CursedLaird (22 page)

“How so?” She liked hearing him talk about his family.

“Ever the practical jokesters,” he stated point-blank. “I
remember a time when we were on a hunt. While Dour kept Ian’s attention,
Donnell switched his prize arrows with sticks. Mind ye, Ian’s a bit particular
about his arrows. He hones them each to perfection. The moment a deer crossed
Ian’s path, he loaded his bow, only to miss.”

He started to laugh uncontrollably for a few moments, which
infectiously made her laugh as well. He wiped his eyes as he gathered his
composure. “Speed o’ the angels beneath their feet saved them from Ian’s wrath.
It took mi and Gavin hours to calm him enough not to kill those two.”

“It sounds like a fun family,” Caledonia said.

“It was.” Struan’s tone sobered yet hinted of anger. “Until
it was stolen from mi, from us.”

Caledonia thought carefully for a moment before she spoke.
Pain rippled thickly off him. “I have no words to give back what was lost. But
I can take you home and hopefully with the members who are there, you can
rebuild and move forward. Start a new life. This may not be what you imagined
your life to be, but think of it as a new challenge.”

She paused, licked her lips, then added, “I promise to help
in any way I can to find your missing family members.”

He pulled her into his lap and held her close. She heard his
deep inhalation and felt him nuzzle his face into her hair as he claimed, “I
believe ye, Caledonia. There is a reason ye have been sent to watch over mi and
I am thankful to the heavens for ye.”

Leaning into him, she relaxed. His words washed over her,
cutting a path directly to her core. How had this man managed in so few hours
to burrow his way to the center of her heart and commandeer her undivided
attention?

Great sex, fancy words and kisses that scorched her
brainwaves, that’s how. She sighed contentedly.

Chapter Twelve

It was after midnight before they finally left Loch Tay for
Castle MacKinnon. When Percy and Abel returned home for a change of clothes,
they found their older-model Land Rover had been repaired by their mechanic
friend and left at their house. It provided more room for the ride than their
mother’s compact car and more comfort than the van.

The Kavanaghs stayed behind. Aileen packed a basket of food
and drinks for the trip. Percy drove. Abel sat in the front passenger seat as
navigator. It took some convincing to get Struan back into another vehicle. He
was certain they were some sort of magical beast and wanted nothing to do with
them.

It took Fin lifting the hood and giving him a quick lesson
on how it worked to gain Struan’s trust in the
magical beast
, as he
called it. Thinking of how patient her father had been with Struan kept a thin
smile on her face. Struan was an apt student and if anyone had worthy knowledge
to share, it was her father. He’d kept that old van of theirs working for long
past its natural years. To her, Fin Kavanagh was one of the smartest, most
honorable, loving men she knew.

Her brows pursed. Maybe that’s why things didn’t work with
Kip. He just didn’t measure up to her father. But Struan. He was a man built
from an entirely different mold. One that resembled her father’s in so many
ways—he’d shown honor, pride and love of family. She swallowed the sigh that
threatened to escape as she watched Struan, who stared out the window into the
darkness.

Since they’d left the house, he’d sat quiet and non-moving
to the point he almost resembled his statue state. Did he still fear the
magical beast? Caledonia reached for his hand, which seemed glued to the seat
as if he held on to it for life. When he looked her way, she did the best she
could to relieve his anxiety.

“I understand,” she said in as light a tone as she could
muster. She wanted to ease his distress and make him smile. “I don’t like
riding with Percy driving either.”

“Hey,” Percy snapped. “If you like, I can pull over and let
Abel take the wheel.”

“Oh no,” Caledonia retorted kiddingly. “That would be even
worse. Bad enough, he’s the one reading the map.”

“You know, Percy,” Abel replied. “We could just toss her out
right here and make this a men-only trip.” He turned to Struan. “When you lived
in Lochsbury, were the women good-looking?”

“Aye, the women o’ Lochsbury each held a beauty o’ their
own.” From the look on his face, she could tell he was processing their
conversation before he continued. “I do not understand this driving, but it
seems to me that Percy is in fine command o’ this magical beast.”

Percy grunted in agreement. Abel laughed and Caledonia
smiled.

