To Wed A Highlander (25 page)

She could feel his lips curve into a smile. “So you
were
awake. I thought you might be, especially when you all of a sudden started retiring much earlier than normal, but I didn’t want to say anything. I didn’t want it to end. It was the only thing holding me together.”

Gently his fingers curled into her red mane and pulled her head back. He leaned down and kissed her again. The sweet, sensual caress went on and on, suffusing her body with an aching need for more. She leaned into him moaning, stroking his tongue with her own.

Colin’s heart pounded so furiously against the walls of his chest, he felt light-headed. He kissed her again, softer this time, consuming, with so much tenderness it nearly choked her.

Makenna felt her body being raised out of the water and carried to shore. She laid her head on his shoulder, periodically kissing his neck and ear. He smelled good, like leather and male. Her breath fanned his cheek. “Everything I am is yours. I love you.”

Her words and kisses were like a healing balm to his soul. They also aroused a hunger for her that was all-consuming. He almost stepped wrong on the rocky pebbles. His concentration was strained; all he could think about was touching her.

His Makenna had returned. She was once again the spirited, spontaneous, and passionate woman that set his body ablaze. He knew he would not be able to wait until they returned to Lochlen to have her. He would barely be able to lay his plaid down.

Finally, they reached the grass. Colin put her down. “Don’t move,” he ordered. His voice was deep and affected, husky with desire.

Within seconds, he was back spreading his thick plaid on the soft clearing. Before she could take a step, he was at her side lifting her up into his arms. Makenna closed her eyes, luxuriating in Colin’s strength as he carried her to the soft awaiting blanket.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he muttered as he covered her mouth with his own. The sense of urgency that was driving his emotions tonight had created an aching hunger in him that only Makenna could assuage.

“Never,” she vowed softly as his lips took hers again in another slow, seductive, mind-numbing kiss.

Colin could barely control his need for her. He cupped her buttocks and pulled her up against his hardness, discovering she was already moist and hot with need. Makenna shivered at his touch and leaned into his smoldering heat. Her hands moved to his shoulders, stroking him. Her legs entwined with his.

Colin glided his fingers from her hip to her breast. As he took the freed soft mounds in his palms, his body began to shake. “God, you are so beautiful, so very, very beautiful. What you do to me,” he groaned with ragged need. He lowered his mouth to her breast and encompassed a pink bud.

He gently held the bloom between his lips and began to suck.

Makenna instinctively arched upward, thinking that she would die of pleasure. She twisted and moaned while her hands clung to his shoulders. Someone was shouting Colin’s name, and Makenna knew that it was her.

Overwhelming passion took over. It was like a dam had exploded, enabling an emotional connection between them that intensified every touch, every sensation, every emotion. Colin released the tasty nub and he kissed her soft, pink, bewitching lips until she clung to him again. His muscled leg was hard and hairy and enticing, sliding up along the delicate skin of her inner thigh.

Colin pulled her roughly against him, letting her feel all of him. He began to move his hips, rubbing his arousal against her. When Colin shifted to allow his hand access to her hot core, Makenna dug her nails into his backside to keep him firmly against her, refusing to let him move.

He lifted his head to look at her. Colin thought he was going to drown in the green depths of Makenna’s eyes. “Please let me touch you. I want to feel your need for me.”

Unable to form a coherent thought, Makenna released her hold. Part of her felt so excruciatingly sensitized that she didn’t think she could endure his deliciously erotic caress.

He slid one finger across the small, swelling button of desire hidden in the soft hair and heard her quick intake of breath.

Then he eased his finger into her snug passage, coaxing forth a honeyed flood that dampened his hand. She felt warm and liquid and sweet, like thick nectar. He didn’t ever want to stop touching her.

Colin eased his finger back out and explored Makenna with a deliberate possessiveness that made her tremble. He repeated the action slowly and deliberately, easing into her and then teasing the small nubbin of female flesh. He did it again. And again.

Makenna was growing wild beneath him, writhing in his powerful grasp, as he continued to touch her in ways he knew would drive her to climax. Her pleasure heightened his own.

