by Mariah Stone
Inverlochy Castle, three months later…
* * *
Owen paced the underground storeroom. He threw periodic glances at the rock.
“The damned rock,” he mumbled.
He’d been visiting here every day since he came to Inverlochy a moon ago. And every day, it remained still and refused to bring Amber back.
A nerve on Owen’s cheekbone kept twitching. Could he do something? What?
He’d asked that question hundreds of times every day since Amber left. And the answer was always the same. Nothing. He couldn’t do a damn thing to help her or to find out if she’d been successful in her mission.
And even if she had been successful, what if she’d changed her mind? What if she’d decided he wasn’t worth leaving her comfortable and safe life in the future for?
A hundred knives carved into his heart at the thought. Even though he’d told Amber he was happy to wait, he hated feeling like this. Helpless. At her mercy. At the mercy of destiny.
His whole happiness depended on this rock. This silent, cold stone. He never felt this helpless and distraught.
He stopped himself from kicking the damn thing and walked out of the storeroom. He climbed the stairs and came out into the courtyard.
It was winter now, and the ground was covered with a thick layer of snow. The atmosphere had changed in Inverlochy since the Bruce had won the Pass of Brander. There were no more enemies in Scotland.
The MacDougalls had run to England, so had the MacDowells of Galloway, and the Comyns. There was still no peace with England, but that was a distant threat now. The Bruce had relaxed his forces in Inverlochy, and there were less soldiers here now, though the castle was still fortified and prepared for whatever was to come.
The Bruce had delivered on his promise and bestowed all MacDougall lands to the Cambel clan, which had suddenly made his family one of the most powerful clans in Scotland. Like the Bruce had promised, Owen had received an estate in Lorne, which he still hadn’t visited. As soon as he’d gotten better, he’d ridden to Inverlochy. There was no treasure or estate in the world that would make him miss the arrival of his bride.
After Kenneth’s death, Alexander MacKinnon became the constable of the castle, and allied clan members could come here for a rest during their travels.
Owen marched through the courtyard to the opposite wall. He suggested that while he was living here and waiting for Amber, he’d serve as the part of the garrison. The air was crisp, and the sky was blue and cloudless. The sun shone brightly, and the snow was such a brilliant white that Owen squinted as it hurt his eyes.
He entered the tower to climb the stairs and walk onto the wall to keep watch. Despite the more relaxed situation, they still needed to keep an eye out for any threats. Who knew if the English would decide to attack. There was no signed peace treaty yet.
Angus and Raghnall Mackenzie came to stand next to him. They watched the white vastness of the Highlands spreading before them and exchanged a few words. Then Raghnall glanced behind Owen, and a look of surprise and admiration appeared on his face. With a tightening in his heart, Owen turned.
His heart stopped. She stood there before him, alive and well and more beautiful than he remembered. She was dressed in a long, woolen cloak trimmed with fur. Under it, she had on men’s clothes: leather breeches that hugged her legs and tall boots. She wore a white woolen hat, and a single braid came out from under it.
Her big, slanted eyes were misted with tears. “Owen…” she whispered, and he felt like his body was filled with air instead of blood, and he was about to soar.
With the brightest smile, she crossed the space between them. But before she could hug him, she slipped right before him. She was about to fall, but he caught her and held her close to him.
“Thanks,” she muttered. “Damn ice.”
Without another word, and without paying attention to the Mackenzies and others staring from the courtyard, he brought her closer and hugged her.
His bride…
“Lass,” he whispered, inhaling her delicious scent, that exotic, mysterious sweetness of spices and fruit he only knew from her.
She felt both strong and fragile in his arms. She wrapped hers around his neck, and he felt something warm and wet against his cheek.
He looked at her without letting her go. She was crying. “Amber?”
“I’m okay,” she said. “I’m just so happy to see you… There were moments I thought I’d never— And I thought maybe you’d change your—”
He swallowed her words with his kiss, plunging into the delicious feast of her lips. The world stopped existing, everything disappeared except for him and his bonnie bride. She softened against him, setting his blood ablaze. He deepened the kiss, hungry for her, his heart beating painfully hard.
When he broke away, and she sagged against him, breathing harder, he said, “I was going mad waiting for ye. What took ye so long?”
She shook her head once and chuckled. “You know, trying not to get caught…or killed. Jackson almost choked me to death.”
Owen felt blood leave his face. “What?”
She grinned. “It’s okay. I won. You saved my life, again. I heard your voice in my head, and it gave me the strength to fight. I kicked him in the balls. He’s in prison now. So whatever you did telepathically, thanks.”
“Ye’re welcome, lass. Didna ken I did anything except tear my hair off my head. Any longer, and ye may have come back to a bald man.”
“I’ll take you in any shape and form.”
“I almost kicked the rock into dust in frustration. ’Tis probably a trench down there in the underground storeroom where I paced daily.”
She laughed, and the sound reverberated in his chest, melting the last tensions, reservations, and fears. She was truly here, truly in his arms.
“Come, lass.” He took her by the hand and led her down the stairs. “Ye must be freezing. I’ll warm ye up. There are less warriors in the castle now, so more spare rooms. The constable gave me a bedchamber, so ye and I have plenty of time together alone.”
