Highlander Unchained (44 page)

Flora nodded, chastened. “I know. You accused me of having no concept of what it meant to be in charge and responsible.” He started to stop her, but she held him off. “There was more truth in that than I wanted to acknowledge. You were right—I couldn’t see past my own hurt to realize the difficulty you faced. You had an obligation to your clan and to your brother. But to me, duty equaled misery. I don’t have the family you do. I was raised not to blindly follow my duty. But I never understood that when you loved someone, you owed them…something. At the very least, I owed you an attempt to listen.”

He cupped her chin with his hand. “I need to trust that you will not run like that again.” He gave her a wry grin. “I might not always make decisions that you agree with.”

She smiled. “No, you probably won’t. I won’t promise not to be angry, but I will promise not to look for the first boat.”

He stroked the smooth curve of her cheek with his thumb. “You had reason to be angry. I handled it badly. I should have given you time; instead, I forced myself on you.” He met her gaze. “I deserved to be called a barbarian.”

She squeezed his hand. “I didn’t mean it, I wanted to hurt you. Actually, I was more frightened by my reaction.” Her cheeks heated. “I wanted to hate you, but my body wasn’t listening. I know you would never hurt me.”

“But I did,” he said quietly, referring not to the kiss, but to his bargain with Argyll. He knew it had struck at her most vulnerable place.

She lifted her gaze to his. But instead of anger, he saw the flicker of understanding beneath the hurt.

She sighed. “When I first realized what you and my cousin had planned, it seemed that my worst fears had come true. My mother’s life flashed before my eyes. All I could see was that I was being used as a pawn. I couldn’t separate your duty and your feelings for me. I couldn’t accept that you could love me and keep something from me at the same time—not that I don’t wish you’d confided in me.” She studied his face. “But I understand why you didn’t.”

“And I’m sorry for that, more sorry than you will ever know. I never meant to hurt you. At first, all I could think about was freeing my brother and getting my castle back, but it didn’t take long for me to know that I wanted you for myself. As I grew to know you, and care for you, I realized how badly the truth would hurt you. If there had been another choice, I would have taken it.”

“You did what you had to do. Not that I’m planning on thanking my cousin for interfering.”

Stubborn lass,
he thought with a grin. “I didn’t think you would. But marrying you I did for myself as much as for my brother.”

“What is important is that I love you and you love me. I can’t escape who I am any more than you can. You are chief, and I realize there are times you will have to put duty first. I’ll have to accept that I can’t have all of you.”

“Yes, you can,” he said softly. “You have all of my heart and soul.”

Her eyes glistened. “For a man who claims not to have a courtier’s silvery tongue, you seem to know precisely what to say.”

He stroked her chin with his thumb. “Then you forgive me?”

Her mouth twitched, and the naughty glint in her eyes returned. “I might be persuaded. But you will have to work extra hard to prove it to me.”

He was more than equal to the task. “I love you, Flora. If I have to spend the rest of my life proving it to you, I’ll be a happy man.”

“And I love you.”

She leaned over and reached for something on the table beside the bed. It took him a moment to realize what it was. She lifted it up and he bent his head, allowing the amulet to drop over his head.

“It belongs to you now.”

A lump lodged in his throat. “Are you sure, lass?”

She nodded, her eyes damp with tears—not of sadness, but of happiness. “You have given your life for mine, and now I willingly give this to you—my husband, my love.”

He didn’t know what to say, so instead he kissed her gently. Tasting the saltiness of her tears and the warm honey taste of her lips and tongue. Before the hard pull of possession dragged him in, slowly, reluctantly, he released her.

He started to pull away, intending to give her rest, but Flora had different intentions. Her hands slid down his chest, his shirt still damp from his unplanned swim. His blood stirred hot at her touch. She peeked up at him from under her long lashes. “Hmm…I was thinking you might care to prove it right now.” She feigned a shiver. “I’m feeling chilled. These blankets don’t seem to be working. I was hoping you might be able to think of a way to warm me?”

He stilled, wanting nothing more. But he also didn’t want to risk overtiring her in her weakened state. Her hand skimmed the waistband of his trews, and he captured her wrist before she could touch him, knowing that once she did, he would be past the point of reason. His need for her was so strong, it would be like trying to harness a lightning bolt.

“Are you sure, lass?” His voice was tight with restraint. “This time there will be no going back. The marriage has not been recorded. If you want out of it, I’ve promised your brother I would not contest it.”

“I’m done looking back. I only want to look to the future. With you.”

He let go of her wrist, and when she covered him with her sweet little hand, he groaned into her mouth as he claimed the woman he loved.

Flora tasted his groan of pleasure as she slid her hand over his trews, molding him with her hand. Just touching him again made her flood with heat. He was so big and hard, and she couldn’t wait to feel him inside her—filling her as he thrust hard and deep.

Her body pulsed with desire.

She wanted to hold on to every second and make this last forever. But the touch of his mouth on hers was like wildfire, and she knew there would be no containing the passion that burned between them. It was too hot, too intense, too out of control.

After nearly losing him, she needed him too badly.

Her hands skimmed over his back and shoulders, pressing him closer.
God, he was amazing.
So gorgeous and strong. His warrior’s body layered with solid, thick muscle that flexed under her fingertips.

He broke the kiss only long enough to pull off his shirt and trews and then slid into the bed beside her, pulling her against him as his mouth fell on hers again. She melted into the heat, wanting to feel every powerful inch of him pressed against her. His warm, smooth skin wreaked havoc on her senses, making her tingle where they touched.

His big hands took command of her body. He touched her everywhere, stroking, caressing, igniting. His fingers plunged through her hair, down her back, and over her bottom. His rough, callused palms were both gentle and possessive as he lifted her against him.