She cried out softly as deep tremors shook her.

Colin’s blood pounded in his veins. His male appendage was hot and hard. He knew that he could wait no longer.

“Tell me you belong to me, that you need me, that you want me inside you. Now. Say it, Makenna,” he muttered, his voice strained and husky with passion.

“I need you. Please, Colin, love me now.” It was half plea, half demand.

He came down on top of her, burying his hands in her hair, twisting his fingers in the silken tresses, hugging her to him. His body was incredibly tight and hard with arousal. He kissed her again and tried to calm his own tumultuous need, then reached down and opened her to his first thrust.

Makenna closed around him, hot and wet and clinging.

Nothing had ever been this good.

His fingers crushed hers in a grip that spoke volumes about the fierce emotion coursing through him. Colin thought he was in both heaven and hell being tortured with pleasure and devilish fire. And then he started to move and could no longer think at all.

Makenna opened her thighs wider and wrapped her legs around him. Together they began to move in a primitive rhythm all of their own.

The climax hit him, and he surrendered to the hot whirlwind of spasms. Simultaneously he felt Makenna convulse beneath him, her entire body trembling with erotic release.

Nothing in his life had ever felt so right.

Long minutes passed before either was capable of moving. Knowing that he must be crushing her, Colin propped himself on his elbows and looked down for a second before moving to lie down beside her.

Makenna swallowed. She had seen a steady glow of love and happiness in his eyes and knew the same expression mirrored in her own gaze. Makenna nestled against her husband. She felt both lovely and loved. It was the most incredible feeling she had ever known.

Makenna could feel the cold wind begin to rise and nip at her exposed skin.

Colin felt her quiver. “God, Makenna, you’re freezing.”

She chuckled and snuggled closer. “Pretty understandable when you are forced to bathe in a cold loch in the middle of the night.”

Colin pulled the loose edges of the plaid around her. “Why didn’t you wake your lady’s maid and tell her you desired a bath?”

Makenna laughed and pushed against his chest to get free. She walked toward her clothes and started dressing. “Wake my lady’s maid? Colin, when have you seen me with a lady’s maid?”

Colin shrugged, and then stood, following her lead by pulling on his leine. “I never paid much attention. I thought you just used them when I was not around.”

She scoffed. “The reason you have never seen me with a lady’s maid is that there are none. There is but a single chambermaid, and I am careful not to overuse her lest she want to leave.”

“Then go to the village and hire some help. We have the funds,” he said, holding the reins to her horse.

Makenna shook her head and took the leather strips. “You say it so casually, as if that was all it took. I want help and then suddenly help will appear. The truth is that if I were to do something so foolish like you suggest, the staff I currently
do
have will disappear. We are incredibly shorthanded and the people who are now supporting Lochlen are overworked. I have learned the hard way that soliciting more help only gets you the kind you don’t want. Too many times, new blankets, tapestries, and rushes mysteriously ended up in one of the hearths. Food went missing, and candles destroyed. Only when I released ‘my new help’ did such activities ease. So, you see, forcing people to my aid causes resentment, and they take it out not only on me, but also on my staff. And when I do find someone
willing,
I immediately assign them to a position where their help is more needed by the clan, not just me.” She exhaled, realizing that she had just made quite a speech. Still, she couldn’t help but add,
“Now
do you understand?”

Makenna didn’t expect an answer, and she didn’t receive one. Yet she knew Colin had heard and comprehended every word she had said.

Colin helped her mount and then swung onto his large black. It was time. He would send Dunlop to the Highlands tomorrow.

Conor watched his son spy the wooden cup his twin sister was chewing. Casually, the toddler waddled over to his father and then slyly snatched it out of her hands. Brenna looked dainty and sweet, but she was nobody’s victim. Instead of yelling or crying, she squinted her eyes and pushed her twin brother, hard. He fell back but held on to his prize with a tight grip. Both met each other’s gaze and smiled triumphantly, each believing they had won.

