Highlander's Heart (Clan Matheson Book 2) (7 page)

“Don’t. I adore your touch, need it to the depths of my soul and I’ve no doubt my need calls to yours, increases and inflames it. It hurts when you pull away.” With one finger under her chin, he lifted her gaze back to his then traced his thumbs over the dusting of freckles smattered across her tiny nose and cheeks. “Touch me, as freely as you wish. I’m yours, always and forever.”

“This bond is so all-consuming.”

“Aye, but in a very good way.” He pushed to his feet and lifted her to hers. She needed a moment to relax again, to not worry about their bond and the depth it raged. She enjoyed playing and so did he. He’d play with her some more. He swept her up into his arms then tossed her into the water with a resounding splash and dove in after her.

She emerged, spluttering and laughing just as he did, her long hair floating like a silken web of gold around her as she treaded water. “Your bear is far too playful for me right now.”

“Do you wish to head in?” He tipped his head toward the beach. “Or take me on once more? I know you can.”

“I would adore taking you on, but I’m afraid we should return afore a search party is dispatched. I’ve no wish for anyone else to discover this sacred place. It is ours alone.” She swam in and once her feet touched the ground, she slogged through the water to the sandy shore.

He set out after her, kicked into shore and joined her on the beach then wrung his shirt out as best as he could, although it’d dry quick enough since his temperature ran hotter than most. All shifters’ blood did.

Gripping the hem of her sopping shift, she eyed him. “I need to remove this undergarment. The wet cotton will chaff my skin if I wear it underneath my gown. Could you turn around?”

“I’d rather not.” Except he did, giving her the privacy she’d asked for. He shook the sand from his black pants and jammed them on, fastened his sword belt and tugged on his boots. Done, he waited, rested one hand on the warm surface of the damp rock wall. “Let me know when you’re dressed.”

“I still need a moment.” A wet plop, the swish of velvet falling in a whoosh then her soft step as she moved across the sand toward the fire pit. “Now I’m done.”

He turned around, his pulse racing at the way she smiled at him, her brown eyes dancing with mischief and her lush lips lifted with a sultry sensuality he longed to taste for himself. “It’s time to leave.”

“Aye, it is.” She knelt before the fire and even though it had died out some hours ago, she scooped sand and tossed it over the charred remains to ensure not even a spark remained alight. She rose, picked up the cane basket of cherries in one hand and tucked her wet shift inside it, her shawl again draped over her shoulders. “What are your plans for the day, Tor?”

“To speak to your father and then my brother. I need to inform them both that I’ve found my chosen one and that she is you. Following that, I intend to continue wooing you.”

“Do you have another hidden pool to show me?” Grinning mischievously, she wandered toward the tunnel’s entrance and sent the basket floating ahead of her down the darkened passageway. She bounded up onto the rock, her red skirts clinging to her pert bottom and her hips swaying so enticingly as she sashayed out of his sight.

His bear growled deep inside him, doubling his demand for her. Hell, keeping his hands off her until she’d ended her betrothal would be one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He lengthened his stride, caught up with her as she squeezed through the thinning gap at the end of the stone ledge and joined her outside, the crashing of the waterfall and life beyond their secret haven, resounding all around.

“This place is so enchanting.” She pressed herself against the mist-covered rock wall, the clear sheet of water arching over them and pounding into the pool nestled within the ravine far below. The morning sunshine beamed bright, flared through the cascading water and sent a colorful rainbow of beautiful yellows, pinks, reds and blues shimmering over her upturned face.

“You’re the enchanting one.” Her beauty was one of sweet, youthful innocence, her vibrant love for her clan making her glow all the more and drawing him in. Unable to help himself, he traced his knuckles gently down the softness of her cheek, her flawless skin warm to the touch. He dropped a kiss on the tip of her tiny nose, wanted to smother her face in a myriad of kisses. “You’ll need to set the basket down on the other side of the ledge, Layla.”

“Why?”

“So you don’t drop it when I kiss you proper.”

