Highlands Forever Collection: A Highlander Romance Bundle

by Violetta Rand

  Petro sighed and lowered his voice. “Alex gave me specific instructions. If Master Jamie refuses to do his duty by showing up for this celebration, then the honor of being the children’s godfather is no longer his. In that case, Laird Alex has asked me to be their godfather.”

  Helen considered Petro. The Italian scholar served a very important role for the MacKays. On numerous occasions, Laird Alex had praised him. He seemed a suitable replacement for Jamie. Someone who could teach the children much about the world. “Congratulations on such an honor,” Helen sincerely offered.

  “What honor is that?” a familiar voice asked.

  Helen’s heart nearly stopped as she turned to find Jamie in the antechamber. He looked different, well rested. Clean shaven and with his shoulder-length hair pulled back in a queue, he appeared the part of a high-ranking Highland warrior. He, too, wore a newer black and blue MacKay tartan over a fresh linen shirt. But his handsome features were not enough to cool her temper. His sudden appearance dinna make up for what he had done to her or Alex and Keely.

  “Master Jamie,” Petro said, looking shocked. “Laird Alex and Lady Keely should be informed of your presence.”

  A boyish smile lit Jamie’s face. “And ruin a happy surprise, Petro?” Then he turned to Helen, that same grin threatening to shatter her defenses. “Lady Helen.” He bowed low. “Forgive my impudence. I overreacted after our conversation the other day…”

  Why did he emphasize the word conversation like that? Twas the kisses that undid him, not their words. Afraid he might say too much in front of everyone, she cut him off. “There is no need to apologize, Master Jamie. Not to me.”

  He winked. “I am a simple man.”

  Even angry, it still warmed her heart to see him again, though she’d never admit it to Jamie. She shook her head. “Ye are nay a simple man.”

  “Master Jamie? Lady Helen?” Petro interrupted. “It is time to take the babes to Father Michael. Our guests are growing restless.”

  Helen held Jamie’s gaze. “No one thought ye would come,” she said. “Laird Alex was forced to name another man as godfather.”

  The news made Jamie scowl. “Who?”

  Helen gestured at Petro. “An appointment I am sure he dinna want,” she whispered.

  “Well…”

  “Master Jamie,” Petro said more forcefully, then signaled for the nurses to bring the bairns to them. “Helen, ye take Rebecca. Jamie, hold John.”

  Once Helen lifted the pretty babe in her arms, nothing else mattered. The twins represented a new chance for Clan MacKay, a happy future.

  “Walk side by side to Father Michael,” Petro instructed. “And once you reach him, he will pray and then bless the children. He will ask you both to take a vow of protection, swearing to look after the spiritual needs and welfare of John and Rebecca. Do you both accept these terms?”

  Jamie stared long and hard at Helen. “No matter how many times I run away from ye, Helen of the Highlands, it seems the Almighty brings me back.”

  Heat spiraled down her body. How could he say such a thing in the open? Who had overheard him? She nervously looked about. Petro seemed to be the only one listening, for musicians were playing inside the great hall—a fortunate distraction.

  “We will make a formidable team,” Jamie added, his red eyebrows lifted in question. “Do ye agree?”

  “A MacKay and a Sutherland?” she said. “Miracles can happen if the beneficiaries of God’s grace are worthy.”

  Jamie threw his head back and laughed. “Then ye will be the only one blessed with a miracle, for I am a lowly Highland beast, Helen, with only one thing on my mind.”

  His lighthearted expression changed into something she’d rather not see, not have to acknowledge. His blue eyes blazed with hunger.

  Petro coughed exaggeratedly. “There is time enough later for the two of you to make amends.”

  “All right,” Jamie said, hugging wee John to his chest. “Aye, I swear to protect these children with my life.”

  But somehow, even though Jamie said these children, Helen guessed he meant to protect her, too.