They climbed down the stairs and reached the courtyard.
“I’m so glad you waited,” she said.
He looked around to see if anyone was watching, then he slowly ran his hand down her cloak and took a handful of her arse, though it was mostly fabric. “Let me greet ye properly, like I’ve wanted to all this time without ye.”
“And you think I’ll just stay with you in the same room without being married?”
He stopped and stared at her in astonishment. “What?”
“Just kidding.”
He shook his head, and in one swift movement, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. Amber squealed and beat against his back with her fists. Without a care about who saw them, he clapped her arse. “Jesting, huh? Dinna give me—what did ye call it—a heart attack?”
“Let me down!”
“In a moment, lass. When ye’re in my bedchamber, and I’ve barred the door. I wilna let ye out even if the English come knocking again.”
He reached the small tower and quickly climbed the stairs to the first floor with his bonnie, precious load on his shoulder. Inverlochy Castle was a royal castle, and Owen took her to the room designated for honorable guests. It was where the Bruce would sleep should he come to stay. A fire burned in the fireplace, and it was warm and dry in the room. He set her down on the bed and stretched on top of her.
“I missed ye, lass.”
She ran her fingers through his hair. “I missed you, too.”
He kissed her deeply, settling his weight between her legs. He was already hard and aching for her. He undid the fastening on her cloak.
“Was it hard to say goodbye? To leave everything behind?”
She bit her lip. It was swollen from the kiss, and he ached to take it between his own teeth.
“My brother Jonathan helped me clear my name. Without him, it would never have worked.”
“Aye. Kin.�
��
“While we worked together, we grew closer than we’ve ever been. In the end, it was hard.”
“Did ye tell him ye were marrying a man born hundreds of years ago?”
Her smile was sad. “No. He’d put me in a hospital for the mentally ill or something.”
“So what did ye say?”
“I said I was going to travel the world. Then I arranged for my aunt Christel, who lives near Inverlochy, to send him a letter a year from now that explains the truth. I wrote that he may think I’m insane, but he should know I’m happy, and that I found love. And that love is worth going crazy for.”
He kissed her again, loving her, appreciating her like never before. He kissed her chin, then down her neck, inhaling her scent as though he wanted to make her a part of his bloodstream. He ran his hands down her body, undid the belt on her tunic, and went under it with his hands, brushing his fingers up her soft skin.
She cocked her head back and arched a little into his touch. He pulled her tunic up and marveled at her beautiful body.
“How lucky I am.” He kissed the lower parts of her breast. “Ye’re a woman like nae other. Made of pure wonder and brought to me through time by magic.”
She stilled, looking at him with something like reverence in her big eyes.
“Mine,” he whispered through a hard knot in his throat. “Ye’re my wonder.”
She sniffled a little, and he came back to her breasts. “So beautiful,” he said and took her nipple in his mouth.
He sucked and licked it, fondling the other one with his fingers.
“So soft,” he whispered, tracing his lips down her stomach.
“So delicious.” He undid the fastening of her breeches and pulled them down, then with some difficulty unlaced her boots and pulled them off, too. He stared in awe at her graceful hips, at her stomach, and at the triangle of dark hair in the apex of her thighs.
His cock twitched, hardening and aching. He pulled her breeches off, nested between her spread legs, and slowly kissed her thigh from knee up to her groin while kneading and massaging the other thigh. She rewarded him with a low, sweet moan and the curling of her toes. He reached her sex and inhaled her scent, so feminine and deliciously wanton.
Desire for her set his blood on fire. He spread her folds and put his mouth on her sex, licking and suckling her sensitive bud. She was already wet and tasted divine.
She started making small whimpers of need, like a kitten, and he felt a surge of a male satisfaction that he was the one giving her this pleasure. He wanted to give her more. He wanted to give her everything.
To be everything for her.
Everything she’d ever want and need.
He inserted a finger inside her warm wetness, and she clenched around him. He craved for her to clench like that around his erection, to plunge into her silky depths and feel that she was his. That she belonged to him.
He began moving his finger in and out of her, but she suddenly sat up. She was flushed, and her full lips were parted. She panted, her eyelids half closed, her eyes like a dark night.
“No,” she said. “That won’t do.”
“Nae?”
“You. I want you. Not your finger. Inside. Now.”
He shook his head with a soundless laugh. “Happy to oblige, lass.”
He pulled the tunic over his head and unfastened his breeches. She eyed him with appreciation, her gaze moving slowly up and down his body. He loomed over her, his hands on either side of her head, and supported himself on straight arms. “Lass, stop looking at me like I’m food, or I’ll blush,” he purred.
“You’re better than food.” She slapped him on his arse and pressed on his hips, urging him to come closer. “You taste better, and nothing brings me as much pleasure as you.” She dug her fingernails in his arse. “Now prove it.”
“I’ll need to talk to ye about yer manners.” He palmed his erection, but she brushed his hand away and took his cock in her hand. She positioned his tip against her entrance, and he groaned from the hot, wet feel of her.
