The Highlander's Bride (20 page)

He had just returned from riding up and down the river bank looking for her. Fallon and Glynis had disappeared on separate searches, trying to appease their guilt. All they could remember was that Laurel had said something about needing men for a more important and immediate task than fixing the chapel.

Finn rode in. He had gone to see if Laurel was around or near the soldiers’ practice field. “No word.”

Conor grew cold with fear. If anything had happened to her, he would never recover. He needed her. He had just discovered what it was like to be truly and fully loved. Finally, he had someone that yearned for what he did from a marriage—a union built on support, desire and trust.

His muscles were tense with fear, his abdomen tight. He was going to find her, he resolved. And she was going to be unharmed. Once safe, he was never going to let her go out unprotected again. Never again would he experience the terror growing inside him.

He shouted at Neal, “Bring me my mount!” A few minutes later, Borrail was brought to him by his brother Clyde.

“It’s the only fresh mount, Conor. All the others are out or needing a rest.” He looked up, worried. “Is she going to be all right? Laurel is so nice and everyone loves her. If she were in trouble, someone would have helped her, wouldn’t they?”

“Aye, they would.” He tried to sound convincing.

“But what if those men that had hurt her came and snatched her? What if she’s in trouble?”

He listened to his younger brother echo all of his deepest fears and vowed again to never let her out of sight once she was found. If Douglass had dared to cross into his land, there would be hell to pay.

He looked at Finn. “I’m going to look in the woods again in case she was hunting and got lost. Go home to your wife.” Both Clyde and Finn watched their troubled laird ride off into the night.

As Finn approached his cottage, he noticed that there were several clansmen standing around. Someone opened the door and said something to one of the men and then went back in. Fear struck his heart. Had something happened to Aileen or the baby?

He started running and didn’t stop until he broke through the front door. Inside he saw his wife lying on the bed and Laurel cradling an infant in her plaid arisaid.

“Finn,” Laurel said, looking up. “Come meet your son.” He stood stunned, unable to move.

“Aileen?” His voice wavered with fear as he glanced at his motionless wife.

“She’s fine. She was wonderful, actually. She was strong and came through quite fit. She’s just tired. Your son is healthy and large.” She looked down and spoke softly at the infant in her arms. “You just wore your mother out. Now, we are going to be quiet and let her rest, aren’t we? Finn, would you like to hold him?”

Laurel outstretched her arms and helped the stunned commander adjust his hold to support the baby’s head. Tears were forming in his eyes.

From the bed, Aileen awoke. “Isn’t he beautiful?”

Finn walked over and sat next to his wife, cradling their son. “Aye, that he is, sweetheart.”

“And you should have seen Laurel. She stayed with me all day and delivered him. I think at times she was more frightened than I was.” She reached out for her friend’s hand. “Thank you. Thank you for coming and staying with me.”

It was then that Finn remembered Conor. He handed his son to his wife.

“Conor!” he yelled. The result was two disgruntled women and a wailing baby. He whirled, grabbed Laurel, and said aloud, “We must get you back to the keep immediately. Conor is going mad looking for you. We have searched the keep, the river, everywhere! He is riding in the woods to search for you even now.”

“Oh, no! I must leave. I wasn’t thinking. He must be furious.”

“No, but as soon as he sees you he will be,” Finn warned.

That immediately got Laurel’s attention. “Why?”

“A man’s fear will turn to anger once the fear’s cause is removed. I warn you, the larger the fear, the greater the anger,” Finn counseled.

“Thank you. I will leave right now.” She hugged her friend, kissed the baby, and left running into the night, not waiting for an escort.

Returning from his search, Conor spotted her running. He rode up beside her and picked her up in one swoop. He realized immediately that she was unharmed. The icy fear that had enveloped his heart dissolved quickly into an inferno of anger.

Oblivious to his dark fury, Laurel hugged him. “Conor! I’m so glad I found you! You won’t believe what happened!”

He didn’t return the embrace, and Laurel sat back to look at him. His expression was dark and stone-hard. “Be quiet, Laurel. Do not say one more word.”