“Brenna!” Laurel lightly admonished. “How many times have I told you not to push your brother? And, Braeden, you have to know it is your own fault. Why is it that you always think your sister has the better toy?”

Conor shifted his gaze to his wife sitting by the hearth. She was intently working on something for her friend Aileen, who recently discovered she was again with child. Pale ringlets curling around his daughter’s face proved she inherited his wife’s wavy gold hair. And though Brenna was barely a year old, he could see much more of his wife in their feisty daughter. She never backed down from a fight and usually won them. And of course, she had her father completely under her spell.

His son tickled him, and though he would never admit it to Laurel, he was proud Braeden had the instinct to know what he wanted and the fight to get it. But the small boy never went too far with his sister. Braeden intuitively knew that he was much bigger than Brenna and always sought nonphysical means to procure her toys. However, when it came to playing with his uncles, he loved to get rough. Conor’s son was only a year old, but he was a McTiernay through and through.

Conor stood and stretched his long legs. Spying Laurel out of the corner of his eye, he asked offhandedly, “They should go down for a nap soon, aye?”

Laurel put down her needle and cloth and stared at her husband. Dark and huge with twinkling silver eyes, he was the most handsome man she had ever met. He was also pigheaded, stubborn, and prideful, but he was all hers.

She looked back down and resumed her work, trying to hide her smile. “Yes, Brighid agreed to look after them while I try to finish this for Aileen,” she answered in her strongest English accent, knowing how it would rile him.

“If you keep speaking like that, woman, I might order only Gaelic to be spoken on my lands. There’s no way you can create that awful sound with Scottish words on your tongue,” Conor growled.

“Chan eil mi sgìth. Tha mi ag obair,”
Laurel repeated in Gaelic.

“Agus chan eil mi sgìth. Tha mi teth, shonuachar,”
Conor replied thickly, his voice husky and deep, emphasizing the desire he spoke of.

Laurel smiled. She loved being called his soul mate, and they both knew she was going to agree to his suggestion.

Conor wandered around her chair and stopped just behind her to enjoy the view. Just the thought of having Laurel alone made him ache for her. She had just moved the babes to real food and her delectable breasts were once again completely his. The day was beautiful, and with only a little more coaching, she would be convinced to leave with him for a few hours this afternoon.

The door of the great hall swung open and heavy footsteps entered. It was definitely not one of the servants.

Startled, Laurel looked up wondering who was coming to visit. Conor swiveled to glare openly at the intruder. Recognition set in as he watched his brother’s commander walk the length of the hall toward them. Conor knew instantly that there would be no midday tryst.

Conor turned back to Laurel and whispered,
“An-nochd,”
promising that his plans were not canceled, just postponed until later.

Dunlop approached the young family and realized he was interrupting their private time. “I am sorry, Laird McTiernay. Your commander, Finn, told me you were here and that I could enter. Good day, Lady McTiernay, it is nice to see you again.”

Laurel stood and greeted him with one of her more dazzling smiles. Dunlop was temporarily transfixed. He had forgotten how beautiful Lady McTiernay was. Slender with gold hair and sea-blue eyes, her physical appearance reminded him of Lady Deirdre.

Conor saw Dunlop’s transparent appreciation of his wife’s beauty. It was a common reaction, far from unusual when guests arrived, but he still didn’t like it. Laurel never flirted. She did something far worse. She was kind and welcoming. Two things Conor knew to be almost as powerful as any spell a woman could weave on a man, especially an unmarried soldier like Dunlop.

Laurel sensed Conor’s possessive bristle. “It is truly lovely to see you as well, Dunlop. We heard of Colin’s recent marriage. Tell me, is it a good one?”

“Aye, milady. A very good one. I believe you would approve of my laird’s choice. Her character is similar to yours.”

Laurel laughed, and it filled the room. “Then she must drive poor Colin in circles. I hope to meet her soon.”

“I am certain she feels the same.”