“There shall be no kissing.” She tapped his chest. “None whatsoever.”

“I keep telling myself not to touch you, to give you the time you’ve asked for, but I’m struggling to adhere to your request.” He gave her his most hopeful expression. “Please, surely one kiss wouldn’t hurt.”

“One kiss will likely lead to so much more, and you are a terrible tease for even asking.” Giggling, she floated the basket toward the grassy cliff side. “And I am no’ setting this basket down so you can kiss me, in case it appeared that way.”

“You are a very mean mate.” He followed her along the ledge where the view opened up then breathed deep as he took in the beauty of the land spread out before them. At the bottom of the hills, the House of Clan Matheson rose like a sentinel, the inner channel of Loch Alsh weaving inland like a ribbon of blue silk, while across the sea’s choppy ocean waves to the west, the northern tip of the Isle of Skye rose with a layer of white cloud swelling over it. Skye. Clan MacDonald’s land, and that of his mate’s betrothed. He edged past her on the ledge, bounded onto the grassy bank and arms extended, nodded. “Jump.”

She took a step back then bounded across.

He caught her, twirled her around onto his other side and safely away the sheer cliff edge.

“Oh my.” Laughing, she spun about, her damp blond locks streaming behind her and her rosy cheeks and smile so captivating. “Never have I felt so free as I do in this moment.”

In a way, neither had he, no matter he had Donnan MacDonald still to contend with. His woman had certainly cast a spell over him, fully and completely ensnaring him and he wanted it no other way. Her brown eyes, as rich in color as dark chocolate, sparkled with vigor and vitality and his desire to hold her close, roared through him with thundering need. He’d get no respite from that need, not for the rest of his life. The one woman he desired to spend the rest of his days with stood before him and all he wanted to do was fall to his knees then take her down with him and worship her body.

“Thank you for bringing me here, to this most precious place.” She closed the distance between them, pressed one hand against his chest, right over his heart as she reached up on her toes and kissed his chin.

“This will be our place, only yours and mine, always and forever.” He slid one hand over her hip and the other around to the small of her back. “By the way, you missed my mouth by an inch. Are you certain I cannae claim a kiss?”

“Positive.”

“My bear is feeling incredibly territorial right now.” He dipped his head, rubbed his cheek against her cheek and embedded more of his scent into her flesh.

“Can you control him?” She curved her body into his, her hips rubbing against his hips.

“Barely. He wants you to desire us, the same way that we desire you.” He nuzzled her neck, scraped his teeth along the sensitive hollow where her shoulder and neck met and she dug her fingers into his biceps and held on piercingly tight.

“I do desire both of you. Never think I dinnae.” Panting, she pulled back an inch, her chest heaving within the constraints of her low-cut bodice, her full breasts swelling forth. “You muddle my thoughts, make me lose my mind when you’re this close.”

“Muddling is good.” He wanted his mate, but for her to come to him freely. Slowly, he slid his hands down her sides, stepped back and picked up the basket. Time for them to leave this place before he no longer could. “You lead the way down the trail. I need to speak to your father and my brother, as soon as possible.”

“Father will be quite shocked to learn I’m now mated. He waited three years from my coming of age to ensure I wasnae.” She grasped her deep red skirts and glided down the winding forest trail, her long golden locks swaying at her waist, strands lifting and fluttering as they dried in the gentle breeze.

Down the forest pathway thick either side with low scrub, he followed his chosen one, as he’d follow her anywhere their lives led them. Small creatures rustled within the undergrowth while in the canopy high above, birds twittered within their nests. The air swirled and Layla’s wild cherry scent wafted over him, so fresh and sweet and beyond tempting. All he wanted to do was catch her up in his arms, tramp right back up that trail to their hidden pool and have his wicked way with her. She was his mate, the one woman he would lay his life down for, never wished to be without, never—

“’Tis so peaceful here. Dinnae you think so, Tor?” She skipped over thick tree roots twisting across the path, turned and bounced backward, her smile wide.

