Finding My Highlander (8 page)

She wriggled under him pushing his throbbing tip into her folds, “Yes, yes please, now Kendrick, I want you. Now.”

Her answer, heavy with desire, clutched at his soul. In one fluid motion, he entered her. He stilled to let her grow accustomed to his invasion. She lifted her hips and thrust hard bringing him to the hilt of her womb. He withdrew slowly, then thrust back, lifting them to higher and higher pinnacles of pleasure as their pace increased. Compelled to connect completely, he kissed, licked, and grasped her to him and she responded in kind; each consumed by the intricate dance of need. Their movements synchronized, and despite the newness of their acquaintance, it felt as though they had been engaged in this dance all of their lives.

“Andra,
a stór
,” he moaned with a deep growl in the back of his throat, for she was already a treasure to him, even though he might try to deny it.

“Harder, Kendrick, more.” she panted. Her legs wrapped around his hips and she raked her nails across his muscled back. The sound of his name called out in the throes of passion pulsed in his brain. He wanted to hear her call to him repeatedly.

“Say it again. Tell me you want me again.”

When she cried out his name, he swallowed her voice, his tongue demanding and thrusting in rhythm with his hard shaft. Their vigorous joining, ravenous and without restraint, demanding in its fierceness, culminated with one, final explosion as they reached their climax in unison. He failed to withdraw before releasing his seed. Something he never did. She didn’t seem concerned and consideration of the possible consequences faded from his thoughts when their passion had swept him up like a turbulent wild wave on a stormy sea.

He collapsed on top of her. The sweat from their bodies melded and cooled in the night air. The scent of sex mingled with the smell of mint and lemon, a scent that was hers alone. He tried to pull away thinking his weight too much, but she wrapped her arms and legs around him, clutching him tightly to her body. He reached behind and pulled a portion of his plaid over them.

“
Mo chuisle
. You have undone me completely.” He lifted on his elbows and brushed damp hair away from her face, kissing her softly, gently touching her, still imbedded in her heat.

* * *

Andra thought she should be embarrassed, but she wasn’t. For the first time in her life, she understood how sorrow, fury, and a fearful rush of adrenaline required a sexual release. Refusing to argue with herself over the insanity of her behavior, she relinquished all thought to his heat and the exquisite feel of his lavish invasion.

Their coupling had been more intense than anything Andra had previously experienced. She’d known very few lovers. Of course, Ray, the father of her child, rotten as he had turned out, was the worst. They had met in their last year of college. He had stolen her heart, then smashed it irrevocably with his thoughtless indifference. Following the car accident that claimed their baby’s life, he visited her only a few times in the hospital and then disappeared. She never saw him again. In recent years, however, she had kept busy, helped her father with the pharmacy, worked on producing her own line of scented oils and body lotions, and stayed away from men and the painful memories they evoked.

There had never been a lover like Kendrick. Perhaps the extreme circumstances of where and when she found herself could account for her behavior. She did not care about the why, she felt sensually alive, as she hadn’t in years, perhaps ever. The raw heat and sexual release helped burn away her pain and fear.

Her hands thrilled at the solid feel of him. His spicy, male scent, the musky smell of their loving and the heady aroma of pine surrounded them. The crisp, clean air held the scent of rain and damp earth. She was drowning in these new smells and sensations. Their sexual encounter might be the most reckless thing she had ever done in her life, but she’d not regret a single second of it.

Andra returned his light kisses and ran her hands through the sweat-soaked strands of his hair. “Perhaps we should dress and go back before someone comes looking for us.”

He chuckled, but he did not pull away. “Nae, they’ll not disturb us, my sweet.”

A weighted sigh escaped her swollen lips. “Thank you, Kendrick.”

“You thank me?” he sounded incredulous. “Why do you thank me for disregarding your virtue? For taking advantage of you in a moment of pain and distress?” He brushed his mouth against her forehead and gently cradled her face with hands that could easily crush.

