Desiring the Highlander (33 page)

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Authors: Michele Sinclair

BOOK: Desiring the Highlander
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Cole returned her grin and pulled her to him, gathering her closer to his chest. “I’ll never get enough of you, do you know that?”

“Aye,” Ellenor whispered, lacing her fingers in his thick hair, pulling his lips to hers.

His mouth came down and she kissed him with a kind of wild abandon that came from torturous weeks of waiting. She could feel the heat from his large hands splayed over her back, holding her close. Thinking about the last time they had held her, touched her, memorized her, caused her pulse to race. It was followed by hot little ripples of pleasure as she discovered the hard bulge under his plaid. She instinctively and sensuously moved against it.

God, she wanted him and knew she always would.

She made a small hungry sound deep in her throat and pressed as close to him as she could get.

Cole broke the kiss and held her tight, stopping her body from rubbing against him. Any more sensation and their first coupling as husband and wife would be standing up, her pinned against the stone wall just a few feet away.

He raised his eyes to look down at her. The passion reflecting back at him caused his own throat to tighten.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered.

Ellenor smiled playfully. “I know. It’s a shame really that your looks don’t compare. I think it’s the dimples,” she teased and reached up to stroke his right cheek.

“Liar.” Cole laughed, grabbing her hand. “You’ve liked them since we first met. You kept staring at them. Face it. You’re jealous.”

“Jealous? Why should I be jealous if I am already beautiful?”

Cole kissed the tip of her nose. “Don’t know, love. You have no reason to be. I just know that you are.”

Ellenor narrowed her eyes at him, but they lacked the fire needed to portray true anger. She took the end of her plaid and swatted him. Cole laughed and began to loosen his belt. Ellenor moved toward the chest housing her garments, kicked off her slippers, and pulled on the strings binding her gown. She heard a hard thud and glanced behind her to see what it was. It had been Cole’s heavy leather belt. His plaid was right beside it. Cole was riveted, sitting on the side of the bed, watching her undress. She quickly returned to the task, suddenly feeling apprehensive. She slipped the bliaut over her head. The thick velvet material caught the chemise underneath and the thin gown rose up her leg almost to her buttocks. A nervous giggle escaped. She waited for Cole to say something. When he didn’t, Ellenor assumed he was waiting for her. She forced herself to turn around, hoping that he would take her into his arms and dispose of the chemise himself. Instantly, she knew that was not going to happen.

Cole had fallen back onto the bed and was fast asleep. His knees were bent and his feet were still against the floor, unmoved from where he had been sitting. Only sheer will had enabled him to stay awake these past several hours. But there was only so much will a body could produce, and even the promise of a wedding night could not overrule basic needs.

Ellenor went over and picked up his legs. Her goal had been to carefully move them on top of the bed, but immediately she realized two things. First, his legs were incredibly heavy, making the effort to move them hard, cumbersome, and far from gentle. And second, it didn’t matter. The man was out cold. She could probably scream and he would remain comatose. Ellenor doubted anything short of several hours’ sleep would change Cole’s deep state of unconsciousness.

She finally maneuvered his body so that it was completely on the mattress, but he was lying at an angle preventing anyone else from sleeping comfortably. Ellenor tried unsuccessfully to move him, but succeeded only in getting him to twitch. Shrugging, she curled up against his side, cast a leg over his large frame to keep her atop the bed, and then finally managed to pull the plaid over them both.

She placed her chin on his shoulder and said, “Some might not believe this, but I promise you, Cole McTiernay, I could not have asked for a better wedding night. You kept your promise and I vow to keep mine. I will always love you, Highlander.” Then she planted a kiss on his cheek and nestled next to him, falling into the most peaceful sleep she had had in weeks.

 

Cole awoke and rubbed his face. It wasn’t often he slept hard, but when he did, it always left him unsettled upon awakening. And this time he must have fallen into a deep slumber for he wasn’t quite sure where he was. It almost felt far too comfortable to be real…and far too real to be a dream. He turned and his chin encountered a head, which quickly mumbled something derogatory. Instantly, the haziness of sleep vanished and clarity of where he was and whom he was with came into full understanding.

