Read Shifter’s Baby (Alpha Fantasy Paranormal Billionaire Shifter BBW Romance) Online
Authors: Faye Summers
Shifter’s Baby (Alpha Fantasy Paranormal Billionaire Shifter BBW Romance) (102 page)
Once Danny had finished a bowl and a half of stobhach and a sizable chunk of bread, Isobel saw him on his way. When she returned to the kitchen, the letter still stared at her from the wooden table. There was only one person who would be writing from Loch Mead – Willie McAllister. Willie owned a pub similar to the Highlander Arms up in Loch Mead. He and Duncan had grown up together in Loch Dunnough, until each had gone their separate way. While the two had been great friends as children, the cost of sending mail meant that they only really stayed in touch once a year when they took turns visiting the other, or when something of significance occurred. The last time that Willie had written it had been when his pub had been broken in to. Knowing the culprits, Willie had enlisted Duncan’s help in tracking them down and bringing them to justice.
Isobel picked up the letter, turning it over in her hands. Holding it up to the light she squinted. She could see nothing but Willie’s chicken scratch handwriting and none of it was legible. She glanced at the door, contemplating opening the letter herself. If she was careful, she could open it and reveal it without Duncan knowing - at least, that was, if he didn't come back in to the kitchen for anything. She looked back at the letter.
“Did I hear young Danny back here?” Duncan appeared in the doorway making her decision for her.
“Yes.” She nodded, her red curls falling around her face. “He came with a letter from Willie.” She held the letter out to him. Duncan looked at it, his brow furrowed.
“Ay, it's never good news from Willie.” He said, taking the envelope in his stubby fingers and tearing off the end. Pulling the letter out, he unfolded it and scanned it quickly. After a few minutes of silence he sighed loudly. “No, it's never good news from Willie indeed.” He said.
“What is it?” Isobel asked.
“There's a clan of highlanders on the move. He caught wind of it from Dougal Lannah. They passed by Loch Mead, but they're headed our way.” Duncan said, setting the letter on the table.
“What does that mean?” Isobel asked.
“It means that we need to batten down the hatches.” He said. “Keep somethin’ on ye at all times.”
“Something?” She asked. Duncan nodded.
“Aye, a knife in ye garter, a sword in ye belt…somethin’ ta keep yerself safe.” He said. Suddenly Isobel didn't feel safe at all. Her heart began to pound and all of the color drained from her face. Duncan must have noticed because he took a step closer. “Listen, I canna tell ye that I can fight off a whole clan, but I'll protect ye to my death.” He said. This didn't make Isobel feel much safer at all.
“But what if they come and what if you can't save me? What if they come when I am at home?” She asked.
“That's why I tell ye keep somethin’ on ye at all times.” He said. “And stay inside as much as ye can, and don't go wanderin’ off.” Isobel nodded. “I'd better go and get the word out.” Duncan gave her one last glance before
ding back towards the bar. Moments later Isobel heard his booming voice warning the patrons to ‘prepare for the worst.’ She felt sick to her stomach.
Isobel all but ran back home, holding up her skirt as she went. Every noise she heard put her to moving just a little bit faster. She had never encountered a highlander before and while she was sure that an entire clan of them would make enough noise to give her warning, she questioned whether they did everything as a group. Perhaps, she thought, they sent out scouts to survey before attacking. In this case a single young woman traveling alone would make the perfect target. This thought only served to quicken her pace and by the time she got to her father’s house she was breathless. She fell in to the wooden door, her fists pounding loudly.
“Mama it's me! Let me in! Hurry!” She shouted as the door rattled on its hinges.
“Hold ye horses! I'm comin’, I'm comin’” her mother’s voice came from inside the small cottage.
“Hurry!” Isobel repeated as she heard the lock sliding open. As the door opened, Isobel fell inside, pushed past her mother and slammed the door shut again with her back up against it.
“Good Lord child, what on Earth has got in to ye?” Her mother said, peering at the sweat soaked curls that stuck to Isobel’s face. Isobel waved her off as she struggled to catch her breath.
“What's all the noise?” Isobel’s father came barreling in, his green eyes fiery and his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“Isobel has herself all in a tizzy!” Her mother said. “Lord only know what's wrong with the girl.”
Isobel turned around and slid the lock across to secure the door. Then she turned back to face her parents.
“It's Willie.” She said, still slightly out of breath. “He wrote to Duncan. There's a highlander clan on the move. They're heading our way.” She said, stumbling forward and sitting at the kitchen table. Her mother followed her, leaning down.
“What do you mean, they're heading our way?” She asked, the color draining from her face completely. Isobel looked at her and then back at her father, she could see that he was already calculating, his fingers twitching on the handle of his sword. She had always believed that her father could protect her from anything, but with an entire highlander clan headed their way, she wasn't so sure.
