After the battle, Anna had moved toward her brother, one hand in the air stretching out before her as though she were sleepwalking. Brother and sister had come together and hugged one another so hard it seemed like they could never be separated again.
“It’s because of ye I’m alive, Anna,” Slaine said, holding his sister in a tight hug. “I’ve never forgotten how ye looked, Sister. To me, ye look just the same as ye did when ye closed the hatch of the cellar all those years ago.”
Anna’s voice was suspended by sobs. “Slaine, I never would have recognized ye—ye’ve grown so much!”
Slaine gave a happy chuckle when she said this.
Anna let her brother go and gestured around her. “These were some of the men who attacked our village. I dinnae ken how many years ago.”
“‘Twas twenty years ago, Anna,” Slaine said. “Twenty years ago I was sent to live with me foster aunt.”
“That means I’m thirty years of age, Slaine...half me life gone...” Anna shuddered and could say no more.
Blair took her gently by the hand. “Come with me, dear, brave Anna. Me faither waits yonder with the horses. Slaine, will ye be so kind as to go and find Pooka? He’s tethered somewhere in the bushes to the left of the trail as ye come into the forest.”
Blair led Anna away. The two women did not look back.
Only when they returned to the inn and were sitting in the parlor did Anna have the strength to describe the day.
“It seems like the day has been a dream. Half nightmare, half beautiful dream.”
Angus disagreed with her.
“Seems like it’s been one long nightmare to me, lass,” he grunted, a large goblet of whiskey in his hands. “I was stuck back amidst the trees and couldnae tell who those screams were coming from. But as long as they were nae me own screams, I’m happy.” He took a long gulp of his drink.
Blair slapped her father on the side of his arm playfully. “Ye jest, Faither.” She turned to Anna. “When ye ken Angus better, ye’ll recognize when he’s trying to crack a jape.”
“Never mind about me. I want to hear about this fight o’ yers,” he said to Slaine, who was seated quietly with Anna on one side and Blair on the other.
Slaine shook his head, and Blair piped up. “He never likes to talk about it after, Faither, but I can tell ye if ye want.”
Angus huffed. “Ye should have made yer way back to the horses like ye were told, girl.”
“And then the bowman would have taken his shot at Slaine,” Anna said, taking hold of her brother’s hand and giving it a squeeze.
“I can tell ye ladies how he prepared for the fight if ye like?” Angus said, and the women nodded eagerly.
“He took off his cloak and doublet because he said people trust ye more if they think ye have nothing to hide. And indeed, when he hid the dagger in the waistband of his trews and the pistol in his trews’ pocket, it looked like all he had was a sword. As pretty a trick as I’ve ever seen,” Angus told them with a fond look on his face.
“Then, he unbuckled the reins from his horse and wrapped them around his right hand; they were hidden by the rapier's guard. And then he sauntered off toward the camp as though he was walking to attend a ceilidh!”
Slaine shifted uneasily at Angus’s praise and then stood up.
“The innkeeper was kind enough to offer us another bedchamber on the house. Seems like he’s grateful the bandits’ camp has been abandoned. And so I’m off to make good use of it if ye dinnae mind.”
Anna grasped his hand and kissed it as he bid them a good night. Blair gave him a cheeky grin and a wink, and Angus raised his goblet in a toast.
Before leaving, Slaine cleared his throat and said, “I owe each o’ ye me life’s grace. I swear I will keep ye safe forever. Now, let that be an end to all the thanks there is to be said.”
“Hear, hear!” Angus cheered. “A fitting ending to our adventures.”
20
Union and Reunion
When Blair pushed open the door to Slaine’s bedchamber later on that night, she was not surprised to find him waiting for her, seated by the fire in his usual casual fashion.
He looked up when she entered the room, but said nothing. His expression was inscrutable.
“Are ye going to turn yer back on me again, love?” she asked him, and went to sit on the bed. She enjoyed watching Slaine brooding in the firelight. His hair was freed from its knot at the nape of his neck and his untied shirt laid bare his suntanned chest. His eyes reflected the flames, showing him to be deep in thought.
Finally, he spoke. “I’ve been alone in this world since I was a wee child, fighting every day since I can remember. Fighting to escape the cellar where me sister hid me from murderin’ bandits, fighting for affection from a bitter auld woman who hated taking care of me, and fighting to earn a living since she died.”
Blair said nothing, but he knew she was listening.
“It never bothered me having to earn me living from wielding a sword. It was an honest trade and helped me eliminate people like the men who killed me parents. And then I met ye...we’ve had our fair share of fighting, have we nae?
“Aye,” Blair said in a small voice.
“So, I’ve come to the conclusion that nae all fighting is bad. In fact, it sometimes helps to clear the air and make folks say things to each other they would otherwise be too shy to say.”
He got up from the chair and joined Blair on the bed. He tilted her chin up so he could gaze upon her gorgeous face to his heart’s content.
