Highlander's Redemption: The Sinclair Brothers Trilogy, Book Two (18 page)

He moved his kiss
from her mouth to her neck, where he nibbled and teased her sensitive skin. Her
breath was coming more quickly now, and her body was taking over. She wasn’t
thinking anymore, only feeling and responding. She let her fingers sink into
his shoulders, twisting in the material of his shirt.

Suddenly impatient
to feel more of his skin, she tugged up on his shirt. He helped her pull the
shirt the rest of the way over his head, and she was rewarded with the sight of
every chiseled plane and honed line of his muscular torso.

Mesmerized by the
sight of his perfect physique, she let her fingers gently trail over his
shoulders and down his broad chest, then lower still to his trim yet muscular
waist. She dragged a fingernail along the top of his kilt where the fabric met his
skin. He shuddered under her touch, letting her explore him.

But soon, he, too,
grew impatient, for he growled lowly. Then his hands flew to the ties on her
chemise. In a matter of seconds the ties were loose, and the fabric was
slipping from her shoulders. It whispered past her hips, then joined her dress
at her feet.

For a moment, she
felt exposed standing naked before him, but then she noticed the way he was
staring at her. His eyes devoured her like she was the most delicious thing he
had ever seen. She watched him as his gaze moved over her naked body, his eyes
lingering on her breasts, her waist, the flair of her hips, and her
legs—especially where they met.

Garrick jerked
slightly as if waking from a dream. He reached his hands toward her slowly, as
if to make sure that she was real. When he touched her, it was feather-soft,
and she shivered at the contact. He skimmed his hands over her exposed skin,
seeming to try to memorize every contour of her body just by touch. Finally, he
seemed to be assured that she wasn’t going anywhere. He let his hands drop from
her, but only to unfasten the belt holding his pleated kilt up.

In one smooth
motion, he undid his belt and caught the material of his kilt even as it began
to unpleat and slide down his hips. She couldn’t help staring at the sight that
was revealed to her. The hard lines of his torso continued down his hips and
muscular legs. But what really drew her attention was his large manhood
standing up from his body.

She felt her lips
part slightly of their own volition. She had felt him with her hand before, and
had begun to get to know the smooth hardness of his manhood, but seeing it was
different. She hadn’t realized it was so—big. She knew the basics of what would
happen next, but she was suddenly unsure if it would work.

He spread his
plaid out on the floor of the cave and brought her down to sit next to him on
it. “Don’t worry, lass,” he said, seeming to read her mind. “It can be even
better that it was back by the creek.”

“Better?” she
breathed, the memory of the aching buildup and soaring release causing more
heat to flood her body.

“Aye,” he said
huskily.

He pulled her down
further on the plaid so that she lay on her back with him leaning on one elbow
over her. He bent his head toward her, but instead of kissing her, he captured
one of her nipples in his mouth. She gasped and immediately arched, all traces
of doubt fleeing as another wave of sensation crashed over her. One of his
hands trailed down between her legs, and as he had before, he brushed across
her most sensitive place with his fingertips. She instinctively opened her legs
slightly, giving him more access.

“That’s it, lass,”
he whispered against her breast.

Just as he had
before, he teased the damp curls and folds, then found that electric spot that
shot instant pleasure through her. The aching was building inside her, but she longed
for more contact, more sensation.

As if knowing
exactly what she wanted even if she couldn’t have articulated it, he let one of
his fingers slip inside her. She gasped and moaned at the added sensation. She
suddenly felt a deeper ache, one that would not be relieved by the feathery
touches he had given her earlier.

He withdrew his
finger slowly, and the needy emptiness grew, but then he slid back in, and the
motion sent her even closer to the paradise she now knew waited ahead. He set an
achingly slow pace, sliding his finger in and out as he swirled his tongue
around her nipple. She was sure that at any moment she would come completely
undone.

Suddenly he cursed
and removed both his hand and his mouth from her body. Her eyes flew open in
surprise, and she realized that he was positioning himself between her legs. His
jaw was clenched and his face was taut with pained concentration, and it dawned
on her that even though she had barely touched him, he was wound tight with
desire.

“I have to have
you. Now,” he breathed. His manhood nudged at her entrance, and she realized
that the moment had finally come. She would no longer be a maiden. She would be
a woman, and one who had chosen the most enthralling man she had ever known as
her lover.

He eased into her
slowly, and at first, the sensation was not painful, just foreign. But as he
continued to move into her, the tightness increased. He was so large that she
felt stretched to her limit. The pleasure slipped toward discomfort, then he
pushed all the way in, and pain stabbed through her. She cried out, and he
cursed but held himself inside her.

