STICK: MC ROMANCE NOVELLA (Forsaken Riders MC Romance Book 8) (14 page)

BOOK: STICK: MC ROMANCE NOVELLA (Forsaken Riders MC Romance Book 8)
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4.

 

 

As the taxi pulled away, Moira entered the quaint bed and breakfast where she was booked for her first few nights in Scotland. She hadn’t had any idea what to expect from Lennoxtown, so she had planned to move on to other areas after she had explored the land of her ancestors.

After the little old lady at reception gave her the key to her room, Moira tightly clutched onto the pelt as she made her way up the stairs, dragging her heavy luggage behind her.

The room was basic but large, and she went straight into the bathroom and ran the big marble sink full of warm, soapy water. The pelt was so beautiful and soft, she had no idea how it had ended up lying on the floor of the derelict castle but she wanted to revive it as much as she could and take care of it. She put it into the sink and let the water seep into it, and then rubbed and massaged until all of the dust and bits of dirt and crumbling stone seemed to have come loose. Afterwards she rinsed it under the shower and rung it out before plugging in the hair dryer and carefully drying it while running a thick comb through the soft fur. She felt so much affection for it, but she couldn’t figure out why.

Once the pelt had been groomed and was silky smooth and shining, she lay it out across the end of her bed and looked at the clock. It was almost 10:00 pm, and she hadn’t even eaten or unpacked her bags. Her body ached and her mind was swimming with possibility and information. She wanted to unpack, but she also wanted to explore. She opened the small menu at the side of the bed which told her that breakfast would be served between 7:30 am and 9:30 am the following morning. It was a long time to wait, but she would have to stick it out.

After she hung up the clothes she didn’t want to get too creased, she got into her pajamas and lay down on the bed before turning on the television. She smiled as the array of English and Scottish accents came flying at her, and when the temperature dropped and she found herself chilly, she pulled the wolf pelt up from the foot of the bed and wrapped herself in it. The faint scent of strawberry shower gel still lurked among the soft fur.

As she watched the local news, her eyes grew heavy and the warmth from the pelt was keeping her so comfy in her little cocoon it wasn’t long before she drifted off soundly to sleep.

5.

 

 

The cold bit her skin as she stirred the following morning. The air was icy and she shivered beneath the wolf pelt as she clutched it to her and nuzzled into it, pulling it close and breathing in deep. She hadn’t yet opened her eyes, but she could tell something was different. It wasn’t just the temperature in her room, but the smell and sounds around her and the breeze blasting her ankles. She shivered and pulled the pelt around her again, almost nervous to acknowledge that something was wrong and someone could potentially be in the room with her.  She rubbed her eyes and slowly opened them. The shock hit her all at once, and she jumped up, flying back against the headboard, which was hard as stone.

Moira was no longer in the adorably old-fashioned bed and breakfast, but in a large stone room that looked like it could have been something out of a strange movie. Something not from her time at all. She looked down and the pelt was the only thing she recognized. Even her clothes had gone and she was wearing a long, raggy brown robe. She hugged her knees to her chest and got to her feet. When they touched the stone floor, the icy cold shot up her legs and made her tremble.

“Where am I?” she said aloud as she rushed to the window.

When she looked out, she could tell that she was in some sort of castle structure, and she was very high up from the ground. She was still in Scotland by the looks of things and from the view from her bed chamber, she could see the rolling hills and a lovely blue loch in the distance. The sun was shining, making the landscape look so beautiful and peaceful, but it was so cold, she shivered and was gripped with fear.

“Kincaid Tower,” a gruff voice came from behind her. She turned to see a small woman standing in front of her. She was haggard and old, but her eyes were warm and welcoming.

“What?” Moira asked.

The woman laughed and shook her head before approaching her with a long and elaborately stitched green dress.

“Here,” she said. “You look cold.”

“It’s freezing,” Moira complained. “Who are you and what happened to the bed and breakfast?”

The little woman looked at her as if she were crazy and shrugged.

“You’ll have to get dressed quickly, lassie. Sir Hamish is on his way to see you.”

“Who?” Moira protested as the woman pulled the dress down over her head and began to lace her in at the back.

“Sir Hamish,” she laughed at her. “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of him.”

