Laird of the Game (11 page)

“I love it here. It feels magical and ancient.” Her hands caressed his back. The warmth of his skin under his shirt drew her like a magnet.

“Aye, darlin’, tis beautiful, but ye’d better watch out for the fairies coming out tae steal a beautiful wumman. They’d take ye into their magical castles, and we’d never see ye again.”

“Well then I have nothing to worry about! I’m just an old Hag.”

His body shook from laughter.

“Would you, my handsome darling, kiss a Hag?”

The simmer in his jade eyes sparkled in the moonlight. He bent down and brushed his warm lips across hers, and it was all the invitation she needed. Melissa wound her arms around his neck and held on as his tongue touched and caressed hers. The sensation was warm and had a dizzying affect on her.

His arms held her tight and lifted her off the ground while he tasted and tempted her. The ache deep within her was already at a fever pitch, and yet, he could make her burn with desire. He released her slowly, and she slid down the length of his warm body. Melissa took several deep breaths to calm the rage of passion. Her cheek rested against his chest while his arms held her tight.

“Ye sure don’t kiss like a hag,” he teased.

Melissa bit him lightly on the chest.

“Och! Ye’re in a playful mood. Now I am going tae get ye into bed fast!”

Alex took her hand in his. They walked back to the cottage and it was their nightly routine to take a hot bath before bed. The bath was a marvel of ancient Roman design, Robert had explained, and heated by stones in the sunlight during the day.

Alex was already in the bath. He could strip off his clothing faster than anyone she had ever met. She hung up her dress, and she stepped in behind him. Melissa put her hair up with a comb so she didn’t have to try and dry it before she went to bed. Alex reached for the bar of soap that he used on his hair, and she took it from his fingers, and reached up to wash his hair.

That left Alex with two free hands to apply soap to her body. He had her right where he wanted her, settled on his lap. His lips caressed hers while she massaged the soap in his hair. It was a delightful sensation, he thought and continued to plunder and taste her soft lips until the soap started to run down his face. Alex dunked his head under the water and rinsed off.

He shook his head and water splashed in her face. She sat on a ledge and involuntarily gasped as his hands slid up her thighs. The water wasn’t very deep and he was on his knees in front of her.

“I canna remember a time in my life when I’ve been so happy,” he murmured, and his body responded, hungry and demanding as his fingers found the heat of her.

“I love tae watch ye sleep,” his voice was pitched deep and low. He knew where to touch her to bring her comfort, and so much pleasure she purred and her head fell back. Her legs wrapped around his hips, but he would not cease the rhythm, or let her pull away from him. He slid deeper and he could feel her muscles spasm against his hand.

“No, no’ yet,” he stepped out of the bath and stood her before him to dry her with his kilt. Her knees buckled from the heady pleasure of his tongue against her hardened nipples.

The heat of his body excited her. He took her hand in his and kissed her fingertips. Alex lit a candle and put it on the table.

Alex didn’t seem to mind the cool room and waited for her to crawl into bed. She was settled in the small bed, and he crawled in next to her, rolled over and had her pinned under him.

“Just where I want ye,” he said softly and brushed the hair from her face. His weight was braced with his elbows as he studied her face in the candlelight. The shimmer of love in her blue and violet eyes always brought a wild joy to his heart. Her skin was softer than the finest silk, and she responded so intensely to his touch that it delighted him to know she desired him.

Melissa didn’t give a little of her heart; she poured it all into their world. He savored that moment of ecstasy as the wet heat of her enveloped him. He tried to remember every detail, every feeling, all the turbulent emotion he felt when they became one, and yet found every night he had forgotten her beauty and the raw passion that engulfed him. In this physical embrace, he was beyond thinking while her small hands roamed his body to caress and explore.

He claimed her lips and wound his fingers through her soft hair. The glimmer in her eyes mesmerized and tormented him. Where had she been for all those lonely years? The timeless rhythm of their bodies brought out a glow in her gaze that was just for him. It was a carnal act of possession to drive his throbbing shaft into her again and again.

Her mouth opened to his, and he tasted and caressed her lips with the tip of his tongue. Melissa moaned softly, and he could feel her body trembling from passion held at bay to prolong the moment. Her back arched and he thrust into her hard. He met her soft moans with a hand at the small of her back to bring her closer.

“No, not yet,” he said again, and turned her over onto her stomach. The damp sheen of perspiration glistened in the soft glow of candle light. He was going to explode from wanting her so much and slid into the depth of her womb while he caressed her, filled her, and brought her to spasms of ecstasy. His hands slid over her hips and the mind-shattering release left him gasping and crushing her soft body beneath him.

He sagged onto the bed next to her, spent. Slowly they could both breathe again.

She turned on her side to put her head on his chest. “Now?” she teased and it made him chuckle.

In truth, he realized, he was awed at her gentle beauty. He had intimately known beautiful women in his life, but never one who could speak to his heart and soul with nothing more than a smile on her sweet lips and a sparkle in her eyes.

