The Bride Chooses a Highlander

by Adrienne Basso

  She boldly sought his mouth, urging him to kiss her harder, longer, deeper. Low sounds of pleasure escaped from her throat. She was shivering with a hunger she couldn’t identify, didn’t know how to assuage. Yet instinctively she knew that Lachlan would.

  He kissed her once more, then turned away. Katherine swayed and he dug his fingers into her shoulders to keep her from falling. They were both gasping for breath. When hers steadied, he loosened his hold on her.

  Katherine allowed her gaze to travel slowly up his powerfully muscled legs to his broad chest and finally his handsome face. Something hot and glittering sparkled in the depths of his eyes. Something she couldn’t completely explain, yet could never ignore.

  His smoldering kisses had awakened a passion that she had hoped existed within her, yet feared she might never find. The desire to keep kissing him, touching him, feeling him, nearly overcame her. How had he so easily beguiled her?

  She had felt no need to withdraw from his kisses—quite the contrary, she had encouraged the contact. Why? Aye, she was comfortable with him, her guard was lowered, her curiosity raised. Was that all it took to allow a stranger such liberties?

  Katherine carefully banked the fire inside her, needing time to examine and understand it. The kisses had been extraordinary, yet they were but a small part of what drew her to him.

  What little she knew of him she admired—his caring nature, his forthright manner, his intelligence. Despite the odd circumstances that had brought them together, there was an ease she felt around him that had never existed with any other man. He had seen her at her worst, ill and unkempt, and yet somehow he still found her appealing.

  Extraordinary.

  “We cannae stay here alone together any longer,” he announced, a visible pulse throbbing in his neck.

  Katherine ran her tongue over her tingling lips. “Because of the kisses?” she asked softly, searching his eyes.

  “Aye. Nay.” Lachlan tossed his head, as if trying to clear a befuddled mind. “There are many reasons.”

  Warmth rose in her face, but she met his eyes straight on. Was he rejecting her? Nay, his kisses bespoke of his desire, his expression revealed his passion. “I dinnae think I am strong enough yet to make the journey to my home,” she protested.

  He moved a few steps away from her. “I know of a convent a day’s ride from here. I’ll take ye there so that ye may fully recover yer strength. When ye are fit, the nuns will send word to me and I’ll arrange a proper guard to take ye home.”

  Katherine’s heart began pounding at a quicker speed. The thought of being separated from him brought on an acute ache. She closed her hand over his and squeezed.

  “When the time comes, will ye lead my escort?”

  He released her hand, looked away, and shifted on his feet. “There’s something I need to tell ye first.”

  Suspicion curled through her and her stomach dipped. From his tone Katherine knew that something was wrong. He refused to meet her gaze and his handsome face was lined with guilt. Over their kisses?

  Nervously, she started rubbing the tightness in her neck, her mind spinning in turmoil. Married. He’s married. That’s why he looks so guilty.

  “Tell me,” she whispered, exhaling slowly to hide her trepidation.

  He compressed his lips into a tight line, his expression grim. She continued to stare at him until finally he blurted, “My full name is Lachlan Alexander James MacTavish. I’m laird of the MacTavish clan.”

  * * *

  Katherine shook her head rapidly, her eyes filling with great confusion. “Truly?”

  “Aye.” Lachlan stepped forward, worried that her knees might give way and she would tumble to the ground. His instinct was to reach for her and prevent it, yet he dare not touch her until she revealed her full reaction to his confession.

  A wave of guilt needled Lachlan’s conscious. Deceit was difficult for him. Concealing his true identity from Katherine had made the situation easier for him, but he worried now if it had been the wisest course.

  Trust, once broken, was difficult to regain. And he needed both her trust and cooperation if he was going to prevent her family from starting a feud with his clan.

  For a moment it appeared that his betrayal had left her mute. He tried to read her eyes, but they skillfully concealed her thoughts.

  “Are ye acquainted with the man who took me?” she finally asked, warily. “His men called him Aiden.”

  “Aye. He’s my younger brother.”

  Katherine gasped and blanched white, covering her cry with her open palm. “Did ye order yer brother to kidnap me?”