Laurel cringed at the coldness in his voice. She decided to take her friend’s advice and not let his anger spark her own. She rode in silence, feeling the tension radiate from his body.

Conor rode hard, straight into the keep. He got off Borrail, lifted Laurel down and threw the reins to Neal, who ran out upon their return. Neal almost said something about how happy he was to see her safe, but one look at his laird and he changed his mind. Laird McTiernay was furious. Really furious.

Neal grabbed the reins and brought Borrail into the stables, yelling at one of the stable lads to take care of him. He then went to search for Fallon.

“Fallon, I’m worried about Lady Laurel.” Neal was pacing back and forth in the empty lower hall.

“He would never hurt her.” Fallon appeared calm, but his pulse was pounding, and he was apprehensive for his lady. The laird’s temper could be cold and leave a lasting impression.

“Not physically, no,” Neal returned. “But he could break her spirit. She is like a wild filly, a thing of beauty. Spirits like hers, once broken, never recover. What are we going to do?”

“We? Nothing. I will go and see if interference is required.”

“Hmmph. I’ll be going with you,” Neal responded.

“Me, too!” Clyde and the other stable hand yelled out, emerging from a hiding place behind some dismantled tables.

“I think maybe I should go as well, in case milady needs some female assistance,” added Glynis, rounding the timber partition that screened the hall from the service area.

Conor held her hand firmly and walked straight towards the Star Tower. He marched her brusquely up the stairs and made her follow him into his chamber. Once inside, he closed the door in a very controlled manner. That act alone told Laurel just how angry he was.

He went to stand by the hearth. Grabbing the mantel, he stared into the flames for several moments.

“You are to never leave the keep again unless I am with you,” he stated evenly without turning around.

Laurel had been standing there unsure of how to react or what to say.

“Don’t you want to know what happened?” she whispered.

“No, I don’t.”

“But Conor, if you would just let me explain, I think you would understand why it took so long for me to return.”

“I don’t want to hear it, Laurel,” his knuckles were now white against the mantel’s dark stone. “All I want to hear is how you will never leave without an escort again.”

“Never leave without an escort?” She couldn’t help it. Her temper took over. “So, I am a prisoner, then? You don’t want a wife, Conor, you want some pet to follow you around, come and go at your bidding, and pine away in your chambers until you return.”

“Don’t challenge me, Laurel. Not after what you put me through this evening!”

She moved closer. “What
you’ve
been through! How about what
I’ve
been through? Has it even occurred to you to be curious?”

His eyes narrowed. “Aye, and I thought it be best if I did not know. I cannot imagine anything you could say that wouldn’t make things worse right now.”

“Oh, and what were you thinking then? That I was off with a man?”

Until she said the words, the thought had never entered his head. But the idea of her with another man tore his soul wide open.

He moved so quickly Laurel never even saw it coming. Conor clamped a hand around her wrist and pulled her to him. His eyes glinted. “God help you if you were, Laurel. I would kill you both.”

She freed her arm and struggled for composure. Adrenaline pumped through her, causing her to tremble violently. “I don’t take well to threats, Conor.”

“And I don’t take well to hearing that my soon-to-be wife was with another man!”

“You are insufferable!” She backed up a couple of steps.

“So you’ve told me before!”

“I will not stay here with you. I will not! And no number of soldiers can keep me here! I will find a way to escape this keep. I promise you.”

“I will throw you in the dungeon if I must, but you will be staying!”

She turned around and tried to leave, but he was too fast. His hand thudded loudly against the door. He leaned forward. “Were you with another man, Laurel? Did you spend your day in another’s arms?” The soft deadly whisper in her ear gave her chills.

“Would it matter to you if I did?”

“Aye, it would matter. No one takes what is mine. Ever.”

“Then, calm yourself, laird. I was with no man today, only Aileen while she was birthing her babe.” Her contempt for him and his assumptions was unmistakable.

Conor felt the wind knocked out of him by her words. “The baby? Finn’s wife?” he asked, releasing the pressure on the door to keep it shut.

“Both fine,” came the brittle reply.

