The Highlander

She snorted and he chuckled.

  "I suppose you wish me to… rub you lower also, aye?" she asked, a hint of a smile in her voice, though she was still shivering. Her hair was wet, the cave cold, and her skin still moist.

  "Aye, lass," he said.

  She moved her hands lower, tentatively, then feeling his arse was ice cold—her hands hot against his bare skin, she began to rub vigorously. "You are so icy."

  "Aye. Did you think I wished your hands there for some other reason?" He tried to sound serious, but he was afraid she could hear the humor in his voice as much as he was smiling.

  "I distinctly remember you telling me when we first met that if I was not careful, I could wake the dragon from its sleep."

  He smiled. Oh, aye, he was well awake—her sweet body rubbing against him, guaranteeing that.

  "I have nearly finished with you there. Where else do you wish me to warm you?" she asked.

  He didn't think she would like to hear his answer.

  "Your arms?" she asked.

  "Nay. I wish to continue rubbing your skin, and keep our bodies close to share the heat at the same time," he said.

  "Oh, Niall," she said, choking back a sob.

  "Lass, we are all right for the moment. What troubles you?" He couldn't stand to hear her so distressed.

  "A puppy…," she said, nestling her head against Niall's chest.

  He smiled. "She is safe with Gunnolf."

  Anora looked up at him, her teary expression full of disbelief. "You found her?"

  "Aye, I witnessed them take you and saw the puppy the knight tore from your arms. I feared you would attack the man, and I would have to fight all five knights at once."

  She smiled through her tears. "Oh, Niall." She wrapped her arms around his neck, her breasts pressed against his body, which quickly reacted to her in a much too interested way.

  He chided himself for his body's response to hers when they only needed to reheat their chilled bodies and maintain some sense of decorum.

  "Where is Gunnolf, Charlie? Your horses? The puppy?" she asked, sounding worried, but he was glad she was able to think clearly as frozen as she'd been. Her gaze was on his, and then lowered to his lips. He thought she wished to kiss him but was afraid to initiate the kiss.

  "Safe, I hope. Matthew is with them," he said, hating to mention him at a time like this, but he had to let her know he had joined forces with them, helping them to find her. Did she truly care for Matthew more than as a friend?

  Anora's eyes widened. "Matthew?"

  "Aye. He said he was looking for you and knows I am no' your cousin. But I fear he isna a warrior."

  She let out a ragged breath. "I cannot believe he is traveling with you. He found me with the French knights and the baroness—did you know about that?"

  "Aye, lass. I overheard them speaking. And then Matthew intended to follow them when he spied me listening in. Then he joined us. He said he will marry you." Niall studied Anora's response, hoping that she would not like that Matthew still thought to marry her.

  When she pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing, Niall smiled and hugged her closer. The Lowland Scot did not have a chance with the lass.

  Chapter 15

  The damp chill in the air was not as noticeable now as Niall's hard, hot body warmed Anora's. She had never touched a man so intimately. Or seen one as naked as Niall. She should have acted like an embarrassed maid, looking shyly away when she saw him, but she couldn't. Not when he was so beautiful.

  Not just on the outside either. He was beautiful inside. After learning he had saved the puppy just because she had tried to take care of it—she loved him for it. How could she find anyone who was as protective of her and as kind as he had been to her?

  Even though he had tied her up to her chair the first day they'd met. But if she'd not fought him, she assumed he would have been honorable and kept her with him on her bed, slept after having been injured so, and would not have done anything more than that.

  Rubbing against him was a different story—knowing her body was reacting to his and his was reacting to hers. She kept telling herself it was necessary so they wouldn't die from the cold. That Niall's fever could return. That she could become just as ill. Yet, telling herself these things did nothing to lessen the discomfiture. And the intrigue of it all. She wanted to feel more than his body touching hers. She wanted to feel what it would be like for a man to love a woman.

  "Matthew is still saying he will marry me, even though he must know I slept with a man who is not my cousin?" Anora took a deep settling breath. Everyone would know the truth once she returned home. If she could return home. Again, she felt badly about abandoning her cottage, her garden, and her sheep. She didn't want to bring up the tavern keeper's daughter's story. What if the girl had made the whole thing up?

