Claiming the Highlander (12 page)

Her father lifted the bowl and drank the broth. He rose from the table and set his bowl in the bucket. “’Night.”

Oran’s golden brown brows flashed.

“Finish yer meal. He’s just sittin’ before the fire.”

Oran began to eat again without speaking. Her father shot looks at them. His bushy brows pulled low as they shot glances and smiles across the table. The meal was over before she wanted it to be.

“Thank ye fae the invite.”

Her father nodded, not turning to look. Oran winked. She walked him to the door and then went outside.

“Thank ye fae the meal. Ye cook better than me.”

“One day, I may learn if ye speak the truth or being nice.”

“I will cook ye the grandest meal.”

“I’ll like that verra much.”

He seemed to be debating whether to walk away or lingered with her for a time. He must have come to a decision. He kissed her. Their lips fitted perfectly to each other. She was a buzz of sensations—a race of excitement yet a calmness. He drew out the chaste caress. He slowly pulled away. She swayed and her eyes opened. She clutched his liene to steady herself. Every nerve ending of her mouth pulsated, which matched her speeding heart. She hungered for another one.

He ambled away. He turned around and waved at her. She lifted her hand in return. The growing darkness engulfed him. As she lowered it, she touched her lips. What was she to do? Marry Manus for her family or follow her heart?

Chapter Six

Brenna leaned away from the sharp blade hovering near her face. “There is no need to wave these things about.”

Cook lowered the sharp knife. “My lady, she took the kitchen lad frae his chore. He was supposed to be watchin’ the meal an’ naw the beef isna cooked properly. Tonight’s meal is ruined all because she needed him to run an errand fae her.”

“’Twas just an errand. I needed the cream fae the laird,” One of Cook’s assistants retorted.

“Send yer own boy.” Cook pointed the blade at her.

“Enough!” Brenna held up her hand. “I cannot believe that you cannot save tonight’s meal with your skill. You surely can do it.”

“Aye, my lady. That I can do.” She smoothed her hands down her apron.

“As for the cream, for the benefit of your laird, you must do all you can to help him.”

“I ken, my lady.”

“Good and this disturbance is postponing his meal, so let’s return to work, and if another kitchen boy is needed, then I shall send one to you.”

The lairdess swept in. “Whatever is happening?”

“All has been solved.” Brenna approached her mother-in-law. “Please return to your important duties.”

Escorting her back to the tower, Brenna said, “I am sorry you were taken away from the laird’s side. I have handled it, so do not fret.”

“Good,” the lairdess said. “’Tis a beautiful day.”

“That it is.”

“I shall return to the chamber. Oh, there is Caelen.”

He joined them and gave a peck to his mother’s awaiting cheek. “All is well?”

“Not well, but unchanged. I’m returning to your father.” She made her way to the tower.

Caelen planted his palm on the small of Brenna’s back. “Now that I have found you, you must come with me.”

“I must?” She grinned.

“Do not play with me, wife.” He slammed his hands on his hips. “I know you wish to come with me, so you can end this act.” His hair draped over his face, softening the harsh visage.

“True and
you
want me as well.” She composed her features in the best determined face she could muster. She wondered if she looked as fierce as he did.

“I wouldn’t have gotten you otherwise.” He shook his head slightly, as if confused by her words.

“That is not what I mean and you know this,” she said, waiting to hear his retort.

He let out a long, drawn out sigh. “I feel that agreeing with you would be easier.”

“You haven’t agreed with me.” She wagged a finger at him.

He snagged her finger. “You are right.” He nipped at its soft pad. “Now come along.” He tucked her arm under his and started across the courtyard.

She walked on the balls of her feet to match his long stride. Brenna was of average height, but Caelen still loomed over her. That was another thing she liked about him.

She opened her mouth to ask him where he was dragging her off to when they entered the stable.

Coinneach jumped to his feet and caught the egg as it rolled to the edge of his hand. “Why, my lord, must I carry this aboot everyw’ere?”

“Training. You wanted to train.”

Coinneach scratched his head. “How is this trainin’?”

“Two orders—one, you don’t question me. Second, that egg will give you soft hands and quick reactions as well as control over your body.”

