Page 23 of Highland Storm

She recognized the desire in his eyes.

And suddenly, she wanted to kiss him too… and it wasn’t all a ruse.

But she had never kissed a man before.

Not even the sound of men rising from their pallets could dissuade her now, for then she would have all the witnesses she would need to prove she spoke the truth.

And anyway, they were mostly sheltered from prying eyes, half hidden behind a mound of snow where once had been a crumbling wall. Lianae couldn’t see anyone so she surmised they probably couldn’t see her either—not entirely.

Curling her toes, she reached out to boldly press her lips against Keane’s mouth, inhaling sharply at the scent of his male skin—horse and man and something else… something she had never scented before now. Cocooned as they were, he smelled oddly like pollen, like that sweet, heady aroma that flared her nostrils every spring. But this was the essence of him, a tantalizing aroma that sent her pulses skittering and her heart beating like a hapless prisoner against her ribs.

“Ach, lass,” he said, and followed the protest with a low, confused groan.

Emboldened by his reaction—by her will to be free of the Earl—Lianae arched into his embrace, reaching down to pull his hand out from between them, wanting to feel him lean into her, his body heavy and full with ardor. She had never had a chance to ask her sister how it should feel, but this is how she’d always imagined it.

And that was all the encouragement he seemed to need. His arms enfolded her, and Lianae pressed herself more fully against him, marveling at what she encountered. Ach, but nay, the man was very, very fond of women—and particularly fond of her, she realized. Words alone would not serve her now, and so she said naught. Instead, she moved closer, into Keane’s space, pressing her body more fully against him.

With a guttural sound, his hand swept the length of Lianae’s body, stopping to cup the curve of her bottom and pulling her hungrily against his arousal. Lianae cried out softly, her body convulsing in secret places. His lips softened and his tongue found her own, unexpectedly foraging into her mouth. Dazed by the gesture, and intoxicated by the taste of him, Lianae lay for a moment, until he slackened his embrace—as though he meant to stop. And before he could pull away, she shoved her tongue between his lips, mimicking his actions, and moaning softly as he let her come inside to explore…

“Ach… nay, lass,” he said, but he didn’t stop. His hands continued to explore Lianae’s curves, dancing over her thigh. Too lost in the moment to care precisely what it was that was happening, Lianae reveled in the feel of his strong hands exploring her flesh. Even despite that she was a virgin, she knew very well that she wasn’t behaving like one, but right now, she didn’t care overmuch. It was for a good cause, she assured herself, and the simple fact that she was enjoying it so immensely was a wonderful surprise.

He shifted his weight so that he straddled her beneath the covers, and Lianae’s heartbeat quickened as she peered up at him, meeting his gaze. With a tiny knowing smile, she nudged him gently at his loins… urging him to continue.

“You’re a wee siren,” he whispered. “A kelpie for sure…”

Beauteous faeries who seduced men to ride and then plunged them into the raging sea.

“Dinna stop,” Lianae whispered against his mouth. “Dinna stop.”

He enfolded her once more, and Lianae marveled at the strength of him, the feel of his hard body, and very much unlike that time with the Earl, she did not pray for someone to save her… and yet someone did. The instant he bent to kiss her again, someone cursed roundly, thoroughly breaking the spell.

“Ach… I am so sorry, lass,” he said, thrusting his long fingers into the hair at the back of her head and tugging her gently away. He held her down so she couldn’t follow.

And that was that; he was up and out of the covers faster than Lianae could blink.

Her would-be savior was gone.

Chapter

Eight

The blare of a shepherd’s horn heralded their approach.

Straightening in the saddle, Kellen dún Scoti rode side by side with his new bride—he on a winter-white mare, and she on a Barbary black.

Riding ahead, along with his captain, Kellen’s father picked up the pace, eager to be home. So was Kellen, although he was overanxious about what his mother might say about the lovely woman riding at his side.

The past few weeks had proven a wonderful adventure, and he had come home a brand new man, but he cast a nervous glance at his bonny new wife and felt far less grown than he would have liked.

Would his mother welcome Constance with open arms? Would she be angered over the present circumstances? Would she acknowledge that, at sixteen, he was a man grown and allow him to establish his own home?

Or would she embarrass him before his MacKinnon wife?

Either way, Kellen realized that his mother was bound to be disappointed, if for nothing else, for not having been present for his nuptials. But ultimately, he hoped she would see it as a boon, for by his marriage to Constance, they now held blood ties to the MacKinnon laird, a man who was well respected throughout the north. These were turbulent times, and it would behoove them all to bind themselves together.

Painted white beneath a great blue sky, the hillside meandered into a valley that was protected on three sides by corries and on the fourth by a beautiful loch. Down in the valley below, encircled by bare-limbed rowan trees, sat row upon row of stone cottages—one of them soon to be his own. Today, the vale appeared much the same as it did when he’d first arrived at the tender age of five, but during the summer those same trees would all bloom, and in the fall they’d be filled with bright red berries that would hold fast to their boughs until frost. Even now the last stubborn fruits were layered in frost, shimmering like jewels beneath the waning sun.

He grinned, for the look on his wife’s face was worth the wait and she smiled beauteously as the small cavalcade approached the village, and one by one, his people filed out of their houses to welcome them home.