Claiming the Highlander (10 page)

Then she was half way out of the saddle. She screamed and then landed back on the horse. She peeled her eyes open. Oran stood at her side. His mouth was moving not that she heard a word. It was either because of the inner scream that bounced about her head and filled her ears, or her heart that beat a wild tattoo.

“Brenna.”

Completely unladylike, she threw herself into Oran’s arms. His firm hold kept her on her feet as the ground shook beneath her and up to her head. She held on longer than was proper. On sore, shaky legs, she scooted away from Thor.

“That animal planned to kill me. All because he didn’t like my stories.”

“Did ye complain aboot haerses?”

Brenna nodded.

“He probably felt insulted. My lady, come sit down an’ ha’e some water.”

“Aye that is much needed. Visions of my death might stop racing before my eyes.”

“’Tis is most improper, my lady. The earl willna be pleased wen he learns of this. Rest an’ then ye must return. I will escort ye an’ explain to him wat happened.”

“I do not see how he could be upset. I’m seeing to my duties.”

Oran twisted his mouth, not believing her.

“Do not make that face. I am.”

Taran brought her a stool and Neasan handed her a cup. “The water is fresh.”

She took it with both hands and raised it to her mouth. A few drops fell on to her
airisaidh
fell from her tremors. She glared over the cup’s rim at Thor. He stood there, munching on grass. His thick tails swung back and forth, swatting away the midges.

Slowly, she steadied. “Oran, please bring me the package.”

Oran hurried to do as she asked. He held out the plaids to her. She set the cup down and took them. The men gathered about her and stared down at her. “Living on these lands, being part of this clan, it is time you become part of it. I’ve brought each of you a plaid. It shall not be an easy transition, and you have had difficulties, but I believe each of you men shall find the place you all came searching for.” She handed out one to each man. “So please put away your old plaids. We are MacKenzies.”

As she was now…she took in their faces as they stared down at their Grants plaids. Some men nodded, seeming to accept their new lives. Except for Taran and Neasan—they held the plaids far from their bodies.

The men ambled away, leaving Oran beside her. “What if yer father’s plans gae how he wants?”

“I cannot allow that to happen. I wish to be with Caelen. I have always wished for it.”

“Yer father wanted that to happen an’ those letters an’ gifts helped, but that doesna matter na more.”

“True but putting aside my personal desires, my father fails to realize one possibility.”

“Which is?”

“If he succeeds in dissolving this marriage and gets this office, he will face a feud, a long one, which I fear he will lose. I cannot allow that.”

Chapter Five

The men lined up shoulder to shoulder. Caelen ignored their sullen faces. “Reamon, team up the men. I want to see what they are capable of.”

He craned his neck and looked up and down the line. He flicked a few fingers to pair up the men. Once completed, he looked to Caelen. “Each of you men will try to take your opponent down and pin him until I tell you to release.”

“Reamon, you shall pair off with me.” Caelen waved him forward. The lad stepped up. He was tall and lean with muscle. Caelen met his eyes. He was angry. That pleased Caelen. Reamon would learn.

“Do you plan to stare all day? Fights aren’t won this way.”

Reamon jumped at Caelen. A step to his left and Caelen shoved him aside. Reamon teetered, scraping his knuckles against the ground before righting himself.

“Nice recovery.”

With his head down, he charged at Caelen. Caelen could have chopped him on the back of his head. Instead, he braced and absorbed the blow of their bodies crashing together. Caelen tucked his arms under Reamon’s and flipped him on his back.

Without wasting time, he grabbed his right arm and rolled him onto his stomach. A twist of the arm in an odd angle and Reamon was too weak to break free.

A cheer came behind him. He looked over his shoulder. The stable boy threw a fist in the air and cheered. “Do it again, my lord.” Behind him, Neacal watched.

Caelen tossed aside Raemon’s arm and stood up. His tight muscles unwound. Damn, training felt good. He should have played with Reamon a bit more.

“Who can do better?” The men raised their brows but didn’t move. “You two here.” Caelen pointed to the center of the gathering. “Get to it.”

The two men met in the center. They planted their feet and then lunged at each other.