“If ye say so, my lord.” Coinneach scrunched up his face as he stared at his open hand and the egg resting in his palm.

Caelen ordered him to saddle Thor. Coinneach stared down at the egg as if he was deciding what to do with it. He shrugged then popped it in his mouth.

“Smart lad,” Caelen said. Coinneach swaggered away.

“Do we ride somewhere?”

Caelen gave no answer.

“Are you off somewhere?”

He crossed his arms.

“Caelen, I do not like this.”

Coinneach returned with Thor saddled and the egg still in his mouth. He popped it into his free hand and beamed. Caelen took the leads and headed outside. Brenna didn’t wish to follow him. Her stupid curiosity had her putting one foot in front of the other. He swung into the saddle, bent down, and grabbed her about the waist. She was in the air, and then he planted her before him.

“Is this my punishment for stealing—borrowing Thor?”

He rested his lips against her ear. “You will have to be patient.” His breath breezed against her and sent a hot shiver through her.

She swung her head toward him. “That is something I have the most difficulty with.”

“Then this is training for you.”

She snorted so forcefully, she tossed her head. The back of her head knocked against his chin. He set Thor off. As they left the castle, her uneasiness grew. There was no reason to fire questions at her husband. He would not even give her a hint.

He pulled over on the soft slope of the hill with a spattering of trees that overlooked the clattan. She tried to dismount. He stopped her with a press of his hand to her waist. He dismounted.

“You will learn to ride.”

“I will?” she asked. “I do not see any reason for that.”

“Truly. You have stolen my horse and ridden off. If you did it once, you will again. I can’t have a dead wife.”

She smiled.

“Why are you smiling?”

“You wish me alive.”

“Of course, I don’t have time to find another wife.”

“That is a falsehood. You wish only me to be your wife.” Thor jumped as she dropped the reins.

He swept them up and handed them back to her. “First lesson, do not drop the reins. The horse will go off wherever he desires.”

She lifted the reins straight to show her hold. Thor sidestepped and tossed his head.

“Don’t hold too tight. He will fight you.”

She loosened her hold.

“Sit back and loose hipped,” he instructed as he fixed her seat. “Very well. A few lessons. Feel his energy, but don’t challenge him. He is not a light horse. Keep your eyes forward. You look like you want to ask a question.”

“What if Thor wants to go left and I want to go right?”

“It’s in the eyes. Keep them where you want to go. You have to lead him not fight him. You wish to say something.”

“But he fights me.”

“What do you do with the servants?”

“I lead them.”

He nodded. She was still confused, but said nothing. “Now, give him a tap, easy on the reins, and he’ll walk.”

She did as he ordered. Thor moved forward for five steps and then halted. “You have to lead him.”

“When I rode him, he seemed to know where to go. Is that not correct, Thor?”

Thor reached back to bite her.

“He doesn’t like to be spoken to. Go.”

“Why ever not?”

“That I don’t know since he doesn’t talk to me.”

She giggled. Caelen smiled in return. His cheek flushed a warm pink and the blue of his eyes gleamed.

“No talking to Thor.” She tapped her heels. Thor never moved. She tapped harder. Thor moved nine steps—she counted—then halted and munched on grass. She heard Caelen’s groan.

“You must be at ease on a horse. Don’t be stiff in the saddle.” She slumped low. “Not like that. Come.” He stretched out his arms.

She went happily, jumping into them. Back on her feet, she thought the lesson complete. She let out a relieved exhale. He slipped behind her. She stood stiffly, waiting to see what he did. He grasped her hips and drew her against his pelvis.

“There is a rhythm to riding. You have to follow it.” He pushed his hips forward and set her to follow. “Roll your hips.”

She squirmed against him to find her fit. Through layers of wool and linen, she felt his manhood jutting against her buttocks. She knew she wore a wicked visage on her face. He shifted his hips and guided her with his hands. She rolled her hips forward and back, finding the rhythm. She leaned against him. His fingers bit into her hips. The tempo sped up. A languid heat built up, spreading from her chest and up her neck and checks. Her mouth parted slightly for some air.

Caelen snaked his hand around her waist. His hand splayed low on her stomach. He kissed the tender side of her neck. He caught the flesh between his lips. His roughen tongue scraped the pulsating spot. Her head rolled to the side as she luxuriated in the sensual sensation of his caress.

