IntoEternity (13 page)

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Authors: Christina James

BOOK: IntoEternity
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“I need…oh God, I want… Kiss me, Alexander.”

Her seductive whisper turned to a low moan of pleasure as
she moved her hips against him. He didn’t waste any time giving her what she
asked for. In a slow caress, he moved his hand down over her mound and eased a
finger into damp curls and then deeper. His mouth covered hers, tasting her as
if he were a starved man and she was his only sustenance. He slowly manipulated
his finger to caress the swollen nub hidden in the hot, wet folds of her
womanhood.

Gusty nearly came off the bed at his touch. Her muscles
convulsed around his finger and her hips moved against his hand. She moaned
with pleasure as he inserted a second finger and moved it in and out,
rhythmically working her into a frenzy as he continued plundering her lips with
his.

“Alexander?” Gusty moaned as she moved her hips in time with
the thrusts of his fingers. “I’m… I am… These sensations…they frighten me.”

“Let yourself go, sweet. I will be here for you.”

His words had their desired affect and she came apart in his
arms.

After waiting only a moment for her to recover, Alexander
moved between her thighs, his cock engorged and throbbing as he brushed the
head against her dewy womanhood. She gasped and he bit back a groan of
pleasure. He was more than ready to take his new bride in every sense of the
word. His breath came fast and shallow and his heart beat with a rhythmic
staccato as he grasped her hips to keep her still while he eased into her tight
passage. Gusty moaned beneath his invasion and he knew she was tender from
their mating the night before. He hated to hurt her but he didn’t know if he
could stop…not even if she asked him to.

“Don’t stop. Oh God, Alexander, don’t leave me hanging.” She
gripped his buttocks and pulled him tight, taking the decision out of his
hands.

He pressed forward until his cock was fully seated deep within
her welcoming heat and her passage muscles convulsed around his hard shaft.

“Ah God. You feel so good.” He breathed against her neck as
he withdrew from her and then thrust, repeating the motion again and again.

He gripped her hips and lifted her higher, thrusting deeper
and harder. The woman in his arms moaned as she began to move with him, lifting
her hips to meet him. She dug her nails into his shoulders and screamed her
pleasure as she reached her climax a second time. The feel of her muscles clamping
down hard as they convulsed around his cock took him over the edge with her. He
pumped his hips hard, once, twice and with a roar he stiffened over her slack
body and found his release.

* * * * *

Hours later, in the middle of the night, Alexander awoke to
find a soft, warm body snuggled tight against his side. He raised his head to
glance around. The fire in the hearth had burned out and the room was cold. He
thought to get up and start a new blaze but a noise out in the hallway made him
hesitate.

What
the
hell?
Turning his head, he
listened.

“Well damn it to hell!”

Someone banged at his door. He cursed under his breath at
the interruption. His people would only interrupt him if it were a dire
emergency, especially tonight. Every man in his keep knew he was not to be
disturbed! He had given specific orders.

He let out another curse that brought Gusty awake. She sat
up and brushed the heavy fall of hair out of her eyes.

“What is it?” she muttered, obviously still more asleep than
awake.

“Someone is at the door,” Alexander snarled.

He muttered a series of curses and Gusty moved back against
the head of the bed, pulling the blankets up to her neck. The sight of her
shrinking away from him had him rolling over and pulling her back into his arm.
He proceeded to kiss her breathless before leaping from the bed. Without
bothering to cover himself, he strode angrily to the door.

“What is it?” Alexander demanded as he flung open the door.

Duncan stood in the hallway, looking up at Alexander with
wide, frightened eyes but the boy did not flinch.

“Cousin, there was a raid on a croft to the north last eve,”
he informed Alexander.

“Why hasn’t Davin come to tell me of this?”

“He bade me to come and get you while he assembled the men,
Cousin.”

“Good, tell him I will be right down.”

Alexander was not happy leaving his warm bed and willing
wife but this was a serious matter that needed his immediate attention. She
would have to understand that his duties to his people were of the utmost
importance.

He closed the door in Duncan’s face and cursed under his
breath as he snatched up his tunic and plaid from where he had laid them. He
dressed quickly then dragged on his boots and strapped on his dagger. Lastly he
picked up his claymore.

“I am sorry to have to leave like this, Gusty, but duty
calls. I will return as soon as I can. Stay in this chamber until I do.” When
he didn’t get an answer, he lifted his head and glanced at the bed. It appeared
to be vacant.