The candlelight sputtered, and the room went dark. They were wrapped in each other’s arms when they drifted off to sleep. Alex was certain he heard a bagpipe playing softly somewhere in the hills out beyond the mist and the fairy mounds.

Chapter Eleven

Prince George
jumps into the lead! Laird MacKenna was caught off guard and lost a two hundred-and-fifty point lead. It was reported by the Prince’s men that William, the youngest MacKenna, fell off his horse during a battle. The Bookies in London are dropping from exhaustion.

On the Streets, with Rosabel

Amber was in the checkout lane at the Safeway Grocery Store in Boulder, Colorado. Her mind was on summer school and the upcoming exam. The last thing in the world she expected was to look over the magazine and tabloid display and see a picture of her sister kissing a man who looked like he had walked out of ancient Scotland. She reached out and took the tabloid in one hand, and the other hand speed dialed her sister in Minneapolis on her cell phone.

“Oh my God, Sarah, you have to get a copy of this tabloid. “It’s Melissa! There’s some wild barbarian who’s got her cradled in his arms and he’s kissing her. This guy is wearing a skirt in public. There is some serious gropeage going down on my sister.”

“I’ve been trying to reach you. The hotel called this morning and said there have been reporters looking for her. Isn’t she with her tour group? She said she wasn’t going to call home during her vacation, but I really want to hear from her to know she is all right.”

Amber loaded her groceries in her car and got behind the wheel. “I’m going to call the Embassy right now. See if you can find out something online about this guy and where he might have taken her.”

Amber finally made it through to the Embassy office. They explained that Highlanders don’t have a permanent address and were difficult to locate. The local Constable would have to be sent out on horseback to find them.

“If a tabloid can find her, so can the Constable!” Amber raved, exasperated. “Find my sister!”

***

It was Evan’s turn to command the camp on Tuesday, and she hadn’t checked in with him before she left for the loch. He found her, and she quickly discovered Evan had a temper. He backed her up all the way to the cottage by yelling, non-stop in Gaelic.

The burr in his voice was hard to understand, but somewhere in his ranting she guessed he thought she had gotten lost.

Wednesday, Gideon’s easy-going nature got riled when the warriors offered to pose for one of her paintings. He slung her over his shoulder like she was a bag of wheat and dropped her on the cottage doorstep with a warning to stay put until Alex returned to camp.

Gideon swore his hair was going to turn white. She didn’t understand the language well enough to know the warriors were offering to pose nude for her.

It was Robert’s turn to command the camp on Thursday, and he nearly had a nervous breakdown. Melissa walked down the path to the loch and was intercepted by warriors several times before she had made it out of camp.

The warriors were always gracious, she noticed. Most of the men were out with Alex in battle and it was a hot, lazy afternoon.

Robert yelled at her from across the camp. He was furious, she noticed when he approached and glared at the warriors who had come out to greet her.

“Melissa! Where are ye goin’, lass?” Robert fumed. “And have ye though’ about putting on your proper dress instead of romping around in your under things?”

She was wearing the only other clothing she had, her skirt and lace top that she wore to supper with his family when she arrived. “My dress was washed this morning and it’s drying on a tree branch.”

“It’s a ten point penalty to be caught out of uniform,” a warrior commented and Robert blanched. He barked out orders for the warriors to get on with their duties, aghast at the slip.

His long, straight hair was unbound and gave him a fierce, untamed look. “You will not wear that skirt outside without Alex here, ye ken?” Robert was not going to argue.

She didn’t think he was being fair. “I don’t have a uniform like all of you do.” She wanted to cry. “I don’t have a tartan!” He pointed back to the cottage, and she returned — fuming.

Robert was so badly frazzled he had to blow up a bridge before he could calm down.

Her short skirt was mentioned in several prayers that evening.

Iain came in to prepare her breakfast, but Melissa assured him she wasn’t hungry. He left the cottage to take care of his duties, and Melissa sat with her legs tucked under the warm wrapper. She sipped her coffee and thought about her day. Alex was often gone at first light, and she spent her days painting or tidying up the little cottage.

It didn’t take long to straighten up the room, and in fact, most of the clutter was hers. Alex never made a mess, and she found that fact disturbing. She swept the floor with a hand-made broom and sat staring out of a small, four-pane window while she was lost in daydreams.

There were shutters on the small window, and she couldn’t imagine a storm so fierce that it would tear them off and send them into the field outside the cottage. The black house was thatched with bracken and was so sturdy it could withstand just about any fierce storm. A small fireplace heated the room quickly and took the chill out of the air. It was a beautiful life, she thought— simple, serene, and lonely without Alex beside her.