  Chapter Seventeen

  After the children were held by nearly every guest and sent abovestairs to sleep, the celebration continued well into the night. Even Lady Helen seemed to forget the tight control she had been exercising over herself and drank more wine than Jamie ever guessed she could. If he were less of a man, one with only his own interests at heart, he would take that beautiful woman abovestairs and undress her, lay her down on that bed fit for a queen in her chamber, and love her until she screamed his name, until she couldna walk, until she couldna imagine living without waking up to him every morn.

  Fook. He wanted Helen Sutherland. In bed. In his heart. In life. But the lass dinna belong to him. According to her sire, she belonged to Baran Munroe—a man better off dead. A man who deserved to feel the fatal strike of Jamie’s sword for killing his past wives. And Jamie, no matter the consequences, would make sure Helen never married the bastard. Never, he repeated a thousand times in his head as he watched Helen finish dancing with one of Alex’s soldiers.

  She had been in high demand tonight. The soft light of the candles, the excellent food and drink, the melodic music that could tame the wildest creature, that kind of fae magic did things to a man’s mind. And any one of these virile MacKay warriors would die for a night with Helen.

  Jamie sucked down the rest of his ale. He’d been unusually careful about how much he had drunk. He couldna afford to lose his sharpness of mind again, not with Helen’s future at stake. Not with his sanity already in question.

  “What is it?” Keely asked, reaching over and patting his hand. “Thank ye for coming back in time.”

  “Tis nothing,” he said. “John and Rebecca are lovely bairns, Keely. Ye saved our clan.” He kissed her cheek.

  “I know ye well, Jamie MacKay. Something isna right. And unless ye tell me, I will haunt yer days and nights until ye give me the truth.”

  God help him, now he had two women to make his life difficult. “I left here with the intention of not coming back until Helen Sutherland was gone.”

  Strangely, Keely dinna look surprised. “What changed yer mind? And doona use my babes as an excuse.”

  Jamie leaned back in his chair, reluctant to say exactly what he felt. But Keely wasna a maiden, and she would understand. “I havena been a saint, Keely.”

  His confession made her smile. “What MacKay is?”

  “I love women.”

  “Aye.”

  “They love me.”

  “Ye’re arrogant, Jamie.”

  “Maybe a wee bit,” he admitted. “I tried to bed one of my maids after I went home.”

  “What do ye mean, tried?”

  Why in the name of all that was holy did she have to ask that question? Couldna she figure it out without further explanation? He leaned closer to his cousin-by-marriage. “I kissed her, but it dinna please me.”

  “Nay?”

  “Are ye toying with me, Keely?”

  “Nay. I am just proud of ye.”

  Women never failed to confuse him. She approved of the fact that he had kissed another lass? How could that be, when Jamie was certain Helen had confided in Keely about their intimacy at the loch.

  “Ye need to talk to Helen, nay me. But I give ye fair warning, Jamie, as I know my husband has done. She’s a fragile lass, unsure about herself and the future. Doona lead her down a false path. Give her the truth.”

  Jamie could keep that promise. “I will.”

  *

  Helen relied on Keith MacKay to get her safely back to the high table. She couldna remember a more joyous occasion than tonight, where she actually felt like she was part of something real, not just on display to help her father get what he wanted. Those precious babes gave her hope for her own future. And she wanted to forget about the truth for a little while.

  Once she was back at the high table, seated between Keely and Jamie, she gig
gled like a wee girl.

  “And what trouble have ye been stirring up, Helen?” Keely asked playfully.

  “Me?” She put her hand to her chest. “None that I know of.”

  Jamie remained silent as he eyed her and took a drink of ale.

  “Keith MacKay is verra pleasant to talk to,” Helen said. “And so is Magnus and Ross…”

  Jamie set his drinking vessel on the table with some force. “It seems ye leave me with little choice, Helen Sutherland.”

  “What do ye mean?” she asked innocently.

  Jamie stood and offered her his hand. “If I doona dance with ye, all ye’ll remember about tonight is all of them.”

  Nothing could be further from the truth. The women had warned her that Jamie dinna dance. And because she wanted to enjoy herself, she decided to dance until she couldna stay on her feet any more. Regrettably, it wasna her feet failing her at the moment, but her head. She realized she’d drunk too much wine.