Conor coughed. Laurel stroked his arm, trying to ease the tension. “Unfortunately, Dunlop, I must leave and see these two little ones have their afternoon nap, but I hope to see you at dinner. Promise me you will tell all about Colin’s new bride and how she has turned our staid Colin into a man of adventure.”

Dunlop’s brows flew up in surprise. He wouldn’t describe Colin as an adventurous man, but there was no doubt that Makenna had definitely changed him. “Aye, milady. I look forward to this evening.”

Laurel smiled and then reached up and grabbed Conor by the neck to get his attention. He had been preoccupied with glaring at their visitor and had not noticed she was preparing to leave. Yielding to her pressure, he turned his head and captured her lips in a brief but searing good-bye kiss, reminding everyone whom Laurel belonged to.

Just as he released her, Laurel whispered into his ear, “Do you think Dunlop hopes you might share me, or should you kiss me again? I vote for the latter,
a ghrà mo chroì.”

Her light tease and reminder that he had her love and her heart brought him somewhat out of his dark mood. He swatted her lightly as she broke away, taking the twins out of the room.

Conor motioned for a servant to bring some drink and then leave. He waited for Dunlop to reveal his purpose and explain why he was traveling alone.

Dunlop took the quaich offered and drained its contents. “I am sorry for interrupting your family time, but I assure you it is not without cause. Your brother sends you a message.”

Laurel plopped down in front of her best friend’s hearth and crossed her arms watching Brenna and Braeden play with Aileen’s two-year-old son on the bed across the room. Dark-haired, Gideon looked nothing like his mother, who though not a petite woman, had small feminine features and light coloring. The cottage was comfortable, warm, and inviting…and Laurel’s typical destination whenever she needed advice or just someone to hear her frustrations.

Brenna, a daredevil and performer, stood up on the soft, wobbly surface. Aileen congratulated the small girl on her feat, and Brenna’s two misty gray eyes beamed with pride.

Braeden, seeing all the attention being lavished upon his sister, then tried to stand. Pleased with his success, he clapped his hands together in one swooping movement and immediately fell over. Seeing Brenna still standing, he reached over and pulled her down beside him. Just as she was about to get mad and retaliate, Gideon, seven months older, began to jump up and down on the spongy mattress, completely mesmerizing the twins.

Aileen handed Laurel a cup of mead and moved to join her friend in the adjacent chair. “I would tell Gideon to stop, but I am afraid without his entertainment, Brenna will remember her brother’s behavior. It is amazing at the young age men begin to protect their pride.”

Laurel drank the sweet beverage, enjoying the strong honey flavor. “It is not just boys. Brenna will have to learn to manage her own pride as she grows, lest it get her into trouble.”

“It has been a while now since you have visited with that look upon your face. Has our good laird been foolish enough to quarrel with you again?”

Laurel let a long sigh escape. “Not yet, but a row is brewing in the air, Aileen. It has been some time since I have crossed words with Conor, but I fear we will battle tonight.”

Aileen almost choked on her drink. “Some time? Wasn’t it just last week that you two argued about having too many visitors? Or was it you giving Fiona a week off without asking him?”

Laurel waved her hand. “Those disagreements occurred two weeks ago. Last week, Conor tried to postpone my monthly trip north to Hagatha’s
again,
and you made your point. Conor and I butt heads…often. We always have and in truth, I think we like it.”

“You like making up,” Aileen chided her playfully.

“’Tis part of the fighting,” Laurel replied, joining in Aileen’s laughter.

Laurel took another drink and then sighed. “Tonight, I fear, will not end like the others. You should have been there at dinner. Never have I been so embarrassed in front of a guest. Conor behaved atrociously, and Dunlop was not blameless. All throughout the meal, the commander found ways to poke and incite Conor’s anger. Both of them were unbelievable.”

“Was it really that bad?” Aileen asked, trying not to be too skeptical.

Laurel curled her feet underneath her and faced her friend. “From the very beginning, it was clear the two men had crossed words since I left them earlier that afternoon. At first, I tried to learn what was wrong and see if I could defuse the hostilities. What I tell you now is an accurate accounting, Aileen. I do not exaggerate.”