“Well to be honest…” She was about to launch into a long rant about how she actually hadn’t ever heard of him and that also she was completely confused as to what the hell was going on, but before she could finish her sentence, the door to the bed chamber burst open and a tall, hulking, red-haired man stood in front of her. His arms were thick and veiny, and he wore armor over his massive frame. Moira swallowed with shock as she looked up at him and realized that she did know him, and had indeed seem him before.

The man in front of her was no stranger...

He was the one who had seduced her in her dream. 

 

***

 

“Moira?” he asked as he stepped forward and looked at her as if he was unsure that she was real.

“Yes?” She took a step back, afraid of what may happen.

“It really is you.” His face relaxed and opened warmly. “My God, I never thought we would see each other again.”

Moira looked at him with confusion in her eyes and the little woman came beside her and wrapped a protective arm around her before pushing her forwards.

“What’s going on?” Moira asked.

“You came back,” Hamish smiled. “I thought I’d lost you forever, but you came back.”

She didn’t know what to say or where to look… Was this some kind of elaborate joke? Had the taxi driver and the woman from the bed and breakfast set the whole thing up? Or worse, was Jack Tranter somehow involved?

“Elizabeth,” Hamish said proudly, “we must show our guest nothing but kindness, please, and make sure she wants for nothing.”

The little lady smiled and bowed daintily, and Hamish stepped closer again so he was almost right up against Moira.

“I am so happy to see you again,” he reached out and touched her cheek. “I really had thought that I’d lost you.”

As Moira looked in his eyes, something stirred in her. The dream was one thing and was fresh and vivid in her mind, but there was something within Hamish that was more than familiar… They had been tied together before, she was sure of it. There was a love running between them, ancient and unbreakable, and it made her quiver.

“I’ll be back for you.” He touched her hair softly before he turned and made his way towards the door. “Elizabeth, feed our guest and make sure she is safe.”

The little lady nodded and Hamish left the room with a loud slam of the door. 

6.

 

 

“Please, Elizabeth,” Moira pleaded. “I don’t understand. You must tell me what is happening!”

The little lady had constructed an impressive fire in the hearth and was stoking it with an iron rod. Moira was sitting on the end of the bed, her bare feet lightly skimming the cold stones of the floor.

Elizabeth turned to her and sat down in a chair by the fire before sighing and rubbing her temples.

“Moira,” she said slowly, “you really don’t remember?”

Moira shook her head with frustration and got to her feet, crossing the room and sitting in the chair opposite Elizabeth so the two women were either side of the fire. The orange glow from the flames shone brightly over both their faces, and Moira was so glad of the warmth as it spread through her chilled bones.

“You and Hamish were so in love,” she began. “And then one day you simply vanished… No one in all of Scotland could find you, and God knows we tried.” She stopped and let out a little laugh of sadness. “Hamish was always the one leading the pack, desperate to track you down, to find out who had taken you and what had become of you… But after years and years, he had to let go… It pained him to do it, it really did, but he is Sir Hamish Kincaid, and he was betrothed to marry another. The Kincaids have always married well to advance their position up here in these parts, and the Lord and Lady would not allow an exception. With you gone, they arranged for Hamish to wed Lady Fraser, much to his annoyance.”

Moira listened with intrigue, although she was certain the story she was hearing had nothing to do with her.

“But now you’ve returned,” Elizabeth said with a wry smile. “And now Hamish will not marry Lady Fraser.”

“Wait,” Moira interjected. “So how long have I been gone?” She believed she was humoring the old woman for information.

“Around three years,” she said, “And Hamish tried to find you… But eventually he had to admit you were never coming back.”

“So he hasn’t already married?” Moira chipped in.

“The wedding was fixed for tomorrow,” she explained. “But now he wants to dissolve the arrangement.”

Moira’s heart started to beat fast. This man, Sir Hamish Kincaid of the Kincaid Clan, wanted to call off his wedding because of her?

“There must be a misunderstanding,” Moira laughed. “I only arrived her from the United Stated yesterday… I went up to Lennox Castle to see where my ancestors had supposedly originated and then I checked into the bread and breakfast… That’s the last I remember.”

Elizabeth’s eyes were wide, but Moira couldn’t tell whether it was from fear or sympathy.

“I better get you something to eat, lassie,” she said as she got to her feet.

