Highland Pull (Highland Destiny 2) (12 page)

Randi was screaming and she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

The warrior turned and she was shocked to see Gabhran, but not Gabhran. He was dressed like he'd stepped out of the movie they’d been watching earlier. Was this a dream gone very wrong? The Gabhran who wasn’t her Gabhran reached her in two strides, pulled her from the bed, and shook her roughly by the shoulders.

“Stop it, lass, this is your home now, you are my wife, and you will not behave in such an unbecoming manner.”

She began to struggle in his arms and screamed louder. Quick as a flash his hand slapped her hard across the face.

“I said haud yer wheesht,” he bellowed.

Randi was so shocked she shut up immediately and stared up at Gabhran in stunned disbelief, her hand covering her cheek.

“Tis better, lass. You willna be making such a racket around here again. You are now the Lady of the castle and as my wife, you must maintain your dignity at all times. Do you understand me?” he asked in a low and dangerous voice.

Randi prayed she was dreaming, but that slap had felt remarkably real for a dream. She realized her mouth was hanging open and shut it with a snap.  

“I have estate business to attend to and will be gone much of the day. You will remain in your chambers. Your belongings have been placed in there and I will have a bath sent up for you. I expect you to dress for dinner; Lissa will help you. Do you have any questions?”

Randi had a thousand questions, but nothing she was prepared to share with this man in front of her, who mere hours ago had looked into her eyes with such love. Now he looked down at her as though she was a necessary, if unpleasant, fact of his life. She shook her head, thinking she would at least have the day to herself to figure out what was happening.

He put his hand under her chin. “I am sorry, lass, we should have had a fortnight, or more to get acquainted before the wedding, but there was not time. Your da should have told you. He agreed to the terms, and he knew I was looking for a wife to give me children as soon as possible.” She blinked rapidly.

“I hope I did not hurt you over much last night. You may have the day to recover. Your chamber is the room next to mine. All I require from you for the now is that you dine with me each evening, and I will bed you each night until you are with child.”

Miranda’s head began to shake from side to side while he was speaking, denying that any of this could be real. Waves of danger rolled off him. He used his big body to intimidate her, stepping closer so she was forced to step back and bend her neck back to look up at him. He kept coming until her bare back was pressed against the cold stone wall.
Bare back, oh God, I’m still naked!

She could smell the musky, spicy scent of him, his expanse of chest looked even larger
pressed up against her this way. He lowered his head, and she nervously licked her lips. He pushed his hand roughly between her thighs, and when he found her sopping wet, he shoved a finger inside, chuckling darkly.

“Think ye I didna notice that you enjoyed yourself last night, lass? Aye, I know you were a
maiden, the evidence was clear upon the both of us this morn. Think not to try and deny me what is my right, I will only take it from you by force if necessary.” He added a second finger and began to pump. She was raw from the lovemaking, and cried out with the brutal way he was touching her.

He removed his fingers and put them in his mouth, licking her moisture, savoring the taste, never taking his eyes from her. He lowered his face until his lips hovered above hers, her scent upon his breath. “I can pleasure you a thousand ways, lass. I will make it as enjoyable, or as rough as you want it, but know I will not be denied until you are with child.”

He grabbed her face in his hand and held it tight when she struggled to pull back. He took her mouth in a claiming kiss, his lips hard, cruel against hers. Then his mouth softened, and he ran his tongue along her lower lip before pulling on it gently, covering her mouth again. He put the pad of his thumb on the corner of her mouth, and despite her fury and fear, Randi's body responded.

Her nipples hardened as she became aware of their bare chests touching, and her breath quickened. Her lips parted and he took advantage and thrust in his tongue, deepening the kiss, stealing her breath. She forgot where she was for a minute, lost herself completely in his kiss, her tongue tangled with his, and she leaned into him, her hands going to his chest.  

He pressed his body to hers and ground his hips intimately against her. Randi was jerked back to reality. Or unreality. To wherever it was she had awakened this morning. She shoved both hands against his chest as hard as she could. Which against his powerful physique wasn’t very impressive. She squirmed and pulled her face back, trying to free the vice-like hold he had on her jaw.