He was all the way
on top of her now, but he had his weight propped on one elbow so that he wasn’t
crushing her. With his free hand, he began circling one of her nipples with the
pad of his thumb. The pain still tore through her, but it began mixing with
some of the old pleasure. He withdrew partway from her, which eased the pain,
but then he sank in again. When he was all the way inside, the tightness and
pain pinched again, but this time slightly less that before.

He kept up this
slow rhythm, and each time he pushed into her, the pain mingled with her
building pleasure. When she was panting and moaning once more in anticipation
of the flood of pleasure ahead, he let the hand on her breast drop to grip one
of her thighs, pushing her bent leg up higher. He sank even deeper into her
now, and his thrusts increased in pace.

She hitched even
higher, sensation tearing through her. She kept climbing and climbing, reaching
for release. He pulled back and sank inside her again, and it was the final
straw. She felt herself shattering into a thousand shards of pure pleasure. Molten
heat suffused her, and she cried out in ecstasy. With one more hard thrust, a
groan tore from him as he joined her in release. He held himself inside of her,
both of them gasping for breath and pulsing as their hearts pounded.

As she drifted
back down to earth, he withdrew from her.

“Did I hurt you,
lass?” he said, brushing the backs of his fingers against her cheek.

“Not by the end,”
she said breathily. A deep contentedness was seeping into her limbs. She felt
like she was made of warm honey.

“It is only like
that the first time. After that, it is all the pleasure with none of the pain,”
he said.

She quirked a
smile. “Really? I suppose I’ll have to experience it to believe it.”

“That can be
arranged,” he said with a devilish lift of one eyebrow. She longed to stare at
his ruggedly handsome face, drink in the sight of his perfectly honed body, but
suddenly her eyelids felt heavy.

He pulled her into
his arms, settling her head on his chest. “Rest now, lass.” The last thing she
remembered was his calloused fingertips stroking her hair and bare shoulder.

When Jossalyn
woke, she was disoriented for a moment. The cave’s dimness prevented her from
knowing how long she had slept or what time it was. But Garrick’s warm, strong
arms were still around her, which made her feel at ease. He was absently
playing with a strand of her golden hair. They were both still naked, their
legs intertwined, though he had pulled up part of his plaid to cover them.

“How long did I
sleep?” she said, lazily stretching.

“A few hours.”

She sat bolt
upright. “A few hours? Don’t we have to keep moving?”

He looked up at
her from his position on his back. “Aye, but I didn’t want to wake you. You
seemed so content.”

She smiled softly
at his words, feeling warmed by the memories of why she felt so languid and
pleased. “I appreciate that, but I’m sure Burke has begun to worry.”

He waved a hand
dismissively, but slowly sat up next to her. “Aye, you’re probably right.” Even
still, he didn’t make any moves to get up. Instead, he let his eyes roam over
her naked body.

She forced herself
to rise despite the fact that she longed to wrap herself around him again and
sleep for another few days. She went to the pile of her clothes a few feet
away, but when she bent to pick up her chemise, she felt a twinge of pain
between her legs. She must have winced, for Garrick stiffened.

“What is it,
lass?” he said, his voice filled with concern.

“Oh, I’m just a
little sore,” she said lightly. The pain wasn’t great, but she could certainly
tell that she was no longer a maiden.

Suddenly he was
standing in front of her, his hands cradling her cheeks. “I swear I’ll never
hurt you again,” he said quietly, his eyes searing into her.

She felt her eyes
widen slightly at the seriousness in his tone. “Thank you,” she replied,
feeling a surge of emotion at his protectiveness. He let his hands drop, but he
watched her closely for any other signs of pain as she pulled the chemise over her
head, followed by her dress. He must have been satisfied, for after helping her
with the laces on her dress, he turned to re-pleat his kilt and belt it around
his hips, then donned his shirt, stuffing the ends into his kilt.

He went out of the
cave in front of her, holding back the branches that blocked the entrance for
her. The sun slanted toward afternoon, but was still strong and bright. She had
to shield her eyes after the dimness of the cave. A warm breeze played with the
trees, and the air was full of the smells of the forest. The combination of the
bright sun, the warm air, and the smell of pine and soil mixed headily, and she
felt intoxicated by life.

She glanced back
one more time at the dim interior of the cave. She was truly reborn now. She
was her own woman, no longer a girl under her brother’s control. She had now
tasted freedom, and the joy of shared pleasure. There was no going back, and
she was glad.

Garrick guided her
to a small stream nearby. They both cupped their hands and splashed water on
their faces, then drank from the cool, fresh stream. She took a moment to
re-plait her hair, though Garrick frowned crossly as she wrangled the golden
waves into a braid. She only smiled back at him, relishing his enjoyment of her
appearance.