  Lachlan turned to hide his anger, strangely hurt that she would think him capable of such an act. “I knew nothing of his plans, for if I had, I would have forbidden it. Aiden claims when he unexpectedly saw the opportunity to take ye, he seized it and thus I believe he tells the truth. My brother has a real talent fer acting first and thinking second.”

  She took a cautious step back. “I must have seemed like a prized pig easily stolen when he and his men spied us. ’Twas foolish of me to be riding a long distance with such a small escort.”

  “Ye are many things, Lady Katherine, but a swine is not one of them.”

  He had hoped to elicit a small smile on her lovely face. When none appeared, he felt a strange tug in his chest and an almost overpowering urge to cradle her again in his arms and banish her fear and uncertainty.

  “Ye know all, then? Who I am?”

  “Aye.”

  “Will ye ransom me?”

  “Nay. I have no quarrel with the McKenna clan and no wish to make an enemy of them.”

  She shivered. “It might already be too late to prevent it. One doesn’t kidnap the kin of their friends or allies.”

  “All is not lost,” he insisted. “Ye shall be returned unhurt. Will that not appease yer family?”

  “Some of them, perhaps. However, my father willnae be fergiving when he learns what yer brother has done. It will be even worse when others hear of it. His fearsome reputation will suffer, his pride will be wounded, and retribution fer that will fall directly on the MacTavish.” Katherine’s throat constricted as she swallowed. “Directly on ye.”

  “I shall convince him that no harm was intended and will pay whatever reparation he believes fair,” Lachlan said, the confidence of his tone belying his inner doubts. “However, in order to do that, I’ll need yer help.”

  Her brow rose in suspicion and he could not fault her mistrust.

  “My father will want to know my fate since my capture and I shall tell him all. Even to keep the peace, I willnae lie to my family,” she insisted.

  “I would never ask that of ye,” he replied. “All I require is the opportunity to plead my case. I believe that if ye ask yer father to listen to me, I’ll get that chance.”

  Katherine sighed and anxiously bit her lower lip. “The joy of my safe return will quickly be replaced by anger at my foolish behavior. I cannae guarantee that my father will be inclined to do anything that I ask of him, including listening to ye.”

  Lachlan’s gut roiled. ’Twas an impossible situation, yet at all costs, a feud between the clans had to be averted. Ironically, if Laird McKenna consented to hear Lachlan’s explanation, there was little he could offer the wealthy and powerful McKennas in payment for Katherine’s kidnapping.

  Still, Lachlan remained determined to somehow find a way to settle things peacefully. “Will ye try?” he asked.

  Katherine closed her eyes as though deep in prayer, and he was struck anew at her beauty. ’Twas so easy to fall prey to her charms and he cursed his lack of restraint, admitting that he was hardly indifferent to her. No man with sight would be able to resist her unaffected allure.

  Yet he couldn’t allow her feminine splendor to cloud his senses, to impede his judgment. He knew that he could not let this attraction interfere with what he needed to do—return her to her kin as quickly as possible.

  As much as he had relished them, La
chlan was forced to admit the kisses had been a mistake. He had no right to kiss her with such passion and longing, yet her sweet, open manner had tempted him beyond reason.

  He had always prided himself on his ability to exercise restraint with women, but the ability to control his desires had vanished when he began kissing Katherine. The feel of her in his arms, the passionate, honest response to his kisses had nearly driven him over the edge.

  Was it the appeal of something that he knew was forbidden to him? She was the daughter of a rich and powerful man; he was the laird of a poor and disgraced clan. She was destined to belong to a man with considerably more coin, property, and power than Lachlan could ever hope to possess. That realization left a bitter taste on his tongue, but facing the truth was something he had trained himself to accept years ago.

  Katherine’s eyelids slowly raised and he clearly saw the indecision in her eyes. God’s teeth! What then if she refused to help him? She certainly had the right. They looked at each other for a long while. Lachlan held his breath, trying not to reveal the anxiety he felt.

  “If ye keep yer word and return me safely to my clan, I’ll do all that I can to aid ye in explaining the truth of my capture to my father,” she finally said.

  “’Tis a bargain,” he replied solemnly.

