Highlander's Lurking Threat: A Scottish Medieval Historical Romance

by Ava McArthur

  So he did, slowly and patiently, and when he had finished, she sat still for a while, digesting all that he had told her. He reached out for her hand and kissed it before clasping it tightly in both of his own.

  “I meant what I said.” His voice was soft and earnest. “All I ask of you tonight is to let me hold you. We can think about everything else when you are ready.”

  He stood up to pour her a glass of wine, gave it to her, and went to put more wood on the fire. She watched his every movement, noticing how gracefully he moved despite his size. For the first time, she was seized by a new emotion: desire. She felt a strange, pleasant ache and a warm wetness between her thighs as she studied the hands that were so big that they engulfed hers, even though their touch had been so gentle. The firelight glinted on the stubble on his face that had grown during the day, and its very masculinity stirred her. She wondered if it would scratch her tender skin if he kissed her, and suddenly she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted it very, very much.

  She lay back on the bed and waited for him to join her. He had said he wanted to hold her, but as she looked at the size and strength of his arms, she hoped he would not embrace her too tightly. His muscles looked as though they could snap her in half, and she smiled at the thought.

  “What are you finding so funny?” he asked, smiling as he lay down beside her.

  “The size of your arms,” she replied, laughing. “I hope you won’t break me in two!”

  He smiled but said nothing as he gathered her into them. He kissed her forehead, and then, as she smiled at him, he sighed, and his mouth moved to her lips.

  It was the most heavenly thing Elspeth had ever experienced. His lips were soft, not rough as she had expected, and she moaned softly when he flicked the tip of his tongue against her lower lip. When she felt it gently intrude into her mouth, she opened it for him, and he stroked his tongue against hers ’til she was moaning with pleasure.

  Niall screwed his hands into fists to stop himself from breaking his promise to do nothing but hold her. He had already broken it with the kiss, but Elspeth was putting up no resistance, in fact, he had never been with a woman who was so delightfully responsive.

  He felt her hand caressing his face, stroking the angle of his jaw and moving down to his chin, where her thumb dipped into the little dimple there. Feeling his control slipping, he dragged his mouth away from hers but kept his eyes closed, so she could not see the desire blazing in them.

  “I am sorry,” he whispered hoarsely. “I only meant to hold you, Elspeth, but I broke my word.” He turned away from her and tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed. “Perhaps I should sleep in another room tonight.” He was hanging on to his willpower by a thread.

  Elspeth was dizzy with desire, and when she felt Niall pulling away from her, she reacted instinctively and clung to his shirt, holding him back, only then realizing that they were both still fully dressed. “Don’t go,” she whispered. “Stay with me.”

  He turned to look into her eyes and saw there the same desperation that was in his own. “I will not be able to keep my hands off you,” he warned. “You are far too tempting, Elspeth.”

  “Then perhaps you should give in to it,” she replied. “Perhaps we both should. I have never felt the way I feel at this moment, Niall. You have—”

  She got no further, for his mouth crushed hers in a predatory kiss; not gentle, not sweet, but hungry and demanding. He almost drew blood as he crushed her lips against her teeth, but when she moaned, it was with delight at the painful pleasure.

  She felt his hands moving to the hem of her skirt, pulling it upwards, and as she strained closer, the ridge of his arousal pressed against her, making waves of delight wash over her. His fingertips skimmed the sensitive inner skin of her thighs. She felt his hand move upward and arched her hips towards him, possessed by some animal instinct she had not known she possessed. Somehow, without her knowledge, he had pulled down the neckline of her dress and his other hand was on her breast, teasing out her nipple.

  “What are you doing to me?” she gasped as his mouth left hers for a moment to trail kisses down the length of her throat.