Once they were
refreshed and tidied up, they made their way back toward where they had left
the horses. They found Burke sitting on a rock, whittling a stick idly. When he
saw them approach, he raised an eyebrow at both of them. Jossalyn doubted very
much that Burke missed the relaxed air about them, or the rosiness she could
feel in her cheeks, but she didn’t mind. She wasn’t going to hide her
happiness.

“All sorted out,
then?” Burke said.

“Aye,” Garrick
said simply. He walked past Burke to his waiting horse.

As Jossalyn
brushed past Burke, he said in a low but merry voice just for her, “No leaves
in your hair this time.”

She felt her
cheeks heat at his playful teasing, but she enjoyed Burke’s conspiratorial tone
and the fact that he seemed happy for them. “Not this time,” she replied, not
denying what Burke could clearly infer about what she and Garrick had been up
to.

“We had better get
moving,” Garrick said over his shoulder to them. “Might as well use the rest of
the daylight to get as far north as possible.”

Burke nodded and
tossed his stick aside. As he walked to his horse, he casually swiped a foot
over the words that Garrick had scrawled in the dirt of the forest floor. “Clever,”
he said as he passed Garrick. The two exchanged quirked smiles, then mounted.

Jossalyn
approached Garrick and Fletch and extended her hand up to him, ready to be
pulled atop his giant warhorse once again. But when he hoisted her up, instead
of straddling the horse, he arranged her so that she was sitting sidesaddle. She
suddenly had a vision of bouncing against the saddle on her now very sensitive
privates, and felt a flood of relief at his thoughtfulness. She shot him a
quick look, silently thanking him for saving her the discomfort. He didn’t say
anything, but his eyes softened slightly, and she knew he understood her.

With a nudge of
his legs, they were riding north once more.

They traveled
northward together for four more days. Without realizing it, the three of them
slipped into a comfortable routine, or as much of a routine as was possible
given the rough conditions and their ever-shifting sleep and travel schedule. Whether
they were traveling day or night, though, Jossalyn and Garrick stayed pressed
together atop Fletch’s back, occasionally whispering something to each other,
which often resulted in a blush from Jossalyn.

When they would
stop, they would eat a simple meal, usually something that either Burke or
Garrick managed to catch, or that Jossalyn foraged. Her knowledge of plants and
herbs was proving quite useful, though the farther north they traveled, the
more she saw flora that she didn’t recognize. Frequently, Garrick or Burke was
able to fill in the gaps in her knowledge, since they had spent so much time
working in the field on various missions.

After a meal, they
would catch whatever sleep they could, regardless of the time of day. Jossalyn
noticed, though, that after that first day of traveling north following the
scene in the glen, they began to sleep more during the night and travel during
the day.

Garrick and Burke
were both visibly more relaxed now. She guessed that they had determined that
they had put enough distance between themselves and her brother’s men, or
perhaps it was just that they were more familiar with the terrain farther
north.

Either way, she
was grateful not to have to spend so many of her nights in the saddle. Though
she and Garrick slept apart out of a sense of propriety in Burke’s presence, he
always gave her an extra length of his plaid to use as a pillow or to wrap around
herself. Being enveloped in his warm scent was almost as good as sleeping in
his arms. Almost.

Despite the fact
that there was little time for anything besides eating, sleeping, and ever-more
riding, Jossalyn and Garrick did manage to slip away from Burke one more time. Jossalyn
had decided to bathe and wash her dress and chemise in a nearby loch. The sun
was warm and the air was still, and her skin had begun to itch after so many
days of riding. She still had her spare chemise and dress stuffed into the
bottom of her satchel, and she decided to indulge herself in a clean body and
fresh clothes.

When she informed
the two men that she would be at the nearby loch for a little while and
requested privacy, Garrick had grabbed his bow and quiver and said he was going
hunting. Burke didn’t comment, only raised an eyebrow at his cousin, which was met
with a scowl from Garrick.

Jossalyn puzzled
on this as she strolled toward the loch, but let it slip from her mind as her
clothes slid from her body at the shoreline. She was sore, though not from Garrick
and her lovemaking a few days previous. Instead, it was the long hours on
horseback that had her muscles aching and her bottom sore. She wasn’t used to
such grueling conditions, and even with Garrick to lean against, she found it
exhausting. Neither one of the men seemed to be affected at all, she thought
with annoyance. They were clearly used to a rougher life.