When Elizabeth left her alone in the room, Moira went back to the window and looked out across the hills. She couldn’t see anything for miles; the whole landscape was clear and untouched. She hadn’t seen much of Lennoxtown the night before, but she knew it was a developed area with a thriving community. There was a familiarity to where she was, but it was as if the whole town and castle had been cleared overnight and only the tower remained in its place. She looked back across the bleak bedroom. The bed was large and soft with layer upon layer of sheets and woven blankets. The wolf pelt was there in the center, looking even more glossy and new than it had after she cleaned it. The bed was a four-poster with thick, velvet drapes, and the fire in the corner of the room was the only source of light save for one small unlit candle next to the bed. There was no electricity and there was nothing to suggest that Moira was in her own time. Even Elizabeth’s dress and the one she had given to Moira to wear were odd and not of the same world.

The door creaked open and Elizabeth entered with a silver tray holding a whole cooked chicken and a strange cup filled with warm wine.

“Here you go, lassie,” she said as she set it down by the fire. “You need to eat and keep up your strength. You don’t want the Lord and Lady to accuse you of madness.”

The smell of the roast chicken almost sent her into a frenzy, and she descended on the plate as if it were the first time she had ever eaten.

After she finished, she glugged down the wine and relaxed into the chair by the warm fire. She felt instantly rested and revived and ready to hear anything Elizabeth had to tell her. She didn’t want to appear crazy in case it would backfire on her, so she pretended to agree with all that Elizabeth was saying to glean more information.

It was a strange thing, but the more time passed in that bed chamber, the more Moira felt at home. It was as if she had unlocked a secret door in her memory and all of the details were flooding back to her with each passing second. Even Elizabeth was becoming more familiar, and small snippets of memory were working their way back out of her subconscious. She remembered a day when she and Elizabeth went hunting and afterwards Elizabeth had bathed her sore and tired feet by the very same fire. Moira’s heart began to race with the realization that she had been there before and that both Hamish and Elizabeth were part of her past.

“What year is this?” she asked Elizabeth as if it were the most natural question in the world.

“Why it is 1581, my dear,” she smiled warmly. “Don’t tell me that from all your time away you’ve forgotten such important matters.”

Moira felt her blood run cold.

1581.

How could this be? How could she have traveled back in time almost four hundred and fifty years?

She was about to jump to her feet and scream when she heard the drum of footsteps coming hurriedly down the hall. She curled up on the chair and bit her lip as the door flew open and Sir Hamish came inside with a look of panic on his face.

“We have to hide you,” he said quickly. “The Frasers are coming to storm the castle!”

7.

 

 

Hamish swept Moira up into his arms and burst out of the bed chamber and began running down the darkened hallway. She clung to his neck and closed her eyes tight. She was so afraid.

Elizabeth trotted quickly behind them, carrying the wolf pelt in her arms and struggling to keep up with Hamish’s massive strides.

“We need to get to the top of the tower,” Hamish grunted as he heaved open a heavy wooden door and started up a spiral staircase. The stone steps weaved around the turret, and every time Moira looked down, her stomach dipped with fear. At the top of the staircase, Hamish kicked open the door and rushed her inside. He placed her gently on the floor and turned to Elizabeth who struggled to make it up there with them.

“No one must enter here,” he said seriously. “The Frasers want a war… I’m going to give them a war.”

“Sir Hamish,” Elizabeth began. “Please!”

“No!” he snapped. “I will not marry her! Not now that Moira has returned! She is my one and only true love!”

His words sent shock waves through Moira, and she clutched her heart as if Cupid himself had speared it with one of his arrows. She loved him too—she didn’t know how it was possible, but she did. Just being held in his arms had brought back the rush of a memory. The dream she experienced on the plane, she began to realize, had not been a dream at all. It had been a memory. She and Hamish had run through the fields, over the hills, and they had rolled in the heather and kissed down the long, winding castle corridors. He had made love to her for hours and told her he would never leave her. They had planned a family. They had wanted it all so badly and then suddenly something terrible had happened. The more Moira searched her memory, the more that came flooding back to her. And it was with an intense shock, one that shook her to her very core that she suddenly remembered what had happened to her and why she vanished one day without a word to anyone.

“Hamish,” she said, breaking the tension with her soft voice. “I remember… I remember what happened to me…”

He turned and stared at her deep in the eyes and took her hands in his.

“I didn’t run away,” she whispered. “I was murdered.”

