Mark of the Highlander (The MacLomain Series: Next Generation, Book 1) (19 page)

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve dreamt of this,” he murmured against her lips. “To have you here in my chamber, in my bed.”

A response trailed away on a gasp when he spread her legs further and pushed forward. The ache from taking him earlier bit back for but a second before pleasure washed over her. A long groan lodged in her throat when he wrapped one arm beneath her back and pulled her up, seating her even deeper. Somehow with one of his master maneuvers he managed to kneel back. Now she straddled him, her legs wrapped around his torso.

This gave him all the control.

Which it seemed this Scotsman liked when it came to intimacy.

Head tilted back, she wrapped her arms around his neck when he cupped her backside and began to thrust. Deep, full, she was consumed by the rolling sensations and building pressure between her thighs. Her heart started to hammer then catch as if even it was losing ground to the power he had over her.

In and out, over and over, he brought her ever closer until her body started to let go. All the little muscles that made up her abdomen started to spasm. Holding on became impossible. But she didn’t need to because he wrapped his arms around her and thrust one last time, his shudders matching hers, their bodies trembling endlessly.

Later, after their bodies had relaxed and she lay by his side with one arm and one leg draped over him, Colin said softly, “We’re taking lots of chances with you not on birth control.”

“I know,” she murmured. Of course he knew she’d stopped taking the pill. She told him everything. But what had been the point when she wasn’t sexually active? “And it should alarm me. Yet it doesn’t.”

His eyes met hers, emotion thickening his brogue. “Are ye wanting a wee bairn then, lass?”

A warm smile curling her lips, McKayla bent her elbow and propped up her head. “Honestly, I hadn’t given it much thought until now.” Their gazes held while she considered something she should have before sleeping with him. “And it was irresponsible not to.” She frowned. “How could I…we, if I’m not here and you’re not there.”

He stroked her hair, eyes guarded. “Will you be wanting to go back, McKayla?”

How could it be any other way? The idea of never going home frightened her. But then, as she continued to stare into his eyes, the idea of leaving him scared her even more. “Oh God,” she whispered.

Did she actually think that she’d love him any less in this form? Better yet, had she actually ever fallen out of love with Trevor to begin with? No, it was clear in the tightness of her chest when she looked at him, thought of him, that she loved this man with all her heart. More so, perhaps, because she now knew all he’d kept from her.

Saddened, but inherently eager to appease, Colin said, “‘Twill all work out as it should, as it was meant to be. Dinnae fear.”

Suddenly, that’s all she could do. “I can’t stay here,” she blurted. “I don’t belong. And I’ve got a book coming out,” she added as an afterthought.

Colin nodded. “Aye, you do. But remember, though the day may already be here that I cannae travel through time, it should always be an option for you.”

“Should it?” She shook her head. “Somehow I can’t see that. Not without you.”

“There are others who would travel with you. Ferchar often travels back from your time. You wouldn’t have to be alone.”

“How easily you assume this will all work out with Keir Hamilton. Have you forgotten you’ve got an evil time-travel gatekeeper blocking everything right now?” She sighed. “Yes, I know about Keir. William shared. When were you planning on telling me?”

“I wanted to give you one eve free from more concerns. Keir is but a bump in the road,” he replied and winked, sounding like his twenty-first century self. “We MacLomains are not held back long.”

“So you say.”

“So I know,” he assured, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. “Do you remember the first time I did this? Tucked your hair behind your ear?”

She smiled, resting her chin on his chest. “Hurricane Sandy. In the basement. Our last time together as a couple. Or should I say a slip up long after we’d split.”

His eyes grew distant as he rubbed a strand of her hair between his fingers. “It’d been longer then, windblown. I knew if I touched it…if I touched you, I wouldn’t be able to stop. So bloody beautiful.”

“You always made me feel that way.” She traced a small pattern on his chest. “Beautiful. Other men don’t do that. Not like you.”

“‘Tis a shame because you are.”

“Not like my cousins. Despite what you might think I’m pretty average in the looks department.”

A hint of amusement glinted in his eyes. “Now you’re just fishing for compliments.”

“Am not!” she said. “I’m too pixie-like. And these legs.” She shifted just enough to brush what was fast becoming his renewed arousal. “Like stubs so says Loch Nessa.”

He chuckled. “Like the monster? Clever.” He grabbed her beneath the knees and rolled her beneath him. “And these legs...are they not long enough to wrap around me? Because as far as I’m concerned, that’s the only requirement necessary.”

He held her leg up in the air, looking it over. “As to the pixie aspect, I dinnae ken. Aye, you’re a wee thing but it suits me well. “Tiny.” He thrust forward and she cried out. “Tight.” With a jerk of his hips, he had her against the headboard. “And all mine.”

She gasped sharply.

Eyes closed, he groaned deeply.

Ravenous, eager, their desire for one another consumed. Time fell away and McKayla was unable to do anything but feel…
want
. Their yearning and need was so great, so thorough. No words existed to describe the carnal sphere they entered. It wasn’t merely love but worship and something else, something that made one’s eyes water, heart flip, teeth clench, and jaw drop.

It was beyond bliss.

“Gods, I love you,” he whispered sharply when he pressed forward.

“Colin!” she cried when he brought her to another excruciatingly perfect orgasm.

Hours later, so spent she could barely move, McKayla stared at him while he slept. Lord, he was beautiful. And though she’d dozed on and off, the things they’d talked about weighed on her mind. Mostly how it seemed as if a very large part of her wanted to stay. Or so it seemed based on the amount of unprotected sex she’d been having. Even
after
discussing it!

Unlike Leslie, she’d always loved children. The idea of having them with Colin literally made her heart hurt. And would it be so bad raising them here, protected by a clan who would love them. True, the medicine in this time wasn’t nearly what it should be, but what if she had the ability to heal, wouldn’t that be something?

