Highland Sparks (Clan Grant #5) (16 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

The arrow just missed his head. Erskine guffawed, holding his belly. “Och, girl, you are far worse than I would ever have thought. Didn’t I hear that you won the contest at the fair today?”

Erskine had reached his horse. He turned around with his dagger in his hand and started toward her. She closed her eyes in defeat. Naught mattered anymore. She was powerless again.

“That’s right, give up, wee lassie. Climb on the boat and make this easy. I have a buyer for you and he’s paying more than I would have ever guessed.” He continued toward her with a big grin across his face.

Duff screamed. Her eyes flew open to see blood spurting from a wound in Erskine’s arm, a knife protruding from his skin. A voice came over her shoulder. “Stay where you are, Erskine, or the next one goes between your eyes. Don’t move, or I’ll kill you.” Erskine froze, dropping his dagger to remove the knife and clutch his arm.

Logan strode to her side. She had never been happier to see anyone, and there was naught she would rather do than throw herself into his arms. But it wasn’t the moment.

She forced herself to return her focus to the business at hand. “Don’t you kill him, Ramsay! He’s mine. You promised not to interfere. Stay back.” Gwyneth’s words came out between sobs. She hadn’t even realized she was crying.

Logan stood next to her, pointing to Erskine. Micheil came up from behind him and ran over to Duff, arranging himself behind him with his dagger at his throat.

Logan whispered, “I promised not to kill him, I never promised not to interfere. He was about to hurt you. You were going to let him hurt you.”

“It doesn’t matter. I am a failure. I missed him four times.” She didn’t dare look at him or she would throw herself into his arms for sure. Her knees threatened to buckle and her shoulders hung in defeat.

“Get yourself set.” He stood off to the side, his eyes on Duff Erskine.

“What?”

“I’m not going to kill him. You are. Now get yourself set. Get another arrow nocked and set your aim. But don’t release it until I tell you. Do you remember how we practiced?”

Gwyneth couldn’t believe her ears. Logan was really going to help her kill him? She paused for a moment, took a deep breath, but then did as he instructed, getting ready to shoot Duff. Mayhap this was what she needed. With Logan here, the same as he had been in her training sessions, perhaps she would finally succeed in her goal.

“Where were you sending the lasses, Erskine?” Logan bellowed at him.

Erskine laughed. “I’ll never tell you.”

Micheil moved his dagger to the side just a bit and pierced his skin. Blood ran down his neck staining his fine neckcloth.

“Italy. The same place your woman is going when I finish with the three of you. They pay good money for female slaves there. Gwyneth will make a great one.”

Micheil pulled his hold a little tighter. “Doesn’t seem like you’re in any position to make threats.”

Logan turned to her. “Are you ready, lass?”

“I can’t, Logan,” she whispered. “I’m not strong enough.” Her arms shook as she took aim again.

“Aye, you are.” Logan walked over behind her and placed his arm under hers, lending support to her arm, then placed his leg behind her quivering one. “Where do you want to shoot him? Your choice.”

She couldn’t believe it, but with Logan behind her, supporting her body with his own, her tremors stopped. His strength seemed to flow into her blood, giving her a newfound drive to complete her goal. Gwyneth aimed for Duff’s heart, but at the last minute, Rab popped into her mind. She lowered her arrow and let it go. It landed exactly where she had aimed it, at the juncture of his thighs.

Erskine screamed in pain, falling to the ground. Logan whispered in her ear. “Ouch. But well done.”

Micheil kicked the fallen man and walked back toward the riverbank opposite them. “I’m going for the sheriff,” he yelled over his shoulder as he broke into a run back toward town.

“Rab, all I could picture was Rab telling me not to murder him.” She glanced at Logan, trying to explain why she had made this choice, expecting to see derision in his gaze. She didn’t. She had done what she set out to do. She hadn’t killed him, but he would never have relations again, she was quite sure of that. Smiling at Logan, she whispered, “My thanks.” She dropped her bow and leaned into him just as raindrops started to fall.

