Highlander Unraveled (Highland Bound Book 6) (18 page)

“So I am not as clever as I thought?”

“Oh, no, my love, you are very clever. And sexy, handsome, powerful, cunning, protective. I could not have married a better man.”

“Och, to hear ye say those things love, ye’ll make my head grow big, my ego even bigger.”

“’Tis not bad to stroke your ego,” she said, reaching her hand between us. “Especially if it is while I am stroking your cock.”

I groaned, trying to keep the sound soft so as not to overpower the thunder of the falls. Her hand was magic, silky, smooth, and she knew just the right way to touch me.

“I canna be the only one…” I murmured, sliding my hands up her thighs, my fingers dipping against her moist sex.

She shivered, and I swallowed her cries of pleasure with a searing kiss that left us both craving more.

Unable to take the separation any longer, I tugged her hips forward, sliding my cock along the seam of her netherlips until I reached her entrance.

Emma rocked forward at the same time I thrust, driving all the way up inside her. Her cunny, slick and hot, gripped me, stroked me.

“Och, my love,” I murmured, biting her lower lip and sucking. “I’m so glad I found ye.”

“Me, too. Me, too...” She kissed me hard then, tightening her hold on me, driving her hands through my hair and tugging hard at the base of my skull.

Tendrils of pleasure radiated through my body. I loved the way she touched me, claimed me as her own, even as I did the same.

Emma rocked back and forth on top of me, her knees settled beside me, and then she was riding me in earnest, set on finding release. I held tight to her hips, hissed a breath and forced myself not to climax right then and there. It was hard not to lose complete control when my wife took over the pace. Any sense of control was loose and slippery in my grasp, and I stopped fighting it. Stopped trying to grasp hold, and instead, I rode the waves of her pleasure, kissing and swallowing every sensual moan.

Chapter Eighteen

Emma

When I woke on the chill, damp cave floor, it was to Logan’s whispered words against my cheek. “We need to go now.”

His arms were still around me, my back flush to his chest. We’d slept for hours. I couldn’t be sure just how long, but the sun had set, and the cave was nearly pitch black except for the silver-hued shards of water falling.

I nodded, rolling in his arms and clutching him to me. One more embrace before we were once more running for our lives.

“Fold your gown up into your satchel again,” he said. “Else, ye’ll be draped in cold water the whole night through and without the sun, ye’ll not be able to get warm quick enough.”

I started to undress, goose bumps skating over my arms and legs. I was grateful for the heat, which always seemed to radiate from his skin.

The moon shone on the surface of the water, making it sparkle black and gold. We slipped in, unseen, and even though I was prepared for the bite of its chill, I still had to grit my teeth. The water came up to my waist.

Neither of us said a word as we crossed to the left side of the shore. The water didn’t get shallower as it did on the far side, but stayed at about waist level. The floor of the spring was covered in slippery stones and moss. I tiptoed carefully, not wanting to slip and make a splash.

Logan tried to tug me into his arms, but I thought I might actually be warmer using my own muscles to pull my weight through the water. But, since it wasn’t too far of a distance, I didn’t end up exerting enough energy to make a difference. Logan paused at the shore, his hands flattened to the bank. I stilled. He pointed to his ear, to let me know he was trying to listen for any unusual sounds before getting out.

Not hearing anything, he nodded and then wrapped his hands around my waist and lifted me effortlessly onto the bank. Then, he all but leapt from the water, landing on his feet beside me.

Shivering, I clamped my jaw tight, to keep my teeth from chattering. I pulled out my dry gown and put it back on, the cotton fabric soaking up the water on my skin and my underwear. I’d gone without a bra… Big mistake as it would have kept me warmer. Then again, it would have been soaked right now. So, maybe it was better that I’d left it at Moira and Shona’s house.

Logan’s plaid, which had dried through the hours we’d spent in the cave, seemed to have remained so. He’d balled it up once more, tucking it close to his body as he leapt through the falls. He’d held it over his head as he crossed the small pool, not letting it touch. I eyed it with envy, but didn’t dare ask for his clothing.

“Love,” Logan said, and I glanced at him. He was gazing down at me, the corner of his lip turned up in a grin. “Put this on, at least for a little while, will ye? Judging from where we are, there is a village close by that we can pilfer a few items, unseen, to make the journey home.”