  “Giving you pleasure,” he replied. “You are my wife, and it is my duty.” He laughed, a low growl in his throat that sent a thrill straight to her core. “And I take my duty very seriously…”

  Elspeth felt a new sensation as he moved to the wet center of her womanhood, and pushed two fingers inside her, then withdrew them to insert them again, setting up a rhythm that slowly began to drive her mad with pleasure. Her body bucked, and she grabbed the bedclothes underneath her tightly. These new sensations were almost unbearably incredible, but when he caressed the nub of flesh at her core with his thumb, she felt a dart of sheer ecstasy shoot through her, and screamed with the force of it.

  Niall kissed her again, hardly able to believe that what he was doing was making Elspeth feel so much pleasure. The expression in her eyes was one of incredulity that anything could possibly feel so good.

  He sighed as his mouth and hands explored every inch of her, tasting the sweetness that no other man had ever done before, and it was only when his own need became unbearable that he looked into her eyes and whispered, “Now, Elspeth?”

  She nodded and swallowed nervously as she tensed and closed her eyes. She was afraid, but somehow she knew that there was something else, that the best was yet to come. He had told her it would hurt a little, but not for long. Nevertheless, her body was preparing for the worst.

  Niall sank into her with a great sigh of relief, inch by careful inch, going slowly, restraining himself against the urge to thrust as his whole being wanted him to. Her flesh closed around him until, at last, he came to the barrier of her maidenhead; she moaned in discomfort as he breached it, but then smiled and pushed her hips up to him in unmistakable invitation.

  Elspeth had never felt so wanton or wicked. Her husband was inside her, loving her, and somehow her body knew what to do.

  They began to move in rhythm with each other in a way that was as old as time itself, and Elspeth felt yet another new sensation building inside her, one that was better than anything that had gone before. It came and went, advanced and retreated, growing stronger every time.

  She was reaching for something that seemed unattainable, although she had no idea what it was. However, she knew a moment later when it crashed over her in a wave of absolute bliss, unlike anything she had ever felt before. She screamed Niall’s name and felt his hard body shudder against her as he too reached his climax with a hoarse sigh.

  He collapsed onto her and then rolled sideways, taking her with him and cradling her in his arms as the last tremors of fulfillment shook both of them. She nestled into his warmth and smelled the male musk of his skin, realizing with amazement that in a few more moments, she would be ready to receive him again.

  “Am I truly your wife now?” she asked tremulously.

  He laughed softly. “You truly are, Elspeth. And I am truly your husband. But do you not think that it’s time we took our clothes off?”

  She giggled, noticing that they were still both wearing their wedding attire, although it was now in a very sorry state of disrepair.

  “On the other hand, though,” he said thoughtfully as he leaned on one elbow and looked down at her, “I like this look. You look like a woman who has been thoroughly—”

  She put a hand in front of his lips. “Made love to!” she supplied, laughing.

  He withdrew from her gently, and she felt empty all of a sudden. She made a little moan of protest, and he laughed. She watched his full, strong lips, and reached up to brush his lower lip with her finger. He drew it into his mouth and gave it a soft bite.

  “Ow!” she laughed, pretending that it had been painful. “Now, Husband, have I learned everything I need to know?”

  His eyes twinkled as they looked into hers. “Definitely not, milady,” he answered mischievously. “I have a lot more to teach you!”

  Els
peth sipped her wine and licked her lips watching his eyes following her hungrily.

  “Somehow, though,” he said thoughtfully, “I think you will be a very quick learner!” He slid his hand over her waist and pulled her closer. “I think we may be very busy for quite a while…”

  When his lips began to caress hers again, she knew she would happily submit to whatever lesson he chose to teach her. Moreover, she had found a man she could trust, who made her feel safe. She would worry about falling in love later.

  They began to peel off each other’s clothes, and when they were both naked, they began to explore each other’s bodies again. She heard his breathing quicken, and soon it was beginning all over again, but this time it was even more glorious since there was no pain.

  Afterward, he held her to him while she breathed in the enticing male musk of his skin and listened to the steady thud of his heart.

  “Are you sorry we married?” he asked, stroking her hair.

  “Not at the moment,” she replied mischievously.