A loud screech came from Erskine and they swiveled their heads in time to see him headed straight for them, hobbling, a knife in his hand intended for one of them.

Gwyneth grabbed her dagger and flung it at him. He dropped not twenty feet away from them. The sky opened up and a hard rainfall pelted them as they moved over to see if he still lived.

Gwyneth saw her dagger in his thigh. Why had the scum fallen with just a dagger in his thigh? It wasn’t a death blow. Her eyes moved up to his face to see his sightless eyes, but she stopped. Another dagger sat in his neck. She scanned the area for Micheil, but he was too far away. It couldn’t have been Micheil’s dagger. She and Logan had thrown at the same time.

Her enemy lay flat on his back with his arms spread wide, an arrow protruding from his male parts, a wound in his arm and her new dagger in his thigh, rain carrying his blood in rivers from his body. Or was it her new dagger in his neck? She wiped the water from her face to clear her vision, but she still couldn’t detect which knife was hers. Glancing at the blood pooling under him, she reached for the two daggers. She pulled both of them out, holding them up in the rain to compare them.

“They’re the same.” She turned them over to be sure, but then glanced at Logan. “Your dagger is the same as mine.”

“Aye, lass. I bought myself a matching one.” He grinned at her.

“Then which one was mine? Where did you throw yours?”

Logan leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I couldn’t be sure. Does it matter?”

“But whose dagger killed him?”

“We’ll never know. It was raining and I couldn’t tell for sure where mine landed.” He shrugged his shoulders. “It was dark. He’s dead, Gwyneth, and no matter what, you had a hand in it.”

Satisfied with Logan’s answer, she swiped her dagger and put it away, handing the other to Logan. Glancing at the ground one more time, she tried to absorb the memory of him lying there dead.

Duff Erskine was dead. She may have killed him.

Or maybe not.

***

Running over to the cart by the river, Gwyneth untied the sacks and did her best to awaken the women while Logan checked on the men she’d hit with her bolts. Two of them had disappeared already, only one remained moaning on the ground. All the women were breathing, but they were still under the spell of whatever potion Erskine’s men had fed them. Gwyneth covered them from the rain as best she could while Logan loaded the remaining man inside before he turned the packhorses around, leading them back down the river. As soon as they neared the town, they found the local sheriff shouting at one of his assistants on the ground, his hands tied behind his back.

The sheriff strode right over to Logan. “Good catch, Ramsay. Thanks for the alert before searching the riverbank. I suspected the fool about a moon ago, but catching him in the act is even better. I just sent your brother back to the castle to get more help, then he is going to Dundonald to inform him of the situation.”

Good, she wouldn’t have to run to Hamilton. Dundonald kept him abreast of everything. As soon as the sheriff had the situation under control, Logan walked over to put his arm around her waist and they headed back toward the Kirk. They passed a copse of trees in a deserted part of town, and Logan kissed her cheek. “Wait here a moment, lass.” She watched as he strode over into the forest to check something while the rain and wind continued to batter them. Did he have in mind what she did?

“Ramsay!”

He turned around just in time to catch her as she launched herself into his arms. She almost felled him, but he managed to stay upright as she wrapped her legs around his waist. The rain continued to drench them and his feet slipped on the wet ground.

“I want you now, Logan.” She kissed him and wrapped her arms around his neck, darting her tongue in to tease his.

He groaned, returning the kiss, tasting her sweetness as he kissed her lips, her neck and nuzzled her ear.

She giggled, then tipped her head back and whooped at the night sky. “Make love to me, Logan Ramsay. Right now, right here.”

Logan already had an erection begging to be set free, but he had to ask. “Right here, Gwyneth. In the mud?” He set her down for a moment. “I’m not strong enough to hold you without some support behind you. Somehow, I don’t think you really mean for us to roll in the mud. I am happy to oblige you—” he took her hand and held it over his cock so she could feel his hardness, “—but I don’t want to be halfway through and have to stop because it isn’t working for you.”