“I can’t take your clothes,” I argued.

He held out his arms. “I’m wearing my shirt. Just for a little bit, until ye feel warm enough to share it.”

“All right. But only for a little bit.” As he passed it to me, I kissed the back of his hand. “Thank you.”

I wrapped his plaid around me, only mildly damp at the edges; it held a heat to it that my simple dress did not.

“Anything for ye, love.” He stroked my spine, and hugged me close for several heartbeats, rubbing warmth back into my bones.

We started to walk, a brisk pace, me taking at least two steps for every stride of Logan’s. I started to warm up quickly, even had a tiny prickle of sweat on my upper lip.

About an hour or so later, the flat lands to our right rose up in unnatural square and triangular shapes. A village.

I shoved Logan’s plaid at him and whispered, “Just in case. I don’t want you to be confronted without a plaid on. They’ll think you’re a miscreant of some sort, not recognizing you as their laird.”

Logan let out a soft chuckle. “Wouldn’t that be a story for the ages? Their laird sneaking into their village, practically nude, to steal from them?”

I laughed, and then bit my lip to silence myself. We’d not seen or heard any English since leaving the falls, nor any Scotsman—outlaw or no. We’d been pretty darn lucky actually, since leaving, and I prayed it remained so. Of all people, we deserved to have a bit of luck on our side.

“Stay close.” Fully dressed, Logan crept forward, bent slightly at the waist, and I did the same, not wanting to take a chance of being noticed.

A remote village like this would have at least one sentry on duty. About a hundred yards from the settlement, Logan dropped to his knees tugging me down.

He pointed toward the gated entrance—indeed, up on a small platform at the top of their wooden wall was a guard.

Logan made a circular motion with his hand, and I got the impression he wanted to approach the village from the rear. Keeping ourselves crouched low, we half-walked, half-ran, two hunchbacks stealing through the night of their own lands.

At the back of the village, Logan peered through the slats of the postern gate. There wasn’t anyone there. Our luck did, indeed, appear to be improving.

“Stay here,” he said.

I nodded, ducking to a crouch.

Logan disappeared into the village. My eyes were wide, staring into the wide expanse of the dark that surrounded the small parish, wishing there had been just an ounce of battery juice left in Mrs. MacDonald’s phone so I could put the flashlight on… just in case I needed to see something.

To keep myself calm, I started to count.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five... Fifty-seven. Fifty-eight. Fifty-nine.
All the way to one hundred, and still no sign of him.

I rubbed my eyes, to wipe away the sting of holding them open for so long.

“Come on, Logan,” I whispered. “Get back out here.”

My prayers were answered a few moments later when Logan emerged, the hot breath of a mount fanning over my face. I gazed up into the fuzzy, flared nostrils of a large horse. Logan reached down, and in one fluid motion, I grabbed onto his arm and he swung me up into the saddle in front of him. He wrapped me in a clean, warm, dry plaid, and I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning aloud at the feeling of warmth.

“We’ll be there much sooner, now,” he whispered against my ear. “Ye’ll be able to hold your bairn again before daybreak, with luck.”

I smiled up at him. “I can’t wait.”

Logan nuzzled my neck. “I know Saor has been missing ye.”

He walked the mount a fair distance away so as not to alert the one guard with the pounding of hooves. Once we were well enough away, he urged the horse into a gallop. I snuggled closer to him, holding on and filled with hope, elation, and relief.

This nightmare was soon going to be at an end. At home, finally, and reunited with my child. There was still of course the issue of Steven, Mrs. MacDonald and McAlister, but they could wait. I just wanted to be in my own bed, surrounded by the ones I loved.

A few hours later, just as Logan promised, before the sun had risen, we descended the mountain and Gealach’s towers, lit by torches, came into view.

“We’re home,” Logan said, his tone filled with the same sense of relief I felt. He urged the mount into a faster gallop and we charged down the mountainside, sailing over the heath toward the gates. “Cover your ears.”

I did as he suggested, pressing my hands to the side of my head.

Logan bellowed for the guards to raise the portcullis, to open the gates, in the name of their laird and mistress.