Isobel lay in bed staring up at the ceiling in the darkness. She wore the days clothes in case danger should come during the night. She was going to be prepared. She wondered just what a clan of highlanders would do were they to come straight through Dunn Hill. She had heard plenty of stories, plenty of warnings that had kept her in Dunn Hill to begin with. Everything she had heard couldn't possibly be true though, could it? Would a group of men really burn down a village just to burn down a village? Or murder children for having blood other than their own? Did they really carry off women in the middle of the night to make them their own? The more she thought about it the louder the thrum of her heart became. It was deafening.
Isobel pulled up the blankets, covering her mouth to muffle the sound of her hurried breathing. The warmth of her breath in the cocoon of blankets was comforting, but her fear still left her with goosebumps. It was as though her insides were trembling. As she lay there she tried to do the math. In the time that it took for a letter to travel from Loch Mead to Dunn Hill a highlander clan could make some headway. She wasn't sure exactly how long it would take for them to arrive – if indeed they were to arrive at all, but it couldn't be that much longer. Her father had furnished Isobel and her mother both with swords, but when it all came down to it, Isobel wasn't sure that she could even pick hers up, let alone use it! Still, she had put it beside her bed and as she lay in the dark, she ran her hand over the cool metal handle.
It must have been three o’clock in the morning when Isobel awoke with a start. She hadn't fallen asleep all that long ago, but something had caused her eyes to snap open. She lay wide eyed, listening again for the noise she thought she had heard. It sounded like scuffling, like a badger or a hedgehog moving clumsily in the dark. She waited. When the sound didn't come again, she began to slowly drift off to sleep. Just as she was beginning to dream, the scuffling noise came again, but this time it was louder and it was definitely not a badger. Isobel lay still, afraid to move, her fingers poised on the handle of her sword. She debated calling for her father, but he would have to be up in just a few hours to get to work and she didn't want to awaken him for her own peace of mind. Besides, she thought, even with as loud as the scrabbling noise had been, there was no way that there was a clan of highlanders preparing to steal her away. No, this sounded more like a stag, a single creature stumbling in the darkness, scrabbling to find its way under the new moon. She relaxed her grip on the handle of her sword, that's probably what it was, she told herself. The darkness of the new moon always sent a handful of creatures in to town as they lost their way.
Isobel threw back her blankets and knelt up on the bed, peering out of the window. The blackness of the night stared right back at her. She strained her eyes, staring in to the tree line of the woods behind the cottage. From the closeness of the scrabbling, she had imagined that she would see something, but no matter how long she searched the darkness, she still saw nothing.
“Stupid girl!” She chastised herself. “Yer imagination is getting’ the better of ye!” She shook her head at her own stupidity and lay back down in bed, pulling the covers back up over her mouth. Whatever was out there wasn't going to get inside, she told herself as she closed her eyes, her father had made sure of that. She just needed to relax, there was nothing a group of heathens could do to take over Dunn Hill, not with the men of the town at the ready.
Isobel had just drifted off to sleep again for the second time when she was awakened. This time it wasn't a noise that awakened her at all, it was something much more intrusive. Startled, she opened her eyes to find a man knelt over her. As she opened her mouth to scream, he slapped his hand across it quickly and leaned down further. His mouth pressed close to her ear, he whispered.
“Shh!” He looked across the small room to check for anyone else and when he found that it was just him and Isobel he leaned back down. “Keep your mouth closed and I'll take my hand away…” Isobel nodded. She had no intention of staying quiet. She couldn't see through the darkness, but she knew that this man was a foreigner. He smelled differently and his accent had a slight lilt to it that she didn't recognize. “Can I trust ye?” He asked. Isobel nodded again and this time the man laughed quietly in to her ear. “Dunna think that I'm that stupid, lassie.” He said, running his fingers down her cheekbone. “Now, I'm gonna ask ye some questions. Nod for yes and shake for no.” Isobel nodded. “Is there anyone else in this house?” He asked. She nodded. “A husband?” He asked. She shook her head.
“My parents.” She tried to mumble from under his hand. Instinctively he pulled his hand away. “My parents.” She said again, without a thought to the fact that she could now scream for help.
“And are they asleep?” He asked.
“Yes…” Isobel whispered.
“Good…let's leave it that way, shall we?” He asked. Isobel nodded. The man shifted on top of her and through the blankets she could feel the handle of his sword poking in to her. She couldn't explain it, but it sent a rush of excitement through her body, especially as he leaned down to speak to her. “Do you know what I am?” The man asked. Isobel was quite sure that she knew, but something about speaking it out loud made her nervous so she simply nodded again. “Then you know what I am capable of?” He said. Isobel nodded again. She wasn't quite sure what he was capable of, but she was positive that she didn't want to find out.