“Nay, let’s not lay in the mud, but there has to be a way.”

Logan grabbed her hand and led her into the trees, searching out a dry area. They found themselves underneath a group of pine trees that were so tall and dense they blocked out almost all the rain. He grinned. “This is exactly what I was hoping for, a little privacy out of the rain.” He turned to her and tugged her close, “Does this suit you, princess? I hope so, because I can’t go much longer without you in my arms again. You have been waving your tight wee bum at me for two days now, and the torture of not being able to touch you has made me daft.”

Gwyneth laughed under the canopy of the pines, leaning against Logan as she stared up through the branches, transfixed by the beauty of the place. “Logan, ‘tis amazing here.” She tossed her bow down and removed her tunic before reaching for his brooch and dropping his plaid to the ground.

Logan stared at her breasts and said, “Unbind those beautiful mounds.”

She giggled as he helped her free them and he cupped both in his hands, murmuring, “So lovely, Gwyneth.”

He kissed her again, claiming her mouth with his, teasing her sweet lips until they parted. He growled when her tongue teased his and he deepened the kiss, so pleased to feel that her desire and her urgency were as strong his. She clung to him, pressing her breasts into his hard chest, tugging at his tunic until he helped her remove it and sighed with pleasure when his skin finally met hers.

Logan dipped his head to her breast and licked her nipple until it peaked. When he felt her fingers on his nipples, he suckled hers in return until she cried and ran her nails across his sensitive tips. He tugged her other nipple into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth. Needing no greater invitation, she reached down and took his hardness into her hand, wrapping her fingers around him and teasing him with a slow movement back and forth, up and down.

Before he unmanned himself and shot into her hand, he pulled away and threw his plaid down on the mostly dry ground. He settled her on the plaid and lay down on top of her, resting his weight on his elbows and placing his hand over her head. They both stilled instantly.

“Hellfire,” he shouted.

“Logan? This isn’t going to work.”

“I know, I know. God’s teeth, why didn’t I think of the blasted pine needles? ‘Tis autumn and they are dry and sharp.” He stood up and looked around, driven by the sheer need of burying himself inside her, brushing the needles off her leggings. Thank goodness, her bare bum hadn’t been on those needles.

“Do you trust me?”

“Aye. Please, we need to finish this.”

He tugged her behind him, leading the way to a large set of rocks. After arranging his plaid on the flat part of the rocks, he tugged her leggings off and placed them on top of it.

Her puzzled expression told him he needed to explain, so he told her what he wanted her to do. “Kneel down on the cloth.” He took her hand and helped her into the position. “Trust me. If you don’t like it, I promise to stop when you tell me.”

He climbed behind her and tucked her into him, running his hands all down the front of her body, teasing her nipples, then skimming one hand down her belly and thigh until he found her curls. He groaned when he found her wetness, then plunged a finger inside her as she spread her legs to give him better access.

“Logan, I want you now, but I don’t know what to do. Please.”

He nibbled her neck and kissed her ear, whispering what he wanted to do, leaning her forward and showing her how to grab onto the rock for leverage. Running his hand down her bum, he caressed her soft skin before trailing his way back to her mound, parting her folds to help guide him in. “Lass, you are heavenly. I have waited to run my hands across your sweet bottom. Naught gives me more pleasure than calling you mine. You accept that?”

“Aye, just finish this,” she moaned.

“When you agree to be mine, I’ll finish this. I love you, Gwyneth. You will be my wife?”

“Aye. I love you, Logan Ramsay. Saints above, please.”

Logan grinned. How he loved this woman, the only one who had ever been able to distract him from his purpose. He ran his cock back and forth over her entrance, teasing her until she begged him for more. “Logan, please. I need you in me now.” He thrust inside her and she sighed at the invasion, then he pulled out slowly, just to tease her. Moaning, she spread wider to allow him better access, and he thrust in until he was completely buried inside her.