prove to you that, if not a lady, I am a woman.

  “I would do that now.” She let the drying cloth fall to the floor, holding his gaze as the linen pooled around her ankles. “I know a pagan marriage is not complete until we have lain with each other. I am not afraid. I desire you and wouldn’t wait any longer.”

  “Precious lass, you’ll bring me to my knees, again.” He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. Holding her close to his chest, he pulled back the covers with one hand and lowered her to the mattress as gently as if she were made of gossamer-spun angel wings.

  “I ken you’re aching from our journey.” He stepped back, drawing off his mail shirt. “I’m no’ sure suchlike is wise. No’ until—”

  “You won’t hurt me.” She could see his muscles beneath his linen undertunic. She shivered, deliciously. Her heart raced and she could feel her blood rushing, her entire body warming. How could he have even considered she’d be better off with a younger, less-roughened man? She didn’t want a boy. She wanted Grim, a battle-proven warrior who she knew would love as hard and fiercely as he fought. The night candle showed his form clearly, and having him almost naked before her thrilled her so much she couldn’t look away. She silently willed him to remove his last bits of clothes.

  She was naked, after all.

  Though he had flipped the bed clothes back up to cover her, a gallant when she wanted a rogue.

  She knew with a woman’s instinct that he burned for her. His gaze seared her skin and she’d seen his eyes darken when she’d dropped the drying cloth. She was also aware of the hard length of him beneath his hose, the thickness and size of him making her belly flutter. A man couldn’t hide his desire and Grim’s was blatant, the large bulge and its meaning unmistakable.

  Yet something held him back.

  “You said you love me, yet you suggest we wait to join our bodies,” Breena voiced her concern, needing this night to be perfect, magical. “I have shared my feelings, so—”

  “Are you no’ afraid?” His dear face looked concerned in the soft light of the candle. “If you’ve one care, a single worry, tell me and I’ll kiss each one away until nary a troublesome thought remains.”

  It was then that she knew what bothered him.

  Why he hesitated to claim her.

  “Ralla and his men never truly touched me.” She lifted up on her elbows, uncaring that the bed coverlet slipped down to reveal her breasts. Indeed, she was glad to display them. Having him look at her with love and appreciation warmed her to the core, even curling her toes, so good was the feeling.

  Emboldened, she brushed the covering aside, freeing herself entirely to his view. “They may have used me, even taking my innocence, but they didn’t touch me, inhabit my heart and soul.

  “No man has ever done that, though I am waiting for you to do so.” She let her gaze flick to his manhood, straining against his hose, and oh so prominent. “I know you want me. Then take me, Grim. Please.”

  “If I even lay a finger to you there’ll be no’ stopping me.” He stepped closer to the bed, slowly shaking his head as he approached. His gray eyes were dark as charcoal as he looked over every bared inch of her. He let his gaze drift from her toes to her face and back down again, lingering along the way at the places she knew men most appreciated. “You are lovelier than winter’s first delicate snowflakes and I fear I may crush you, but—” he broke off, staring as she deliberately parted her knees, knowing what he’d see.

  She couldn’t believe her daring.

  But she wouldn’t let this night pass without their sealing their vows, and doing so properly.

  “Bluidy hell!” His gaze locked on the wedge of red curls she’d revealed. The fierceness of his expression almost scorched her.

  She bit back a smile, shifting so her thighs opened a bit more.

  Doing so was her first line of offense, a seduction trick she’d once overheard in Ireland when she’d happened to stand near two joy women at a country fair. Apparently it worked, for Grim actually growled, making an almost feral sound deep in his chest as he reached up and yanked off his undertunic. He cast it aside and quick
ly removed his boots. Then he shoved down his hose until he was as naked as she was.

  In a flash, he was on the bed beside her, pulling her into his arms and kissing her ravenously. It was a bold, openmouthed kiss and he thrust his tongue deep, plundering her lips as if he drank her in, taking life-bringing sustenance from their shared breath and the heated swirls of their tongues.

  “Don’t stop kissing me, please.” Breena clung to him, pulling back only long enough to voice her wish against his beard. “I couldn’t bear it.”

  “Lovely minx, I would kiss every inch of you and then start all over again when I’m done.” He smoothed his big warm hand up and down her side, his tongue now tangling even more languorously with hers. When he cupped her breast, rolling his thumb back and forth over its tip, she would’ve cried out at the pleasure if she hadn’t wanted him to keep kissing her.

  “I’ll kiss you always, my love,” he promised, as if he’d heard her thoughts. “Even when I am in you, indeed, I’ll kiss you most thoroughly then.”

  “I’m on fire now.” She was, for he’d captured her wrists in one hand, lifting her arms over her head. He stopped kneading her breasts and let that hand glide lower, down the smooth expanse of her belly, and to the wondrous place that tingled so deliciously. “I can’t bear any more—”

  “Aye, you can.” He locked gazes with her as he skimmed his fingers oh-so-lightly over her feminine curls. Not quite touching her, but so close to doing so that each pass of his stroking fingertips was the most exquisite torment. “A woman should aye be caressed into pleasure.” He cupped her then, squeezing slightly, the unexpected pressure so heady, so incredibly pleasurable, that she rocked her hips, needing more, aching for something both urgent and indescribable. “Only when you are well and truly ready, will I take you, my heart.”

  “I want you now.” Breena bit her lip, tingling warmth spooling everywhere. He kept circling his fingers over her, so gently the sensations were both maddeningly pleasing and wickedly frustrating. His touch was deliberate and light, his hand working magic, taking her higher and higher into a glorious realm that was surely the home of angels.