He approached the bed, seeing only a lump in the middle of
the mattress beneath the coverings. The only sign of Gusty was one delicately
arched foot sticking out the bottom of the covers. Taking hold of her ankle, he
gently hauled her from beneath the blankets until she was revealed to him in
all her naked glory.

He took a long look at what he was leaving behind then
pulled her up into his arms and covered her mouth with his in a deep,
passionate kiss that branded her as his. A kiss meant to remind her of the
pleasure they would share upon his return.

“We will continue this later, love,” he whispered hoarsely
against her mouth. After giving her one last embrace, holding her tight for a
moment, he finally drew back.

Gusty watched as he opened the door to leave. He stepped
aside to allow Melinda entrance before he disappeared. The maid went straight
to the hearth and stirred the coals before adding fresh kindling and several
logs.

“Violet sent me to keep you company, my lady. It will be
morning before the men return.”

“Thank you, Melinda. But I don’t want to keep you from your
bed. I will add another log later to keep it warm in here. That should do until
morning. Thank you.”

The maid hesitated.

“Come back at first light and bring me something from the
kitchen, please. I don’t want to go down to the hall until my husband returns,”
Gusty said. “Go now. Really. I’ll be fine.” She made her way to the chair
before the warm hearth and sat staring at the flames jumping and twisting
around the burning logs. Only now did she understand the weight of
responsibility that was laid on her new husband’s shoulders.

 

Chapter Twelve

 

Alexander rode through the cold, dark night as if the hounds
of hell were snapping at his heels. His hackles were up and his temper was
fierce. The villains who had set into motion the chain of events that brought
him out on a night like this had no concept of how much they would suffer when Alexander
got his hands on their bloody hides. They were assured of a swift death…if they
were lucky.

He had expected to make love to his new bride off and on
throughout the dark hours of the night and then again in the morning before he
rose to begin his daily chores. His temper steamed at having his personal
affairs—which he had been planning for days, for weeks, aye even for months—interrupted.
The thought of the sweet, warm body he had left behind in his bed had his
temperature rising another notch. He needed the cold night air to give him some
relief from the rampant, unquenched ardor heating his blood. Even now he was in
exquisite agony, as his semi-erect cock made riding astride his stallion a
little uncomfortable. Caesar seemed to sense his master’s mood and flew through
the night, the cool air streaming over his lathered flanks.

As they made their way over the hills and dales of this land
that was his to protect, Alexander cursed his fantastic fortune. He was a
reasonable man, a tolerant man. Hadn’t he always seen his people fed and
clothed to the best of his ability? His reputation as a fierce warrior had
always kept his enemies from his borders. But in the last few months his life
had been turned upside down and inside out, and as a result he had let down his
guard. Of late his mind had been on more personal matters.

That someone had the audacity to raid the properties of the
mighty Sutherland while he was in residence showed a great amount of stupidity.
To bring down the wrath of one such as he was asking for disaster. Alexander
had little tolerance when it came to someone threatening or harming his people.
By the end of this night, he vowed, these predators would feel the iron fist of
the leader of Clan Sutherland.

Somewhere behind him, Alexander could hear the thundering
hooves of his men’s mounts as they struggled to keep up. But he had no
intention of slowing his furious pace. He wanted to get this business over and
done with and get back to his new bride.

Ahead in the distance the orange glow of flames brightened
the night sky above the treetops. He urged Caesar to go faster, praying his
crofters had escaped the raid unharmed. He did not wish to go hunting but he
would if that was what it took to rid his land of the brigands who had done
this. As he reached the crest of the small knoll overlooking the farmstead he
surveyed the damage that had been done. He expelled a series of vicious curses,
his harsh breath billowing in the cold air. He stared down upon three large
stacks of hay that sat in the middle of the yard between the croft and the
outbuildings.

Alexander made his way down the incline, circling as close
to the infernos as he could. The heat put out by the blazes took the bite off
the bitter night air. Near the small croft, tied together back-to-back and
sitting on the cold, hard ground, were the elderly farmer, Stuart Guthrie and
his wife Aili, who worked this farmstead with their two sons. Alexander wasted
no time dismounting and going to them. With his dagger he cut through the
leather binding that bit into their fragile old flesh.

“Who did this, Guthrie? Did you notice their colors?”