“A wager, my lord?”

Caelen took his attention off the men. The sun shined in the stable boy’s face. “What do you have to wager?”

His hand went to his side and gripped the handle as he said, “I ha’e a dirk. Nothin’ grand as yers but tis my prized possession.”

“If I lose, what do you want?”

“To be trained by ye, my lord. I wanna to fight. I dinna like the smell of horses.” He scrunched up his face.

Caelen killed his budding laughter. “Very well. Which are you for?”

“I pick Keddy.” Both of men were tangled up, struggling to slam the other down. With their long hair and equally matched bodies, Caelen couldn’t tell them apart. Truth was he hadn’t bothered with their names.

“Which is?” Caelen stressed each word.

“The ane on the right—now left. That means ye ha’e Jock. Gae him.” The stable boy mimicked the actions, holding his arms out, his hands clutching at nothing as he danced about on his toes.

Both men twisted about, getting free from their holds and struggling to get a tight lock on the other.

Jock swept Keddy’s legs from under him. He landed on the ground with Jock atop him. Caelen counted to a thirty and then demanded their release.

With his head hung low, the stable boy pulled out his dirk. He stroked it before he held out his simple instrument to Caelen. “Here, my lord. Back to the stables at least yer horse isna there.”

“Where is my horse?”

“Her ladyship took it out.”

Caelen’s throat ached from the need to scream. “Keddy, get this boy—”

“Coinneach.”

“Get him an egg and then tell him what to do.”

Coinneach jumped in the air. As Caelen stormed away, he heard the boy bragging that he would be a warrior.

A woman, even a wife, did not steal a man’s horse—especially her husband’s horse.

The woman looked innocent with her wide, pure, brown eyes that always made her look as if she could never plot such a thing. And her pale skin, that was as blemish free as a child’s, without anything marring it. Then her smile, that sweet smile that thrilled him when he saw it and made him want to smile in return.

Nay, he couldn’t believe she stole his horse. Caelen never imagined such an affront even more so since she couldn’t ride and feared his mount as if he were a dragon ready to consume her.

He knew where she went. He set out after her and stopped at the end of the bridge. He halted. He was a patient man. A patient man whose frustration grew as the clan folk stared at him.

Then he saw her coming down the tract with Oran leading his horse. Her neck wasn’t broken. Her limbs appeared to be fine. That meant he could punish her.

“Caelen.” She waved her hand. Oran shook his head. He halted before him and reached to help Brenna down.

“Nay.” Caelen waved him back. He gripped her waist and swung her to feet. “Your face is flush. You had an exciting day.”

“You are upset I rode your horse.” She crossed her arms.

“Upset, nay, I was upset when I learned you stole my horse. Thor is not to be ridden by anyone especially you.”

She blinked at him. “Thor. That is his name. Oh Caelen.” She threw her arms around him.

“You better be weeping for forgiveness.”

She slapped his chest playfully. She shook out her hand. He took it and massaged it to ease the sting. “We are perfect for each other. I decided to name him Thor myself.”

He halted. “You actually named my horse.”

“Why are you so upset? We picked the same name. It is as you said in your letters, our minds do match.”

“What letters?”

She rested her other hand over their clapped ones. “Thor was very cooperative. Oh Caelen, I think I am a horsewoman.”

“Oran,” he said in warning.

Oran cleared his throat and told him how Thor raced along and Brenna held on for her life as her screams bounced about, sending birds to take flight.

“Nevertheless, I didn’t fall off.”

“As of yet. Oran.” He took the leads and started across the bridge.

“What do you mean by that?” He gave no reply. “Caelen. Not speaking to me. I will have to wait and discover your plans. I don’t think I will like them.”

* * * *

Brenna yawned once again. She set aside the sewing and rose. She entered the kitchen. The fires were banked and the kitchen boy was nestled under his covers. Cook came over to her.

“My lady, may I help ye?”

“Where is the water for my bath?”

“His lordship said ye’ll na be needin’ it.”

Brenna patted her on the shoulder and went off to find her husband. Was not being able to bathe part of Caelen’s punishment for borrowing his horse?

