Her Highland Rogue: A Wild Highland Guardian Novel (15 page)

T
EN DAYS LATER…

Her wedding day had arrived, and Aileana paced nervously within the confines of her mother’s home. A secret ceremony was planned, the kind of celebration she’d always dreamt of, taking her vows before God and the people she loved most.

“You shouldna worry yourself so,” Sgùrr said. “I’ve agreed to let your father and uncle attend, and Errol will be here soon enough. The missive I received yesterday expressed his infinite joy knowing you’d be his dear wife. And there’s a gift…”

Aileana clapped her hands together, always eager to see what her betrothed would give her next. In the last week he’d presented her with a white mare, a gold bracelet, and more gowns than she could count. Not that she wanted anything, his love had been more gratifying than she ever imagined possible.

It had taken an edict from Laird MacRae to let her spend a few days with her mother in the mountains. And though Broc was dead and she was no longer in danger, three guards escorted her, and whenever she ventured outside, they stayed with her at all times. Things had changed drastically since she returned from Skye. Her soon-to-be father-in-law knew everything about her past, and accepted her even though she was a MacDonald. To the rest of the clan, she remained the pitiful little foundling that won the heart of the future laird, for no one outside the immediate family need know the truth.

“Here it is, child.” Her mother handed her something wrapped in a fur.

She sat at the table and opened it with care, finding a gold pendant in the shape of a hand holding a sword. Turning it over, she read the single word inscribed on the back,
Fortitudine.
Latin for
with fortitude,
the MacRae clan motto. The attached missive simply read—
Wear this with pride, Lady MacRae, yer the future of our clan.

Chills suffused her whole body as she regarded the delicate chain. She understood the significance of it. Though Errol accepted her blood tie with the MacDonalds, he didn’t like to see her wear the galley pendant that originally belonged to her sire—the emblem of his family’s power. It reminded him of Broc’s betrayal and her father, who Errol couldn’t accept quite yet.

“What did you get?” Her mother joined her.

“Something priceless,” she said, offering the letter.

Sgùrr read it, then laid it on the table. “A better man doesna exist.”

“Sometimes I fear I’m not worthy of his love. What if I fail to meet his expectations? What if the clan never fully accepts me?”

Sgùrr took the chain out of her hands, and walked behind her. “Lift your hair.”

Once the clasp was secured, her mother sat on the chair across from her.

“In what way do you think you could fail him, child? Hasn’t enough time passed for you to see how much he loves you? That he accepts you for the good and bad, that no one can stand in the way of your destinies? ’Twas something I foresaw all those years ago I left you in the woods. I knew then what I know now, the MacRaes will bring peace to these lands someday, and yer the beginning of that process.”

It had taken much introspection to accept what her mother had done—abandon her. But if she hadn’t, Aileana knew she wouldn’t be sitting there, waiting on her future husband to arrive.

She reached for her mother’s hands across the table. “Thank you.”

“Aye,” Sgùrr said, her eyes wet with tears. “I am a proud woman this day. And though our connection must remain a secret because I am a MacDonald, know I will always watch over you. This place is your second home. And in time, once your life is more settled, I will reveal the mysteries the women in our family treasure.”

“Milady?” a guard called from outside.

Sgùrr rose and walked to the entrance, pulling the skin flap aside. “Have our guests arrived?”

“Aye.”

Laird MacDonald and Cian stepped inside and Aileana rushed to greet them.

“Father,” she said, opening her arms for a hug.

His usually serious expression softened. “I am very happy to see ye again.”

The embrace lasted longer than Aileana expected. Maybe someday they’d love each other, but for now she appreciated just having a father. Then she turned to her uncle. “Thank you for making the journey, milord. I know what risks you took coming here.”

He grinned. “ ’Tis not every day my niece gets married.”

Sgùrr served them some ale, stew, and bread before she showed them to one of the subchambers in the intricate network of caves she lived in. The main room was off-limits to the men, for Aileana must prepare for the ceremony.

