Highlands Forever Collection: A Highlander Romance Bundle

Home > Other > Highlands Forever Collection: A Highlander Romance Bundle > Page 50
Highlands Forever Collection: A Highlander Romance Bundle Page 50

by Violetta Rand


  “I think it’s a fine idea,” Mary said, beaming at Miran. “It will solve all of the problems we discussed earlier, aye?”

  “Tis foolish to think Jamie will approve of us marrying away from Sands Airgid,” Miran said.

  “I believe it is necessary, Miran.” Kai sounded serious. “Father Donald, I believe we have sinned in the eyes of God.”

  “Oh?” the priest said. “In what way?”

  “Well…”

  Miran wedged herself between Kai and the holy man. “The captain isna well-versed in our language, Father Donald. What I think he means to say, is, we are eager to start our lives together as man and wife.” She glared at Kai.

  “Ah. Ye must guard yerselves against sins of the flesh. Tis better to marry than burn. And marriage is a holy covenant, set between man and woman…”

  “I believe you might want to see this.” Kai offered the priest a missive with the MacKay seal on it.

  Father Donald unrolled the scroll and read whatever was written on it. “This is all the proof I require. Master Fraser, Mistress Mary, are ye opposed to sharing yer daughter’s wedding day with this couple?”

  “Not at all,” Fraser said with enthusiasm. “I am ever hopeful our children,” he motioned between himself and the Kinnears, “and Lady Miran and the captain will not only find happiness but will aid each other in living within the Almighty’s grace. For after tomorrow, Rossa and Craig will be leaving us and going to Sands Airgid to serve the MacKays.”

  While the priest kept talking, Kai allowed Miran to pull him aside for the sake of privacy. “What is it?”

  “What do ye have there?” She pointed to the missive.

  “Do you wish to see it?”

  She tapped her foot impatiently. “If ye doona let me, I will make ye eat it.”

  His fiery Highland lass filled him with immeasurable amusement whenever she got impatient and demanding. “Take it, then.”

  She snatched it from his hand. “This is a marriage contract!”

  “Aye.”

  “Already signed by ye and Jamie!”

  “Aye.”

  “Ye tricked me.”

  “Nay.”

  “Ye had this planned all along, to seduce me.”

  “Nay, to win your love.”

  She lifted her serious green eyes to meet his. “I doona know whether to hit ye or kiss ye.”

  “I will let you choose.”

  Her jaws clenched. “Ye are a maddening man.”

  He bowed then, sweeping his arm over his head, then lower. “I am your humble servant, Lady Miran.”

  She tossed her head from side to side, that heat he craved lighting her eyes. “All right, Captain, I will marry ye.”

  As Kai grinned at her, he caught Mary whispering something to one of her sons. The boy nodded and quickly departed the cottage. Kai did not say anything, he simply acknowledged her help in getting Miran to agree to taking vows tonight with a nod. Whatever the woman had said, it had worked in his favor. He would not forget her, Fraser, or the beautiful village of Lagrith. All of their futures were intertwined, not only through the contract the elders had signed with Clan MacKay, but through the men and women they had pledged into service with Laird Jamie.

  Sometime later, Kai and Miran and Craig and Rossa knelt on pillows before Father Donald while he blessed them and prayed. Then they all stood and repeated the same wedding vows, promising to love each other forever.

  Kai did not care about the obey part—not at the moment—for all he could see, all he ever wanted, was the right to call Miran MacKay his own. And as she smiled softly up at him, her eyes full of the same love he felt for her, he leaned close to kiss her for the first time as his wife.

  Their lips touched, and his body ignited with every wicked sensation known to him. He wanted to hold and protect her, talk with her about anything she desired, and make love to her every night for the rest of their lives.

  As he broke the kiss and stepped back to regain his wits, Fraser stuck his hand out. “Congratulations, Captain Kai.”

  Kai took his hand.

  “And to ye, Lady Miran, I wish ye love and comfort.” Fraser kissed Miran’s cheek.

  “Thank ye,” she said.

  “Now, let us celebrate with the feast my wife and Mistress Kinnear have prepared.”

