Bound by Wish and Mistletoe (Highland Legends, Book 1.5) (10 page)

Her mark hadn’t been left there, but she’d only come upon their family by happenstance, not plan. She felt detached from it all, an outsider in their unfamiliar world.

“Happiness...’tis not possible for me, Robert.”

He touched a finger under her chin, lifting her face to meet his dark eyes. “Everythin’ is possible. When we least expect it and have given up all hope of findin’ what we want, suddenly it appears in the most unlikely of places.”

The words he spoke were amazing, and he made her want to believe. Her heart pounded with the excitement of what his idea promised...mixed with great fear of it not being true. She’d never had what Isobel had spoken of. And yet, in Robert’s arms, it seemed within her grasp.

A fragile feeling of hope flickered within her heart like a newborn flame. She only wished she knew how to protect that delicate flame from the fierce wind blowing.

Suddenly, an unmistakable wave of power rippled through her body. She and Robert both snapped their heads toward the source.

She gasped. The magnificent black-winged creature stood in the entrance of the great hall.

“Robert, do you see...that?” she whispered.

He bent his head down, whispering, “Aye, love. ’Tis quite the sight.”

“’Twas not my imagination,” she said.

“Nay. His name is Skorpius. And he
...
aids
...Lady Isobel from time to time,” Robert said.

“But he
...he has...”

“Aye. Wings. ’Tis a real-life angel.” Robert hesitated, his voice dropping lower, “
Brodie Castle possesses a great amount of magick that I need to properly explain when we have the time.”

Susanna couldn’t take her eyes off the breathtaking creature. A wild mane of black hair framed a beautiful face with eyes like faceted jewels that glittered between emerald and sapphire. Wings of darkest midnight arched high above his shoulders, their long-feathered tips nearly brushing the gray stone floor. His chest and arms were muscular and bare—his only attire: black leather pants and worn, black leather boots with their strings untied.

Isobel made her way toward Skorpius, waddling between the chairs and tables with Iain right by her side.

“Warrior-of-time turned holiday-errand-boy, at your service,” Skorpius announced.

“Oh, pipe down, Cupcake. You grumble more than an old woman crippled with arthritis,” Isobel said.

A growl reverberated so deeply from the creature, Susanna’s bones vibrated.

A green bundle hung from a red ribbon in Skorpius’ fist.

“What’s danglin’ from the ribbon in his hand?” Susanna asked a bit too loudly.

“It’s mistletoe,” Isobel replied.

Skorpius muttered, “
Enchanted
mistletoe, as none grows here. I stole this from a Victorian entryway in the dark of night, circa 1867.”

“Shush, Cupcake. I’m warning you.” Isobel glared at him. “Hang it from the hook above you.”

The warrior stood easily a foot taller than any Brodie clansman and with a single reach up, he caught the ribbon on a hook embedded into a thick wooden crossbeam over his head. “Keep calling me Cupcake and nothing will shush me,” he grumbled.

“What is
he
doin’ here?” Brigid shouted.

Skorpius fell silent at the sound of Brigid’s voice. His chest rose and fell more deeply as he stared at her, and the feeling of animosity from the creature vanished, affection emanating from him instead.

Susanna blinked hard at the change...
that she felt.

“What is this
mistletoe
for?” Robert asked.

“It’s from an ancient Norse legend. Those that stand under the mistletoe are to kiss. It brings the couple luck and good health. It’s a symbol of peace, of love. I’ve always made a wish during the kiss,” Isobel replied.

Robert suddenly grabbed Susanna’s hand and pulled her through the crowd. She tugged her hand back, trying to resist him, but in spite of her attempts to escape his iron grip, he dragged her toward the front door.

“Let me go, you brute!” Susanna growled.

Conversations fell silent as Susanna dug her heels into the wooden floor, the scrapes sounding shrill to her ears; she imagined shavings flying up in her wake. Despite her resistance, Robert’s unyielding hold and his supreme strength powered their momentum until he stopped and turned to face her, directly under the hung mistletoe.

He’d halted so abruptly, Susanna crashed into his chest. Before she could push away, his arms folded around her, banding hers to her sides.