“Watch your step.”

“You need only watch your own—” She stumbled over a snaking root and gasped, toppled back and caught herself midair. Floating a few inches above the ground, her hair brushing the grassy trail, she seized the basket he’d dropped as he’d launched himself to catch her, the spill of cherries bobbing in the air as he gripped her around the waist. They floated just like that, him stretched out over top of her, every inch of their bodies touching.

Weightless, he arched a brow at her. “You were saying…”

“Step. You need only watch your own step and never mind mine. I’ve yet to topple over and not catch myself in time as I just did.” Gently, she touched a finger to his lower lip. “I do wonder what it would be like to kiss you. I want you to know that.”

“I want to do far more than kiss you right now. I want to devour you.”

“Our mated bond is growing swiftly.”

“Aye, the ties binding our souls together will continue to weave into one until not a single strand separates us.” He closed his eyes, opened them again, his very essence demanding he take the choice from her, kiss her and never let her go. Although the man his father had taught him to be, made him remain right where he was. “I want you, heart, body, and soul.”

“You have already stolen a piece of my heart, a piece I’ll never be able to claim back again.” She pushed her hands into his hair, buried her face in his neck then lifted them up with her skill and set them back down on their feet. She stepped back, swept the floating cherries into the basket and motioned for him to take it. “’Tis all yours again. Dinnae drop the basket again.”

“Thank you.”

With a soft sigh, she continued on down the path, her next softly whispered words floating to him. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve no need to be sorry.” He trekked after her and before too long, they emerged from the woods and the thick stone walls of the House of Clan Matheson rose like an impenetrable fortress. Guardsmen patrolled the battlements either side of the gatehouse, while the four-story north tower house beyond it overlooked it all. Clear skies reigned overhead with only a smattering of gauzy white cloud and the sun, a fiery burst of golden-yellow, spread its summer warmth across their land.

At the sea-gate, the glittering waters of the loch lapped gently into shore and near the stables, a gangly-legged lad in loosely belted breeches brushed a sleek black war horse while next to him, two armed warriors mounted their steeds then galloped past and disappeared down the main trail into the depths of the forest.

They walked underneath the gate’s arch and inside the keep. Across the inner bailey in the training area, a good fifty warriors wielded swords in a battle of strength against one another, Tavish and Kirk amongst them.

“Father.” Layla lifted a hand as Gregor strode toward them in a loose tan tunic over his belted plaid, his sword swinging at his side and his dark hair cut short, a streak of silver flaring back from his brow on one side.

“I was just about to ride out and search for you.” Gregor caught Layla up in his arms and hugged her, his love for his daughter shining through. “Have you been out all night?”

“Aye.” A flush bloomed on her cheeks. “Tor and I are mated, Father. We discovered the bond had taken when the full moon rose.”

“You’re mated to Tor?” Gregor shot him a wide-eyed look. “Is this true? Your chosen one is my daughter?”

“Layla is the one both me and my bear were directly led to, although of course we’ve hit a snag considering her betrothal.”

“Damn it.” Gregor groaned, slapped a hand against his forehead. “I waited three years after she came of age to make certain she wasnae soul bound to another as so many of our fae kind are. Donnan will be furious to hear this news. He glanced at his daughter, his gaze softening. “What is your intention?”

“I made a vow to Donnan, and I’ve no wish to forsake my duty to my clan, but so too I sense the strength of my bond forming with Tor and ’tis unmistakable.”

“Which means your duty to your clan is now twofold. We have a need to cement the ties between us and clan MacDonald, but there is also our clan’s need to ensure Gilleoin’s future shifter line does no’ fall into extinction. The ‘Son of the Bear’ cannae be allowed to falter.” Gregor gripped Layla’s shoulders. “Do you wish to accept the bond?”

“I dinnae know how to make things right with Donnan if I do.” She glanced at Tor over her shoulder. “I’ve asked my mate for some time so I might be able to, well, sort everything out in my mind.”