  Hours after eating and drinking their fill with nearly the best people Kai had ever met in the Highlands, Miran gave him a tired smile and yawned. Aye, twas time to go to bed. He stood and offered her his hand.

  The rest of the guests stopped talking and focused on Kai.

  “Thank you for sharing this special night with us, Craig and Rossa. Fraser and Mary, your generosity will never be forgotten. We have a lot to do tomorrow, so without further delay, we will retire for the night.”

  “Ye are always welcome here,” Fraser said. “I consider ye another son. My wife prepared yer bridal bed in the room in the stable. I hope ye find it comfortable.”

  Before she could refuse, Kai swept Miran into his arms and carried her outside and toward the stable. They had waited long enough for this night.

  *

  Standing in front of each other with only the light of candles and the brazier, Miran reached up and touched her handsome husband’s face. The day’s growth of dark stubble on his cheeks and chin made him even more exotic, more brutal looking, more desirable to her. He leaned into her hand, moaning as she traced his jawline with her fingertips. “Ye are everything I ever wanted, and some things I never thought I’d accept.’

  He laughed at that. “I could say the same of you, sweet one.”

  “Oh?”

  “Aye.”

  She dinna care, really, but liked to jest. Keeping her gaze on his face, she unclasped the MacKay brooch at his shoulder, letting part of his tartan fall away, revealing a broad shoulder. Then she lifted his linen shirt over his head, taking in his tanned skin, his sculpted chest, and the scars that he’d earned in battle. He was perfect in every way, powerful and intimidating, almost too beautiful to be real.

  “What is it, lass?” he said in that practiced brogue that made her shiver.

  “Ye are beautiful.”

  “Aye?” he asked.

  She dinna answer, but knelt to remove his boots, then his braes, which she struggled to unlace.

  “Let me.” He showed her how to tug on the leather lace just right.

  After he stood naked in front of her, his manhood thick and long and ready for her, she trembled.

  “We are made to fit together,” he said, caressing her face. “Will you let me show you?”

  She nodded and closed her eyes just as he started to undo the front laces on her gown. She helped him lift it over her head, then stood only in a thin shift.

  “You have lovely breasts,” he whispered, gently touching one of her sensitive, hard nipples through the material. “I love how they fill my hands while I kiss you.” And he did just that, stepping into her and covering her mouth with his.

  She felt adrift as he kissed her harder and deeper, than lifted her and carried her to the narrow bed they would share. “Miran,” he breathed her name. “I do not want to wait to be inside you.” He set her down.

  Miran kneeled in the middle of the bed and slipped the straps of the shift down her arms and wiggled out of it, revealing her flesh, unafraid to give herself to him. Strong fingers wandered down her arms, then slipped underneath one of her breasts. She closed her eyes just as his mouth took hers again, his tongue seeking hers, everything about him, his taste and smell, the feel of his calloused hands on her hot skin, and even the sound of his hitching breath, filled her senses.

  “Lie back, sweet one.”

  She slowly positioned herself in the middle of the soft mattress, her thighs opening for him.

  “Aye,” he growled, his piercing gaze sweeping over her, raising gooseflesh from her neck to her toes.

  He lowered his face between her legs, his tongue swirling over her folds, then penetrating her,
causing her to lift her hips off the bed, seeking more of him, all of him.

  “What do you want, Miran? My love. My wife?”

  He gazed up at her, a smug look on his face. How arrogant he was, proud that he had finally won her.

  “Ye are a scoundrel, Captain Kai. My beloved Prince Kuresh.”

  He growled, crawling up her body until his face hovered above hers. “Say it again.”

  “My beloved Prince Kuresh.” Her breasts ached for his touch, and her core, wet with desire, needed to be filled.

  He knew it all too well, and pressed his erection into her stomach, then slid lower, until she felt the tip of it at her opening.

  “Aye,” she whispered, raking her nails up his back, wild with need.

  “Aye? Tell me…”

  “I want ye.”

  He dipped down and kissed her feverishly, claiming her, while his hands slid between them, stroking her womanhood and then his shaft.

  “I love you, Miran.” His fingers dug into her hips as he entered her, slowly filling her.

  A pinch of pain radiated up her body and she went rigid.

  Kai framed her face between his hands. “Are ye all right?”

