A Highlander's Obsession (Highlander's Beloved) (26 page)

“Creighton? My God, is it always like this?” Paisley knelt in front of him, placing her palms on his shoulders. “You’re trembling. Stay here. I’ll get a blanket.”

“Need food.”
Honey! Salmon!
Mention rations and his frightened bear suddenly grew brave again.

“What do you need? I’ll run downstairs and get you a plate.”

“Eggs, salmon … biscuits slathered in honey. Orange juice.” He groped and slid his hand up her calf. “Put yer clothes on first.” He didn’t want anyone seeing her in her sleep shirt.

“I’ll grab my robe. Stay here.”

As if he could go anywhere. Hell, he could barely see and he was too weak to stand. Last night’s long battle with Duncan and then dragging the unconscious bear out of the cave had worn him out more than he’d expected. Creighton’s brothers suspected Duncan’s cocaine use increased his strength, and made overpowering him more difficult. Shifting twice within a matter of minutes today had further drained him. He’d never experienced anything like this.

The pinpoint of a red robe’s hem and bare feet came into view and a warm comforter settled over his back. “I won’t be long.” The door to the hallway opened and closed. He rolled onto his side, snuggling beneath the cover’s warmth, his eyes drifted shut and he sighed …

“Creighton? Lift your head.”

“What?” He forced his eyelids open. Paisley was on her knees next to him. She cupped her hand behind his neck and lifted his head to slide a pillow beneath. Aromas of baked salmon and honey made his bear smile.
Glad she’s not angry. She’s like a swarm of bees when she’s pissed
.

He coiled his fingers around her thin wrist. “I’m sorry, luv. I’m verra sorry ye’re upset.”

She jerked her hand from his grasp. “I’m not in the mood to be touched right now. Lie still. I’ll feed you.” She spooned a mound of scrambled eggs into his mouth.

“Salmon, please.”

She fed him a bite of salmon. “At least now I understand your fondness for salmon and honey.” She scooped another bite of fish and stilled it in front of his lips. “Shifters really exist. They’re not just fictional fodder for movies and books.” She shook her head once and sighed.

“Aye. They exist. We exist.” He opened his mouth and accepted the morsel. His vision was clearing, thank God.

“I’m still trying to come to grips with it all. I mean, it was totally bizarre. Yet how different are your abilities from my being able to communicate with animals? They’re both otherworldly.” She fed him more salmon. “I saw it with my own eyes.” She stared at the wall behind him as if experiencing his transformation again. “Part of me wanted to freak, while the other was fascinated by what I observed.” She held a honey-laden biscuit to his lips and he
wolfed it down.

“Waves of energy shimmered around you … er … the bear. For a few seconds, I couldn’t distinguish everything. It was like seeing the world through opaque rainbow glasses. Red, blue, purple.” She exhaled a shaky breath. “I watched fur retract into your skin.” Her fingertips fluttered over her face and arm. “Then the shape of your head changed. Dear God, I saw it all.” Her hand shook when she gave him another bite of eggs. “You know, I thought I heard bones cracking. It was the scariest and yet the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed.” Her blue eyes focused on him. “Does it hurt when you change?”

“Sometimes there is discomfort. Today I’m exhausted, and that escalated the pain.” He reached for a biscuit, shoved it into his mouth and licked the honey off his fingers. His bear moaned in delight.

“According to all I learned in college, this is impossible. Holy shit, I just watched the laws of nature write their own decrees. I know, I’m babbling. I’m sorry. I can’t seem to get beyond what just happened.” She forked some eggs into her own mouth, seemingly forgetting his hunger. “I can’t wait to see you shift back to a bear.”

“Let’s reserve that fer another day.” He reached for another biscuit.

“If you can feed yourself, I’m going to shower, get dressed, and try to calm my nerves. Holy shit! You shifted right in front of me.” She stood and tugged on the ties of her robe. “Look, I might be in awe of what just happened, but I’m still pissed you messed with my mind.”

“I only did it because ye fainted after seeing the ghosts. Ye were tired from the long trip, so much had happened, and I wanted to ease yer mind.”

“Ghosts? Ainsley and Broden? You mean I saw them and fainted?”

He nodded and reached for the glass of juice. “Aye, although it seemed to be Great-Grandma’s mention of the curse that pushed ye over the edge.”

“Oh yes, your family’s curse is another obstacle hanging between us. What else happened that made you decide to alter my mind?”