“Is yer back healed enough for this?” he said.
“Yes, it’s fine.” She wriggled against him, her sleek movements driving him wild. “Your leg?”
“I’ll live.”
“Good. Now take me.”
He looked deeply into her eyes. It was amazing how much they’d survived together. How much they’d both changed. And how much happiness there was still to come.
He thrust into her, pleasure shooting from his toes to the very tips of his hair. She moaned and arched her back, closing her eyes. She clung to him, wrapping her arms around him, her fingers digging into his muscles.
He started thrusting into her, his desire wild and hot. He was as deep as he could go. She wrapped her legs around him, and he buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent. He breathed heavily, unevenly, his heartbeat erratic.
She wriggled under him, meeting each thrust like a perfect wave. They climbed towards the climax together, sweat misting their skin. Her moans of pleasure spurred his own hunger. Her head was thrown back against the mattress.
And then he was there. He arrived at the peak with her, bucked and lost himself into her body, wild and furious waves of pleasure crushing him. He dug his fingers into her hips, feeling her clenching and unclenching around him, her body shuddering and tensing under him. She cried out his name like a prayer, and he tried to hold on to the reality that this divine woman, a goddess from another time, was his.
This happiness, this expansion of his heart and whole body, was going to be his future. His love for her opened him up and filled his heart.
She was his first love. She was the first woman to touch his heart. And as long as they both lived, his heart would whisper her name with its every beat.
Epilogue
Six months later…
* * *
The road was quickly disappearing under the horses’ hooves. Amber thought that the Pass of Brander couldn’t be more beautiful in this weather. Owen rode next to her and eyed everything with a relaxed alertness, ready for any threat.
The summer was warm, and the sky was blue, the sun making the colors around them more vivid and bright. River Awe was brilliant, almost sapphire blue, and the mountains around them were lush with greenery. A breeze touched her skin and brought the scent of river water, grass, and flowers. The air was alive with birdsong and leaves rustling in the wind. The river murmured to their right.
They were on their way from Owen’s new estate, Kinleith, where they’d spent the winter and spring, to Glenkeld. After that, they would continue down south. They had no destination and no goal. Amber suggested they might travel around Europe, and Owen, who’d never been anywhere apart from Scotland, loved the idea.
The secret of Amber’s real origin, as well as Amy’s and Kate’s, was kept safely within a close group of people. The past six months had been blindingly happy. She’d never thought she could be this happy. Ever.
And now that she knew she could stand up for herself and those she loved, now that she knew how David must have felt when he confronted Goliath, she knew she and Owen could do anything as long as they were together.
And they decided what they wanted together was adventure.
They got married on his new estate a month after she arrived back. Although she didn’t want to live the life of a housewife, she’d enjoyed a few months of her and Owen in their own little cocoon, settling in the new house, and starting things their own way.
She’d bought a few books on ancient clocks and clockmaking back in the twenty-first century. Mechanical clocks had just recently been invented and were expensive and only available in cities. Amber was curious to see if she could make one of her own. Making clocks meant reconnecting to her mom. She knew that every time she worked on one, her mother would be right there with her.
When they descended from the Pass of Brander and reached the flat, sandy shore of Loch Awe, Owen said, “Do you feel like making a stop? I�
�ll catch ye a nice fish and roast it over the fire.”
She knew that tone. That little smirk in his voice meant he had something in mind. Something she’d love, and he didn’t want to spoil the surprise. She knew that was the perfect moment to play along.
“A nice roasted fish sounds great.”
They dismounted the horses and settled on the small beach. Owen started a fire and began undressing, and Amber stilled, admiring his powerful body, his muscles playing as he moved. She’d been married to him for a while now, and still, every time she looked at his gorgeous, hard body, he stole her breath away.
He removed his pants, too, and glanced at her over his shoulder.
“I don’t think you need to be that naked to fish.” Amber chuckled. “Though I’m not complaining.”
He walked to her, and she admired his long legs coiled with muscle. “Come swim with me.”
Amber stood up. “Swim? I don’t really feel like it. The water must be cold.”
“I’ll warm ye up, lass, dinna fash.”
“No, thanks.” She took a step back. “I’m good and warm here.”
He stepped forward. “Lass…”
She squealed and darted. He reached her in two large steps and caught her by the waist. In a practiced move, he threw her over his shoulder and walked to the water.
“No, Owen! I don’t want to change! Owen, no…”
He walked into the water until it reached his ankles and then stopped. “If ye dinna want to get wet, ye better undress, lass. Either way, ye’re going into the water with me. I have something in mind that ye’ll love.”
She grunted through a smile. “All right, all right. There’s no changing your mind, you stubborn Scot.”
“’Tis exactly right.” He put her back on the shore, and she undressed under his watchful eye. She didn’t need to worry about the cold. The sun was warm, but mostly, the heat in Owen’s gaze was enough to make her feel like she were on fire.
“Good lass.” He smacked her on her behind possessively, and she hid her smile from the look of male pride on his face. “Come on.” He picked her up and took her into his arms like she weighed nothing. With a satisfied grin on his face, he walked into the loch.