Raiding clans usually wore muted colored plaids when they
went foraging so they would blend into the underbrush and wooded areas but
sometimes they were bold enough to exhibit their true colors. He cursed at the
look of fear and horror on Aili’s face. There were tears in her eyes as well as
Guthrie’s even though the old man sat straight and proud in his old age.

“It was too dark to see them clearly, Laird. They came out
of the dark, screaming like banshees, and my sons…Ian and wee Kenny. They tried
to fight them off. They tried to save the haystacks.”

He swallowed harshly as he stared across the yard toward the
side of the hut. Alexander followed the direction of Guthrie’s gaze and then
watched as the old man walked toward the two shadowy mounds of rags that lay
there. Alexander took in the scene before him and as realization dawned his
anger grew. Guthrie’s sons lay dead on the ground, murdered in the raid. The
old man dropped to his knees next to the bodies and with his head bowed and
shoulders heaving, he wept unabashedly. Aili Guthrie moved to her husband’s
side, wrapped her arms around his shaking shoulders and wept with him.

The sight of the two old people grieving over their only
sons caused a red haze of rage to veil Alexander’s eyes. He fisted his hands
and swore long and hard as he gazed at the destruction of property and loss of
life.
Such
a
waste…
Would that he could stop such acts of
brutality. This was not the first time something like this had happened. In the
last two years he had buried three members of his own family under similar
circumstances. Were the same men responsible for both raids?

As Alexander debated the possibility, Davin arrived, moments
ahead of the rest of his men. He pulled his mount to a halt as he dismounted in
one smooth motion then turned and waved the rest of the men on. The large,
fierce, heavily armed band of Highlanders spread out and moved into the
surrounding wooded area to look for any signs that might point to who had done
such a horrendous thing. After a few minutes torches twinkled between the trees
like distant stars as the men searched the area.

“Give me your thoughts on this, Alexander,” Davin entreated
as they met mid-yard. The flickering light from the torched haystacks danced ghoulishly
on his face.

“I don’t understand the purpose of this raid. This is a hay
farm, for God’s sake. These crofters have a few sheep and one cow. And none of
the livestock was stolen. It makes no sense. The raiders didn’t even set fire
to the buildings. They murdered the Guthrie brothers and left their parents to
watch and grieve.” Alexander motioned to the old couple comforting each other
in their bereavement. “Whoever did this meant to leave witnesses but to what
purpose?”

“Aye that is what I am asking myself. Do you think the Ross
was behind this? He thinks he has a score to settle with you over the death of
his sister. Would he take his vengeance out on peasants when it is their laird
he wants dead?”

Alexander shook his head. “I cannot believe even Donovan
Ross would choose such a cowardly way to extract revenge for Aileen’s death.
Nay, there is something more sinister going on here. The evil mastery behind
this action comes from a twisted mind. This raid is too similar to the ones
that took the lives of Aileen and then Allister and Seamus. I still do not
understand how my brother and cousin could have had been taken unaware. There
is treachery in this, mark my words. Whoever did this wanted me to suffer and
they are hurting my people as a means to that end. Nay, Davin, whoever did this
was not after booty. They wanted to get my attention. Why? That is what I would
like to know.” Alexander looked back at the old couple who knelt grieving over
the dead bodies of their sons, and frowned fiercely.

“I agree, Alexander. I don’t think this is what it appears
at first look. The fires and the murders were not the main purpose of this
raid. The bastards are after something more.” Davin looked around him as if he
could see into the darkness that surrounded the circle of light.

“Laird! We found their tracks!” One of his men shouted from
the shadows in the direction from which the Sutherland clan had just ridden in.

Alexander’s long strides brought him quickly to the spot his
man pointed out. By the light of the torches he studied the imprints on the
ground. They appeared to lead back toward the seacoast. But that direction
would only take the raiders deeper into Sutherland territory. He stood and took
several steps as his mind worked over the possibilities of such a thing. There
was only one other dwelling between this farm and the seashore…
The
Sutherland
keep!
Alexander’s heart tripped and his gut wrenched at the sudden,
unwelcome thought that entered his mind. Something was definitely not right
here and he feared he had been the target of a bloody ruse, one designed to
draw him and his best men miles from his stronghold…and from Gusty.

“Mount up, we ride for home!”