“I love the way you taste. Sweet and tart.”

Slowly, she melted. A wild tattoo thumped in her ears.

“Brenna,” he whispered. His words trembled against the throbbing vein beneath her flesh. A hitch rushed through her and she shuddered. She clasped his hand, interlocking their fingers. She needed to hold on or she would crumble at his feet.

“How do you do this to me?” He seemed to be begging for an answer.

She licked her lips as she shook her head.

He cupped her chin and angled her head backward. His mouth captured hers with urgency. Each stroked of his tongue demanded she match his raw, ravenous desire. She wrapped her tongue around his. He groaned, and then spun her around. He lifted her and carried her. To where, she didn’t know and had no care. Their bodies melded from pelvis to mouth. She buried her hands in his hair. Her nails scraped his scalp.

He slid her along his body as he set her down. She touched ground and he ripped his mouth away. In the back of her throat, she made a sound that was meant to voice her displeasure. She yanked him back. He nipped at her lower lip, and then kissed her with small, teasing pecks.

Against her mouth, he said, “I’m teaching you to ride…me.”

He lowered himself to the grassy earth, laid on his back, and drew her atop him. He parted her legs so she straddled him. His hard manhood jutted against her. He slipped his hands under her skirts and inched up her thigh. His calloused skin scraped her tender flesh. He cupped her and parted her curls. She rubbed against him. He drifted his hand away. He flung up his plaid. He guided her hand to his manhood. She gripped him. He pushed up as her hold tightened.

She lifted slightly and guided him to her opening. He came into her with a body-racking groan. She stilled. For the briefest of moments, she had satisfaction, and then her body demanded more. She slid down the hard length of him.

She rose to the tip. When she came down again, his eyes closed. His hold loosened on her, letting her lead. Between his lashes, she saw his eyes, glazed with passion. He planted his feet and surged upward. She rode him harder and faster. As primal knowledge guided her, she found the rhythm, rolling her hips. She wanted—nay—needed him deeper. Her knees dug into the earth, and she planted her hands flat on the grass on either side of his head. Her moans grew. Her breast jiggled over his face.

Through the linen, he sucked on the hard nipples. A coil spun low in her gut, tightening with each stroke. He gripped her hips and he jerked. She threw back her head and cried out her release, flinging blades of grass she ripped from the earth. She collapsed atop him. Her bones melted.

She blinked, aware of her surroundings again. The zinging flutter of the leaves was the first sound she heard. The tanginess of grass, earth, and maleness hung thickly. A breeze swept against her heated cheeks, cooling her slightly. She lifted halfway up. Caelen lay beneath her, a ghost of a smile on his mouth.

He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. With the other, he gave her a playful slap on her arse. “Woman, this wasn’t the lesson.”

“Perhaps not, husband, but this was the best lesson I ever had.”

“Are you feeling well?”

“Never better. I can do anything.” She threw out her arms out.

“Good. Time to get back on the horse.” He rose up on his elbows.

She plucked grass from his hair. “Nay.” He grabbed hold of her and stood. He set her down. “I am getting tired of you picking me up and just putting me where you wish.”

“Don’t worry, you never stay.”

She stuck out her tongue. He snapped at her tongue then kissed her again.  Breaking it off, he spun her around and guided her to Thor.

“You plan to throw me on him,” she grumbled.

He chuckled. Before he could throw her on Thor, she mounted. For the first time, the animal didn’t try to bite her.

“Remember everything I told you.”

She kicked her heels and kept her eyes forward. She saw Thor’s ears twitch. She didn’t bounce about. She kicked her heels again.

Thor surged ahead and picked up speed. Faster and faster he went. Caelen ran beside her.

“Pull back on the reins,” his bellow echoed around her.

She didn’t pull on the reins. She bounced about. Her heels struck his side. Tap. Tap. Tap. And the faster he ran. She closed her eyes.

Then Thor halted. She kept going through the air. She screamed. Her arms flailed as the earth drew closer. She landed. Breath burst from her chest. It rushed back as bone-breaking pain racked her. All was a blur. She wanted to do nothing but close her eyes. So, she did.