Isobel stared up at the figure that had her pinned to the bed. She could make out only his silhouette through the darkness.
“Are you going to kill me?” Isobel whispered fearfully in to the dark. The man laughed quietly.
“I canna see ye in the dark, lassie, but I don't make a habit of killin’ a pretty woman.” He said. Then he did something that Isobel had not been expecting at all, he pressed his lips firmly against hers. Despite wanting to resist, she soon gave in to his soft mouth, parting her lips to allow him to taste her. His tongue snaked slowly in to her mouth as he pressed himself against her, his sword handle somehow seeming to grow as he did.
As the kiss became deeper, Isobel felt her body beginning to flush. A deep yearning emanated from her core as she arched her back, pushing in to his kiss and his sword handle. The way that thick long handle rubbed against her made her forget all about the strangeness of the man in the dark, instead it made her hungry for a passion she had never known before.
“Take me…” She whispered, pulling out of their kiss. The man seemed shocked as their rapid breath filled the darkness. Isobel repeated her request. “Take me…” Her fingers now running through his long hair.
“Do you know who I am?” The man asked again. Isobel nodded. “Then say it. Tell me that you know what I am and that you still want me to take you.” Isobel swallowed hard.
“You are a highlander.” She whispered in to the dark. The man leaned down, pressing his nose to hers.
“And I have the power to lead a raid on this town…” He said quietly. “To wipe out everyone of your people.” His eyes darted down to her mouth and then back to her eyes. “Do you still want me to take you?” He asked. Isobel nodded. She knew that she shouldn't nod, that she shouldn't want such a savage to ravage her that way, but it was all she could think of as the bulge of his sword pushed against her. Her chest rose heavily as he reached down with one hand and cupped her breast firmly.
“Ah!” Isobel gasped. The highlander leaned in, silencing her as he pressed his mouth against hers, warning her not to give him away. Her body undulated under his, her hips lifting, pushing in to the bulk that was his sword. He squeezed her breast hard, bringing his thumb and index finger to pinch her nipple. “Mmm!” She hummed in to his mouth. He pulled back out of the kiss.
“You must keep quiet. If you want this, you must stay silent.” He spoke firmly and Isobel nodded. The highlander leaned back, sitting on top of her and bringing his fingers to the lace of her corset. Quickly, deftly, he unlaced her, tugging at the thick fabric to expose her milky white breasts. His fingers brushed lightly over her pale pink nipples. “So white…so innocent.” He whispered, her nipples budding under his surprisingly light touch. Isobel ran her tongue over her lips, hungry to feel him on her, in her. “Tell me…are you a virgin?” He asked, ripping open her corset completely and sliding down her body to remove her skirt.
“Yes…” Isobel whispered. “I am not married.” The highlander laughed lightly.
“You dunna have to be a virgin to be married, lassie.” He whispered. Isobel felt her cheeks growing red. She had always been told that no man would want an unpure woman. “Still…it'll be my pleasure to take ye flower of innocence.” He smiled as he tugged at the waistband of her skirt.
As his fingertips lightly brushed her thighs, Isobel gasped as quietly as she could. The lightest accidental touch sent butterflies careening around her stomach and instinctively she raised her hips to him. He pulled her skirt down, over her calves, over her ankles, until she was free from it. Then he brought his hand up to the thin fabric of her undergarments. His fingers slid between her thighs, his thumb pressing against her clitoris as his fingers pushed against her opening.
“Ah!” Isobel gasped a little too loudly and catching herself, she pressed her lips together firmly and hummed quietly. Her hips lifting off the bed as he teased her most intimate of places. Her eyes locked on his as he rubbed her gently. His face turned from the hardened sun-leathered skin of a highlander, to the soft expression of a man.
“Am I hurtin’ ye?” He whispered. Isobel shook her head.
With confirmation that he was free to continue, the highlander swiftly relieved Isobel of her undergarments. For minutes he marveled at the thick bush of fiery red hair, unable to see through the darkness, but feeling it's softness with his fingertips. As he ran his fingers through it, Isobel could hear his breath coming faster, hungrier.
“Can you bring me the pleasure I hear women speak of behind closed doors?” She whispered. A question she would never dare ask in even the slightest hint of light. In response to her question, the highlander parted her thighs gently with his hands. Isobel took a stuttering breath in and he leaned down, his soft beard tickling the sensitive skin on her thighs. She could scarcely imagine what he was going to do, but when she felt the first brush of his tongue against her soft wetness, she was almost positive she had died and gone to heaven.