  “Jamie. If ye spin me too quick, I’m afraid I will fall over.”

  He laughed. “Aye? Well, perhaps some fresh air would be better.” Hoping she’d go with him, Jamie met Miran’s watchful gaze. The maid always seemed to be less than a stride behind Lady Helen, probably doing exactly what Alex had commanded her to do.

  “A walk? In the snow?”

  “Ye love the cold.”

  “I do,” she confirmed.

  “Jamie,” Keely said. “Maybe Lady Helen should go abovestairs?”

  “Nay.” Helen reached for a piece of bread, and then took a hearty bite. “Doona worry about me, Keely. Master Jamie willna let anyone harm me, will ye?”

  His familiar smirk returned. “Rest assured, the only threat to ye in this keep is me.”

  Now Helen knew she wasna thinking clearly, for his words thrilled her in a dangerous way, a forbidden way. She wanted another kiss. She wanted to run her fingertips over the contours of his strong body, to breathe in his masculine scent, hear his breathy whispers in her ear, and feel his excitement. She closed her eyes tight, remembering what she thought she had felt at the loch when she was sitting on Jamie’s lap. God forgive her.

  “Lass?” Jamie asked, his voice tinged with worry. “Are ye unwell?”

  “Nay.” She opened her eyes and focused on his face. “Memories, nothing more.”

  “Pleasant ones, I hope.”

  Her skin prickled with need. “Verra.”

  “Then do ye accept my invitation for a walk?”

  She felt suddenly sober and aware of what he was asking. The walk dinna matter to him. He wanted the same as her, to find another fleeting moment to escape to a private place together. And Helen would be damned if anyone robbed her of that chance. After all, it could be their last meeting. “Aye.” She stood and faced Keely. “Thank ye for letting me be a part of the bairns’ lives, yer life.”

  “Go,” Keely encouraged her friend. “Take advantage of the time ye have, while everyone is celebrating and not watching.”

  Helen kissed her cheeks with the deepest affection, then followed Jamie through the crowded hall, headed for the main doors.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Once they escaped the confines of the hall and Jamie knew that Miran wasn’t trailing behind them, instead of leaving the keep, he steered Helen through the antechamber, out a small door, and down a narrow passageway that opened into the buttery and several other storage rooms. He randomly picked one and opened the door, gently pushing her inside, and closing the door behind them.

  He could smell herbs and eyed the barrels and other containers within the small space. Several sconces with lit candles provided enough light to see. A couple of chairs were arranged in the corner, a place for the women to sit who sorted and dried the herbs for the household. He could have chosen a worse hiding spot. The surroundings dinna matter; only she did.

  He gazed at her, noticing her wide, blue eyes, her quivering lips, the need on her face. How would he feel standing in her shoes? A stranger in his home, no family to protect her, nothing familiar. And to make her situation even more complicated, an inexperienced maiden who only Jamie had kissed.

  The answer came quickly. But not a humble one.

  “Why are ye smiling like that?” she asked.

  God’s bones, he couldna hide his pride. “I was thinking about ye and how it must feel to be away from home and here alone with me.”

  “Aye? And what have ye concluded?”

  “If I were ye, Helen of the Highlands, I’d fall in love with me, too.”

  She ventured a sideways glance at him, quiet at first, as still as a winter night. Then, suddenly, she laughed so hard she had to sit and hug herself.

  Jamie dinna see anything funny about what he had said. He frowned. “This is my reward for being honest with ye?”

  Little by little she calmed down, until only a little gasp of breath escaped her lips. “I-I… Ye made me laugh harder than I ever have. Ye are the most arrogant rogue I have ever met, Jamie MacKay. Ye strut about this keep like a rooster surrounded by a flock of wanton hens.”

  “A rooster?”

  “Aye. With a red crown.”

  Jamie smoothed a hand over his hair. “Ye doona like my red hair?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Tis a part of ye.”

  “What are ye saying to me, Helen?” He moved closer.

  “Can ye nay figure it out? With yer abundant experiences with women? All the places ye’ve visited? All the men ye’ve fought and killed?”