  Katherine cast a glance at the doorway. “When do we leave fer the convent?”

  Lachlan breathed a small sigh of relief. “Now.”

  * * *

  It took but a few minutes to gather anything of value from the hut and pack it on Lachlan’s horse. As Katherine readied herself for the journey, questions mingling with seeds of doubt plagued her. Had she escaped the clutches of one brother, only to land in the lap of another?

  Was it true that Aiden’s rash nature was responsible for this predicament? She desperately wanted to believe that Lachlan had no part in her abduction, yet she knew all too well the folly of trusting the wrong man.

  He told her that he was the laird. In her experience, few Highlanders possessed the audacity to defy their leader, even if they were of the same blood. Still, he had insisted he had not ordered her kidnapping in a sincere and truthful voice. And there was no denying that he had shown her kindness and compassion during her illness.

  Was she judging him too harshly?

  “Ready to leave?”

  Lachlan’s simple question startled Katherine away from her inner thoughts. Though her mind and emotions were still in a hazy turmoil, she knew her choices were few. She could hardly stay in the hut alone. Mercy, even if she refused to leave, he could easily remove her by force.

  “I’m ready.” She pulled on her leather gloves and accepted his hand to assist her onto his mount. She slowly settled herself, then heard the saddle creak when he vaulted up behind her.

  Reaching around her waist, Lachlan gathered the reins. ’Twas a necessary move, yet it sparked a feeling of intimacy. The desire to lean back and cuddle into his warmth and strength seized Katherine and she acknowledged the attraction she felt for him had not suffered from the doubts she had about his honesty and his motives.

  Nay, her attraction was as strong as ever. Hell, if he pulled her shoulders back and turned her into his arms, she would willingly accept his kisses—then likely beg for more. Annoyed at her physical weakness, Katherine stiffened her spine.

  I must remain cold, distant, and in control.

  For the next few hours she sat in front of Lachlan atop his great beast of a horse with her shoulders squared and back stiff. Thankfully, the fabric of her cloak separated them. Yet she could hear him shifting restless in the saddle, moving close enough that she could feel the strong muscles of his chest whenever they glanced against her.

  Her heartbeat quickened, a consequence she reluctantly conceded that was due to Lachlan’s nearness. The man had a power over her that she fully intended to control, a task made all the more difficult by his ability to send ripples of emotion through her merely by being close.

  Tattered clouds drifted across a gray sky and Katherine was grateful no rain, snow, or ice fell from them. They rode in silence, through a dense forest that Lachlan seemed to know well.

  Katherine’s eyelids grew heavy. Closing them, she dozed intermittently, until a rustle of noise sounded ahead, startling her completely awake. Lachlan slowed the horse, shifting his eyes in a wide circle around them.

  “Riders ahead,” he whispered. “To our left.”

  Katherine’s heart thumped. She squinted through the boughs of pine trees, alarmed to see that Lachlan was right. “Yer men?” she asked hopefully.

  “Nay. We left MacTavish land over an hour ago,” Lachlan replied, still watching the trees ahead. “One of our search parties wouldn’t have come this far south.”

  The pines soon gave way to stark branches of oak, giving them a clearer view. Eight mounted Highlanders approached. Two carried bows, arrows notched and ready to fly. A third man balanced a spear expertly across his saddle.

  “Are they hunting?” she whispered.

  “Aye.” Lachlan mumbled an oath.

  Katherine shrank closer to him, then stiffened the moment she saw the colors of the Highlander’s plaid. “Frasers.”

  She uttered the name beneath her breath, but Lachlan heard her.

  “’Tis the laird himself leading the men. Does he know ye?” Lachlan asked.

  Katherine shook her head. “I’ve never met him. But ’tis no secret that the Frasers have little kindness fer the McKennas.”

  In truth, Laird Archibald Fraser was a bitter enemy of the McKennas—the feud between them ran deep, heightened by the fact that Katherine’s brother had recently married Archibald’s divorced wife. ’Twould be a boon indeed to the Fraser clan if she fell into their hands and a powerful weapon to use against her own kin.

  Katherine watched with growing trepidation as the Fraser men spread out and came closer, effectively surrounding them.

