Highland Brides 03 - On Bended Knee (33 page)

Seana curled her hands about his neck, clinging to him. “And what do ye think ye are doing, husband of mine?”

“Taking ye to bed!” he told her, his tone brooking no argument. He winked at her, ignoring the jeers and leers he received as he passed by his kinsmen. The crowd parted for them, shouting out bawdy advice for the newlyweds. Montgomerie’s men were a polite lot, compared to his own, but he didn’t miss the gleam of appreciation in their eyes as he passed them by as well.

Seana laughed as he started up the stairwell. “Och, but we have not even eaten yet!”

Colin grinned at her, feeling quite merciless. “I had another feast in mind,
wife
.” He bent to kiss her mouth, not caring who saw, who heard. Laughter and ribaldry followed them all the way to their chamber.

“Dinna even think to follow us in,” he said, without turning. But he knew the men were there because he could hear them panting at his back.

“Awwwwwwww,” came the reply in unison.

“Greedy bastard!” said auld Angus of the MacKinnons.

“Damn right!” Colin said, and slammed the door on their protests. He carried Seana within. He didn’t care how the English did it. No one was going to set eyes on his bride, but him. He walked to the bed, and tossed her upon it, then returned to bar the door… just in case.

This feast was his alone to enjoy.

Her heart leaping within her breast, Seana held her breath as she watched her husband’s purposeful stride.

She had both been anticipating this moment and dreading it, as well, for she was certain he would find her lacking. Och, but he had been with so many women!

He was so beautiful a man… how could he possibly want her? How could he look at her as though she were perfect, when she was so very far from it?

Trembling despite her desire for him, Seana watched him bar the door. He turned to her then, smiling mischievously.

Her gaze was drawn suddenly to the open window. She blinked in surprise at the sight of two black cats sitting so primly upon the window’s ledge.

“My Love?”

How the devil had they gotten up here?

“The sound of that is so beautiful from your lips,” Colin said, kneeling upon the bed.

Seana peered up at him, bewildered. “Not you!” she exclaimed. “The cat!”

He peered at the window now, following her gaze. “What are they doing up here?”

“How the devil should I know!” Seana replied, nonplused. There were two of them.
Two cats.
As her da had claimed there would be—but nay, she would not believe it. Could not. She shook her head, bemused by the sight of them.

“What is it, Seana?”

She peered up at her husband once more. What could she possibly say? He’d never believe it either. “Naught,” she fibbed, wrinkling her brow.

Caressing her thighs over her lovely borrowed gown, he dismissed the cats better than Seana could. Though she had never been happier in her life, she really couldn’t consummate her vows… not while her… ma and da could be watching.

“What is it, my love?”

Och, but it sounded ridiculous even to Seana. How could she possibly speak it aloud?

“Naught,” she said again, and grimaced as she peered up at her husband. He was her husband now, and why shouldn’t she be able to make love to him in front of two scrawny cats? His hand slid down her gown… to her ankle, caressing her softly, then slid back up her skirt, his lips curving roguishly as he watched her.

Seana backed away from him. Damned cats were spoiling her wedding night!

“Dinna be frightened, my dearling,” he coaxed her, obviously misunderstanding her skittishness. “I love all of ye,” he assured her, his voice dropping to a silky murmur. “Every last inch of your lovely body…”

Her heart pitter-pattered against her ribs as he pushed up her skirts, his fingers stroking her softly.

Seana groaned and laid back upon the bed, torn between wanting to scurry away from him to close the shutters… and wanting him never to stop…

His touch was making her dizzy.

“Colin,” she murmured, losing her will to resist him.

“Hush, Seana,” he said, and slid his hand further up her calf, baring her legs.

Seana held her breath, as he slipped down the side of the bed to the floor, kneeling before her. Gazing at her first, he removed one slipper then the other… tossing them aside.

“Colin,” she whimpered in protest, but her heart beat faster as he pulled her to the edge of the bed. “Och, Colin,” she exclaimed, and swallowed the lump in her throat as he bent to kiss her feet with his mouth. He kissed each of her toes then… her ankle… then moved up to caress her calves with his soft warm lips.

Seana swallowed the emotion that welled in her throat, for his intention was not lost to her. She knew what he was doing, and the gesture moved her as nothing else ever had in her entire life.

Her legs… there were no visible scars upon them, but she was self-conscious of them all the same. Save that he wasn’t allowing it… he pushed her gown up higher… higher, loving her without reservation.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, and Seana’s eyes stung with tears. He met her gaze then, and whispered, with such affection, “I love you, Seana.”

Seana’s heart felt near to bursting with the adoration so apparent in his eyes.

“I love you, too, Colin,” she whispered back, and closed her eyes. She moaned with shock and pleasure as he parted her legs and moved between them once more, kissing her in that most private place…

“Let me,” he begged her when she wriggled in protest, and buried his face between her trembling thighs.

Seana wanted to… oh, God, she wanted to! His mouth was delicious, doing wicked things to her, making her body writhe beneath his tongue.

Her heart beat furiously, and her head fell backward… and then she remembered the bloody cats.

“Ack!” she exclaimed, and tried to sit up.

Colin held her fast, but peered up at her, his tongue still moving softly upon her, and Seana’s face heated. She jerked down her skirts over his head.

“Seana?” he appealed, not bothering to come out from under her dress. “What are ye doing, lass?”

“We cannot do this now!” she declared. “It isn’t a good time!”

He chuckled. “O’ course we can,” he argued, and his tongue darted out playfully, tasting her in such a scandalous manner, that Seana thought she’d die… of pleasure… or mortification.