Her annoyed tone made him wince. “Ye also saw me shift.”

“Where?”

“Here in this room.”

She twirled the velour ties over two fingers as if hesitant to ask. “What other memories did you erase?”

He glanced away. God, she was going to be fukin’ mad. “Our first kiss.” And more, so much more.

She released the ties and her hands fisted again. “Our first kiss? The first kiss is always the sweetest, the most memorable. Damn you! You had no right to take that memory from me.” She whirled, stalked into the bedroom, and slammed the door.

She’s mad again. I didn’t do nothin’
. “Nay, bear, I own her anger. I’m afraid I made a hell of a mistake, but I was only trying to protect the woman I love.”
Go to her. Kiss
. “Nay, she needs space. I need sleep. I’ll do me groveling later.” Now that his stomach was full, he tugged the blanket over his shoulder and drifted to sleep.

A pinch of cool air skittered across his arse, and he snatched the quilt back in place.
Need more slumber
.

“Why is he naked? My God, what a delightful ass he’s got. Couldn’t you just bite it?”

“Gram, stop peeking! What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with him? If he’s naked, why isn’t he in your bed and why aren’t you wrapped around him? Surely you didn’t toss him out.”

“Shush!”

The feminine whispers had Creighton wide awake. The shuffle of baffies stepped around him and the toe of a pink pelican slowly lifted the blanket off his pecker. “Bet he’s heavy hung, just like my Morris.”

“Yer pelican has a big nose.” He snatched the cover and slid it under his hip, groaning at the auld lecher. “Canna a man be left to sleep in peace?”

“Oops. I didn’t mean to waken you.”

“Nay, ye just meant to examine all me manly bits.” His gaze swept across her bony ankles and up her red slacks to a yellow sweatshirt that read
Senior citizens need sex, not donut holes
. What the hell did that mean? Some batty American expression, no doubt.

With his grip firm on the blanket, he stood, and his gaze settled on Paisley. “Do ye feel better after yer shower?”

She glared and turned her back. If they were alone, he’d have gone to her, but he refused to have this discussion in front of anyone else.

Effie tugged on the hem of her yellow sweatshirt. “Sweet pea, the naked gentleman asked you a question. Anger is no excuse for rudeness. I’m concerned about the color of your aura right
now.”

“My aura is my own damn business.” Paisley crossed her arms.

“Don’t put pressure on her, Effie. She has a right to her annoyance. I made a bad choice in judgment and stole something from her.”

Paisley turned, tears pooling in her eyes. “Go away.”

Her tears and trembling chin settled in his stomach like a burning log. “I’ll do as ye ask … fer now.” He turned his gaze on Effie. “Tonight is the
cèilidh
. I think Mum has a light supper planned since there will be refreshments there. I’m honored ye and Paisley will be attending with me. ’Twill be a chance fer ye to experience Scottish customs and meet more people.”

Her wrinkled hand fluttered to her throat and she beamed a smile. “I’m looking forward to it. Will men wear kilts?” The auld broad had the audacity to wink at him. “I do love a man in a kilt.”

For all his concern over Paisley, Effie’s bawdy spirit made him smile. “Aye. People will be wearing their clan’s tartan.”

Effie’s glance flitted to her granddaughter. “What should we wear?”

“I’ve taken the liberty of ordering proper clothing fer ye and Paisley to wear to the
cèilidh
, although many of the younger generation prefer to come in jeans.”

Paisley turned, her face set in stone. “You take a lot of liberties with people.”

She was no doubt referring to his erasing her thoughts. He wouldn’t rise to her bait. “Aye, I am laird. It’s me duty to protect and provide. Which reminds me, I have an important meeting to attend later this afternoon. I won’t see ye ladies until dinner.” He stepped to Paisley, his grasp still tight on the quilt. “Give me a kiss before I go.”

Her eyes flashed brilliant blue before turning dark and stormy. “I don’t know if Gram’s in the mood for kissing or not, but I can double-damn guarantee you I’m not.” She shoved her owlish glasses up her nose and scowled. Sweet God, the woman was appealing as hell when she was pissed. One dose of her attitude and he was so turned on he could barely take in his next breath. She—his golden-haired beauty—
was
his next breath, and would be until the day he died.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair and tugged so that her angry eyes looked into his. “Aye, ye do want to be kissed. Ye want it and need it as much as I do.”

“If you two lovebirds will excuse me, I’m going to lie down for a nap.” Effie hurried to her room. “I’m sure I won’t hear a thing.”