He crushed an unexpected kiss onto her lips. She gasped and his tongue gained entrance, his sizzling heat and demanding possession overpowering her. On a sigh, she melted into his arms, taking everything Robert gave as delicious warmth spread through her body.

A sensation rippled through her, and a distant memory of a wish echoed and floated awa
y...
that God would have love embrace them
...

* * *

“Seeee...” Isobel grinned at the kissing couple while elbowing Skorpius. “Look what you did.”

Skorpius grunted.

“I’ve decided I
will
stop calling you Cupcake,” she declared. “Now, I’m calling you Cupid.”

His booming voice shifting into her head made her jump.
“Don’t even
think
about it, Runt.”

She laughed. “Oh, yes. Cupid. Delicious, sweet, pink-icing covered Cupcake has now been renamed Cupid.”

He growled to her right.

It was interrupted by Brigid’s scathing quip to her left. “That angel wouldn’t know love if it dropped as a two-thousand-pound boulder on his head.”

Isobel always
felt
Skorpius’s presence when he appeared within the castle, but she wondered if Brigid sensed his immutable power as her sister-in-law turned on her heel and crossed to the far side of the room, distancing herself as much as physically possible from the angel. Brigid fired a scorching glare toward Skorpius that would easily flay the skin off a mere mortal.

Isobel arched an eyebrow at him in question.

His reply was a non-negotiable, imperceptible shake of his head.

CHAPTER
NINE

Robert pulled away from Susanna once she’d given herself over to the moment completely. In his arms, under the assault of his kiss, she’d surrendered herself. No more fighting. No more doubts. When she abandoned all the troubling thoughts in her head and lost herself to passion, she became someone more than the woman who’d nearly trampled him in a snowfield trying to escape. She transformed into a woman living for something greater than her miserable past.

Any supposed treaty-bound right Dougal may have had to Susanna ceased to exist the moment she’d escaped her fate. With fierce determination, she’d run from that wretched life and landed straight within Robert’s shielding arms. He vowed to
bury
her past. From the depths of his once-jaded heart, he intended to be her present and future.

Dark blue eyes gazed up at him, her black pupils blown wide. He smiled. With a tight hold around her, since all of her slight weight had fallen against him, he pushed his arms outward, leaning her upright. “You’re glorious when you put up a fight, Susanna,” he whispered
.

She swallowed, dropping her gaze to his lips. “I doona know about that, Robert, but
...your kisses...rob me of the verra air I need to breathe.”

He smiled, tapping the tip of her nose with his finger. “I assure you, there’ll be plenty of breathin’ when we kiss. I doona want you passin’ out.”

Over her shoulder, he caught Iain staring at them with unveiled irritation. A discussion with his laird was long overdue. Not wanting to leave Susanna alone, he ushered her over to Isobel and Brigid, companions she seemed to like and that he could safely leave her with.

Susanna spoke up the moment they joined the two women. “Isobel, how did you and Iain meet?”

Isobel laughed and exchanged a glance with Brigid, who lifted her eyebrows. “It’s a very long and unbelievable story, one to be saved for when we have hours of time just the two of us.”

Brigid offered, “The crux of the matter is the Universe conspired against them
...or
for
them...to make both of their stubborn minds see what was important.”

Isobel laughed. “Well said, sister.”

Robert interjected, “Ladies, please excuse me. I must talk with Iain.” He lifted his hand from the small of Susanna’s back, but curled his fingers over his empty palm once he severed their connection, immediately missing direct contact with her.

Iain waited at the entrance of the dark hallway that led beyond the kitchen and larder toward his map room. The grim look on Iain’s face, and the other glares he’d sent through the course of the night, foretold that their encounter promised to be an unpleasant one. Robert faced his laird in a relaxed wide stance with his back to the great hall.

“What were you thinkin’?” Iain asked.

“She needed refuge,” he replied.

Iain crossed his arms over his chest, dropping his chin down, glaring at him from beneath his thick brows. “You’re not offerin’ the lass temporary refuge. You’ve claimed her.”

“Aye, I have,” Robert replied.

