Page 25 of Wicked Passions

I want both. Together.

This time she did stumble, only halted from a face-first tumble down the steep path into Stirling village by Leith curling a hand under her elbow.

“Here now,” he said with a furrowed brow. “You’re not actually ill, are you?”

“No,” she mumbled. “Quite well.”

Ha. But she could hardly confess to her manservant the things she’d seen and experienced at that cozy cottage nestled near the bottom of this hill. Or that her increasingly wicked and forbidden wedding night wish was not just her husband bedding her…but her husband and their lover.

Really though, she didn’t have time to ponder a wedding night, not when she had no idea who would win the tourney. Her heart and soul screamed for Callum, and he’d been nothing short of magnificent with bow and arrow in hand, but there was still the stone put and the revels to navigate before the final event of swordplay. Good men had left in defeat earlier, and vile men like that MacDonald of Carnoch had succeeded. Such was the nature of a tourney.

All she—all they—could do was take each day as it came.

“Here ye are then, lassie,” said Leith as he halted outside Callum and Alastair’s cottage. “I’ll be back to fetch ye before nightfall; I have no wish to walk that hill with naught but moonlight to guide my way. Besides, we must return before the feast ends—”

“Or Mother will have all our heads on pikes, I know, I know,” Isla replied with a faint grin.

“I’ll knock thrice on the door. Teach him well.”

“I shall,” she promised.

Her very future depended upon it.

Chapter 6

“I’m rather envious at the care you are lavishing on that blade. Are you hoping to impress me or Isla?”

Alastair glanced up from where he sat on the chaise, polishing his laird’s sword to a gleaming shine. “I want it to look like the weapon of a champion.”

Callum tilted his head. “You didn’t answer my question.”

What was he supposed to say?

Yes, I wish to impress her. Also not just watch, but pleasure your future lady wife. Fuck her until she screams herself hoarse then hold her in my arms as I held you.

“Of course, I wish to impress. A poorly kept blade will hardly find favor with a swordfighter.”

“Alastair. I know you desire Isla. You don’t have to conceal it to protect me. In fact, I wish you wouldn’t because I don’t want any secrets between us. Unless your desire for me has cooled?”

He stilled. Callum was rarely so blunt. Then again, this was an unusual situation. “No,” he said forcefully. “Never. But while I do lust for her, I won’t make trouble or insist you choose…look sharp, laird. A lad approaches the front door.”

“Then we should let the lad in,” said Callum, smoothing his linen shirt, and his hair, for about the twentieth time.

It made Alastair want to kiss him; to disturb that perfect surface. Yet now he wanted to do the same to Isla. To leave his mark on her, let all and sundry know she was his and he would fight beside her unto death.

“Welcome lad,” he called as Callum ushered Isla into the cottage.

She grinned and bowed. “Why thank you, kind sir. I see you are doing good work there.”

Alastair gave the sword blade one last rub with the rag, twisting it one way and the other to ensure no oil spots or finger marks remained. “I pray it shall be deemed worthy of a warrior.”

Isla discarded her cap and cloak, then sauntered toward him. His breath caught at her sheer sensuality; the confidence she had when wearing hose rather than the gowns she hated. Naturally, his thoughts turned carnal, imagining Isla naked on her hands and knees in front of him, his fingers tangled in those pitch-black curls, teasing her sweet cunt while his thumb penetrated her arse to heighten release…

“Why Alastair,” she purred, raising one winged black eyebrow. “Whatever were you thinking just now?”

A polite lie slid onto his tongue, but much like Callum didn’t want secrets between them, he didn’t want a lie between him and Isla, even a small one.

“Lewd things.”