She found him coming down the castle stairs. “Husband, why did you countermine my  order for my bath?” She linked her fingers together so she didn’t aim a stern finger at him.

He grasped her hand and pulled her close. With their bodies pressed from shoulder to pelvis, he slid his arm around her waist. “Tonight, you bathe with me.”

“In the loch?”

“Aye.”

“The water is chilled. I don’t do well in the cold. Winters are torture for me.”

“I shall keep you warm.” By the shoulders, he turned her about and led her out to the courtyard. His large, strong hands felt light on her. Beneath his touch, a fervid tingle spread through her. She was unaware of anything else but that.

“You are doing so now and that is enough.”

“There is no wind.” The air still held the day’s warmth. “The loch shall be smooth. Unless you cannot swim.”

“I can swim,” she confessed in a grumble.

“Too bad.” He leaned down and whispered, “Do you know how water feels against the naked body, swirling about and brushing against the skin?” He gripped her hips, yanking her pelvis against his. His manhood jutted against her stomach. “It’s another world where it shall be only us two. I wished you would hold onto me, wrapping your legs around my waist.”

She licked her lips. “That sounds very nice. This is not because I borrowed your horse.”

“Nay, I just want you with me. And if the water is chilled, I shall warm you.” Caelen put his nose to her own. “Are you afraid?”

“Nay, I can do anything you can do. Lead the way, husband. I am always up for an adventure.”

His chuckle sparked her own. She would gladly leap into the loch to hear that sound again. He pulled her close and tucked her to his side, cradling her against him. She wrapped an arm around his slim waist. When they reached the sea gate, she had her doubts. The water was inky black with the moonlight dancing on the surface.

“Still prepared to do anything?”

She kicked off her shoes and began to undress. It took longer for her to slip off her garments than Caelen. She lifted her
airisaidh
over her head. She stretched out her arm and let the garment fall at his feet.

His gaze roved over her from her pert breasts along her stomach and to the curls guarding her womanhood. She felt every move of his eyes as if he had caressed her with his hands. Her breast grew heavy. Her breath hitched. He met her eyes. They were open wide as if he couldn’t miss one glimpsed of her. He drifted to her as if drawn toward her. He leaned down and caught her lip between his teeth. He nipped on her bottom lip. He slipped the tip of his tongue in her mouth as if he planned to sample her bit by bit. A frisson of feathery tremors danced down her spine and weakened her legs. She leaned against his strong body.

He pulled away, and then planted a quick peck on her lips. With one arm, he lifted her up and climbed into the loch. She gasped as the water lapped at her breast. She stiffened and dug her fingers deeper into his skin.

“You feel nothing?” she asked.

“Aye, I felt something.” He waggled his brows. On another man, she would sneer but on Caelen, she melted. These were the moments she loved when he was playful with her. He revealed more of himself to Brenna than anyone ever saw. They saw the Viking Highlander, a dangerous man who inspired fear in brave men. For her, he was tender, caring, and lured her in, making her believe that nothing mattered but his love.

“I feel something, too. Do you think it’s an eel? Or a fish swimming back and forth against my thigh.”

“Most likely a caber.”

“That large. I should stay away from it.” She leaned back in his arms.

He lowered his head and snagged her hard nipple in his hot mouth. A chill swept down her spine as water lapped at her skin. The two sensations dizzied her. The cold no longer bothered her as every lap of his roughen tongue and the soft motion of the water destroyed awareness of anything but Caelen’s mouth.

Her eyes drifted shut. Thankfully, he held her tightly; otherwise, she would have sunken to the bottom of the loch. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She moaned.

“I can’t wait.” He gripped her buttocks and slid into her. There was only a moment of release before he slid out and pumped back in, raising the tension. Around them, the water stirred up, causing a swirl of waves about their wet, naked bodies. The night air did nothing to cool her. Her moans grew and echoed over the loch. His grunts barely passed his lips.

Every part of her coiled and as her legs began to shake, she knew what came next. Everything darkened and it was as if her very soul soared. From her fingertips and toes, she returned to her body.

When she could speak, she said, “I believe swimming in the loch is good for my health.”

“Cold is good for the skin,” he said.