He laughed darkly, not giving an inch. His breath was ragged and he bent his knees so that when he rubbed his erection against her, it was nestled against her
mons. His whisper was menacing when he finally spoke. “I see you have made your choice; rough it will be, lass.” He forced one more kiss against her unyielding mouth, then spun on his heel and left the room. Randi heard the lock click into place. She was in deep shit.

Randi ran to the bed, yanked a sheet off, and wrapped it around her body, before following him to the door, hoping she’d been mistaken and he had left it unlocked.
Locked up tight. Now what?
She paced the room, looking at her surroundings.

Everything about the room screamed luxury, in a medieval sort of way.
The four-poster bed was massive; she could lay in any direction and still not have any part of her body hang over. It was covered with layers of covers and piled with pillows. Rich tapestries hung from the walls and the floor was cool stone against her bare feet. The hearth was stone and although no fire burned in the grate, she could imagine sitting in one of the brocade covered chairs in front of it and warming her toes on a chilly evening.

There was one other door in the room, but it was also locked. She sank to the floor, with her back to the second door, and dropped her head into her hands. She knew this wasn’t a dream. Her cousin Marie had warned her that Gabhran’s essence felt ephemeral, as if he was already making the transition to another time. Somehow Gav had been pulled to a new life, a new reality, and she had been pulled along with him.

Despite her best intentions to be brave, the tears came then. Randi was not a crier, she hated it, hated feeling helpless. Yet here she was, with no clothes, no food or water. No bathroom! She was locked in a room, threatened by a man who mere hours ago had professed his love, and who now had all but boasted of owning her.

What started as gentle tears coursing down her cheeks, turned into full-blown
sobs. Her heart was breaking, she was alone, and she was scared.

A knock at the door behind her startled her, and she hiccupped a reply, “Yes?”

“Miss, I have your bath ready, if you are ready to come into your chambers.”

“The door is locked. I can’t get out.”

The doorknob rattled and Randi jumped to her feet, but nothing happened. Then there was a very long pause before the woman on the other side asked, “Did you try turning the key?”

Sniffing up her tears and wiping her face on the sheet, Randi looked at the door. Sure enough there was a key in the lock. She glanced over to the other door in the room, but there was no key in that lock. Sighing, she turned the key, and opened the door onto her new world.

Randi stepped tentatively through the door, and realized the rooms were of similar dimensions and layouts, but not mirror images. While Gabhran’s room felt dark and overbearing, this room by contrast, was much lighter, more welcoming.

If she stopped to consider that this was now her room, it would have been too much and she would start to cry again.

Tapestries suspended on long, moveable arms were pushed back from open windows. Cool air and sunshine poured in through the east-facing window. The room would continue to warm throughout the day from the window on the south wall.

There was a small fire in the hearth, and a large metal tub was placed behind a screen near
the fire. The view from the windows was spectacular. The castle was situated on a rocky outcropping, high above crashing waves, and a sparkling steel blue ocean—the color of Gabhran’s eyes—stretched as far as she could see.

“Is the room to your liking?” the woman behind her asked.

Randi spun around to see a young woman her own age, with an armful of towels.

“Yes, thank you, it’s lovely.” Randi was mindful of Gabhran’s earlier warning to behave with dignity, and she didn’t want to upset anyone or anything until she had a plan.

“Would you like me to help you with washing your hair, miss? The pitchers are next to the tub.”

“No, thank you,” Randi said, “but could I have something to eat and drink?”

“Yes, miss, I have already placed a tray in the sitting area with tea and chocolate, and a selection of pastries. If you would tell me what you prefer I will fetch it straight away.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I was so carried away by the view, I completely missed this, I’m sure it’s fine. Thank you so much. And please, call me Randi, that’s short for Miranda.”