Her body was damp and throbbing—desperate for him. The craving ran from the deepest part of her, taking hold and demanding release.

And he wanted her, though he was struggling to contain it. He kissed her harder, his tongue sliding into her mouth with deep, demanding strokes. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted him wild—beyond restraint—the way he’d been in her room last night. The way she felt right now.

“Don’t,” she murmured against his mouth.

He pulled back, and she could see his confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t hold back. I want all of you. You don’t need to protect me.” She lifted up to kiss him, sliding her tongue along the velvety crease of his mouth. “I won’t break.”

His eyes searched her face.

“You could never frighten me,” she assured him. He was so beautiful, this wild, passionate man. She kissed him again, sliding her tongue in his mouth and circling her tongue with his in a deeply erotic, deeply carnal openmouthed kiss. “Show me,” she breathed. “I want to feel your passion…unchained.” She circled him with her hand. His eyes flared, and the spark of danger urged her on.

Holding his gaze, she challenged him, stroking him, squeezing with long, hard strokes. She wouldn’t let him go. He was hers. All of him—even that rough, untamed side of him that he sought to hide.

The flames rose higher and higher in his eyes….

She’d won. His control snapped. She was on her back, and he was kissing her, his mouth moving over her lips, her jaw, her neck. Dominating. Ravaging. Wild and free.

He licked and sucked, making her shudder as his warm breath blew across her damp skin. He cupped her breasts and buried his face between her, the stubble of his beard scraping the tender flesh. She arched against him, needing more. Needing his mouth.

He covered her throbbing nipple and sucked, pulling her between his teeth until she writhed against him. Until her body began to spasm.

He lifted his head and held her gaze as he entered her in one hard thrust. The pleasure made her cry out. So big and thick, he filled her so completely, the pleasure was so acute, she couldn’t stand it.

And then he started to move, holding her gaze the entire time. The raw intensity of his expression took her breath away. It wasn’t just lust, or even just love, but something far more elemental: a perfect union of two bodies and two souls into one. He was meant for her and she for him.

She could feel the emotion surging in him just under her fingertips, his entire body pulsating with the pressure of everything that had happened between them. How close they’d come to losing each other. He thrust deeper and deeper. Harder and harder. And she met him stroke for stroke.

This was it. He was out of control, utterly consumed. And so was she. Never had she felt so alive and free. She felt the pressure build, knew she was close, but she had to hold on…. He sank in her deep, pushing higher, forcing her.

She couldn’t breathe. It felt too good. She pulsed with heat, and sensation rippled through her in warm, wet waves.

She felt him stiffen, saw the pleasure transform his face, and heard the deep guttural cry that tore from him as his release gripped his body, and she let go…weightless for a long heartbeat before breaking apart with a shattering intensity, her body contracting hard around him, the warm rush of his seed spilling deep inside her.

He was merciless, not even letting her catch her breath. Still warm and tingling, he rocked his hips against her, rubbing her hard against him until she cried out again. Slow and strong, wave after wave of sensation crashed over her. And when the last ebb of her release had faded, he nestled her against him tenderly, as if she might break.

She was moved beyond speech by the magnitude of what had just happened. He’d given her everything: his love, his body, his soul, and his trust.

Lachlan smoothed his hand over her warm, velvety skin, watching as the frantic rise and fall of her chest slowed. He didn’t know what to say. Words seemed an imperfect substitute for what he was feeling right now. Happy, content, relieved—all seemed utterly inadequate.

The misery of the past few days had been put behind them. The uncertainty of revealing his bargain with Argyll, the pain of their confrontation, arriving home with his brother to discover her gone, seeing her on that rock, realizing what Hector intended, and then watching her jump into the frigid, churning seas. It had all been expunged, released in a cataclysmic explosion of love and lust.

She’d stripped him to the core, seen behind the veil of civility, and given him only love and acceptance.

He’d made her his wife, bound her to him for eternity, but never had he felt so free—unchained, as she’d called it.

My wife
.

She sighed deeply.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She turned to him and smiled. “More than all right.”

He tilted her chin, gazing deep into her eyes. “I love you.”

“I know.” Her mouth curved in a naughty little grin. “You finally succeeded in proving it to me.”

“Thank God,” he groaned. “I don’t think I could do that again.”

But as they found out a few hours later, he was wrong.

Epilogue

August 1608

Flora strolled across the moors with her husband, savoring the last hours of calm before the storm. It was hard to believe a year had passed since they’d returned to Breacachadh. But Mary’s wedding to Allan was only a few days away, and soon the guests would be arriving for the week-long celebration, provoking a mix of nervousness and anticipation. For the first time in years, all of her brothers and sisters would be in the same place at the same time—except for Hector, who was still the reluctant guest of Argyll.

She sighed contentedly. That dark day seemed a lifetime ago.

The late summer sun beat down hard and bright, intensifying the vibrant panoply of colorful flowers strewn across the countryside. She inhaled deeply, the sweet, pungent scent a gentle reminder of nature’s bounty this year. Everywhere she looked were signs of the largesse that had befallen them since they’d returned to Breacachadh. It seemed almost…magical.

“Do you think she’s happy for us?” She spoke her thoughts aloud.

Lachlan gazed at her with a quizzical look in his face. “Who?”

“Elizabeth Campbell.”

He grinned, and her heart caught. The boyish look on his face was a testament to the transformation wrought by happiness. He was lighter than before, relaxed. The clan thrived, and the constant struggle he’d faced since the death of his father had come to a welcome end. But she knew it was more than that. Their love had been tested by the events of last summer, but as a result it had only grown stronger.