“Is she prepared for what that entails?” Iain asked.

Robert snorted. “She’s not yet realized that I’ve claimed her. The rest will come in time.”

“We doona have the luxury of time in our world. You know that, Robert. I’ve a clan to protect, and you’ve put them at great risk by bringin’ her here.”

“I’ll settle the matter with her soon,” Robert offered.

“Tonight. You’ll explain to a woman, whom Isobel tells me escaped from her castle and everythin’ she’s known, that she’s now a prisoner here. She needs to know she canna ever leave. You’ve sealed that fate for her.
Tonight.
”

A sound alerted them both, and Robert turned. Susanna stood a few feet away at the foot of the stairs with her hand over her mouth, her eyes widening. She turned and ran.

“Or now...” Iain’s words drifted off as Robert tore after her.

“Susanna!”

Robert saw the deep scowl on her face, but Susanna fled, lifting her skirt into her clenched fists as she charged up the stairs. He jumped onto the third one from the side, taking the stone steps two at a time to catch her.

By the time he hit the landing, she’d already sprinted down the entire hall and burst through her bedchamber door. Robert gave his legs everything they had and slid inside after her, crashing into the frame and the edge of the oak door right as she slammed it shut. The door sprung back and hit Susanna, throwing her backward onto the fur rug on the floor before it banged shut behind him.

“Susanna!” He rushed to pull her up to make certain she wasn’t injured.

She yanked her hand away from his outstretched one, remaining where she sat, the silk of her deep-ruby gown heaped around her. “Nay. I’ll not be kept prisoner here.”

He lowered down onto his knees before her. “’Tis not like you imagine, Susanna.”

“Oh? I’d be free to come and go as I pleased?” she asked.

“Without question,” he said.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Even if I chose to leave forever?”

He sighed. “Weel, not exactly. I hope in time, you’ll never want to leave.”

The delicate woman came alive at the suggestion, leaning forward on her knees like a deadly snake ready to strike. “Those were the kind of words spoken to Mama. When Broc
stole
her away. He threatened her.
Hurt her.
Things she endured for the love of her family—for the love of me.”

She pressed further forward, and Robert leaned back onto his heels for fear she’d actually bite.

“Doona promise me the
last
thing I would want in this world.”

Her nostrils flared and her chest heaved. His heart went out to her. She’d clearly lived a horrific life, and he only understood the tiny fragments she’d just shared in her fury.

He sighed and pressed forward before she toppled onto him. She backed off by inches until they both knelt upright, almost touching, staring deep into each other’s eyes. He brushed a stray curl away from her flushed cheek and buried his fingers into her soft hair, gazing down at her.

Hurt, fear, and hope all reflected back to him from eyes that grew glassy with tears. He inhaled slowly, calming the warrior within him longing to do battle for every wrong committed against the innocent, but very brave, woman before him. Instead, he focused on being the gentle man who desperately needed to soothe away the pain she held deep inside. “Susanna, know this, and listen to me carefully: no one will ever hurt you. I will do everythin’ within my power to protect you, even if it means dyin’ for you. You’ll stay here at
Brodie Castle as long as you seek my protection. I’d only hoped you’d never want to leave—” he swallowed hard “—because you seek my love.”

Those shimmering blue eyes blinked. She stared at him before lifting her trembling hands to his face. He closed his eyes, reveling in the warm touch of her fingertips across his jaw and up to his cheeks.

“Is that what you’re offerin’, Robert?” she asked, her voice but a whisper.

He opened his eyes, pinning her with a hard look. “I’ll offer you the world. If you want the sun and moon snatched down from the sky, I’ll hunt them down and bring them to you. The countless stars that glitter in the night shall become jewels adornin’ your hair. All the oceans wide will be yours to traverse, and each creature shall treat you as friend and master.

“As for me—” he dropped his lips to her forehead, grazing them across her soft skin “—my heart belongs to you, my soul is yours, and my body yearns to give you pleasure like you’ve never imagined.”