A few hours later, wearing a yellow gown her mother had given her, her hair loose the way Errol preferred, and the gold chain, she stepped into the afternoon sunshine, where her family and the man she loved waited. Taking in the natural splendor that surrounded her, she gazed across Loch Duich, in the direction of the Isle of Skye. She thanked God for answering her lifelong prayer to know where she’d come from.

But more importantly, for giving her a second chance in life. For a moment she thought she was dreaming, for she couldn’t remember a time Errol had looked so handsome, his perfect smile a reward just for her as she approached the bonfire. With her mother and father standing behind her and Errol to her right, she listened intently as the priest blessed them in Latin and then offered the vows.

Errol cradled her hand in his, his strong fingers squeezing hers occasionally, their gazes meeting, then shooting back to the holy man.

And once she promised to love and honor her husband, to protect Clan MacRae with her life, and remember that she’d be cherished for eternity, the priest consecrated their union, making the sign of the cross over their heads, and smiled.

This was the part Aileana had waited for—the moment when her new husband would seal their love with a sacred kiss. He kissed her, pulling her against his hard body, his tongue gently urging her lips apart. It wasn’t chaste, but a kiss that hinted at immeasurable passion. His gray eyes burned with love and lust, and her body tingled all over in anticipation of what was to come. She wanted him in every way.

The wedding feast was simple, fresh venison with garlic and onions, cabbage and beans, wine and ale, and sweet bread Edme and Margot had sent with Errol.

As the sun set, Errol whispered to his wife, “ ’Tis time to wish our guests a good night.”

Aileana stood thinking as she watched her husband gather a flagon of ale and two cups. Precious memories had been made tonight, which also marked the beginning of her new life. What astounded her even more was that the MacRaes and MacDonalds were sitting side by side in her mother’s home, at peace with one another. Miracles still happened, and she closed her eyes and once again whispered her thanks to the Lord.

“Are you well?” Errol caressed her cheek, and she opened her eyes to find him standing in front of her.

“Aye,” she said. “Better than you’ll ever know.”

He smiled warmly, offering his hand. “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweet Aileana. ’Tis the first time I will take you into my arms as my wife. Something I’ve dreamed of.”

“Did I ever tell you how much I love you?”

“Nay,” he said.

“ ’Tis impossible to put into words, milord.”

He growled playfully then, his gaze slowly drifting down her body. “I’ve told you sometimes words doona suffice. Now show me the place where we can make love.”

Sgùrr had worked very hard to prepare a bridal chamber for them. Aileana led Errol to a cozy alcove where candles had been lit, illuminating the straw-stuffed mattress covered with furs and embroidered pillows.

Errol set the ale and cups on the floor, then embraced her from behind, his soft lips blazing a trail down the side of her neck. She shivered with delight, and sighed when he nipped her earlobe. Then he gently moved her hair to the side and began to unlace her dress. Too afraid to break the magic of the moment, she stood completely still, letting him do as he pleased. For earlier he had whispered naughty things in her ear, promising this night belonged to her.
I will worship you forever. Love you forever. Cherish you forever. And fill you with my seed forever.

She swayed as he stripped her gown off, then stepped around her and knelt at her feet, slowly removing her wool leggings. He placed feather-soft kisses on the top of her thighs, working his way lower. One knee, then the other, all the way down to her ankles.

“Errol…”

“Yer perfect,” he murmured, pausing to look up at her.

“I-I…”

“Doona speak, lass.”

He nudged her legs apart, and before she knew what he was doing, filled her with his fingers and tongue—tracing exquisite shapes inside her, making it nearly impossible to stay upright.

Her first release came on a muted cry, and Errol sat on his heels, a triumphant smile on his face.

“Did I make my point, lass? Are words necessary tonight?”

She shook her head vigorously, ready for him to get naked, too.

“Good,” he said, standing up.

Unwilling to miss her chance, she reached for the brooch that secured his plaid over his left shoulder, then leisurely opened his tartan. Sure to tickle his exposed skin, she then removed his linen shirt. In the glow of the candlelight his muscular body looked divine—this man she’d taken as her husband must be from another world. He let out a sigh as she traced his body with both hands, massaging his ballocks and manhood with growing fascination.