“But let’s try nae to do too much of it in the future, lass,” he said, and kissed her.
Blair felt her body open like a flower in the summer heat when Slaine’s mouth hungrily tasted her lips. Her passion, always held back with light restraint whenever she was with this man, flamed deep inside her. She fell back onto the bed, almost swooning under the intensity of his fierce ardor.
Slaine was impatient to reach fulfillment, but knew it would take more time for Blair to ready her body for him.
He began kissing her neck, shoulders, and breasts. She shuddered and arched her back as she felt sparks of desire pulsing down to her thighs and hips; already, she wanted him inside her. But Slaine was happy to take his time; he had been thinking about all the things he wanted to do to Blair since the first time he saw her stand up to the men at the alehouse. She was so beautiful, so spirited, and yet as untouched and untrained as a wild mountain sprite.
And now, here she was, giving herself to him with hungry eagerness. Slaine fought back the urge to take her immediately. He wanted to see her undressed first: no shift, no petticoats, not even a pair of stockings to show off her coltish long legs.
He ripped the flimsy shift dress off her shoulders and pulled the light fabric down. Then, very gently, Slaine untied her stockings from above her knees, rolled them down to her ankles, and pulled them gently off her feet. Then he kissed and sucked her toes, ankles, knees, and legs, all the way up to where her inner thighs were grinding together with desperate yearning.
He knew she was ready.
Slaine stood up and removed all his clothes. His skin glowed deep bronze, throwing the rippling muscles into stark contrast with the leaner parts of the body. His chest, shoulders, and arms were massive, sharply different to his firm, taut stomach and lean hips. The thigh muscles and calves of his legs were powerful and as well developed as his arms.
When Blair looked at him standing naked next to the bed, she felt as though there could never be such a fine looking, perfectly proportioned man in the world.
Slaine’s body was as heroic as his nature and fighting skills—and he was all hers tonight.
When he lowered himself onto her, she opened her legs willingly to receive him. This was the life-changing moment; beginning as a girl and ending as a woman. The warmth inside her most intimate parts blazed with an aching, burning impulse that felt as though it would spread to the rest of her body. But then Slaine fell back, spent, on top of her, a
nd the impulse subsided back down, lying simmering within her belly.
Later, as Slaine lay beside her, before sleep, he murmured, “Next time, it will be even better.”
And from the way he said it, Blair knew it was true.
Angus had the foresight to send a messenger ahead of them, so it was no surprise to Ainslee Carmichael when the gig arrived with Anna and Angus, Slaine and Blair following behind riding Maximus and Pooka.
The message, even though it was scrawled in haste, had sternly forbidden his wife from asking any questions. It added as a proviso that she would be well rewarded for restraining her curiosity with as many pairs of shoes as she desired.
It was a happy and warm welcome waiting for them at the farm. Maggie and Adie were overjoyed at having their sister return to them.
“Yay, Blair, ye’re back to cook us our favorite meals again!” Maggie said gleefully.
Slaine and Blair had dismounted and handed over the horses to the stablehand. They gave each other side glances at these words.
Nothing daunted, Blair spoke out. What she had to tell them was better said sooner than later.
“I’m nae staying here, Maggie dearest.” She looked at the rest of the family, and her parents did not seem at all surprised at her statement. “I’m marryin’ Slaine. The sooner the better, as far as we’re concerned. He has gold enough to buy his own cottage. He hasnae been protecting the richest men in Scotland for free for the past ten years! Anna is to come and live with us too.”
Angus said, “Ye dinnae go to yer weddin’ empty-handed, Daughter. Ye will have a considerable dowry from me to add to yer happiness.”
Slaine and Blair thanked Angus for his generosity. The women and wee Maggie went to sit and discuss the ceremony in the parlor while the men and Adie went to look at the horses and inspect Slaine’s weapons more closely. It was the most normal thing they had done for what seemed like a very long time.
“If that bandit chief could rustle up a clergyman to attend to his wedding in the middle of the forest, I’m sure I can get our local Laird to skip reading the banns and wed ye young people this Sunday,” Angus said to Slaine as the warrior showed Adie how to hold a rapier without touching the ricasso.
“Doing that would come with me gratitude,” Slaine replied in his usual terse way.
Angus dithered a bit before gathering the courage to say, “Are ye sure ye can leave yer wandering life behind ye, young man? I wouldnae want me eldest daughter to follow ye from post to pillar.”
“I plan to settle down. Here in a cottage,” Slaine said as he demonstrated sword thrusts to Adie.
“Oh, aye, of that I have no doubt,” Angus blethered on. “After all, ye have yer sister and Blair to anchor ye...but...” Angus could not help but sigh. “I wouldnae want ye to get to me own age, which is yet sprightly young—nae yet one and forty summers auld, I might add—and then find yerself sitting by the fireside every evening, wishing for a bit of adventure.”
Slaine stood up to his full height and looked down at Angus. The older man was looking shamefaced and twisting his hat in his hands most wretchedly.