  “Aye.” She dinna fear what came next, he had been considerate and gentle with her body until now. “I want to feel all of ye, Kai. Please.”

  He made a strangled sound before he pumped his hips and buried himself in the heat of her body. She locked her ankles at the small of his back and held on for dear life. This man belonged to her now. How she had ever rejected him, she’d never understand.

  Perhaps she resented him at first for being able to read her emotions, to know what she needed more than the air she breathed. Him. Her Highland captain. Her own prince. A husband to love forever.

  But one thing was certain, Miran MacKay would never be alone again.

  THE END

  Excerpt from Unpredictable

  (Book 4)

  “Cacalay is just another bloody village as far as I can see,” Igor the pirate complained as he entered the tidy cottage where Tiva lived with her mother. “Look about, lads, an earthen floor, a rickety table and chairs, a crumbling hearth, though swept clean, a faded tapestry on the wall…” He stopped short when he found the mistress of the cottage standing in the corner shielding her child from view. “Who are ye, woman?”

  Tiva hugged her mam tightly from behind, afraid the wretched intruder would force them out of their home, or worse.

  “Be still,” her mother whispered, “I will deal with him.”

  “Speak!” Igor demanded.

  “Glynnis,” she answered, holding her head high.

  Igor stepped deeper into the thatched-roof home, his boots caked with mud. He eyed the black pot hanging over the fire and took a deep breath. “What are ye cooking?”

  “Stew.”

  “What kind of stew?”

  “Rabbit.”

  “Bring me the ladle with some broth in it, I will taste yer pottage.” He slid a chair from under the table and dragged it over to the front of the hearth and sat down.

  Tiva clung to her mother’s arm as she tried to move away. “Nay, mam. Stay here with me, please.”

  “Control yer offspring, woman, or I’ll be forced to put her out of her misery.”

  Tiva glared at the stranger, hating him from the moment he dared enter their cottage uninvited.

  “Tiva,” her mother said, “Ye must understand what is happening. If I doona do as this man says, he will burn our cottage down, or even worse, kill us.”

  Tiva’s shoulders drooped. “If Da were alive…”

  “Shh.” Her mother held a cautioning finger to her lips. “Let yer father live on in yer heart, but doona mention him aloud.”

  Hearing the desperation in her mother’s voice, she nodded and fell silent, watching as her brave mother did as asked, filling the ladle and offering it to the bearded man who smelled worse than a filthy chamber pot.

  Igor tasted the broth, then nodded in approval. “Ye are a fine cook. Bring me some more, this time with vegetables and plenty of meat. After I have finished, ye will feed my captains, then yerself and yer daughter.”

  Glynnis eyed the other men standing in the doorway, three of them, all tall and younger than Igor. Tiva knew they’d eat all of the food her mother had made, leaving nothing for them.

  After Glynnis curtsied and started to move away, Igor yanked her onto his lap.

  Tiva cringed at the sight of the greasy man’s hands all over her beautiful mother—she’d married younger than most and gotten with child. Sometimes Tiva considered her mam more of a sister. Regardless, twas only the two of them in the world to care for each other.

  “Ye feel good in me arms, woman.” Igor shoved Glynnis off his lap. “I need a new wife. Perhaps ye will be the lucky woman I choose.”

  “How many wives do ye have already?” Glynnis quipped.

  Afraid her mam had spoken out of line, Tiva covered her face with both hands, waiting for the sound of a slap. Instead, the pirate chuckled.

  “Five, if ye want the truth, mistress.”

  “Five? Then why would ye be wanting another?” Glynnis thrust her hand on her hip.

  Igor scrubbed his beard. “I am no’ a man who is easily satisfied. And since my wives are spread about, two of them in other countries, I need a wife here in the Highlands.”

  “I doona like leftovers.” Glynnis waved her hand at him as she turned away.

  What was her mam doing, disrespecting their captor so foolishly?

  “Leftovers?” he repeated, arching a brow. “Once I bed ye, mistress, ye’ll know think me as such.”

  Glynnis reached for several trenchers stacked on a nearby shelf, then filled one of them with stew and cut a piece of bread off the fresh loaf she had baked a few hours earlier. Then, she grabbed a wooden spoon and returned to Igor, standing before him.