He had returned just before dawn and married Ellenor. In the morning, he and she retired to celebrate…and that was the last of his recollection. Cole raked his scalp, hoping for more, but none came. The movement must have disturbed Ellenor, for she flipped over to her side and cuddled up against him, her head on his shoulder and her leg flopped over his. Her shift had gathered around her hip and he could feel the soft skin of her leg against his own.

Her shift!

Cole’s fingers curled into a fist and he clubbed himself in the forehead. He hadn’t even touched her. “Late to your own wedding. What kind of man…what kind of
husband
…falls asleep on his wedding night?” he chided himself under his breath.

“The best kind.” The reply was half sigh, half hum, followed by soft, sensual kisses on his chest along the stretched opening of his leine.

“I…I didn’t mean to wake you.” Cole knew he sounded just as clumsy as he felt. Distant, uneasy, these were things he had felt multiple times in the presence of a woman, but never embarrassed or awkward and suddenly he was both.

Ellenor pushed back the edge of his leine, giving her access to his shoulder and neck. “I’m glad you did, husband,” she mumbled between kisses.

Cole closed his eyes and grimaced. “I’m not really that yet, am I?”

Ellenor paused her attentions and propped herself up, so that she could look down at him. The light in the room was faint. The moonlight, which typically poured into the bedchamber via the window, was obscured with clouds, leaving only near-dead embers to illuminate Cole’s face. “Oh yes you are. We may have enjoyed our wedding night before we were actually married, but we had one, and you cannot get out of this marriage now, Highlander.”

Cole narrowed his eyes mischievously and flipped Ellenor over on her back. He lowered himself slowly on top of her, bracing his arms on either side of her head. Her soft curves molded perfectly to the contours of his muscular body and Cole growled his pleasure. “Ah, Scot, that’s the last thing I would be wanting to do,” he purred and then began nibbling at her neck.

Ellenor closed her eyes to the sensation, wanting to scold him for calling her Scot, a name he himself had challenged. Before his mouth could capture hers in a full kiss she knew would leave her breathless and unable to think, let alone speak, she whispered, “Call me Scot again, and I’ll start calling you Elmer.” She then lifted her head, hoping to catch him full on the mouth, but Cole had arched just out of reach.

“I was going to start calling you
sonuachar
but I don’t know now. I’m not sure I want a soul mate who enjoys correcting me as much as you do.”

Ellenor squirmed, trying to get out of his grasp, but he kept her firmly underneath him. She knew her attempts were only causing him to become more aroused. “I’d better be someone you’re happily married to. I waited hours—no weeks—for you.
You’d
better be worth it,” she ended, pointing a finger into his chest.

Cole grinned. He loved her spirit and her inability to yield, even when she was outsized, outmuscled, and even outmaneuvered. He needed her like he needed the air, and right now, he needed to make Ellenor his wife in every way. “I don’t know if I am worth it, love, but I promise you I will do everything I can to make you think so.”

Before Ellenor could say another word, Cole kissed her.

Edging his knee more deeply upward, he lodged it between her thighs and planted another kiss while he removed the last of their clothing. The moment they were both free, Ellenor pressed eagerly against him and her hands roamed freely over his chest, back, and then lower. He lost the power to think. Ellenor’s natural, unrestrained response to their lovemaking challenged his sanity. Every muscle in her body was tight with sexual tension, demanding he pull her close and drive himself into her. Cole refused to do that, but he knew his need for her was too great to wait much longer.

“Cole.” Her voice was a velvet murmur. “Later. Be slow and gentle later.”

The fire inside him suddenly raged out of control, searing away any remaining desire to hold back and take his time. Nothing mattered except being as close to her as he could be. A moment later, they were one.

Nothing had ever been so good.

 

Cole blinked and stared at the wooden beams that served as the support for the fourth floor of the North Tower. He had never felt so incredible, so loved, so
good
. And the best part was knowing that tomorrow it was not going to end. This time when he left, Ellenor would be at his side. She was now his in every way. And he was hers.

She had opened walls inside him he had thought were forever shut, and in doing so he had become vulnerable again.

Robert had been his friend. His best friend. They had shared many of the same dreams, believed in the same ideals, and aspired for similar glory. They had understood each other in ways few friends ever did. And when Robert died, a piece of Cole had died with him and what hadn’t perished had gone numb. Until Ellenor. She had done the impossible. She had reawakened his heart and, in doing so, had become his soul.