She laughed at his musing and then realized he was serious. “Well, I think I needed that. Perhaps we both needed that release.”

“Aye, mayhap so. Do you often release your anxieties in such a manner?”

She tensed under him the moment the words escaped his mouth. “No, I do not! Don’t let it swell your head, Laird MacLean.” There was no doubt she’d needed that carnal release, but in hindsight, recognized it might reduce her standing with this powerful man. She pushed her fists hard against his chest, trying to roll away.

He tightened his hold on her. “Nae, Andra, forgive my foolishness. I meant no disrespect. It was a bad attempt at levity. You’ll learn that about me. I’m not good with the witty repartee.”

Her fingers reached to stroke through his hair and along his jaw. “I think we both craved that release, laird.”

“Kendrick,” he corrected. “After what we have just shared, you must call me Kendrick. Aye, I believe you’re right. We both needed that passion. I’m truly sorry to have spoiled this perfect joining. Please forgive my—please accept my apology for any harm my words or deeds may have caused you.”

She could hardly believe he asked her forgiveness.

He showered kisses over her face. “I’m thinking these past few days have unsettled you, Andra. Most women would have succumbed to weeping and wailing especially after the scene you witnessed yesterday. Have you witnessed battle before?”

Even now, he probed for answers about her past. “No Kendrick, all my battles have been of a different nature. What I witnessed last night was too terrifying for words. One could hardly refer to it as a battle—it was a complete massacre. If you don’t mind, I’d rather not revisit it, especially now.”

“Of course not,” he soothed, pressing his lips to her temple. “You’re a most amazing woman. I understand your need to relieve tension from these past days, and I’ll not regret our joining. I hope you’ll have no regrets either.”

She patted his cheek and gave him a quick smile. “No regrets, Kendrick. Life is too short.”
Where in the hell did that come from? All my relationships have been full of regrets. Well, no more.
Perhaps this was a turning point, no more regrets, no more self-recrimination. A good adage to live by, one with which her father would agree.

“We should go back,” she repeated with barely a whisper and turned her head away from his renewed kissing and the swell increasing between her legs. She needed to regroup, gather her thoughts.

He hesitated a moment, pressed a kiss to her forehead, then rolled away and helped her up. They dressed in silence and dusted themselves off, brushing the leaf and pine debris from each other’s clothing. When he gripped her butt and pulled her into his arms for one final, bruising kiss, evidence of his renewed arousal pressed firmly against her belly. Her nether regions wept in response. The man fulfilled every fantasy she’d ever held about lusty Highland lairds, and then he gently released her.

Though their arms brushed as they walked, they did not use their hands to touch. She stepped a few paces ahead of him when they reached the cave, and he permitted it. She entered with her head held high. Gliding past the men, she went to the pool in the rear of the cave. The men halted their conversation as she passed, then resumed talking as if nothing were amiss.

What must they think of me
? Females were not so brazen in this time. In fact, women who slept with men outside of marriage were mistresses or whores or bar wenches, which was the same thing. They were chattel, had little or no rights, lived hard, grueling lives and frequently died early in childbirth. So why was she throwing herself at this man with complete abandon? She chose not to examine the answer to that question too closely.

The emotions welling inside her felt as foreign as going to Mars, or to a time as completely removed from her prior life as she could have ever imagined. Passion, fear, anxiety, inexplicable joy—how could one feel all that at the same time? Though she didn’t want him or the others to have a low opinion of her, she refused to consider this recent diversion a mistake. Would it affect her safety with them? Possibly. Of course, it doubtless didn’t matter, Kendrick being laird, could do as he pleased, and no one would take issue with him. Nothing could undo the deed and as she’d told him, she would not regret their loving. For now, she’d leave these worries for another day because it felt like her bones had turned to slush, and the sleep she so desperately needed might finally come.

