“Your safety and,” —he rested a hand to her stomach— “that of our bairn comes first.”
She rested her hand over his. “Our bairn is safe and I will keep him so. Besides I knew you would not be far behind me. You would rush into hell itself to rescue me.”
“You believe I can free you from the devil?”
“If not,” —she smiled— “you would join me in hell, for you would never leave me to suffer alone.”
“You know me well, wife.”
“I know the depths of your love for me and that makes all the difference.”
She turned her head and their lips met in a hungry kiss.
The door burst open, though they didn’t bother to break apart.
“You two are always at it,” Reeve said, shaking his head, though smiling.
Duncan hugged his wife as he said to his brother. “Why are you disturbing us?”
“I had a thought and wanted to ask Mercy a question.”
“How did you get passed mum?” Duncan asked.
“The secret passageway.”
“What secret passageway?” Mercy asked.
“No time to explain now,” Reeve said. “If a servant finds me here she’s sure to tattle to mum. Duncan can tell you about the passageway another time.”
Mercy looked to her husband and Duncan nodded. “I promise.”
Reeve sat down at the bottom of the bed. “You heard one soldier say that it was a bad mission right?”
“Aye, that’s what I heard.”
“Then that would mean that the group we met up with was the soldiers sent on that bad or secret mission,” Reeve said
Duncan nodded. “You’re right, which mean the mission failed.”
Reeve shook his head. “No, if this mission is as important as it sounds we’ve merely delayed it. The king is sure to gather more men and see it done.”
“I fear that you’re going to ride into the heart of it,” Mercy said.
Reeve stood with a grin. “Then the curse beware for it has met its match.”
This short story follows Mercy and Duncan’s book Bound To A Warrior, first book in the Warrior King series and is a prelude to Reeve’s book Loved By A Warrior, second book in the series.
Highlander’s True Love
A Cree & Dawn Short Story
* * *
All rights reserved.
Copyright 2015 by Donna Fletcher
Chapter 1
Cree stood outside his bedchamber, his hand hovering over the metal latch. He did not know how much longer he would be able to keep his hands off his wife. It had been a little over a month since the twins were born and after witnessing the pain of childbirth he was hesitant to touch her. Besides, Elsa, his healer, had firmly suggested he give his wife time before resuming any intimacy with her. So he had kept his distance, though with great difficulty, especially so when he had walked in on her just after finishing a bath.
He shut his eyes, the memory so clear that it invaded his senses and turned him hard. Her breasts had been but a handful and now they were full, plump, and heavy with milk for the twins. Her waist had been narrow, her hips full, but now her curves were more defined, more sensual and her creamy skin was even softer to the touch.
Cree silently cursed his thoughts that had turned him harder and harder. And to make matters worse, Dawn had made it all too clear that while her body recovered from childbirth, she would be only too happy to ease his ache. He had been too concerned that they both would lose control, since their need for each other never seemed to abate. It only grew stronger and stronger. It was as if their intimacy sustained them, though he knew without love it would not have mattered. Dawn would be just another woman to poke and relieve his need. Now it was not about a simple poke, but about making love to his wife.
He took a deep breath to fortify himself and silently prayed that Dawn had fallen asleep.
Cree opened the door to find his wife standing by the bed in her white nightdress. One look told him that she was ready for bed, but not for sleep.
Dawn stared at her husband and she felt her stomach flutter and the ache between her legs grow stronger. She missed his strong body slipping over and into her and also the times he would hoist her up and plant her against a door or wall and make love to her with a fierce passion that sent her soul trembling.
She had known he had kept his distance from her on purpose. Elsa had told Dawn that she had advised Cree to leave his wife be for a while, and he had done just that. But she had gone too long without him. She was starving for his touch, his kiss, and to have him deep inside her.
Their abstinence would end tonight...she would make sure of it. And from the hungry look in his dark eyes and the bulge beneath his plaid, she did not think he would object.
Dawn sauntered over to him, letting her hips roll invitingly. When she reached him, she placed her hand to her chest, and then rested it on his chest.
Cree felt a jab to his gut. He always did when his wife told him that she loved him. Dawn may have been born without a voice, but to him he heard her clearly through her gestures.
Her hand moved slowly down his chest while her eyes remained on him, and the fierce passion he saw stirring in them was like storm clouds gathering before a raging storm that would pound the earth with much needed nourishing rain. That she hungered for him with the same such rage was undeniable.
Dawn intended for there to be no doubt that she wanted him, nor did she intend for him to deny her. She trailed her hand all the way down the front of him, and then slipped it beneath his plaid to gently cup him in her hand, though only for a moment. Her fingers wrapped around the hard length of him and her chest heaved with a sigh of pleasure. She had missed touching him, feeling him throb and swell in her hand before she would guide him into her. She stepped closer, eager to rub herself against him.