The young woman looked at her strangely, almost pityingly, for a moment before she replied, “I think the Laird would not be pleased if I were to speak to you so informally, however, I could call you Miss Miranda on occasion, if ‘tis but the two of us. My name is Lissa, and I will be the one to attend you, for the now.

“I will return in a while to remove the tray and empty the bath. Do you have a preference for which of the dresses you will wear to dine with the Laird tonight?” 

“Pick whichever one you like best, Lissa.” Miranda shivered. “I would like to be alone for a while now, I think.”

“Aye, just knock on the door when you are ready for me to return and the guards will fetch me straight away. I have placed your day gown on the bed, and I will come to dress your hair when you are ready to prepare for dinner.”

“Knock? Guards? Am I confined to this chamber, then?”

“Aye, miss, we are to bring you what you need, and keep you in here until his Lordship returns. I am sorry, I assumed you knew.”

“It’s all right, Lissa, thanks,” Randi said on a sigh.

Lissa
knocked on the door and the guards let her out, before locking Randi securely in her chamber. It wasn’t like she had anywhere to run, she thought morosely. She had many things to think about, but she pushed them firmly from her mind until she was bathed and fed.

When Miranda stepped from the tub, she wrapped herself in the sheet again and explored the breakfast tray
Lissa had left behind. She poured herself a cup of tepid tea and nibbled on a pastry. Delicious.

She dressed in the rose-colored linen day gown that
Lissa had placed on the bed. It fit as though it were custom made for her, which she supposed might have been the case. She sat in the window seat looking out over the ocean, knowing it was time to think about her circumstances. She’d put it off long enough.

****

By the gods, the woman was stunning. When her father had arrived a scant hour before the wedding was to start, Gabhran was sure she would be disfigured or uncomely, despite the man’s assurances at the negotiation. The ceremony was a mere formality, held in the chapel, and witnessed only by his own companion, Ian, and her father.

Once the ceremony was complete the gold had changed hands, and her father left her, along with the cart of her belongings. Ian had escorted her to her new chambers, adjacent to Gabhran’s and left her there to wait his pleasure.

Gabhran had been very drunk, and only Ian’s skillful nudges at appropriate times had gotten him through the dreadful exchange. He was chagrinned to admit he didna remember much of their first night together. He’d already known she was old, twenty and four. He had suspected her father was lying when he had promised she was untouched. Yet when he had awakened this morning, the lass was spread on his bed, a mass of golden hair spilled about her, he had spied the telltale blood upon her thighs and on his shaft.

By Danu, he’d gotten a bargain in this exchange, as long as she proved to be fertile.

He had hated the thought of marrying for the sole purpose of creating heirs, but if the family line was to continue, it was now up to him. It was a bitter thought. His elder brother, the Laird and Clan Chief, had been lost at sea two months past when his ship had failed to return. Gabhran, as younger brother, had been free from the burden of managing the estates, had never concerned himself with thoughts of succession or progeny.

Gabhran had always assumed his brother would live to a ripe old age, have many children, and pass the title to his eldest son. ‘Twas how it should have happened, would have happened if Robert the Bruce had not summoned his brother to travel to elicit support for the Scots in their fight for freedom.

Instead, Gabhran was hit with a sense of his own mortality, and the importance of leaving heirs to carry on the family name. He and Ian had put their heads together and finally decided the most expedient way to secure an appropriate woman to bear his children was to enter into negotiations with a land-rich, cash-poor family, whose bloodline would honor his own. Since there were many of the gentry who were cash poor, it did not take long to secure a wife.

The idea had worked well, except Gabhran had not counted on how it would chafe him to marry out of necessity, rather than love. Gabhran pushed his distaste for the process aside. He knew it was not a very auspicious beginning to a marriage, and he suspected there was more to the story of why she was so old and unwed. Her father said she was over particular and he’d tired of waiting.

Truth be told, of all of the offers he’d considered, he had deliberately selected the more mature woman. He hoped she would recognize the situation for what it was, a business arrangement, and not become overly emotional or attached. He had been engaged once before, and it ended badly when he’d discovered his intended naked in the stables. He’d not cared overmuch, except as it was a betrayal of his pride.