Chapter Eleven

The following day passed in relative quiet. Andra and Kendrick exchanged a few discreet glances but did not converse other than a brief morning greeting before the men went on patrol. Andra stayed busy, tending the children who were still very withdrawn. Lorne improved steadily, despite being very weak. An easy banter was developing between them.

“Lass, I believe you owe me that story now. Your mystery intrigues me, and I assume we should be calling you m’lady, ‘tis that not the truth of it?” He glanced at the rings on her fingers and the cross at her throat.

“Andra will do,” she said, folding her hands into her lap.

His lips quirked into a smile but there was no humor in his eyes. He searched her face for answers but she had none to give and turned to check on the children.

He continued, “As Struan says, you seem to have a wealth of mysterious things in yon bag of yers, and you dress—well, unusual let us say. You speak with a strange tongue, like a Sassenach, but different. Struan tells me you’re a Cameron as well. Now that is a frightful combination, being a Sassenach and a Cameron.”

His dark-blond eyebrows hitched to the middle of his forehead, belying his attempt at casual regard. “How do you reckon we trust you when they are our fiercest enemies, a pack of reiving cutthroats who join the Sassenach when it suits their thieving purposes? From your own telling and your unusual accent, you seem to be both. Now, I dinnae wish to appear ungrateful for the help you have rendered on my behalf, but you can understand why these questions need answers. Surely you can tell me more of your kin or travels?”

She studied him carefully. Oh, how she ached to tell him the truth. Her head tilted slightly to the side, “I know you have many questions. As I’ve told your brother, much of what has happened is beyond my understanding. I do not know of any kin in Scotland. My father took us away when I was a baby, not even as old as Kyle is. My mother had already died. When my father lay on his deathbed, he requested I bring his ashes to Scotland. It is true that my family name is Cameron. Nevertheless, I do not know these Cameron of whom you speak. In fact, other than you and Kendrick’s men, I know no one in Scotland. It is as much a mystery to me as to you.”

“You speak aboot your father’s ashes. You ken, what that suggests?”

She maintained steady eye contact when she responded, hoping that would help “I understand, but sometimes while in strange places, one must comply with their customs for safety purposes. And I could not travel such long distances transporting my father’s dead body.” Even to her ears that sounded like a paltry excuse.

Lorne grunted, shifted his position, and seemed to ponder her answer. “Hmm—you traveled to heathen lands, then?”

“On occasion, my father traveled with other men interested in learning about botanical plants and their medicinal properties.” She hoped this answer would assuage his curiosity and not lead to further questions that might endanger her security. Didn’t her kindness toward him and the bairns reveal her in an unthreatening light? Hadn’t she displayed appropriate appreciation and deference? Well, except for last night. That proved to be appreciation of a completely different nature.

She deftly redirected their conversation. “Let’s clean your wounds and change the bandages. If you are careful, you might want to get up and move about. It may prevent that leg from stiffening too severely.”

“Ah, I see you’ll not answer my questions now. Do not think to avoid our inquiries indefinitely. I like you, Andra. I think we’ll become friends and eventually you’ll give up those secrets you hold so tightly. ‘Twould be best for all concerned if you did so sooner rather than later.”

“Mmmm.” Andra continued to redress Lorne’s wounds. “I’d like nothing better than to answer all of your questions, but I can only provide answers to things I remember clearly. It does seem my memory became scrambled after I hit my head.”

Lorne let the matter drop. The men returned later that night, accompanied by a man named John. The man stood several inches shorter and had a less pleasing countenance than her rescuers, but he equaled them in muscled strength. A bushy, unkempt beard and wildly windblown hair partially obscured his face. Yet he possessed the same Highlander focus—fierce and penetrating. He eyed her with avid curiosity as Kendrick introduced John as a member of the MacLean clan.

Andra had cooked the rabbits in a stew using dried oats for thickening, which she served to the men in crude wooden trenchers. They all ate voraciously while the men discussed leaving on the morrow. Other than a nod in her direction when she placed the meal into their hands, they did not include her in their conversation, though they did not hide their discussion by asking her to leave or by quieting their voices.