“I was just kidding to get your attention. Percy is a fine
driver. You sat there quiet for the past hour and seemed so tense. I thought it
might be the ride.”

“Nay.” Struan shook his head. His thumb absently caressed
hers. “I was thinking o’ mi
brathairs
, mi family and time lost.”

He turned away and stared out the window again. Silence
returned but this time, her hand remained in his. The slow methodical rhythm of
his thumb drawing circles on the back of her hand kept her system cued into
him. His breathing. His heartbeat. The heat from his hulking size filling the
backseat. Suddenly, it seemed as if it were only her and him alone in the
vehicle.

Caledonia closed the gap between them. The connection of their
hands remained unbroken. She shifted her little finger and matched his strokes
in his palm. For each circle he placed on the back of her hand, she imitated it
in his palm. No other touch needed to be made for her blood to warm. She rested
her head against the backseat and closed her eyes. Images of what she wished
they could be doing danced inside her head.

Naked. Flesh upon flesh. His mouth teasing her nipples, and
though it wasn’t actually happening, they pearled inside her bra anyway. She
wished the vision were real. Caledonia swallowed hard against the solid lump in
her throat. Her breath hitched when he lifted her hand and the warm moisture of
his kiss seared her skin. Need hummed within her pussy, causing her to shift in
her seat.

Struan released her hand, laid his arm across her shoulder
and tugged her snug against him. He tilted her chin with his fingers and his
lips found hers. For a split second she panicked, remembering Percy and Abel
sat in front. His kiss ended as quickly as it started as he shifted to her ear.
The heat of his words tickled and sent a ripple of desire across her flesh in
the form of tiny chill bumps.

“If’n we were alone.” He directed her hand to his lap,
letting the solid rod beneath his kilt finish his thought for him. She didn’t
need him to speak for her to understand. He wanted her as badly as she wanted
him.

Caledonia glanced at the two in the front then back to
Struan. Leaning close to his ear, she whispered, “I wish that too.”

Palm open, she smoothed his kilt, making sure to linger on
one particular hard wrinkle the most. Though she watched Abel and Percy, she
caressed Struan’s cock. She rested her head on his shoulder while continuing to
gently glide her hand along the center of his lap. After several minutes, he
captured her wrist. His graveled whisper made her smile.

“Mi
fiadh-chat
, ye have the touch o’ an angel.” He
lifted her hand, delicately kissed each fingertip then kissed her palm. “I
prefer to enjoy mi pleasure inside o’ ye and not in mi kilt.”

Even though it was dark in the backseat, she couldn’t miss
the passionate look in his eyes. A promise lay within their depths she wanted
desperately to claim in the near future. Her insides growled with a hunger only
he could satisfy. If Percy and Abel weren’t in the vehicle, she’d straddle his
lap and ride this Scottish god into oblivion. That’s how hot he’d made her with
nothing more than a few strategically placed sensual kisses and seductive
wording. Damn. She breathed deep, taking in as much of his masculine scent as her
olfactory senses could muster.

Her mouth watered as he lowered to her lips. Anticipation
knotted in her chest. She wanted his taste, his touch and the sensation of his
flesh upon hers. Caledonia’s heart pounded and her breathing stopped for a
split second at their initial contact. Percy cleared his throat and Caledonia
jumped, breaking them apart. She met Percy’s amused stare in the rearview
mirror and she shot him an I-can’t-believe-you-did-that glare. A quick cut of
her eyes sideways and she noted Abel concentrated on the map. She knew from his
posture he caught them kissing as well.

“If we got the directions right,” Percy stated as his gaze
left the rearview, “Castle MacKinnon should be coming into view around this
next bend.”

She felt Struan stiffen. He craned his neck as if trying to
see around the curve in the road. Caledonia followed his direction. As if in
slow motion, a lighted castle came into sight. It appeared miniature in size,
situated among the rolling hills and trees of the countryside. As they
traversed the road, its tremendous size became more obvious. Five tall towers
stood proud as the castle’s sturdy protectors. One on each corner with the
tallest stationed in the middle.