  “Would you rather have married my brother? Even if he had not been the heir?” Her answer mattered to him, he realized suddenly. He did not want to play second fiddle to Craig; he wanted Elspeth to have married him, not because she had felt compelled to, but because she wanted to. “If you had had a choice?”

  She was baffled. “I cannot answer that since I was not given one. On what grounds should I have chosen between you? Craig died. You did not, and we cannot change what has happened. I am your wife now.”

  He tilted her chin up so she was facing him again, and glared at her. “So really, it did not matter to you which of us you ended up with, as long as you married the laird?”

  “No!” she cried in protest. “I was not given a chance to decide! I was meant to marry Craig because he was the laird, and I could not disobey my father. I had no say in the matter!” Then her voice became soft as she said, “And I like you.”

  “So fate brought us together,” he concluded. “But if I had not been on the road being held up by you and asking you for kisses, I may have been here to help him. If I had not been so enamored of you and your kisses. It was my fault that my brother died.”

  Niall said nothing more, but jumped out of bed and scrambled into his clothes. He strode out of the room, leaving Elspeth to flop back on the pillows and wonder what had just happened. She was being blamed for something that was not her fault, but why?

  She realized that she was exhausted. It had been a difficult few days, and her emotions had seesawed from extreme sadness to anger to joy. It was time for her to rest, but her sleep was troubled and fitful, and she woke feeling no more refreshed than before.

  6

  Wrestling

  As usual, Niall worked off his frustration by fighting it. He ran upstairs to the battlements and ordered one of the biggest guards to accompany him downstairs for a wrestling match. This was not uncommon, since it was no secret that Niall McLaren had no ambition to be anything else but a warrior and was always involved in some kind of combat.

  It was wrestling today, but it would likely be archery tomorrow, or sword fighting or even catapulting. Niall could make a weapon of any kind bend to his will, but his most effective ones were his bare hands. Niall’s partner was Kenneth Logan, a worthy partner since he was almost as big and broad as Niall, and he bore numerous scars, including a badly broken nose, to prove that he had been the scourge of the Sassenachs during his serious fighting days.

  Now, as the two men circled each other, Niall felt a surge of excitement in his belly. Making love to a woman was one side of being a man, but this was the other.

  The bout lasted twenty minutes and attracted a crowd of spectators, including many of the maids. It was a treat for them to see two big, strapping men engaged in fierce combat like a pair of rutting stags, and they cheered for their favorite, sometimes in language that would have made a sailor blush.

  Eventually, Niall got the better of his adversary, and held him to the ground by straddling him and pinning his wrists to the tiles, then demanded submission. Kenneth pretended to growl then laughed sheepishly.

  “Ye won fair an’ square, M’Laird,” he conceded as he allowed the laird to pull him onto his feet. “As always!”

  If only I could love as well as I fight! Niall thought bitterly.

  It seemed to have been a long time since Craig McLaren’s passing, even though only a couple of days had passed. Now that all the ceremonial niceties were out of the way, work around the castle and on the estate would go back to normal.

  Niall resolved to bury himself in the ordinary work of the estate as quickly as possible, but first he needed to study the accounts, orders, and all the tedious paperwork that was so foreign to a man of action like himself. That was now his responsibility, and the longer he put it off, the worse it would become, so he reluctantly closed the door of Craig’s study behind him and bent his head to shoulder his burden. The columns of figures he saw meant nothing to him; in fact, he felt an almost physical revulsion to them. After a few moments, the estate chief arrived and they spent a tedious hour together, during which Niall tried to learn how to balance profit against expenses, how to order stock from suppliers, and a hundred other things which he simply could not grasp. He eventually excused himself, pleading a genuine headache. He had learned exactly nothing.

  A pair of eyes was watching Niall as he moved downstairs. They followed the tall, powerful man whose purposeful strides ate up the ground and whose air of authority made him seem even bigger than he was. When he disappeared, their owner sat down in the shadow of an alcove in the courtyard and began to eat their midday meal, watching the study door to see if he emerged again.