Susanna’s breath caught, and she lowered her face as a lovely blush spread across her high cheekbones. He tucked a finger under her chin, holding her gaze captive, if nothing else. The brave lass in his arms took a deep breath and straightened taller, pressing closer into his body. As she stared back at him, an inner strength manifested in her eyes, and she dropped her hands onto his waist and slid them behind him, just below his bandaged injury.

“I do want what you offer, Robert. But I...I’m afraid.”

“Do you trust that I won’t hurt you?” he asked, not moving a muscle for fear of startling the fragile creature who’d willingly embraced him.

“Aye. I do trust you,” she replied, those sapphire eyes holding
him
captive.

“Then doona be afraid. Fear and worry are your past now. All you’ll ever have will be safety and happiness. It shall become my life’s mission.”

Her lush lower lip trembled, and he was lost. He dropped his head, and captured those tempting lips, savoring her sweet taste, teasing her with slow sucks. He eased his head back to brush his lips across hers, before pressing back in, licking his tongue across the seam and sliding in deeper as she sighed.

Susanna gripped his lower back with her hands, pulling his hips toward hers as their kiss intensified, her tongue flicking into his mouth and tangling with his. A low moan came from her throat, and he groaned, wanting to take his time despite the urgent desire in his loins.

His hands drifted down from her hair, behind her ears, and skimmed down her graceful neck. He placed small kisses along her jaw and beneath it, his lips following the rapid pulse beneath her skin to her delicate collarbone. With deft fingers, he pulled apart the laces holding her gown in place and the material shifted, sliding down her shoulders.

Susanna inhaled deeply and pulled back, looking up at him as his hands slid her gown and chemise past her hips into a pool of material at her knees. She shivered, the cool air in the room teasing across her exposed skin, her breasts tightening, pink nipples hardening.

He stared at her in awe. The fire from the hearth danced shadows and light across her porcelain skin, over curves gifted generously by God. His gaze drifted up from her perfect form into trusting eyes. “Damn, Susanna. If you kill me tonight, I shall die the happiest man on Earth.”

A small smile graced her face, and she inhaled a shaky breath. “There shall be no dyin’. Not tonight.”

She fisted her hands beside her, opened and lifted them, but hesitated then let them fall by her sides again. Something held her back from taking what she wanted. He furrowed his brow, concerned that fear still stood in her way. He hoped her timidity stemmed from inexperience. No matter the reason, he intended to banish everything holding her back tonight.

As she knelt before him, bared and unafraid, his heart warmed. He wanted to touch her again, but he desperately needed skin on skin. He had an urgent need to heat her with a slow molten flame, igniting deep to burn forever.

He pulled her slippers from her feet and eased her down onto the fur rug, supporting her shoulders with his hand as he swept the remaining fabric away from her exquisite body. She lay on her back, naked, one knee bent, looking up at him with wonder in her eyes, her chest rising and falling.

“Lass, in all my life, I’ve never seen, nor will I ever see, such a breathtakin’ sight.”

Holding her gaze, he unfastened and discarded his boots. He released the pin holding his tartan, and the material fell loose before he tossed it aside. For a brief moment, he broke eye contact, yanking the linen shirt over his head—and he never wanted to lose sight of her again.

Her smile widened. “Robert, you’re a remarkable sight to behold yourself.” Her brow furrowed slightly as her gaze fell onto the thin strip of linen
bandaged around his lower ribs.

“I assure you, ’tis but a scratch.” Emboldened by her appreciation and worry, he lowered himself down beside her. Her surrender was a precious gift, one he intended to savor and cherish.

He feathered the backs of his fingertips over her skin starting at the base of her throat and tracing down to her navel. She responded to his teasing, closing her eyes and instinctively arching upward toward his slight touch.

He turned his hand over and stroked back up across her soft skin, skimming his fingers over her quivering belly, up the center of her chest, and along the side of her neck. “Look at me, Susanna.”

Her eyes fluttered open, darkened with lust. She lifted a hand and cupped his cheek. Elated, he leaned into the tender caress, turning his face and kissing her palm. To be touched and desired by a woman who wanted him for the man within, and no other reason, stuttered his heart. He dipped his head, capturing her lips, needing more of everything she generously offered. She kissed him back with renewed force, setting fire to his veins.