McKayla cuddled closer to him, more content than she’d been in a long time. Eyes drifting shut, she first thought the distant singing was merely the wind. Soon though, the sound found more clarity and she sat up. Drawn to the eerie tune she slipped into a dress and stepped into the hallway.

The castle was quiet. Only a few torches burned low leaving most of the long hall to shadows. She traveled to the end of the hallway then up a set of curved stairs. Yet the singing grew no louder. Still, she knew where to go. As she climbed she realized it was leading her up into one of the towers.

There was a lone room at the top and as she approached the doorway the singing stopped. Afraid to breathe, she put her back to the wall and sidled close enough that she could peer in unseen from the doorway.

A frail girl sat on a bench in the middle of the room rocking back and forth.

It was impossible to make out anything save her small frame and long streaming hair. Was she crying? When she inched forward the girl stopped rocking and her body went completely still.

“Are you all right?” McKayla asked.

Drizzle turned into a driving rain and pulled her attention to the window. Flat on the bottom and rounded on the top, she swore for a split second an old man stood there, his long white robes and hair blowing in the wind. But it must’ve been the mist from the rain because when she blinked there was nothing there.

Face still veiled by thick hair, the girl once more started to rock.

Concerned, McKayla took a step forward then froze when a fire flared to life on a hearth against the far wall. Trembling, the girl started to rock more adamantly. White knuckled, her slender hands grasped the bench and she began to moan.

Determined to go to her, McKayla took another step into the room.

This time the fire roared, angry, spitting sparks so high they sizzled across the ceiling. Petrified, she screamed, “Come, take my hand! We need to get out of here!”

But the girl didn’t listen. And no matter how scared, McKayla refused to leave her behind. Unwavering, she took another step then another.

Now the girl was shaking her head, back and forth, back and forth.

The fire curled over the ceiling and heated her face.

“Now!” McKayla yelled. “Come on!”

Still no acknowledgement from the girl.

This was crazy! What was wrong with her?

“McKayla. You owe me a debt.”

Ice water trickled through her veins when the voice rumbled out from the fire. A raspy, broken sound made up of crackling flames.

The girl froze. Her head turned in the direction of the fire.

McKayla shook her head and stared wide-eyed as the flames ever so slowly crawled over both the ceiling and floor toward her. Entranced, lulled, she heard the voice change, became more masculine. “Dinnae you know who I am?”

Again she shook her head, eager to understand, compelled to drift closer.

A face formed, once made of flame and eyes so dark they seemed to cut right through her. “‘Tis me, lass. It has always been me. Colin MacLeod.”

Confused yet caught up in whatever spell he weaved, McKayla reached out her hand. On cue, he did as well, one of fiery hotness.

A roar rose up so loud and screeching it rumbled the floor. Stumbling back, she looked at the girl...but not a girl at all. What came at her was ferocious, fierce and impossible to look away from. Terrified, McKayla screamed at the top of her lungs.

Eyes squeezed shut she screamed again and again.

Even after she fell to the floor and was scooped up by Colin,
her
Colin, she screamed.

“Nay, lass.” He sat and pulled her head to his chest. “You are well. ‘Twas just a nightmare.”

The screams turned to gasps and she blinked against the harsh but dull light coming in through their chamber windows. 

“What the bloody hell?” came a voice from the doorway. Bradon, sword in hand, stood both groggy yet alert. Right behind him were Malcolm and Ilisa, daggers in hand.

Ilisa sidled past the men and stood, legs splayed, sharp eyes scanning their chambers. “What happened?”

Still shaking uncontrollably, McKayla struggled to take a deep breath, more than mortified they were here to witness this.

Colin ran his hands over her back and arms, trying to comfort her. “Just a nightmare.”

Malcolm frowned. “Och.”

That’s all it took for her to pull herself away from the stark terror she’d felt moments before. Though wobbly, she pulled back from Colin but didn’t dare stand. Not quite yet. “It was more than that.
Had
to be.” When she looked at the others she wasn’t surprised to find Malcolm scowling, Bradon compassionate and Ilisa dubious but relenting.

“There was a girl in the tower,” McKayla started to explain. “She had long, dark hair, very slender.”

This got their attention.

So she stood, grateful for Colin’s steadying hand. McKayla grasped the material of the dress, more sure by the moment it had been no nightmare. “I put this dress on then walked up there when I heard singing. It was the girl. Possibly an old man in white robes. But most importantly there was a face in the fire.”

Bradon’s eyes grew very curious, though his expression was guarded. “A girl in a tower?”

“Yes, here, just down the hall.”

She didn’t miss the look Bradon and Colin exchanged.

Even Ilisa now wore a pensive frown.

“What scared you so?” Colin asked. “Was it the face in the fire?”

“No.” She shook her head, unable to look him in the eyes. Petrified by how drawn she’d been to the otherworldly visage. “Though that in itself was strange.”

“How so?” Malcolm asked, his eyes flickering to Loch Nessa, who drifted up beside him.

“It…
he
seemed to know me.” She wrapped her arms around her midsection. “Stranger than that, he called himself by the name of the hero I wrote about.” Her wary eyes met Colin’s. “Colin MacLeod.”

“‘Tis impossible,” Loch Nessa gasped.

Everyone looked her way. Malcolm took her hand, concerned. “What?”

Loch Nessa pulled her hand away and crossed her arms over her chest. “‘Twas nothing.”

“‘Twas clearly something,” Ilisa bit back.

McKayla was surprised at the animosity between the two. Loch Nessa, chin notched up a fraction repeated, “‘Twas nothing.”

But a shiver raked over the picturesque woman. One not unnoticed by Colin. “Out with it, lass. If there’s yet another threat, we need to know about it.”