  Niall McLaren was not just a big man, but a clever one too. If they wanted to dispose of him, they would have to be cleverer still. Now that he was laird, it was unlikely that he would now go outside the castle without an armed escort surrounding him, so an ambush was out of the question. They had to think of something that would dispose of him inside the castle, but it had to be something that would be so subtle that no one would ever be aware of it.

  The watcher turned away as Niall left their sight, and then, gathering their belongings, walked over the drawbridge and out of the castle.

  A short distance away, the watcher arrived at their destination: a small, tumbledown cottage at the edge of the local village. The door was opened by a young man with deep red-brown hair and amber eyes, who smiled and came forward to embrace his visitor. He was tall but not as tall as Niall; very few people were.

  The cottage had obviously not been used for years. It had a great hole in its thatch and smelled of damp mold and rotten straw. The only furniture in it was a pair of rough-hewn wooden chairs against the cold stone walls. It was a truly pitiful place, but the only shelter for miles, and the only place they could meet in secret.

  “How are you?” he asked as he sat down on one of the chairs. He produced a bottle of ale and they took turns drinking from it, since he had no cups.

  “I am well enough,” the watcher said grimly. “The laird is deid but it looks as though the young laird will need takin’ care o’ as well.”

  The man gazed at the watcher intently. “I see,” he said at last, frowning. “I thought he might refuse the lairdship in favor of being a warrior, but if he is married and looks to be settling down, it may be another obstacle in our path.” He took a sip of his ale and passed the bottle back to his partner. “What do you suggest we do?”

  “There are a few things,” his companion answered, frowning. “But dinnae think that because he is a great stag o’ a man, he is brainless. He is one o’ the cleverest folk I know, so we must be careful—vera careful. As well as that, there are two o’ them now, an’ if we dinnae hurry up there will be three, because I have seen the way he looks at that lassie! An’ by the way, she is even sharper than he is, so we need tae see both o’ them off before things get any worse.”

  They both sat thinking for a short whil
e.

  “What if we dae this?” the watcher asked, frowning. A plan began to emerge, but it was found wanting. The two conspirators considered others and came up with something they both thought might work.

  After a while, the dark figure of the watcher went back to the castle, well pleased with a good afternoon’s work.

  Elspeth ate her midday meal in her chamber, while Catriona watched her, worried about her sadness.

  “Did he...hurt ye, mistress?” she asked anxiously.

  Elspeth laughed sadly. “Not in the way you mean, Catie,” she replied, patting her shoulder. “We had a few harsh words, that is all.”

  “So soon?” Catriona looked a little shocked, then angry. “Dinnae put up wi’ any rubbish, mistress. He is a big man, but he isnae God.”

  “I will try not to,” she sighed. “But you know, Catie, all my life people have been telling me what to do. First my father, my grandfather, then the Council of Elders, and now my husband. Sometimes I wish I was a man too so that I could fight for my rights.” She stood up and went restlessly to the window, then paced back to Catriona again. “If I could wield a sword, or even a bow, I know that things would not be like this. He values strength above all.” She growled in frustration.

  “Come,” Catriona said soothingly. “We will go up ontae the battlements an’ take a breath o’ air.”

  Elspeth nodded resignedly and followed Catriona upstairs. They did not wish to climb all the way to the top of the castle—that was only for the strongest of the guards—so they stopped at the first level, but before they could look out at the stunning views of the loch, Elspeth’s gaze fell to the courtyard. Niall was there, wrestling with another man who was equally big and muscular.

  She could never understand how men took such pleasure in hurting each other. She saw Niall throw the other man onto the cobbled floor of the yard, and he grunted with pain, but then sprang up and butted her husband in his stomach with his massive head. Niall went down but rolled over before the other giant could touch him again and dived between his legs, overbalancing him by pushing them outward. The man fell forward; Niall sat on his back and straddled him until he cried out for mercy; then, it was over.