My Love, at least Seana thought it was My Love, gave a little mew from the windowsill, and Seana told herself she would be mad to think it anything more than a silly cat.

Colin slid his hands beneath her bottom suddenly and jerked her nearer, teasing her once more with his tongue… deeper.

Seana moaned in protest. “Colin!” she cried. “Ye dinna understand!”

Och, but it was just a silly cat, she told herself! No more than a cat!

Two cats.

As her father had said.

“Oh, but I do,” he assured her. “And I give you my word I will be gentle, Seana.”

He kissed her once more, intimately, the same way he’d kissed her mouth… and Seana pleaded with him, “Please… oh, please… Oh, God, please don’t stop,” she begged. “Noooooo… but not in front of the cats!”

He pulled the skirt off his head suddenly and gave her a bewildered glance, his blue eyes narrowing. “What the devil are you talking about, Seana?”

Seana shrugged, and nodded sheepishly at the window.

“We cannot in front of the cats!” Her cheeks burned with chagrin. “Whatever would they think?”

For a moment, she feared he would think her mad, but he seemed more amused than anything else.

“They would not think anything at all, my darling wife, but if it will make you feel better, I shall put them out at once.” And he rose from the bed, plucked up the cats from the windowsill, before they could flee him, and carried them to the door. He opened it, and tossed them out, onto the heads of two auld men who were listening at the keyhole. He barred the door once more and turned to face her.

“Thank you,” Seana said, and giggled at his expression.

His brows lifted. “Anything more?”

Seana reached down and lifted her skirt playfully, inviting him under once more. At the look of sheer lust he gave her, she felt suddenly emboldened.

“Och, Seana,” Colin said, and couldn’t take his eyes off the treasure she offered him. He closed the distance to the bed in a few easy strides, and would have dove at her, save that he wanted to be gentle with her on her first time.

He wanted to please her, wanted her to feel cherished…

He liked the way she looked at him… with that mixture of little-girl impishness and womanly pride. He lifted off his tunic, and stood before her, wanting her to see all of him, wanting her to know how much he wanted her.

Her eyes widened just the slightest, and Colin’s smile turned wicked. He stood before her, crooking a finger at her, coaxing her to stand.

He helped her with her gown, shrugging it up and pulling it over her head, leaving her bare to his hungry gaze.

Beautiful.

He touched her breasts reverently… testing their luscious weight against his palms.

Lust clawed at his loins.

Her body was a feast for his senses.

He couldn’t think any longer. Pushing her down upon the bed, he climbed atop her, reveling in the nakedness between them… warm soft flesh caressed him as he lay down over her.

“You’re mine!” he said, lest she forget somehow, and bent to kiss those lips that had taunted him for far too long.

His bold words sent a quiver through her, but Seana couldn’t speak to reply. She swallowed convulsively at the weight of his body atop her, and closed her eyes.

She moaned softly as he took her mouth, kissing it softly first, then deeper, offering her his tongue. Seana suckled it greedily, her arms going about her husband, and he groaned his approval.

Satisfaction filled her at the sound.

She trusted him fully… knew he would not hurt her, and so she boldly spread her legs for him, pulling him closer.

He shuddered in response and Seana smiled softly.

“Och, God!” he exclaimed, and began to move against her with such wicked purpose that Seana thought her heart would stop. Warmth seeped through her body, filling her deeply.

She moved with him… their bodies dancing together in an age-old lovers’ ritual.

And then she felt him there… hard and full with his desire… and held her breath as he pushed inside… slowly… so slowly Seana thought she might die.

Not thinking, only feeling, she thrust her hips upward, sheathing him fully, and he fell atop her, his arms buckling under the onslaught of his pleasure. The pain was minimal… her body wanted this so desperately. Whatever pain their joining inflicted was swiftly replaced by a coupling so sweet that Seana no longer felt separate.

Now they were one.

He made love to her then, holding her close, cherishing her with his kisses, bringing her to the edge of reason… pleasure… ecstasy…

Seana cried out, her body shuddering joyfully beneath him.

He gave an answering cry and his own body shook in release. He fell against her, then, holding her tight. “This moment, I give ye my heart and soul, Seana… ’til death us do part.”

Seana sighed, no longer afraid of the truth.

“I would give ye mine,” she whispered back, lazing in his arms, her hands tangling in his hair, “but ye already had it, Colin Mac Brodie.”

Seana felt him smile against her breast… and she smiled in return.

“I will cherish it always,” he swore.

And cherish her he did… twice more that night before the sun blinked into their window…

And every day of the rest of their lives.

Uisge beatha
, pronounced “ooshkie bayha” is the Gaelic term for water of life, or more commonly known to us as whisky. For the ancient Gaels, whisky was initially thought to hold healing properties and cherished (even today, how many Scots—or Irish!—do you know who jealously guard their bottles of Jameson!). The origins of whisky distilling are obscure, but there are documented attempts in Asia as long ago as 800 BC. No one really knows when the practice came to Britain, but the earliest documented record of distilling in Scotland occurs in 1494 in an entry in the Exchequer Rolls calling for 1500 bottles of the
aqua vito
, which implies that the practice of distilling whiskey was already long established. Sometime in the 17th century,
uisge bea
tha was abbreviated to
uiskie
and by 1715 it was termed
whiskie.
In my world (and in this book), Seana is exactly the sort of person who would have been born to brew … “
Here’s to the heath, the hill and the heather, the bonnet, the plaid, the kilt and the feather!”

The MacKinnon’s Bride

Lyon’s Gift

On Bended Knee