“Like what ye did, ye mean?” Slaine stated, and, not waiting for a reply, said, “Nay, I wilnae do that.”
With that, Angus had to be satisfied.
True to his word, Angus used his influence—and his gold—to get Slaine and Blair married without reading the banns. Blair had said to the clergyman, after he had agreed to conduct the ceremony, “Thank ye, Laird. Slaine and I dinnae need for the congregation to witness our promise to wed one another; they can observe our marriage to their hearts’ content when we set up home together. Slaine has bought the cottage at the end of Orchard Lane.”
Anna, Blair, and Slaine left the kerk after Angus had given the bride away and the quick ceremony had made them husband and wife. Ainslee had cried—more for the loss of Blair’s housekeeping skills than the loss of her daughter—and Maggie and Adie had strewn rose petals outside the chapel entrance.
There was no wedding feast, just a quiet dinner with the Carmichael family at noon and then a light supper with Anna and the newlywed couple in the cottage parlor that evening.
“Get to bed, the pair o’ ye,” Anna said. “I’ll clear away.”
Blair thanked her, grabbed Slaine by the hand, and dragged him to the bridal bedchamber. She was anxious to continue what they had started at the inn.
This time, it was Blair’s excitement that drove them. She pushed Slaine onto the bed and began to strip off his clothes. It did not take long. He only wore a kilt and shirt after having kicked off his boots at the threshold. It had been a hot summer’s day and had turned into a sultry night. There was no fire to light the room, so Blair left the candles burning. She wanted to see as well as experience his touch. Slaine was quite happy to go along with whatever she wanted to do. He allowed Blair to move his body into any position she liked, observing her eagerness from under his lashes, an amused expression on his mouth.
She untied his shirt, one lace at a time, gradually exposing his chest and stomach. It was the most stimulating thing to be able to rub her hands over his chest and feel his muscles, something Blair had been desperate to do since she had first seen him without his doublet or cloak.
She flipped the shirt open and pulled it down off his shoulders and arms. The material stretched tight over the muscles, but came off when she tugged. Next came the kilt. One pin pulled out was all it took for the rest of his body to be revealed, the effects of her seduction already clear to see in his throbbing manhood.
“Yer turn,” he said in a deep voice, and Blair, knowing he loved the sight of her nakedness, was delighted to oblige him in any way she could.
She stripped off her wedding gown and undergarments in a hurry, impatient to join him on the bed. When she crawled onto the bed beside him, she decided to play with his body the same way he had played with hers that night at the inn.
Blair moved her lips in soft, teasing kisses over his mouth, down his chest, and further to where the proof of his passion pulsed, aching for her touch. When she touched his body, Blair felt the excitement mount inside her as though it was being done to herself. If ever a bride needed evidence that her charms were enough to drive a man to madness, it could be found in how strong and hard Slaine had to fight back his urge to penetrate Blair until satisfaction relieved him of his ardor.
But it was Blair’s time to be in control. It was as if her body knew what to do to bring them both to the peak of ecstasy. She climbed on top of Slaine and their bodies were joined together in a burst of pleasure. Time seemed to have no meaning while Blair rocked and ground her hips on top of her husband. The movement and the penetration made the natural impulse that had been vibrating inside her burst through her body like a wildfire.
Utterly spent, and feeling Slaine had emptied his force within her at the same time she had reached her peak, Blair climbed off her husband and snuggled into the nest created by his arm and chest.
Blair knew she was in the safest, happiest place in the world.
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Prologue
Cameron McAuley rubbed the week’s worth of growth on his face with his hand, frowning at the dark clouds in the distance. He had thought that perhaps they would beat the storm, but now he wasn’t so confident.
“Tell me it isnae too much farther.”
Cameron blew out a breath, looking back at his companion. “I’ve already told ye that ’tis another hour.”
The redheaded lass glared at him, grasping her saddle pommel. “Then can we stop?”
“We already stopped thirty minutes ago,” he growled, his head starting to hurt once more. After a week in her company, Cameron looked forward to a few pints of ale and a warm body that didn’t wish to carry on a conversation.
Katherine McDougal was not that woman. He still didn’t understand why his laird, Arran Mcaiwn, had insisted that he fetch his wife’s cousin from her drafty castle on McDougal land, but yet here he was.
Suffering.
She stuck out her lower lip, a sullen look on her face. “I’m tired of riding.”
“Then ye can walk.”
She huffed, and he hid his grin, urging his horse a bit faster. As much as she irked him, he had repaid her in kind. For the first few days, Cameron had respectfully held his tongue, but after the third day, he had found it difficult not to talk to her.
Not because he enjoyed their conversation but because he had told her more than once to just quit talking.
If nothing else, he had learned that Katherine McDougal was a spoiled lass with no sympathy for a Scot’s ear.
Highlander’s Road to Valor: A Steamy Scottish Medieval Historical Romance Page 12