Cree’s hand shot out to grab the back of her neck. “I want you like I have never wanted you before, but what if I leave you with child tonight? I cannot bear the thought of you suffering again.”
Dawn motioned with her free hand as if she ate something, then patted her stomach and shook her head.
“You are taking the potion Elsa recommended to keep from getting with child,” he said with relief.
Dawn nodded, though quickly patted her stomach, then chest and pulled as if taking something from her mouth.
“Until you want another bairn, then you take it no more?”
She nodded and stroked him.
He groaned and smiled. “You know I am going to make love to you several times tonight, do you not?”
Dawn frowned, shook her head, and extended her arms out.
“You want to make love all night?”
She grinned widely as she nodded vigorously.
“You are a greedy one.”
She nodded again.
“So am I.” His lips came down on hers and passion exploded.
Dawn let go of him and threw her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his as if she could not get close enough to him.
He grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her up, and she wrapped her legs around him. His hands went to her buttocks and cupped it firmly as he continued kissing her, never wanting to stop.
He walked over to the bed, eased her down on her feet, and took hold of her face. “I have missed the taste of you and I intend to taste every part of you tonight.”
Dawn tapped her chest repeatedly and nodded, letting him know she felt the same.
“You are mine, Dawn, and I will love you always.” He kissed her and their hands went hastily to their garments.
A pounding at the door had Cree ripping his mouth away from Dawn and yelling, “Whoever is there go away or I will ripe your heart out with my bare hands!”
Dawn sighed heavily, not that it could be heard, and rested her brow to her husband’s chest. She silently pleaded that they not be robbed of this time together.
“It is urgent.”
“Nothing
is as urgent as what I am doing now.”
Dawn lifted her head and kissed her husband’s lips lightly, though she would have preferred to devour them. But it was better she let him settle this first before she kissed him senseless.
“Cree, you had better come now. It is urgent!”
“You are doomed, Sloan, if it is not,” Cree called out, though knew that Sloan, his second in command, would not bother him if it was not important. He only hoped the matter could be settled hastily.
“I may not be the only one doomed,” Sloan called back.
His reply sent a shiver through Dawn.
Cree took hold of her chin. “Worry not. I will settle this. Nothing will keep me from our bed this night.” He kissed her quick. “Do not move from this room. I will return.”
Dawn nodded and watched her husband disappear out the door, hoping his words would prove true.
Cree shut the door behind him and stood a moment, staring at Sloan.
Sloan motioned him away from the door and the two men walked down the hall to the stairs.
“What is it?” Cree asked worried that it might be something he could not settle as quickly as he wished.
“A woman demands to speak with you,” Sloan said.
“Demands?” Cree said angrily. “Who is she to demand anything of me?”
Sloan hesitated a moment before saying, “She claims the lad of two years she has with her is your son.”
Chapter 2
Cree entered the Great Hall with angry strides and stopped abruptly when the lone woman in the room turned away from the table, she had been bent over, to face him. Her beauty startled him for a moment, though he showed no signs of it. Dark ringlets fell around her lovely, unmarred face and neck from the mass of curls pinned atop her head and her large blue eyes glared at him as she tossed her chin up defiantly. She took a stance as if prepared for battle, though she could not keep her shoulders from slumping. She showed strength as well as exhaustion.
Cree was about to speak when she stepped aside to reveal a sleeping child on the top of the table. His light brown hair had threads of gold running through it, resembling Cree’s hair coloring, but his features bore no signs of Cree. Even with smudges on his face, he was a handsome child and looked well fed, not like his mother who was far too thin.
“He is your son. I named him Aidan. He is two years now.”
“So you say,” Cree said, approaching her slowly.
“I speak the truth.”
“Again so you say, but what reason do I have to believe you?” He stopped a few feet from her. “Why wait two years to claim him as mine?”
The woman stared at him a moment as if at a loss for words, then said, “He needs his father.”
“And so you chose me?”
“Like you chose me that night,” she said, forcing her shoulders back and her head up.
“And what night was that?” He folded his arms across his broad chest and settled his dark eyes, that could intimidate the bravest of souls, on her.
The woman took a step back. “It was a cold winter’s night and you sought shelter from the unfavorable weather at my family’s croft near Loch Rannoch. You asked me to warm your bed and I obliged.”
He had sought shelter from farmers now and again, though he had provided them with much needed items in exchange for their generosity. There was just one problem with her story.
“Never would I have been so disrespectful as to proposition a daughter of a farmer who granted me shelter.”
Her face flushed red with embarrassment. “You did not ask me to warm your bed. It was I who sought your bed.”
Her response troubled him, for that had happened on rare occasions Mostly, when he had been celibate far too long from far too many battles. He would spend a whole night appeasing his hunger only to poke the woman once again before leaving the next morning. But had she been one of the very few women?
Another question begged to be asked. “How can you be so sure the lad is mine?”