 

After Alexander had left, Gusty had found she could not
settle back down to sleep. She spent an hour or so pacing the floor of their
chamber, worrying about him until she realized what she was doing. It gave her
an eerie feeling to find that she was back to doing the thing she had done
before she ended up in the past. After her grandparents died she could not
sleep and ended up pacing the floor every night. Her brother had worried about
her and wanted her to go to therapy but she only went a few times before
deciding it wasn’t for her. She had intended to tell Michael… Now she could not
sleep for worrying about Alexander. Was her restlessness perhaps an omen of
things to come?

What a ridiculous thought! If she did not quit thinking like
her grandparents, she would end up looking for absurd meanings behind
everything that happened around her.

No. She was just wired from her earlier passionate encounter
with Alexander and her unsatisfied lust had brought on this restlessness. Gusty
lay down on the bed and closed her eyes in an effort to fall asleep. Sleeping
had to be better than sitting up all night worrying for nothing. After all,
Alexander had his men to protect him. She would do better to get some sleep so
she would be well rested when Alexander returned. He would probably be gone
most of the night, if not until morning. She would be ready for him even if he
did not return until after sunrise.

With her eyes closed tightly, Gusty lay under the heavy
covers, her bare flesh still tingling from her husband’s touch. In her mind she
went over every detail of the evening and tried not to squirm. She forced
herself to take deep, even breaths and before long she relaxed enough to doze
off.

Gusty opened her eyes and held her breath. Was that the
sound of the door opening? Something had definitely brought her fully awake. Darkness
still filled the room, making it difficult to see anything other than a large
shadow moving toward her. Alexander! She fought to lie perfectly still, wanting
to wait until he joined her in bed. Only then would she turn to him and they
could finish what they had started earlier. Her toes curled under the covers in
anticipation.

The dark form reached the bed, leaned over her and Gusty
braced herself for a kiss. But her smile died on her lips as a large, hairy paw
clamped over her mouth and nose. Unable to breathe, she tried to turn her head
as the intruder dragged her from the warm cocoon of bedding. She peered into
the darkness, hoping to get a glimpse of the man’s face, but couldn’t make out
any details. Her assailant moved behind her, manhandling her, suffocating her
with his large hand. Gusty fought back like a demon but short on oxygen, she quickly
lost her strength and hung limp in her attacker’s grasp. Her vision grew dim
and through the fog filling her mind, she thought she heard more than one
whispering voice. How many were there?
I
don’t
want
to
die…
I’ve
only
just
found
the
man
of
my
dreams
, she thought. And then blackness claimed her.

 

Duncan would be in deep shite if his cousin found out he had
been down in the glen visiting with the traveling gypsies. Time and again he
had been warned to stay away from them. Stories of small children being carried
off were common among his people. But the danger of the exploit drew Duncan to
sneak away after his cousin had ridden out to investigate the raid on the
nearby croft. And besides, Alexander had refused to even consider taking Duncan
along on the adventure.

Duncan had sneaked down to meet Francois, who had befriended
Duncan soon after the band of entertainers had arrived in the glen. Francois’
grandfather had forbidden the boy from encouraging the laird’s young cousin in
their friendship. Such associations simply were not done and the gypsies could
be thrown off the Sutherland holding if they angered the laird in any way. But
the two youngsters were having the time of their lives, flouting adult
authority.

Tonight Duncan had waited until he heard the hooves of his
clansmen’s mounts thundering across the drawbridge before he made his way out
of the bailey through a little-used gate at the back wall. He and Francois had
played for an hour, fighting with wooden swords in the moonlight until they
were exhausted. Only when Francois’ grandfather bellowed for the lad to get to
bed did the boys separate, and Duncan made his way reluctantly back to the keep.

As he moved through the shadows under the inner wall to
avoid the guard’s detection, he spotted a strange trio—a tall man and a shorter
one, helping their drunken companion across the inner yard. But the individual
was so soused he could not even take a step on his own. The other two were
literally dragging him between them and they staggered under his dead weight.
Duncan moved deeper into the shadows and crouched down as they made their way
past him.

Curiosity made him stay quiet in the black shadows. When the
trio stumbled and fell, nearly at his feet, Duncan thought for sure they would
discover him. But they were too preoccupied lifting their companion. As they
struggled with their burden, the hood of the intoxicated fellow’s cloak fell
back off his head and Duncan clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle a gasp. Lady
Gusty! These men were attempting to make off with the laird’s wife!

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