She waded into the
loch, its waters surprisingly cool despite the warm summer day. She
half-sighed, half-shivered as she eased herself deeper one step at a time. When
the enjoyable torture was too much, she dunked her head beneath the water’s
still surface in one movement, feeling the refreshing rush envelop her. She
held her breath underwater for a moment, scrubbing her fingers through her hair
and letting the cool silence seep into her. When she broke the surface again a
moment later and blinked open her eyes, she gasped at the sight before her.

Garrick stood on
the shoreline, half-naked and in the process of undressing further. His eyes
were locked on her, and even from the distance of more than a dozen yards, she
could feel the heat radiating from his stare.

When he was fully
naked, he stalked slowly toward the water. She drank in the sight of his
perfect body, all hard lines and rippling muscles. Her eyes lingered on one
particularly hard part of his body, which plainly spoke of his desire and his
intentions for her. Suddenly the water felt too cold against her heated skin,
and she shivered in anticipation as he waded toward her.

Just before he
reached her, he too dunked his head underwater for a moment. When he reemerged,
the water sluiced down from his dark hair and over the chiseled planes of his
chest and torso. Without further ado, he closed the distance between them and
took her in his arms.

“I can’t wait any
longer, lass. I have to have you,” he whispered in her ear. His voice was tight
with desire, his manhood pressing into her stomach.

In response, she
wrapped her arms around his neck and stretched up to press her lips to his. He
made a low growling noise in his throat and slipped his tongue inside her
mouth. His hands cupped her breasts, then slid below the waterline to grip her
bottom, pressing his hips into hers. Then his hands slid lower to the backs of
her legs, and suddenly he was lifting her up, one hand behind each knee, to
wrap her legs around his hips.

She could feel the
head of his manhood pressing against her entrance. The cool water mixed with
the contact of his heated skin. She could already feel herself pulsing, aching
for him to fill her. She arched her back, pushing her taut breasts against his
chest and giving him more access to enter her.

It was all the
invitation he needed. He thrust fully inside her, causing her to gasp and moan
at the tight sensation. He ground their hips together in agonizingly slow
circles. It was all she could do to hold on to his neck as he brought her
closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. Even as her body shuddered and
spasmed in release, she felt his muscles tense and his hips jerked hard as he
joined her.

They floated for a
few more minutes, sharing a tender kiss that was still edged with passion
despite the fact that they had just found pleasure together. Then they slowly
made their way to the shoreline, where Garrick dried both of them with his
plaid and she donned a fresh chemise and dress.

“I had better go
find something to shoot, else Burke spreads word that I’m a sorry shot at
hunting,” he said with a mischievous smile.

She watched him
go, his bow and quiver slung casually over his broad shoulders, and his red
kilt flashing through the trees. She lingered at the loch, scrubbing her old
dress and chemise as best as she could, then laying them out on a rock in the
sun to dry. By the time she returned to their temporary camp, Burke and Garrick
were roasting a rabbit over a small fire. Burke sent her an amused look, and
Garrick shot her a surreptitious wink that almost caused her to giggle.

On what would be
their last day traveling together, Jossalyn checked on Burke’s stitches. The
wound was healing rapidly with no lingering sign of infection, so she removed
the stitches, declaring that as long as Burke continued to go easy on the leg
for a few more days, he would be fine.

Only a few hours
into their ride that morning, the two men halted their horses. The area looked
identical to the terrain through which they had been traveling for the last few
days, at least to Jossalyn’s untrained eyes. The dense woods had thinned
slightly, and there were increasingly more open swaths of land filled with
rocky outcroppings and clumps of heather between the stretches of forest. Setting
aside the general changes in landscape since they had been traveling north from
the Borderlands, Jossalyn didn’t recognize anything different about this place.

Both men
dismounted, and after helping Jossalyn down, Garrick clasped arms with Burke.

“Travel safely,”
Garrick said, his voice a little more gruff that usual.

“And you as well,”
Burke replied.

Jossalyn looked
back and forth between the two men. “What’s going on? Where are you going,
Burke?”

He smiled at her
confusion. “I have a different mission to complete, lass. I am needed by my
Laird back on Sinclair lands.” He turned to Garrick and went on. “I’ll give
your best to your brother and Lady Alwin.”

“And I’ll tell the
Bruce that you nearly gave your life to complete this mission,” Garrick said
seriously.

Jossalyn felt her
jaw slacken, her thoughts a jumble. Garrick had a brother? Had she heard right
that this mystery brother was the Laird of his clan? And there was some lady
named Alwin—but wasn’t that a boy’s name? And Garrick had the personal ear of
Robert the Bruce, enough to pass on a good word about Burke? And Burke was
leaving them, meaning that they would be alone…

Garrick watched as
Jossalyn’s features clouded with confusion. She opened her mouth, and a flood
of half-formed questions began to tumble out, but he held up a hand to still her.