He knew he was not the marrying type. He was dark inside, filled with rage that was best left on the battlefield. There was no shortage of battles to fight in Scotia, and for as long as he could
remember, he’d traveled from one to another. Now, with the death of his brother, he could no longer live so recklessly. He had a duty to uphold and he hated feeling bound by duty. 

****

Lissa returned to help Randi dress, and fix her hair. The gown was a pale green silk that flattered the green flecks in her hazel eyes. Lissa cinched a gold fabric girdle around her waist that pushed her breasts up and together, creating an impressive cleavage. A medieval push up bra, Randi thought wryly. Black slippers adorned her feet.

She’d had all day to think and had a plan of sorts, and she reviewed her strategy while
Lissa fussed with her hair. Marie had warned her on St. John’s Eve that Gabhran was close to being pulled into another time. Her cousin believed physical proximately would keep him grounded in the present, and the gris gris would keep the dark under control, for now.

Marie also told Randi that Gabhran was her destiny, and not to turn her back on him, and that the stakes for the world of magick were high. Unfortunately, Marie either wouldn’t or couldn’t tell her more. Randi had thought about her choices all that evening, and finally gave in to her desires and knocked on his door.

Their lovemaking had been better than any fantasy she’d ever had and when he’d showered her in his love, she believed that the Fates had indeed brought them together. He had been gentle, a thoughtful lover. He eased her through her first time, and held back until she’d asked him to make it harder and faster. Falling asleep in his arms had been heavenly. Waking with him this morning? Hell. The Fates must have been laughing their silly heads off, when they whisked her off with him.

It was all so confusing. Alysone’s claim of landing in an unknown reality had landed her in a mental hospital. Gabhran claimed the same thing had happened to him, that at different times, he’d gone to sleep, and awakened in a new reality. Marie had said it was
all true. Gabhran had more memories than Alysone, yet he’d told Randi that his memories were incomplete. The memories were often helped by notes he found soon after he’d been pulled to a new life. 

Although he’d written a letter, Randi wasn’t sure where it was. He hadn’t been wearing his
gris gris this morning, and she didn’t know if it had been pulled back with them or remained somewhere in the future. This Gabhran was clearly fully possessed by the darkness that her Gabhran had fought against. So she had to be the one to tell him the truth, and she knew full-well this conversation was not going to go well for her.

This Gabhran was determined that she
have children, but she didn’t know why. She also knew he was not willing to woo her, but would take what he considered his husbandly rights. Although this was not anywhere in her idea of acceptable behavior, Randi was nothing if not practical. If she denied him, he would take her, and none in this time would fault him. It was the reality of the day, she was now his property.

So here is where the great internal debate began. Being a child of her times and a police officer, she would consider it rape if he took he without her consent, and as such, unforgiveable. She was also sure if they stayed in her century, they would have made love many times this night. She knew she loved her Gabhran, and he loved her. She knew her Gabhran was somewhere inside this barbaric Scot, and it was not his fault that he didn’t remember her.

She was familiar with the 'rape is not romance' mentality of some rabid daytime television viewers, who considered sex after any type of initial reluctance as rape. Yes, she had initially resisted this version of Gabhran, but her resistance was as much a denial of her circumstances as of anything else.

Now that she’d had the day to sort through her thoughts and feelings, she had decided not to force this particular issue. If he wanted to have her, she would use every bit of her knowledge to make the event so memorable that this Gabhran would fall in love with her, too. Then maybe he would be more inclined to believe her story. Until he believed her, she knew
there was no hope of him helping her find a way out of the mess in which they found themselves.

“You look lovely, Miss Miranda,”
Lissa said, admiring her handiwork, and pulling Randi back from her reverie. Randi glanced in the mirror, then did a double take. Her hair was upswept into an intricate design on the back of her head, and a gold tendril curled down her neck. The scooped front of her dress displayed her cleavage to full advantage, and the gold girdle made her waist appear tiny. She felt deliciously feminine.