The Lady's Protector (Highland Bodyguards #1) (19 page)

“Aye,” he said, his lips curling softly. “I have been trying to deny it, trying to keep distance between us. But I cannae fight it anymore. I love ye. I want to be the one to bring ye the future ye long for. I want to be the one to share a family with ye, to keep ye safe, to live a simple life with ye.”

Suddenly it felt as though the earth was tilting on its side. Isolda’s legs wobbled precariously, her pulse hammering in her ears.

But just as suddenly, Ansel’s strong arms were around her, steadying her and keeping her from tumbling to the ground.

“I love you, too,” she whispered. Light and warmth surged through her, and she no longer needed his arms to keep her from falling. Nevertheless, she clung to him, for she feared that if she let go of him, she would go soaring right up to the heavens.

There was so much more to say, so much more she needed to share with him, but in that moment, her eyes landed on his mouth.

The air warmed between them, suddenly thick with anticipation. Ansel lowered his lips toward hers. Just before his mouth claimed hers completely, he froze. His lips hovered a hair’s breadth from hers, his breath teasing her.

“I want ye—now and forever. Say ye’ll be mine.”

“Aye,” she said, her voice tight with emotion. “Aye, Ansel Sutherland.”

Before she knew what was happening, he had grabbed hold of her hand and darted toward a copse of trees in the distance. Her legs stretched to keep up with him, and her heart pounded in anticipation.

She was his—and he was going to prove it right now.

Ansel had to force himself to slow down, for he was practically dragging Isolda toward the patch of woods ahead. His heart beat frantically in his chest, but it wasn’t from the speed of their flight toward the copse—nay, it was the knowledge that he loved her, and she loved him, too.

They both skidded to a halt when they crossed into the woods. The air was cool under the shade of the boughs overhead. Though the pine trees stood as thick and green as ever, the leaves had fallen from the oaks, allowing sunlight to dapple the forest floor all around them.

Isolda panted from their wild dash from the loch’s edge. She turned that pale green gaze on him. Her eyes were bright with emotion, her cheeks flushed and her hair windswept. The breath caught in Ansel’s lungs. Never had he seen anything more beautiful.

“What are you about?” she asked, but the excited curve of her lips told him she knew very well what he intended.

“I have wasted so much time trying no’ to touch ye,” he breathed. “I intend to put an end to that now.”

He stepped toward her, closing the distance between them. She held her ground even as she had to tilt head back to maintain their gaze. Her lips parted on an anticipatory gasp, and he saw his own desire, raw and hot, mirrored back to him in her delicate features.

This was not the time for teasing, or for gentleness. He needed to claim her and for her to claim him in return.

With a low growl reverberating in his throat, he captured her lips in a fierce kiss. The strength of his desire did not cause her to draw back, though. Instead, she met him, her fingers sinking into his shoulders and pinning them together.

Need surged into Ansel’s cock. His tongue invaded her mouth, and he almost groaned at her velvet heat. He would soon be inside her, feeling her clench around him with the pleasure he would give her.

But nay, he had to do this right, not rush things. One hand slid into her hair, luxuriating in its thick silk. The other he used to cup her bottom, pulling their hips flush so that she could feel the hard length of his desire for her.

Isolda whimpered into his mouth, arching so that her breasts rubbed against his chest. By God, she wanted him as desperately as he wanted her. Her unbridled desire sent a nigh overwhelming lick of hungry flames through his veins.

Bloody hell
.

There would be other times to go slow, a distant voice said in the back of his mind. Not now. He couldn’t delay any longer.

With the last shred of his willpower, he pulled away, breaking their kiss and his hold on her. He quickly unlooped the length of plaid from his shoulder and tugged his shirt over his head. Isolda stood watching him, her lips swollen and parted from his kiss and her breaths shallow and ragged.

Ansel’s mind reeled as he thought of what those lips could do.
Later
, the voice whispered.
There will be time to explore our love in every possible way later
. For now, the need to be inside her, to join their bodies as well as their hearts, overrode all.

He made quick work removing his boots and hose. His fingers fumbled with the buckle on his belt like a green lad, so eager was he to be rid of it. At last, the buckle popped free and the pleated plaid slid from his hips. He caught it before it could land at his feet and spread it out over the leaf-strewn forest floor.

As he straightened, he realized that Isolda still hadn’t moved. Her eyes were riveted on him, devouring his body.

“You are so beautiful,” she whispered.

He would have chuckled, for calling a brawny Highland warrior beautiful was cause to shed blood in some taverns and inns. But on Isolda’s lips, the word was spoken with reverence and longing. The knowledge of her unfettered desire sent his cock surging even more rigidly away from his body.

“Undo yer laces,” he ground out.

Her hands flew behind her, where the simple ties ran down her back. As she loosened her gown’s laces, he knelt on the plaid before her.