“We can discuss all
this later, lass,” he said firmly, “but right now Burke must be on his way, and
we on ours.”

He could tell she
wasn’t happy about it, but she managed to clamp her jaw shut and cross her arms
over her chest. He was about to clasp forearms with Burke one last time and
turn back to his horse, but Burke grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him
several paces away from Jossalyn.

“What are you—”

“You two had
better be married the next time I see you,” Burke said quietly. Though he was
normally good at reading people, Garrick couldn’t quite measure out the mixed
quantities of amusement and warning in Burke’s voice.

Garrick raised an
eyebrow at his cousin. Even though he knew that Burke was a good and honorable
man, and that his advice was sound, it irked him to be told what to do.

“You’re not her
father, Burke, nor are you some saint yourself,” he said dryly.

“Nay, I’m neither,
but take the word of a man who regrets not being able to follow his own
advice,” Burke replied darkly.

Garrick frowned
but remained silent. He had a vague memory of a boyhood love of Burke’s being
married to another, but he didn’t want to pry if the memory was still painful. He
didn’t have to, for Burke went on.

“I once found a
lass that I looked at the way I see you looking at Jossalyn. I missed my
opportunity with her, though, and I regret it to this day. It is not only the
honorable thing for you to wed Jossalyn, but the wise thing if you ever hope to
find happiness in your life.”

Normally Garrick
would have bristled at the way Burke was being so forceful with his advice—or
at least he would have teased him for being so philosophical—but Burke’s
serious tone gave him pause.

What was stopping
him from asking Jossalyn to marry him? They clearly cared for each other, and
they had a spark between them like nothing he had experienced before. He was
also starting to truly believe that their lives might be compatible. He wanted
to use his skills to help the Bruce and the rebellion, and so did she.

Was it that he
still didn’t fully believe that he deserved a lifetime of happiness? Perhaps,
though he was coming to trust in Jossalyn’s affection for him, despite his
doubts about whether or not he deserved her. The thought of extending his heart
to her and being rejected terrified him. Yet taking a shot and missing the
target was better than never aiming at all.

One thing he
wasn’t sure of was how the Bruce would respond to the idea of his best marksman
getting married. What if he prohibited it on the grounds that it would take Garrick
away from his missions? Or forbade it because she was English, and Raef
Warren’s sister to boot?

His struggle must
have been visible on his face, for Burke smiled a little and said “You’ll
figure it out, I’m sure. When a Sinclair puts his mind to something, nothing
can stop him.”

Garrick returned
his attention to his cousin. “You’re a Sinclair, too, Burke. Perhaps you can
find happiness as well.” Though he had been outright hostile to having Burke
join him on this mission at first, then only grudgingly accepting of his
presence, his cousin had become not only a trusted companion but a friend over
the course of these past several weeks. He truly wished him well and hoped he
was able to resolve the lingering pain from his mysterious lost love.

Burke snorted
wryly. “Mayhap, though I sometimes fear that we only get one chance at it. Don’t
waste yours.” The last was spoken seriously, and Garrick nodded soberly in
response.

The two strode
back to where the horses and Jossalyn stood. Burke gallantly took Jossalyn’s
hand and swept a bow over it, which caused her to smile girlishly. For some
reason this made Garrick frown, but on seeing his dark face, Burke only
chuckled and clasped arms with him once more before mounting his horse.

“Farewell!” Burke
called over his shoulder as he urged his horse on, leaving them behind. He
still had a few days’ ride ahead of him to get to the farthest northeast corner
of the Highlands, where the Sinclairs made their home. Garrick and Jossalyn, on
the other hand, were only a few hours away from Inverness. Though the exact
location of the Bruce’s camp was not only top-secret but also ever-changing,
Garrick knew it would be hidden nearby.

Garrick mounted
Fletch and then helped Jossalyn up, suddenly sensing their aloneness. Should he
speak what was on his mind regarding what Burke had said about marriage? He
rejected the idea, deciding that he would need to speak to the Bruce first. That
would also buy him more time to chew on Burke’s words. Besides, they would be
at the Bruce’s camp by the end of the day.

Jossalyn turned
slightly in the saddle. “Now will you answer my questions?”

He smiled a little
at her impatience, but also relished the thought of getting to talk more with
her alone.

“Aye, go ahead
lass.”

“You have a
brother?”

“Two actually.” She
waited for him to say more, but he was enjoying goading her too much. Finally,
she sighed and half-twisted in the saddle to glare at him for a moment.