The color drained from his face and Moira almost collapsed with terror as she recounted what had happened…

She had been out in the woods one morning, gathering firewood, even though this was not a task expected from her. Moira had always been a simple and kind girl and had never felt the need to have people waiting on her. Elizabeth had grown cold and tired, so Moira sent her back to Kincaid Tower to warm herself by the hearth. As Moira ventured deeper into the woods, she heard the crunching of twigs underfoot. Someone was following her.

She darted deeper into the forest and attempted to hide behind a fallen tree trunk, but she wasn’t fast enough to outrun her assailant.

As the shadow closed in on her and she looked up into the eyes of her killer, she noticed the brandished coat of arms of the Fraser Clan. Someone had been sent to kill her. The Frasers knew what they wanted, and it was for their eldest daughter Annabelle Fraser to wed Sir Hamish of Kincaid… Their alliance would unite the families and they would become a powerful force in Scotland.

 

***

 

The blood returned to Hamish’s face as she recounted the tale and he turned scarlet. He looked so angry, it almost seemed like his head was about to explode.

“The Frasers took you from me,” he stated. “But my love, how did you return?”

Moira asked for Elizabeth to leave the room and for them to have a private moment. She knew time was of the essence if Hamish was to go to battle and avenge her death, but she needed time with this man. She needed to reconnect with her love and tell him everything. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer to her, and the feeling of him against her was enough to almost make her cry with happiness. She had missed his touch so much and now they were together again, she never wanted to let him go.

“The Frasers will pay for what they’ve done,” he vowed.

Moira touched his face tenderly and Hamish bent forward to kiss her. When their lips touched, any remaining forgotten memories all came flooding back and united them in the most magical reunion of love.

“I’ve been so far away, Hamish,” Moira whispered. “You really have no idea.”

He looked at her with adoring eyes, and she knew that the truth would blow his mind, but how else could she explain returning from the dead?

“I believe the wolf pelt brought me back to you, Hamish,” she said. “I found it in Lennox Castle when I arrived in Scotland yesterday. However, my yesterday was not your yesterday. I have been living in another time… I was reborn to another mother and lived another life, but when I returned to Scotland to discover my ancestors’ history, I stumbled across something that allowed me to return to you. Somehow, the universe has made it all possible.”

Hamish nodded seriously. He believed her, and she believed that it was truly the only explanation.

“Lennox Castle?” he asked.

Moira nodded warily. She didn’t want to tell Hamish that eventually Kincaid Tower would crumble and another castle would rise in its place.

“Aye,” she said, her Scottish accent returning. “One day, a long time from now… Kincaid Tower will be no more and Lennox Castle will rise in its place,” she said with a heavy heart.

“No,” Hamish said with disbelief.

“Fight now, my love,” she told him. “You need to protect our home for as long as we can… Our children must be born here, and we will both die here.”

She touched his face and Hamish swept her up in his arms again. His breath was short and heavy, and he had a familiar look in his eyes that Moira recognized as pure animal lust and need. He threw her down onto the bed and climbed on top of her. He was so big and powerful, Moira lay beneath him and let him have his way with her right there and then. She wanted him to take her. She wanted to feel the touch of his skin against hers. She wanted to run her hands though his thick, red hair and nibble on his muscular arms and shoulders. She opened her legs and could feel the hot and stiff bulge of his member pressing against her and she moaned with pleasure.

After he ripped away her undergarments and removed his armor until he was naked before her, Moira gasped at the sight of his impressive manhood.

He held onto her legs and gripped her by the thighs as he pulled her to the edge of the bed and penetrated her with one long thrust. He groaned as he pumped himself in and out of her, gaining speed with each stroke and becoming harder inside of her. Moira threw her head back in pleasure and felt so opened and filled by him it wasn’t long until she was on the verge of the most incredible release of her entire two lives.

Hamish grunted as he powered into her once more and she felt his seed explode inside of her. The feeling of him emptying himself into her pussy was so intense that she too came hard and fast.

Hamish collapsed down onto the bed next to her and took her hand in his.

“I love you so much, Moira,” he whispered, “I can’t wait to start my life with you.”

Moira nuzzled into him and kissed him. She had never been so happy and so scared in her entire life. Because before that could happen, she knew Hamish was going to have to go out there and defeat the Frasers.

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