  “I dinnae think they have seen us yet,” she whispered. “Can we outrun them?”

  “If we bolt, they’ll hear it and give chase, believing we have something to hide,” Lachlan replied, steadying his horse. “’Tis best if we brazen it out.”

  Katherine wanted to argue, but she saw the wisdom in his plan. She nodded and tried to swallow the lump of fear that lingered in her throat, saying a silent prayer that Lachlan MacTavish was the honorable Highlander she hoped him to be.

  Suddenly, the deadly hiss of an arrow whizzed over their heads, striking a tree.

  “Ye are on Fraser land,” shouted a harsh, authoritative voice. “Show yerselves at once or the next arrow shall strike far closer than that tree.”

  “Calm yer men,” Lachlan cried. “I’m Lachlan MacTavish. I pose no threat.”

  Lachlan kicked his heels against the horse’s flanks, steering them forward. Katherine held her breath as an uneasy stillness filled the air. The men sat casually on their mounts, their hands loosely holding the reins. It should have brought her a sense of calm. But she knew those weapons so close at hand could be drawn in a heartbeat, yielding deadly consequences.

  Though she had never met him, ’twas easy for Katherine to pick out Laird Fraser. Mounted on a large, white horse with a pack of fierce-looking warriors flanking him, Archibald was a formidable sight. He was as handsome as she had been told, with a strong brow, bold eyes, a squared jaw, and a winning smile of straight white teeth.

  Yet Katherine knew better than to be taken in by his outward pleasing appearance. Her sister-in-law, Joan, rarely spoke of her years as Archibald’s wife, but the few things she had said bespoke of his cold heart and barbarous cruelty.

  “Are ye lost, MacTavish?” Archibald questioned in a mocking tone. “Or are ye looking fer a private spot to enjoy some bed sport with yon maiden?”

  Katherine sucked in her breath as the Fraser laird’s narrow glare fixated on her, his lecherous gaze traveling down the length of her body.

  “I’m merely taking a shortened route to MacTavish Keep so that we may arriv
e before darkness,” Lachlan said in a clipped, hard tone.

  “Och, so ye’re eager to do yer rutting beside a fire with a roof over yer head?” Laird Fraser let out a snide chuckle, but then his eyes suddenly narrowed with further suspicion. “Who is this wench? She wears a cloak with the McKenna plaid.”

  Katherine tried not to flinch as Archibald’s heavy stare bore into her. The gaze unnerved her, far beyond the fear that he might discover her true identity. There was something feral and cruel lurking in the depths of Archibald’s eyes.

  “Yer thirst fer revenge against the McKennas is well-known,” Lachlan said casually. “But I dinnae think ye’d find a former serving girl of much interest.”

  “A servant?” Archibald quirked a brow. “The quality of the cloak wrapped around her says otherwise.”

  Lachlan rubbed his jaw. “The garment was a parting gift from her former mistress.”

  “McKenna’s shrew of a wife? Or his spoiled daughter?” Archibald cast them both a jaundiced eye. “’Tis unlikely that either of them would relinquish such a fine garment to a mere servant.”

  Lachlan leveled his gaze at Archibald. “I dinnae say the McKenna lass gave it to her, now did I?”

  There was a chorus of laughter from the men surrounding their laird. Katherine experienced a twinge of indignity at the insults leveled against her and her mother, then silently chastised herself for being so foolish. The opinion of these men mattered not a whit.

  She caught Archibald’s skeptical look and struggled to appear unconcerned. Did he believe Lachlan’s tale? The Fraser laird had eyes that seemed to peer directly into her soul. A feeling of foreboding took hold and she shivered. God help her if he somehow discovered that she was the McKenna’s daughter.

  “What’s yer name, lass?” Archibald barked.

  “Isabel, milord,” Katherine answered. Fearing to reveal even an ounce of truth, she used her middle name.

  “How did a McKenna servant come to be riding with the laird of the MacTavish clan?” Laird Fraser wanted to know.

  “Former servant,” Katherine corrected.

  Archibald’s mouth pressed into a grim line. “She’s far too bold a lass to be in service,” he declared, his cold gaze directly challenging Lachlan.