He had fallen in love with Ellenor just after they met. And after all these weeks, he was still falling. Every moment together she consumed him a little bit more. And now, Cole knew living without her would not be hard, it would be impossible. The depth of his love and need for her no longer terrified him. In its place, he could find only peace. He finally had what he always wanted but never thought he would possess.

Ellenor stirred beside him, but she didn’t awaken. They had made love all night, catching an hour or two of sleep in between bouts of insatiable need. It seemed impossible, and yet, each time one or the other had shifted, they had instinctively reached out for the other. That was all it took. One caress, a simple kiss, even a hushed murmur, and both would find themselves willing captives in a whirlpool of desire.

Even now, his body was responding to her soft backside pressing into his hip, inviting him to touch and explore. Any moment he would lose the ability to keep from ravishing her body once again.

A beam of light suddenly flashed across the ceiling, indicating that the sun was on its descent. Cole frowned. It couldn’t be that late…could it?

Cautiously, he rose, taking care not to rouse her, and plodded to the window. He leaned forward and looked down at the activity below. The yard was busy with typical late afternoon activity, but few soldiers were in sight. Today’s training must have taken place in the fields. Soon, however, the men would arrive and begin massing for dinner in the Lower Hall.

Cole’s stomach growled and he realized that it had been a long time since he had eaten. Over thirty hours and he was starving.

He glanced back at Ellenor, who had slowly invaded the vacated space on the bed, but she was still unconscious. If he left now, he might be able to get back with some food before she awoke.

Cole walked over and grabbed his clothes. He threw on the leine and then exited into the corridor. He softly shut the thick wooden door behind him and quickly pleated and belted his plaid. He listened for traffic on the stairwell, and hearing none, he quickly descended the tower.

The best place for food and drink was the kitchens. It was also the best place to find some of the most inquisitive personalities in the McTiernay clan. The head cook was a crotchety old soul and she thrived on gossip. He wouldn’t even have to participate to fuel her passions. Cole decided to try his luck in the halls, hoping that some food had already been laid out in an effort to prepare for the soon-to-be arriving crowd.

The second he cracked open the Lower Hall door, the smell of fresh breads and meats floated over him and his stomach growled in approval. He stepped inside and headed for the closest table. Grabbing a pitcher of ale and a platter of what looked to be a mixture of fowl and beef, he quickly turned around and headed back out, ignoring the smiles and looks of the few servants setting tables and benches in preparation for even more food.

As soon as he turned around, Cole knew the trip back would not be as blissfully uneventful. Brighid was waving at him from across the yard and heading his way. There was no way he could carry everything back to the tower before she reached him. He took a deep breath and exhaled, hoping that whatever she wanted to discuss would be quick. And painless.

No such luck.

“Hello,
laird
.”

Cole raised a single brow to the greeting. It was the first time Brighid had referred to him as laird, and he couldn’t tell if she was being sincere or sarcastic. He suspected a little bit of both.

Brighid grinned. “You are, are you not?”

“Aye,” Cole replied and glanced down at the young skinny girl with reddish-brown hair standing beside Brighid.

Her pale blue eyes caught his attention right before she rolled them in an exaggerated fashion. She elbowed Brighid in the ribs and said, “Don’t pretend you weren’t just reminded of the fact. I heard Donald give you clear instructions about referring to Ellenor as milady and this one as laird. I also heard what you told him—”

“Hush, Maegan, and I mean it. Not another word,” scolded Brighid. Then she mouthed the words “Clyde’s friend” to Cole.

Understanding was instant. He had heard about “Clyde’s shadow” but had never met the boisterous girl that followed his youngest brother everywhere. All knew she was wild, outspoken, and driven to the interests of boys, and most clansmen pitied Clyde in tolerating her. Not Cole. Clyde was young and by far the most charitable of his brothers, but he would have ended this shadow business long ago if her company were undesirable. Few understood that his baby brother, while relaxed and comparably mellow to his elder siblings, kept close company with only those whose level of candor was typically considered rude. And this girl, if anything, was honest. Brighid could lecture her, but he suspected it would do no good.

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