Percy made the turn onto the long lane that led to the
castle. Struan sat on the edge of his seat. Anticipation and excitement wafted
off him in waves, which made her smile. He reminded her of a child on Christmas
morning the moment they saw the presents from Santa. At the end of the lane,
Percy entered the large, circular drive and pulled to a halt in front of the
stairway that led to the main double doors.

Struan fumbled with the door handle so Caledonia reached
across him and assisted with opening it. He slid out, stood frozen for a moment
then as if it were a common action, he held his hand for her to take. He helped
her to her feet then smiled down at her.

“Thank ye for bringing mi home, Caledonia.”

Before she had a chance to respond, he sprinted for the
stairs, dragging her along with him. She worked double time to keep up. Where
he took them two at a time, she ran full pace from step to step and somehow
managed not to stumble or trip. Caledonia nearly slammed into him when he came
to a dead stop at the top of the regal stone staircase. The bright light over
the doorway illuminated a pair of mahogany doors. She gasped for air to
compensate for her exertion as she admired the hand-carved set.

A phenomenally detailed scene of a large man with a sword
drawn in battle stance filled the main section of each. She didn’t get the
chance to enjoy the artwork before he forcefully shoved one of the doors open.
It amazed her that it wasn’t locked. Either there was no crime in the area or
they were the most trusting individuals on earth to leave the front door
unlocked.

Something whispered in the air around him.
Welcome home.

Letting go of her hand, Struan stepped inside. His heart
raced. His senses filled with the essence of home. Familiar scents rushed his
being and wrapped his soul in a warm glow. Home. Home. Eyes closed, he soaked
it all in, letting the comforts of this place wash over him and rid his every
fiber of unwarranted distress. Home. Home. He breathed deep.

He took a step and tripped over a strange bag in the
hallway. It took several steps to right his balance and keep from falling, but
not before he knocked a flower-filled vase from a small table beside the door.
It shattered, scattering flowers and water everywhere. The crash echoed loudly,
rolling from the entranceway and down the long main hallway.

But he didn’t care. Struan caught sight of something he
desperately needed to see. He hurried to a huge tapestry, which hung midway
down the hall. He didn’t hear the footsteps coming from the room off the
hallway behind him. Every ounce of him was tuned in to the family portrait on
the wall. Trembling fingers reached to trace his family members but were halted
by a hand that came down hard and strong on his shoulder.

Fighting skills engaged. Before he thought better of it, he
grabbed the wrist, jammed an elbow into his attacker’s ribs then twisted and
flipped the man over his shoulder. The oversized hulk of a man landed on his
back at Struan’s feet with a solid thud. In a flash, Struan had his
sgian
dubh
in hand and at the man’s throat before he realized his mistake. A deep
voice he thought he’d never hear again rumbled from the doorway of the room
behind him.

“Struan, is that any way to greet Ian after all these
years?” Gavin’s brogue lightened his soul as a laugh rumbled from his oldest
brathair
.

Instantly, he released his hold on Ian as his
brathair
brushed his long hair out of his face. “Ian,” Struan gasped as he tugged him to
his feet and clasped him in a bear hug. “Forgive mi. It has been a long journey
home and I—”

Ian cut him off. “No need to explain, Struan. I understand.
I followed that road as well.”

Gavin grabbed Struan into a hug the moment he released Ian.
“Ye are a fine sight for these ole eyes, mi
brathair
.”

“As are ye.” Struan’s voice cracked as he choked back the
tears. Grown men did not cry. For several long seconds, he feared releasing
Gavin would cause him to wake and realize he wasn’t home, that it was only a
dream.

“It is okay to release mi now, Struan. Ye are home to stay.”
Gavin’s deep timbre gave him the strength to stand straight and let go from the
hug. When Gavin nodded toward the front door, Struan remembered he hadn’t
arrived alone. “Who are the guests that ye brought home with ye?”

Struan turned to find Caledonia stood in the front doorway
with Percy and Abel. He strolled over to her and gathered her hand. “Welcome to
mi home, Caledonia. I want ye to meet mi
brathairs
.” He didn’t look
anywhere but her beautiful eyes as he added, “Percy and Abel, I owe much to ye
both for mi safe return.”