Laurel began to disclose the night’s events, reliving them as she spoke.

“You’re not eating, Dunlop. Does the food not please you?” Laurel asked, hoping he would divulge the reason behind his cold mood rather than insult her.

“Your cook is excellent, milady,” Dunlop responded without inflection. He took a bite and then openly glowered at Conor.

Laurel gulped. Very few men ever had the nerve to look annoyed at her husband, let alone palpably angry. “Then perhaps it is the company that causes you to frown so?” Laurel asked, undaunted.

Dunlop’s normally cheerful face tightened further. “Perhaps you are correct, milady.”

Laurel ate a bite of potato and watched her husband out of the corner of her eye as she chewed. He was tense, quiet, and dangerously reserved. The air was almost tangible with male aggression. Whatever had transpired between them had taken several hours and had not ended well.

“Then let us talk of your new mistress,” Laurel offered, attempting to move the conversation to a more receptive topic. “I understand Lochlen Castle to be something of a fortress and the lands quite beautiful.”

“Aye, it is. I am confident Lady Makenna would enjoy showing it to you,” Dunlop remarked.

Before Laurel could reply, Conor slammed his quaich on the table. Its contents sloshed over the sides of the lip and onto the plate of food. He leveled a stare at Dunlop, who returned it unflinching.

Laurel bit her lip to keep from asking why Conor was acting so rude. She agreed long ago to refrain from disrespecting him in public, but that did not mean she would remain passively quiet once they were alone.

Laurel finished her mead and put the empty cup on the small table nearby. “I quickly tried to change the conversation to any number of subjects. Edward I’s death, Robert the Bruce’s recent success at Urquhart and Balvenie. Nothing. No one would engage. I finally could stand no more of my lone voice bouncing off the walls and left. I could actually feel them hurrying me out of the room so they could resume their argument. It was then I decided to visit you. The only thing going my way this evening is Finn’s absence.”

Aileen widened her eyes and then exhaled. “You may not think so later. I believe my husband is right now with Conor, no doubt supporting our laird in whatever discussion was taking place when you left.”

“It was no discussion, Aileen. It was a silent battle of wills. There is only one reason Dunlop would visit Conor without Colin by his side. Colin wants his brother’s help and could not personally leave to request it.”

“And you are guessing that Conor said no.”

“What else explains Dunlop’s disrespectful and belligerent behavior?”

“If what you think is true, then I must admit that I, too, am stunned, Laurel. The laird must have a strong reason not to come to his brother’s aid when asked. It makes no sense.”

“It does if you factor
me
into the reason that Conor said no.”

Aileen let go a low whistle. “It’s possible.”

“Possible and true,” Laurel said definitively. “Conor would never deny help to any of his brothers.”

“Unless it involved you or the children,” Aileen said, finishing Laurel’s thought. It was common knowledge how the laird felt about his wife. When he almost lost her the previous year to a jealous and deceitful man, he became a man possessed. Even with the threat gone, Laird McTiernay was very conscious of keeping his wife safe.

“I have no doubt that Conor’s reasons have something to do with me. My husband has not left my side for more than two weeks at a time since last year. He’s afraid I will disappear while he is gone or do something worse such as visit a friend and leave the protection of this place,” Laurel grumbled, twirling her hand around before laying it back down on the armchair.

Aileen watched Laurel unconsciously drum her fingers on the wood. A clear sign Laurel was strategizing and preparing for a confrontation. “And just what is your devious mind planning now?”

Laurel smiled as an idea came to her. “Goodness, Aileen, I, devious? I would never use underhanded tricks to get my way. Not my style.”

Aileen shrugged her right shoulder as she leaned over to place her empty cup beside Laurel’s. “I stand corrected. You are more like a…aye, that’s it, like an immovable boulder when you are in the frame of mind.”

Laurel arched her eyebrows briefly in protestation. “Not flattering, but quite an apt description. But with Conor as a husband, I must be or I would find myself doing only his bidding. First, I’ll confirm my suspicions.”

“And if they are right?”