Ansel took hold of one of her ankles and lifted it slowly, giving her time to balance. He shucked off her boot, then peeled down her stocking. His fingers brushed the silken flesh behind her knee, and they both inhaled sharply at the same time.

He drew off her other boot and stocking in the same fashion, then slowly slid both hands up her legs.

Her skin was all warm cream and silk. He shuddered as he moved past her knees to the supple flesh of her thighs. His hands dragged her gown and chemise upward with them, baring her legs to his hungry gaze.

“Remove these,” he said, his voice a low rasp as he pushed her garments higher.

As Isolda pulled her gown and chemise over her head as one, Ansel could no longer resist the longing to feast on her body. He rocked forward until his lips brushed the dark curls over her womanhood. She gasped at the intimate contact but was still caught in her garments.

With a slowly darting tongue, he parted her, tasting her desire. A moan erupted from her as he found that bud of a woman’s pleasure. She at last freed herself from her clothes and carelessly tossed them aside. Her whole body went taut and little quivers rippled through her, originating where his tongue lapped and swirled.

Her knees trembled near his shoulders. Another breathy moan tumbled from her lips, sending a nigh painful throb into his bollocks. He would come undone with naught more than a warm breeze against his cock if he didn’t claim her now.

Ansel pulled his mouth away and gripped Isolda’s hips. He leaned backward onto the plaid, drawing her down with him until he lay on his back and she straddled him.

No words were needed now, for he recognized the liquid glint in her eyes. She understood his fierce need, for she felt it too. Her flushed skin, like berries and cream, and the way her teeth sank into her lip told him that she was just as hungry as he.

She positioned herself over him until his cock nudged her entrance. His fingers dug into her hips, letting her ease down onto his length. Inch by torturous inch, she lowered herself. She threw back her head, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders as he filled her.

By the time they were fully joined, he was panting through gritted teeth, his grasp on his self-control shredded to a mere thread. And when she moved, he feared he wouldn’t last for her.

His eyes feasted on her perfect breasts, round and pink tipped and bobbing gently with her motion. One of his hands lifted to cup her. He brushed her nipple and drew another moan from her.

Ansel’s other hand guided her in her rocking motion. He clenched his jaw against the urge to drive harder and faster.

But when he dropped his hand from her breast and his thumb found that nub of pleasure, Isolda’s rocking turned to trembling, her rhythm faltering. He surged into her, driven on by her cries of ecstasy.

A heartbeat later, the scorching heat that had coiled so tightly within him exploded into pure pleasure. His voice rumbled over hers as they both hung suspended in blinding release.

Isolda slumped over him, spent. Gently, he rolled her to the plaid under him and nestled her head against his chest. They both breathed the loamy forest air for several long moments as they drifted back down from the heights of pleasure.

“You didn’t seem surprised,” Isolda breathed at last against his chest.

He eased her onto her back and propped himself on one elbow so that he could gaze down at her soft features.

“That ye love me in return? I was indeed surprised,” he said, slanting his mouth in a playful smile. “I havenae done nearly enough good in my life to deserve the love of an angel.”

“Nay,” she said, a smile to match his curling her lips. “That is not what I meant. I mean…you didn’t seem surprised about my past…that I am not truly a lady.”

Her lips faltered and her dark brows drew together slightly as she gazed up at him.

He twined one of her dark locks around his finger. “I suspected as much,” he replied softly. “What with Embleton being recently constructed alongside Dunstanburgh, and the fact that Lancaster had sent ye there alone, it seemed likely that yer title was…well...”

He fumbled for the words to avoid injuring her, for it was clear in the depths of her green eyes that Lancaster’s callous treatment of her and John still hurt.

But she surprised him by nodding and letting his words fade. “But if you knew, why didn’t you question me on it? Why did you still call me
Lady
Isolda?”

He smiled faintly as he let his eyes trace her furrowed brows, her cheeks pinkened with pleasure, and her mouth, which, while still soft, had turned down slightly.

“I wanted ye to tell me when ye were ready,” he replied at last. “I wanted ye to trust me.”

The slight tension in her face eased and she looked up at him with vulnerable eyes. By God, he loved this woman.

Her gaze slipped to his chest, and her fingers grazed his skin, raising a ripple of awareness though he’d only just spent himself within her.

“Does this still pain you?” she asked, her fingertips brushing lightly over the place where she’d stitched him together. That night at Dunstanburgh seemed ages ago.

“Nay,” he said. “It is just one of many old scars now.”

He let his hand skim down her body to rest low on her stomach. “And what of these?” he asked. He gently swept his fingers over the fine white lines that faintly marked her skin between her hip bones.

“Old scars as well,” she said with a soft smile. “John gave me those while I carried him inside me.”

Something familiar yet foreign tugged in Ansel’s chest. It was similar to the love he now realized he bore for Isolda, but newer.