  Caring nothing for manners, the beast shoveled the food into his mouth, grunting as he chewed. After devouring the bread, he demanded another piece, which Glynnis hurried to get. Once he finished, he dropped the trencher on the floor and stood.

  “Yer lovely face and cooking skills have saved ye, woman.” He gestured toward Tiva with his head. “And that skinny piece of flesh, too. I will let her live for now.”

  Glynnis curtsied. “Thank ye, laird.”

  “Ah.” Igor fingered a tendril of Glynnis’s soft, dark hair. “Ye are a smart one, aye? I like being called laird, especially when a comely lass utters the title so prettily. Maybe I will make Cacalay my new home. Tis conveniently located on the water, and neither the Sutherlands or MacKays claim this place as their own.”

  “This isna yer home!” Tiva yelled, angry the ugly man would dare stake a claim to her village.

  “Ye ugly runt!” Igor stalked to where she stood and slapped her face with enough force to bring tears to her eyes.

  Tiva swallowed the cry that threatened to escape her lips, for she had never been struck before. And when she looked to her mam for support, it shocked her to find Glynnis silent and unmoving. Why hadn’t she rushed over to defend Tiva? Why did she have a faraway look in her eyes—like the life’s blood had been drained from her body?

  “The next time ye speak, ye rank ‘lil witch, make sure ye have been spoken to first. Do ye understand?”

  Tiva wanted to scratch his eyes out! She refused to answer.

  He pinched her chin and forced her head back to look him in the eyes. “Maybe a romp with one of me captains will loosen that tongue?”

  “My laird,” Glynnis spoke up. “She’s of little interest to any man, for the girl has yet to bleed.”

  “Hmm.” Igor tilted her head several times, looking her over. “How old is she?”

  “Eleven,” her mam lied, for Tiva was fifteen but small for her age.

  “Eleven.” He let go of her face and shoved her away with disinterest. “I advise ye to teach her something about respect before I return to this house tonight. And doona get any ideas,
woman.” He turned to Glynnis. “Guards will be posted around yer cottage to make sure ye stay within. I favor ye over any other woman in this place and will take ye to wife.”

  As soon as Igor’s men finished eating, they left the cottage.

  Glynnis opened her arms wide as Tiva rushed over, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Mam. Why did ye no’ tell that man to…”

  Glynnis hugged her tight. “Do ye not know, my precious one? Thank the Almighty ye are small, for it saved ye. I will do anything that animal wants if it keeps ye safe.”

  Tiva’s eyes widened as she gazed up at her mam. “Ye’d marry him?”

  “I will put it off as long as I can. Men are easily manipulated when they lust after a woman. Leave Igor to me. Ye learn to stay quiet and out of the way. Promise me, no more outbursts, no matter what ye see him do.”

  Reluctant to agree, she finally nodded. Then the smell of burning wood wafted through the windows. Tiva rushed to the door and opened it, stepping outside, her mam behind her. Across the road, two cottages were aflame, the occupants, men, women, and children, lined up and on their knees.

  Glynnis cried out, “Tiva, close yer eyes, lass.”

  But she couldna, because she knew what was about to happen. Six guards moved down the line with their swords, stabbing them all to death.

  Glynnis tugged her daughter back inside and slammed the door.

  Tiva stared at her in horror. “He is a murderer! Ye can no’ marry him. Please, Mam.”

  Her mother swiped at the tears in her eyes, sucking in a ragged breath. “If I defy Igor, we will both get killed, Tiva. Is that what ye want?”

  For the briefest of moments, she imagined being reunited with her father. How she missed him and his laughter—his quiet strength—his love. And she knew her mam would give anything to be with him again. But life was a gift from God, meant to be lived to its fullest, something her da had always told her.

  “Nay,” Tiva finally said. “I want to live.”

  “That’s my lass.” Glynnis cupped her face between her hands. “Remember, ye are eleven, not fifteen. Ye are shy and awkward, not used to being around men. Wear yer oldest gown, not the colorful ones. Doona wash yer face and hair as often as ye usually do. No ribbons in yer braids. No smile on yer face.”

 

‹ Prev