She barely had time to say the words before he took her face in his hands and began kissing her. All the anger that had begun as fear exploded as irrepressible primal need, resulting in a torrent of harsh, unyielding kisses.

He needed to know that she still wanted him. He needed her to know that he desired her so much it was akin to pain. That, regardless of arguments and words, fury and fear, he would always be hers and she would always be his.

Conor felt her initial resistance begin to melt. As Laurel began to respond to his touch, her fingers clenched around his shoulders. He groaned aloud. No matter what he did, no matter how angry she became, she still reacted with passion when he took her into his arms.

With the pressure on the door gone, it swung open and several people poured in ready to defend their lady if need be. But what they saw was a man loving his woman. Both were oblivious to their entry. Fallon shooed the group out onto the staircase and closed the door behind them.

Relief flooded their faces. Clyde was the only one who spoke. “I knew that Laurel could do it.” He grinned. “From now on, when Conor gets mad, we should send her to him to make him change his mind.”

Fallon gave the lad a loving shove and indicated for the others to return to their homes and beds. All was well here.

In the chamber, Conor cradled her face in his hands, and he drank her in. Her smile was soft and inviting, telling him in every way that she was his.

Conor touched her cheek so tenderly Laurel could barely find her breath. She tipped her head back and let her hair tumble over her shoulders. He closed his hand around the back of her head and brought her mouth to his. He kissed her slowly, taking his time, letting her feel the endless need and love inside him.

With that kiss, everything that had taken place between them was forgotten. Gone was the anger that had arisen between them. All that remained was his touch, his kiss, and the way he made her feel when she was in his arms. Laurel never wanted the feeling to disappear again. She shivered with unfamiliar need.

Sensing her reaction, Conor was suddenly swamped with desire. He closed in for a deeper kiss, silently urging her to comply.

“Conor…” His name was a soft moan causing his already mounting desire to rage out of control.

Her hands roamed his body, pulling his shirt free of his belt so that she could feel the skin underneath. She loved the feel of him. He was driving her wild. Some deep craving inside her was growing, and she didn’t know how to fulfill it.

Her nails grazed his back and sent him over the edge of reason. His need consumed him. Not daring to interrupt their kiss even temporarily, he started to undress her.

He unpinned his mother’s brooch, glowing inside that she had worn it for him. Next, he deftly removed her bliaut and began to move her chemise down her shoulders.

Laurel was floating. Conor was kissing her with such tenderness, such passion, that it took her breath away. She moaned his name over and over again. Only when he took her breast in his mouth did she realize that her gown had been completely removed, and her chemise was off her shoulders hanging from her waist.

Conor lifted Laurel in his arms and carried her to his bed. His lips never left hers as he crushed her into the soft bedding, his mouth hot and feverish on her skin. Instantly, she responded to the heavy, but delightful weight of him.

He resumed his exploration of her breasts, grazing each nipple, capturing and teasing it with his mouth until she cried out for more. She gasped, trembled, and closed her eyes. Conor thought he would go out of his mind with the craving he felt.

Laurel wanted to explore his body as he was exploring hers. She twined her fingers in his hair, reveling in the sensations Conor was evoking. As he lay on top of her, she could feel him grow tight and hard with arousal.

Something profound and mysterious inside Laurel swelled under the impact of Conor’s primitive gaze. The urge to touch him there was overwhelming.

His hands were caressing her inner thighs, driving her wild with need. Laurel moved restlessly beneath the caress wanting more, wanting to give more. Conor felt her untutored hands caressing his stomach, but when they moved under his kilt and stroked his manhood, he froze. Never had he imagined Laurel would try to give him pleasure in that way. He was undone.

He clutched her hand, preventing further torture. His eyes never left hers. Her hair spilled around her head like a golden halo, her turquoise eyes suddenly confused.

“Conor, have I done wrong?” She immediately pulled her hand away and began to retreat.

“No, love.” He kissed her brow, then the tip of her nose. “Nothing we do here is wrong. You can touch me anywhere you would like.” Then he clasped each of her hands in his, raised them above her head, and resumed his onslaught on her senses. He ravaged her mouth, restirring the flames of passion, then yanked impatiently at his clothing.