She loved how long and hard he was whenever they were together. And the clear liquid that dripped out of the opening made it easier to stroke his length. She did it over and over again, and he hissed at her, begging her to stop.

“No,” she denied him. “You’ve had your way with me. Now it’s my turn to give you pleasure.”

But it only lasted a few more seconds, for he pulled her into his arms, and somehow wrestled her onto the mattress. She giggled uncontrollably as he kissed her collarbone, then her overly sensitive nipples, moving to her belly button before he captured her right foot in his hand.

“Do you know what I do to unruly lasses who don’t obey me?”

“Lasses?” She raised her eyebrows.

“
My
lass,” he corrected.

“Nay,” she said. “Show me.”

His wicked grin should have served as a warning, for she nearly kicked him in the face when he sucked her great toe into his mouth. “Errol!” She squirmed and tried to get away, but he held on tight.

“There’s only one escape,” he said.

“Anything.” It tickled so much she was breathless.

“Get on your knees, Aileana.” His eyes grew wide and dark.

The thought of him taking her from behind excited her, and she immediately did as he asked. She held her breath as he got into position behind her. When he didn’t say anything or move, she thought something was wrong.

“Errol?”

“Lass,” he said hoarsely. “I’m captivated by the vision before me.” He slipped an arm about her waist. “If it hurts, even a little, tell me.”

She’d take the pain, because she wanted to feel him inside her. Her love for Errol had made her weak, and she’d do anything to please him, especially in the bedchamber. Slick and ready for him, she felt nothing but unadulterated pleasure as he slid inside her. She fisted her hands in the fur as he hammered deep, filling her then withdrawing, the exquisite friction and heat taking her to the edge.

Dear God, she loved him. So much.

“Aileana…I canna hold it.”

Rendered speechless by the force of their shared climax, Errol rolled off of her and pulled her into his arms.

“Is it like that for everyone?” she asked.

“Nay,” he said. “I’ve never felt this way with anyone.”

She swelled with pride, and rested her cheek against his chest.

“When we get back to the keep, what is the first thing you’d like to do as Lady MacRae?”

Since the day of their betrothal, Aileana had decided when she had the power to make important decisions, she wanted to reward her aunties for their years of unconditional love. “I’d like to assign less vigorous work to Edme and Margot. They deserve more time to themselves.”

“Aye,” he agreed. “You’ll need a lady’s maid, perhaps one of them…”

“No,” Aileana laughed. “I willna have both of them in my bedchamber every morn bickering about which gown I should wear.”

He chuckled. “Whatever you choose, I trust your judgment, sweet one.” He yawned, then kissed the top of her head. “You’ve worn me out.”

“Sleep, then,” she said, happy to lay in his arms. “When you awaken, I will be here.”

“Aye.”

Within a few minutes, her beautiful husband was asleep. She draped her arm over his chest, gazing at his face. He belonged to her now. The wild boy she first met in the kitchens. The lad who thought she didn’t see him hiding in the trees when she stripped down to her shift in the summer and took long swims in the loch. The man who watched her walk across the great hall with a tray in her hands. The man who she dared not talk to, for she never felt worthy of his attention.

But after today, she realized how wrong she’d been.

They were made for each other—a perfect match like the moon and stars. And as she finally faded to sleep, Aileana knew she’d love Errol MacRae forever.

To Sue-Ellen Welfonder—thank you for all the love and support. Your stories inspire me!

Deepest gratitude to Star Montgomery for working so diligently with me—it’s done!

I owe Sue Grimshaw at Loveswept a ton of chocolate or whatever else she likes to indulge in for allowing me to write in so many genres and for believing in my stories.

Thank you Jill Marsal (my brilliant agent) for always being a phone call away.

I’m forever grateful to the people who have mentored me and helped enrich my life—my street team: Violetta’s Valkyries, Jessica Jefferson, Scarlett Cole, Kathryn Le Veque, Nicole Laverdure, Marisa Dillon, Barbi Davis, Victoria Vane, Johnny Read, Daniel Skrzynski, JJ, and all the readers who take a chance on my stories.

And to my husband, Jeff—I love you so much it hurts.

Her Highland Rogue