Creighton’s gaze slid from the closed door to narrowed eyes behind black frames. He ran a finger along one of the sidepieces. “Ye know, when I first met ye, I hated these bloody things. I wondered why an attractive woman would wear such butt-ugly glasses. Now I love them, just as I love everything about ye.”

She rolled her eyes.

His love was well and truly pissed. He was about to teach her how determined a Scot could be. He nuzzled her neck and inhaled her cherry-blossom fragrance. “I love how ye smell.”

She grunted.

He smiled against her neck. “Ye have skin like human silk. Soft. Sensual.” He nipped her jawline and soothed with his tongue.

She shivered ever so slightly.

“Ye are perfection in me eyes.” He sucked on her lower lip and her eyes crossed. With great care, he breathed kisses across her face, then dropped the blanket to the floor, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her to him. “I love ye with a fierceness, and God knows I’m sorry fer taking away some of yer memory. ’Twas the wrong thing to do, and I promise never to do it again.”

Her warm hands settled on his chest. “You stole the memory of our first kiss. That can’t be given back.” Blue eyes tore at his soul. “It’s lost to me forever.”

“Will ye allow me to share the memory I have of it?”

She pulled back. “You don’t remember the kiss. Men don’t place importance on sentimental things like women do.”

“Ye’ve never known a Scottish man before, have ye? We Scots value our sentimentality. I’ve replayed that kiss over and over in me mind.” He splayed his fingers in her hair and stared into her eyes for a few seconds, allowing every nuance of that kiss to surface in his mind. “I remember putting me fingers in yer soft tresses like this. I told ye I was giving in to the need to do what I’d desired the minute I watched ye exit the Land Rover with the Scottish gales blowing about yer golden hair.”

“You remember all that?”

“Aye.” He smiled at her skepticism. “Then I said, ‘I’m going to kiss ye,’ and ye replied with, ‘You are?’ And I said I was. Then I slipped off yer glasses.” He slid her dark frames from her nose and laid them on the desk behind her.

She blinked twice. “What then?”

“I said, ‘I’m going to kiss ye, well and good.’ ”

Her delectable lips twitched. “That seems to be a favorite saying of yours.”

“Aye, with ye, it is.” He pressed his lips against her temple and she leaned in to him. Her hands eased from his chest to his shoulders. “I told ye when I was through”—his lips rubbed across her cheek—“it would be me ye dreamed of that night, not yer fiancé.” His hold tightened on her and his mouth forged a trail to her ear, drawing her earlobe into his mouth just as he remembered doing in this same room in front of the roaring fire. “I promised ye it would be me ye yearned for.”

She exhaled an audible sigh.

His teeth grazed her jawline.

Her mouth opened in response, and a moan escaped.

“That’s how it was between us, me beauty. I poured me heart out to ye and ye breathed in me words, me passion. Ye felt what I shared with ye and yer body responded, just as it’s doing now.” Her moan caressed his ears and he bestowed tiny kisses, featherlight, over her face while his arms held her to him. “We are like thirst and water, ye and I. Thirst and water.”

Her fingers curled and uncurled in his hair. “Did you really say those words to me that night?”

He nodded and pulled back. “When the moment trembled with passion, I told ye to look at me, and when yer breathtaking blue eyes opened, I slowly lowered me head like this.” Her eyes widened as his head lowered, slowly, ever so slowly. When his lips were a fraction of an inch away from hers, he stopped. “I never wanted to kiss a woman the way I wanted,
needed
to kiss ye at that moment.” He groaned and his voice lowered to a pained whisper. “Just as I need to kiss ye now,
leannan
.” Finally, he allowed his lips to cover hers. Cover and take control.

Arousing mewling sounds emerged from her throat. He hardened in response. When his tongue swept across her lips, she opened. He stroked his tongue across hers and groaned at her honeyed sweetness. There was no struggle, only surrender. She surrendered her anger to him and he surrendered his soul to her.

Creighton broke the kiss for an instant to angle his head and slip his hand under her sweater. “My God,
leannan
, yer addictive. An obsession.” Slowly he slid his hand up her back, pushing her tighter against him. Chest to chest. Thigh to thigh. The friction of her sweater and
jeans against his bare skin brought sexual sensations that begged and screamed for more. He cupped her bottom and lifted her to him. She wrapped her legs around his hips and he pressed his groin against hers. Desire roared through his system.
Mate. Mate, now
.