It was funny how something so simple as sweeping the floor could make her burst into tears. She desperately missed her sisters, and had been yelled at for most of the week by Alex’s brothers for every minor infraction possible. She put the broom aside and sagged onto the bed, sobbing with her face covered by her hands. When Alex returned to camp and found out she had been outside in her short skirt, he was furious with her and told her stay inside where she was safe. They had their first fight, because Melissa refused to be held hostage. He also found out she wouldn’t back down from his steaming-hot temper, and had yelled right back in his face. She refused to join them for supper, and by sunset, there was a small bouquet of wild flowers on the doorstep with a note that he loved her. He didn’t come back to the cottage that night and she spent the long hours in tears of frustration. She wanted to go home, and yet didn’t want to leave without him. She had almost talked herself into going to the shore to find the mist again, when she fell asleep.

Melissa decided on sketching to quell the loneliness while he was gone. She took out her charcoals and watercolor pencils. She had to light a candle and put it on the table beside her paper. It was dismal and rainy today, and the weather matched her melancholy mood.

She didn’t think about what she was sketching, the subject matter chose itself. Her drawing was a nude of Alex sleeping on his stomach on top of the covers. He looked so beautiful, she remembered, and ran her fingers lightly over the curve of his body as if she could touch him wherever he was now.

The quilt over the bed was his tartan colors of blue and red with gold threads, and it added a little color to the drawing to put in small pieces of the world around them.

An old stone Irish whiskey bottle sat on the window ledge that she used for wildflowers, and the floorboards were worn smooth and gray. The cottage was sound and had only three rooms to clean. The kitchen fire was in the middle of the main room, and their bed was tucked against the wall.

There was a pantry against one wall that held some items in an icebox that had a hand-made handle, and ice was brought down from the mountains, Alex had told her. The ceiling was made of beams of cleft oak placed close together and then covered with sod to keep them warm and dry. The cottage roof was thatch, overlaid with fishing-nets weighted with stones to keep them in place.

This was her home with Alexander. Melissa didn’t want to think about her world in the future. Hot tears dropped on her cheeks. She didn’t want to leave him, but didn’t think she could survive living in the past. He had promised to go with her when the Prince was sent back to England, but that was a week ago already and it didn’t seem as if the fighting was ever going to end.

It frightened her to think the mist could find her and whisk her back to the future. The anxiety was taking its toll on her. If she left without Alex, her heart would shatter and break.

She ran her fingers over the sketch. Was it possible to love him any more than she did at this moment? Every day they found out something new about each other and, their nights were intimate and searching.

Would the day come when they had discovered all there was to know about each other and look elsewhere for the intense pleasure they found in each other’s arms?

There had never been the kind of intimacy that she had with Alex. He only had to look at her with that wicked smile of his, and she would lose her mind. But would he ever want another woman?

Melissa broke the charcoal in half just thinking about Alex in bed with another woman. The thought rattled her terribly. She had never been possessive about anything or anyone else before now.

The rain had let up, and she decided to go down by the loch to paint. Gideon wouldn’t allow her out of the cottage without an armed escort. The camp was nearly deserted, and she walked down the path and set up her easel. She had been working on a painting of Alex and had the sketch on the canvas and was ready to go to work. It was still the morning hours, and he wouldn’t be back until supper.

The paint eased on the canvas, and she worked frantically to get the light right before it faded. She painted until the image that was inside her mind was on the canvas.

Alex was unusually late getting back to the camp, and Melissa was getting worried. She cleaned out her paintbrushes and stood back to admire the painting of Alex standing on the top of a hill looking out at the ocean. He looked magnificent with his dark wavy hair just below his shirt collar, tartan kilt, and sword belted to his side. He looked every bit the handsome ancient warrior. He had that far away look in his soft jade eyes. The tormented emotion she had seen in his gaze was now captured on canvas.

William sauntered up the hill where she was painting. She hadn’t seen him in days and guessed he desperately needed some rest. She continued cleaning up her painting supplies.

William took a long look at the painting. “Ye’re in love with him.”

The deep, melody of William’s voice always unnerved her. If she closed her eyes she could hear William’s voice from almost anywhere in the camp.

“Was that a question?” Melissa became uneasy. “Are you afraid that I would hurt your brother in some way, William?” She reached out and touched his arm.

His hand covered hers possessively. “I canna stand tae see ye so upset.”

She didn’t want to lie to him. “Don’t worry. Alex and I will work this out. I took one look into his eyes, and I knew that I loved him.”

William looked back over her shoulder and his gaze hardened. He withdrew his hand. “Good evening, Alex.” he greeted his brother.

Her heart started hammering in her chest. She knew Alex was standing directly behind her and had heard what she said. His arms circled her waist.

“I’ve left ye alone too much this week,” Alex whispered against her ear. “Forgive me, my Angel.”

She didn’t see the blazing look between two brothers as William departed.

Alex had victory in the palm of his hand. He had won her heart. The intense fear that had clenched his stomach into a knot for the past few weeks slowly eased.

It was an awkward moment, and she wasn’t sure if she should bring up their argument.

“Alex, what is the statue on the hill for?” She had been curious about some of the local history and wanted to break the tension between them.

“That’s a
sheila-na-gig
, a fertility symbol. Late at night the warriors strip down and dance naked in the moonlight so they can father many bairns and please their women.”

“Did you dance, Alex?”