  Jamie knelt in front of her. “Is that what ye see me as?”

  “I see what ye are in this moment. A man as afraid of what he feels as I am of what I feel. There is no difference between us—even if ye had bedded a queen in Constantinople, she couldna have touched yer heart as I have.”

  Struck by her confidence and understanding, he simply gazed up at her in awe. This maiden had indeed brought him to his sinner’s knees. But he wouldna seek redemption yet, for he wanted to sin even more with her. To stare at her forever, to memorize everything about her beautiful face, to know what her future dreams were, and to set about making them all come true.

  Jamie curled a finger under her chin and tilted her head from left to right. The candlelight illuminated her fair skin in the most appealing way. And her mane of gold-spun hair—this was the first time he’d seen it’s full length. It cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. He couldna resist the impulse to touch it and chose a curly tendril near her cheek. “Bòidheach,” he whispered. More beautiful than the Rionnag Tuath or the deep-blue sea bordering the desert oasis of Constantinople.

  “No man has ever called me beautiful before.” A single tear trailed down her cheek. He moved to catch it, but she blocked his hand. “Nay. I doona cry out of hurt but for joy.” She wiped the tear away on her own. “After my mother died, many women came and went who were tasked with tutoring me—some kind, some cruel. All taught me modesty, to never stare too long in the looking glass to avoid ending up a vain woman that no respectable man would want to marry.”

  “Fools,” he said, caressing her cheek.

  “Would ye rather me doubt the sincerity of yer praise or receive it as ye would—puffed up like a wee rooster?”

  Jamie snorted, and then they both laughed.

  He cradled her hands in his. “I owe ye an apology for going away without explanation.”

  She appeared to weigh his words. “Why did ye leave?”

  “There is something special between us, Helen. I canna say with certainty what it is or how long it will last, but I know my life will never be the same for it. Tis a hard thing for a man like me to admit. So instead of facing it, I decided to try and outrun it.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Not a damn bit.” He let go of her hands, raising her right wrist to his lips, kissing the inside of it, tasting the tender flesh.

  She released a small moan from deep within her throat. So, he tested the depth of her passion by blazing a trail of feather-light kisses up her ar
m. She shivered and leaned forward in the chair.

  “Jamie,” she breathed.

  “Aye?” He dinna want to stop kissing and touching her.

  “My body…”

  “What, lass?”

  Her eyelashes fluttered and she gazed down at him. “Is this the rare gift a man and woman share?”

  “It’s passion, Helen—a very special gift, indeed.”

  “I doona like how it makes me feel inside.”

  “Nay? Inside here?” He pointed to her head.

  She rewarded his foolishness with a half-smile. “Nay, not my head.”

  “Here?” He placed his hand over her heart and felt the thumping against her chest. Was she afraid of being alone with him? “What about here?” This time, he nudged her knees apart and lifted the hem of her gown to reveal her slim legs.

  Helen’s eyes squeezed shut as she eased back in the chair.

  “Lass?”

  “Aye,” she whispered. “Ye know the answer, Jamie.”

  And he did. Temptation wielded a superior sword to Jamie’s resolve. He knew if he just lifted the skirt a wee bit higher, he’d see paradise. He imagined a crown of golden curls and folds of soft, wet flesh. He could take her now. Love her until morning’s light, then quickly get her abovestairs before anyone noticed she was missing. Hadn’t Keely given her approval? Alex, even?

  Christ above! Jamie lowered her skirt and instead, gripped her by the hips and tugged her downward and onto his lap. She straddled him, and he placed a hand at the back of her neck, pulling her face level with his.

  “Kiss me, Helen.”

  She slanted her mouth over his, giving him exactly what he wanted. Her silky tongue tangled with his, and he deepened the kiss. If this was all they were ever to share, he’d make damn sure she never forgot him. In fact, he wanted to burn the image of them together into her memory. Who would she think about when Baran Munroe claimed her maidenhead…

  Filled with jealousy, Jamie growled and flipped Helen underneath him. He hovered above her, unable to hide his excitement. She stared with utter fascination at the tent his erection made in his tartan.