There was a great clambering of men on the battlements, of people rushing to do Logan’s bidding, combined with cheers, and shouts that echoed into the moonlit night.

As soon as we were through the gates, Shona ran at me, Saor in her arms.

I gasped, nearly choking on it as I reached for my child. Logan was quick to set me down from the horse, before I fell off in my eagerness to hold my baby again.

I wrapped my arms around him, pressed my lips to his head. Tears stung my eyes as I met his bright blue gaze. A smile touched his perfect little mouth and he wiggled and cooed with excitement in my arms.

Shona and Ewan embraced me with Saor in my arms, both loudly proclaiming their pleasure at my return.

“Where are Moira and Rory?” Logan asked.

“Bad news,” Ewan said. “A missive arrived from Dunleod. Ranulf, Rory’s son, the one who he’d had to lock up on account of his wanting his father dead?”

Logan nodded recognition. I barely listened, too enamored with the motherly love coursing through my veins.

“He’s escaped. Moira and Rory rushed back to Dunleod to assemble a search party. They fear Ranulf will put himself in danger in his eagerness to see revenge done on his father and his clan who abandoned him.”

That did get my attention. Ranulf hated Moira. Had threatened both their lives.

Wee Saor wrapped his chubby fingers around mine and held on tight, gurgling his pleasure.

“I do not envy them the task ahead.” Logan shook his head.

I clutched my baby to my chest, once more, my nose buried in his tuft of hair, smelling that sweet, soft scent. I could have breathed him in all day.

Saor cooed and gurgled, grasping at my skin. He smiled a wide, gummy grin, and I smiled back, rubbing my nose against his.

“There is something else, my laird,” Ewan said. “A visitor.”

“Who is it?” Logan’s voice was filled with irritation.

I knew he wanted to get up to our private chamber as much as I did, to be alone, just the three of us. A visitor was throwing a wrench in our plans for peace.

“A man named McAlister.”

I gasped, clutching Saor tighter to me. “Is he in the dungeon?” I asked.

Ewan looked startled, as did Shona beside me.

“Ye met him?” Shona asked.

“Aye.” I stiffened, suddenly on edge, recalling the sneaky older man. “He is not to be trusted.”

“Escort him to the dungeon,” Logan ordered, taking in my stricken expression.

Ewan touched the hilt of his sword. “Right away my laird.”

“Wait, before you go,” I asked. “Did he say why he was here?”

“He wanted to take Moira and I away,” Shona explained. “For our safety. Though he didn’t expound on it, even when pressed. The man was quite jittery, and after relaying that he believed Steven had you in captivity, he asked to retire. We’ve not yet had a chance to speak with him further.”

I nodded. “I do not fully understand everything myself, but there are a lot more people that can time travel, that
are
time traveling, of their own volition.”

I glanced around the courtyard, suddenly realizing we were not alone. Luckily it did not appear that anyone had heard what I said.

Logan put his arm around my shoulders. “Let’s retreat to the library.”

“I’ll meet ye there,” Ewan said. “I’ll have the man escorted to a more secure location, while we try to figure out what is going on.”

“I think that’s best,” Logan said.

Shona still looked extremely concerned.

We hurried to the library, the nursemaid, attempting to take Saor from me, but I shook my head. I’d not been able to nurse my baby in two days. I didn’t care who saw, I was going to do it.

In the library, I tucked Saor beneath the plaid, and he eagerly latched on. I sighed with relief, the painful pressure I’d been ignoring finally waning.

I listened as Ewan explained McAlister’s visit. I filled in what had happened to me with Steven, Mrs. MacDonald and McAlister before Logan appeared, and then Logan relayed what had happened when he arrived at Shona and Moira’s house.

“And that is why we cannot trust McAlister. We don’t know whose side he’s on or what his agenda is,” I said.

“I agree. There are too many questions he wasn’t able to—or refused to—answer,” Shona pointed out. “I have a suspicion he wants to take Shona and I back in time, to have us claim our rightful place as rulers. We don’t want to do that.”

“Logan and I will support whatever you decide,” I said, glancing up at my husband and sharing a secret smile. “We certainly can understand rejecting the crown, even if it is yours to take.”

“As ye had before, ye have my protection, and whatever ye need.”