“I knew no other man before you or after you,” she said with great pride.
“So you say, but again it is only your word I have.”
Her chin went up a notch. “It is all I have left. My da was killed by a band of mercenaries a few days after you left. I was not there at the time or I would have suffered at their hands before meeting the same fate. I went to live with my sister, but her husband took ill and she could barely feed their family on what little they had. I knew it was time for me to seek you out and ask that you be a father to your son.”
“It is a good story you weave,” Cree said.
Before he could say more, the woman said, “It is the truth,” —she pointed to her sleeping son— “and he is proof of what I say.”
“He could be anyone’s son,” Cree argued his thoughts turning to Dawn and how she would feel when she heard of this.
“But he is not anyone’s son. He is your son.” She shook her head. “I cannot believe you do not remember me. You were so kind to me that night. I shall never forget how loved you made me feel.”
“I have been with many women and believe me when I say that if I bedded a woman as beautiful as you I would have remembered it.”
Her eyes turned wide, but not at his words, her glance had settled on something behind him and he knew who she was looking at. His heart clenched in his chest.
Cree turned and faced his wife.
She had slipped on a blue tunic over her nightdress but her feet remained bare and her dark eyes were wide with questions. Her hands began to move much too fast.
“Slow down,” Cree ordered.
“I believe Dawn is telling you to summon a servant and have a room prepared in the keep for the mother and her son,” Sloan said.
Cree shot him a look that had Sloan taking several steps back.
“You heard the whole tale?” Cree asked his wife.
“It is not a tale,” the woman called out.
Cree turned a scowl on the woman that had her quickly lowering her head, then he looked to his wife. This time her gestures were slow, much too slow.
He reached out, snatching her hand and yanked her to him. Keeping his voice low, he said, “Do not speak to me as if I were a child who cannot understand you. As for that woman, neither she nor her child will ever occupy this keep.” He grabbed her other hand before she could gesture. “I am not finished. The woman and her son will not be turned away. I will have a cottage provided for them while I sought this out.”
Dawn smiled and nodded pleased with his decision.
Cree knew his wife well and her smile lacked its usual enthusiasm. She was troubled and he could not blame her, though if she had obeyed him—which she was forever failing to do—she would not have heard him say that the woman was a beauty.
The thought annoyed him all the more and he said as he released her hands, “You will go to our bedchamber and stay there as I had ordered you to do, while I see to this.”
Dawn’s eyes narrowed.
“Do not think to disobey me on this,” he warned sternly.
She gestured, pointing to him and then to her, then tapped her mouth and pointed her finger up.
“We will not discuss this matter when I join you. I will see it resolved. You are not to concern yourself with it.”
Her hands went to gesture and he grabbed them. “No more. Do as I say now.”
Dawn’s eyes narrowed and she glared at him a moment before she turned and disappeared into the shadows near the stairs.
Cree turned to face the woman who had disrupted not only his night but his life. “I will see you have shelter and food as your father did for me, and one way or another I will have the truth from you.”
“Thank you, my lord,” the woman said with a bow of her head. “I knew an honorable man as yourself would not turn his child away.”
“That is yet to be determined,” Cree said. “Sloan will see you settled.”
Sloan stepped forward as Cree turned away from them.
“Your name?” Sloan asked.
“Tallis.”
The name resonated in Cree’s head. He had heard it before, but where?
Chapter 3
Cree sat hunched over the table with his hands wrapped around a tankard of ale, the crackling fire in the hearth behind him warming his back. Though summer would be with them for several more weeks, the castle contained a chill no matter what season of the year. He wondered if a chill would replace the heat he had seen in his wife’s eyes before Tallis had arrived.
He scowled and downed another swallow of ale.
“Fortifying yourself for the confrontation with your wife?” Sloan asked and swung his leg over the bench to join Cree at the table.
“Watch your tongue,” Cree warned.
Sloan filled a tankard of ale for himself. “You know Dawn will not let it be.”
“Do not remind me of her stubbornness.”
“Something you two have in common.” Sloan ignored how Cree’s scowl deepened, and he continued. “Dawn will want answers just as you do. I do not recall this woman, but then I was not with you at all times. You and I both have bedded many women along the way, so there is no point in asking if there is a possibility that the child is yours. I do, however, agree with you that Tallis is too beautiful of a woman not to remember.”
Cree’s nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. It disturbed him more and more that his wife had heard him claim the woman a beauty. It must have felt like a slap in the face to her or at least that was what he felt he had done to her.
Dawn would always be the most beautiful woman in the world to him, even with her plain features, and she had to know that. He had told her often enough. Still, though, his words had to have hurt her and if there was something that upset him beyond reason was the thought of hurting his wife.
“Do you recall Tallis at all?” Sloan asked.
“There is something familiar about her name,” —Cree shook his head— “but nothing else.”
Highlanders Short Story Collection Page 10