“I want ye to know,” he said, pausing to clear his throat of thick emotion. “That I will love John. He is a part of ye, and I love ye. I will protect and care for him as I do ye, Isolda.”

Isolda’s green eyes filled with tears. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I believe you. I…I trust you.”

She blinked back the tears, her eyes suddenly locking on his with an urgent intensity.

“John is here, Ansel. In Scotland.”

“What?”

Isolda flinched at the sharpness in Ansel’s voice. His hand stilled on her belly, his body suddenly rigid.

Her heart rose in her throat, but she was not afraid. Nay, she was finally brave enough to speak what had been eating away at her for nigh a year. And she was brave enough to love Ansel.

“John is here,” she repeated. “I am not sure exactly how far, but he is close.”

“Isolda,” he said, eyeing her cautiously, “I didnae tell ye I would love and protect John just to get his location out of ye—”

“Nay, I know,” she said quickly. “You wouldn’t do that. But…I
want
to tell you.”

Emotion, warm and powerful, once again surged through her. The words tumbled from her mouth in a rush as sudden clarity urged her on.

“I trust you. And I don’t want to run and hide anymore. I don’t want to return to England. I want to live here in the Highlands with you and John, to live as we have at Brora.”

Surprise followed quickly by tenderness flickered in Ansel’s dark eyes. The look he gave her stole her breath.

“I want that, too, lass,” he rasped, his eyes depthless as they held her gaze.

“Am I foolish for thinking this dream can become reality?” Her chest tightened with longing as she gazed up at him.

“Nay,” he said softly. He cupped her cheek in his hand. “No’ foolish at all, lass.”

Nevertheless, as he considered her question, his face hardened and his eyes drifted to the leaf-strewn forest floor beyond her head. It was as if he had transformed into a fierce, protective warrior before her eyes as he thought in silence for a long moment.

“Edward cannae touch us here in the Highlands—if he could, he would have already,” he said at last. “Ye ken I wouldnae take the risk if I thought there was one, but I believe we are at last free to live our lives in peace.”

Renewed hope flooded her. “Then I can see John again. And we can find some place to call our own. And—”

“Dinnae get ahead of yerself, lass,” Ansel said gently. “Are ye sure ye wish to tell me where John is?”

She held his gaze so that he had no room to mistake her. “Aye,” she said. “I want to tell you. And I want us to fetch him together.”

He nodded slowly and waited, his strong body motionless over her.

“A monk came through Dunstanburgh almost a year ago,” she began. “The accidents had just started, though I sensed it was worse than it appeared. I had thought that no one knew about John and my existence, but I feared that if someone found out that Lancaster had sired an illegitimate son, John would be targeted.”

Ansel nodded again, so she went on.

“The monk was on his way to the Highlands to rejoin his church—kirk, he called it. I told him of my fears for John, and he offered to take John with him into Scotland. He said John would be safe and secluded, and could study and live with the monks as other children sometimes do when they are to join the monastic order.”

“Where was the monk headed?”

“He said it was called Fearn Abbey,” she said, pronouncing it carefully to ensure she got it right.

The muscles in Ansel’s arms and shoulders suddenly bunched. “Fearn Abbey in Cadboll?”

“Aye,” she replied. “Do you know it?”

Ansel’s eyebrows shot up and his mouth curved in astonishment. “We are only a day’s ride from Cadboll, lass.”

Her breath caught in her throat and her heart twisted. She had been even closer to John than she could have possibly imagined these past several days.

She knew it was the work of her imagination, but suddenly she felt as though John was nearly in her arms at last. His excited heartbeat would pound against hers when she wrapped him in a fierce embrace. His fluttering breath would rustle her hair. A tide of happiness would break over them both when she saw him again.

“Can we go there now?” Isolda said, sitting up suddenly. She felt no shame in her nakedness before Ansel. Instead of fearing exposure, she felt freer than ever before. Her whole life was about to begin anew—with John and Ansel.

“We will have to get a few things in order first,” Ansel said. His normally hard features were relaxed, and his dark eyes twinkled with a joy that mirrored her own. “We’ll need to pack, for we will have to stay the night at the abbey. And Meredith will demand an explanation.”

As he mentioned his sister, Ansel rolled his eyes. Isolda couldn’t help the merry laugh that bubbled up to her throat.

“I know you too well, Ansel Sutherland. You will relish every second of telling your sister that you have finally captured my heart.”

“Finally?” Ansel’s smile turned wolfish, a predatory glint in his eyes. “I’ll get ye to admit that ye wanted me from the start—one way or another.”

With that, he dove on top of her, setting dancing fingers to her ribs. She squealed and squirmed against his tickles, but to no avail. Her laughter chimed through the sun-warmed forest until he finally took mercy on her and claimed her mouth once again.