“I am willing to stay with you, Lorne, if you think you need more time before riding,” offered John. “Now that me and the men have recovered most of the cattle, the Camerons seem to have withdrawn to their filthy castle again, lousy bastard’s—er—beggin’ yer pardon m’lady.”

Evidently, John knew of her Cameron last name. He didn’t seem to know what to make of Andra. None of the others offered any explanations about her presence, and she had no idea what they might have told him prior to his arrival.

“No offense, they are nothing to me,” she said, “but you might want to consider your language when you speak around the little ones.”

The astonished expressions on their faces made her want to laugh, but she refrained. Kendrick started to say something, then stopped when she turned away, leading the children to their pallets.

There would be no repeat of last night’s events; she decided to keep her distance from Kendrick. What could she say to him? “
Oh, please forgive me for ripping off your clothes last night. I am just a wild, lustful woman out of time and place who’s completely lost her mind!”
Not likely. Besides, in the light of a new day he seemed neither interested nor disturbed by the event. And why should he? As a hot, hunky Highland laird, women probably threw themselves at him all the time. She got what she needed, he got what he needed, and that would be the end of it.

Nevertheless, thoughts of his warm hands and mouth on her body made her nether regions wet with desire.
Stop it this instant, Andra.
She could not and would not become another sniveling conquest. Men of this era were likely to be as bad or worse as men from her time; she’d be just another notch on the proverbial belt.

She only needed to survive long enough to return home; yet thoughts of home only filled her with a grinding emptiness. Who was waiting for her? No one of importance needed her. Dad’s partner at the pharmacy was more than capable of handling the business without her assistance. Her private line of hand creams and bath oils was not a burgeoning business that required her immediate attention. She turned her mind from these sad stressful thoughts. Instead, she sang to the children.

* * *

Listening to Andra sing brought the previous night’s tryst to Kendrick’s mind. He had bedded many women in his life, had even been married, but the intensity of their coupling profoundly disquieted him. His desire for her increased every time she glanced his direction. The scent and sight of her conspired to make him hard, distracted, and filled him with a need that went far beyond slacking his lust.

A demanding ride scouting the countryside earlier that day had done nothing to reduce his urge to return and claim her again. All he could think about was the feel of her under him, the softness of her skin, and the intensity of her lovemaking. Yet, the confounded mystery of her appearance, and continued reluctance to trust him with her story disturbed him more. He must unravel those mysteries before he allowed himself to taste her passion again.

He stood abruptly, “We’ll pack up and leave before first light. We can stay tomorrow night at Red Jack’s Inn. John, you’ll scout ahead, secure rooms at the inn and reconnoiter for enemies in the area.”

“Do you think that wise, Kendrick?” asked Struan, always the cautious one. “How do you intend to explain yon lass and bairns at the inn?”

“I’ll think of something. Besides, even at a slow pace, it will be hard on Lorne, and I don’t want to leave him here. He’ll need a bed to rest in before we make the last push for home.”

“Och, dinnae fash so over me,” Lorne grinned. “I have Lady Andra’s tablets. No doubt, the lady herself will watch over me. I’ll manage well enough. She has proven more than capable, wouldn’t you agree, Kendrick?”

It appeared as though Andra had drifted off to sleep next to the bairns, but Kendrick suspected she listened carefully to their banter. He did not want his brother or anyone else to presume an attachment between him and the lass and pierced Lorne with a quelling stare. His brother only chuckled and rolled over.

They had always enjoyed sparring with both weapons and words over the years. Now, however, Kendrick was not amused with his brother’s obvious prodding. No doubt Lorne had noticed his veiled glances and discomfited avoidance of Andra. Though no one had commented on the previous evening, his brother rarely missed anything when it came to the lasses. “You best rest while you can, wee brother. If you fall off your horse on the morrow, I might just let the beast drag you back home.”