  "Aye." Niall must have seen the question in Anora's gaze. What was to become of her? "I dinna care who you truly are, Anora. I couldna help being attracted to you from the very first—envious when I thought Matthew had stolen your heart and hopeful when I learned he had not. I still dinna know what the consequences could be if I wed you, lass, but if you would have a husband who is an orphan with nothing to his name and who is cousin to two Highland lairds, would you have him?"

  Anora was trying not to feel embarrassed to the tip of her frozen toes as she rubbed against the Highland warrior not her husband in an attempt to warm them both. Yet, it felt right somehow, the way he had protected her and saved her life. The way he had come to rescue her from an unknown danger when he had not even known who she was. She loved how they could converse, and he didn't even mind her storytelling. Most of all, she loved this—the feel of his hard body against hers, the way he tried to warm her without insisting they take this further than was prudent. And now, he was offering to marry her?

  And the manner in which he did so. She suspected men did not normally offer to marry a woman while both were completely naked.

  Niall was warm and caring and so gallant. She had no idea what lay ahead for her in the future. How could she agree to marry him when he and his clan might have to deal with the drastic consequences of such an action?

  Yet… She rested her head against his chest again, glad to hear his heart beating stronger, faster, louder—unlike it had when they had been so very cold at first. "If I were only a shepherdess…"

  "Then 'tis an aye," he said, and lifted her chin to kiss her. As if she were still only a shepherdess and that had sealed the bargain.

  "If…" she said, about to remind him of their precarious predicament, but he kissed her instead.

  She was still shivering, as chilly and damp as the cave was, and her hair was still wet, though they'd finally rubbed each other's skin dry, and the stroking and the snuggling had warmed her significantly.

  She realized then her lips had been cold—but no longer. Her whole body heated, as he held her tight against him, his mouth brushing hers, then pressing, his tongue licking her lips, and then seeking entrance. She didn't know a man and woman kissed like that, though she eagerly wanted to share the experience.

  She tried to ignore the way he was so aroused, the way his nipples were hard as pebbles just as hers were, even the way she ached between her legs for a man's touch. How could she when they were not married?

  But she ignored all the self-doubts and kissed him back, her arms wrapped around his body, her mouth pressing against his. And then he stroked her tongue with his. Startled, she glanced up at him. He was looking down at her, his eyes darkened with desire. She kissed him again, and wanted everything he was willing to offer her—whatever an orphan who was cousin to two lairds had—and if it wasn't much, they had Charlie and a new puppy, and she could be a shepherdess again.

  Niall's hand was on her lower back, keeping her against him as he licked her lips, and then kissed her mouth again. His hand was sweeping up and down her back, his other holding the back of her head so she wouldn't melt on the rock floor. Then he finally broke off the kiss.

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; And she thought he was going to tell her they needed to stop before they went too far, when she didn't want him to stop. She hardly noticed the chill.

  "I want you for my own, Anora," Niall said, looking down at her, his expression serious, full of craving.

  But could she agree to this? What if she put him and his family in the gravest of danger? And yet, she wanted him and wanted this union. Was she mad? "But what if—"

  "You are the one for me, lass. 'Tis all I need to know." And then he kissed her again, and she gave into the momentary madness, wanting his kisses, and his love, even if it could never come to pass. She'd been alone for so long, she hadn't realized just how lonely she had been.

  For one moment in time, he was hers and she was his.

  "If you agree to be my wife, Anora, 'tis all we need to do to be married," Niall said, very seriously, his hands shifting to her shoulders, rubbing, still holding her close to keep the chill out.

  Her lips parted in surprise. He was that earnest?

  "By the Highland ways," she said. "I have heard of such a thing."

  "And?"

  She smiled a little at him. "You are really, truly resolute in this, Niall?"

  "I have never been more serious in my life, lass. A man doesna ask a lassie such unless he means what he says."

  "But what of my French family?"

  "You were lost to them many years ago. Unless you wish to return to that way of life?"

  "Nay, I would not know it. I can imagine how people would treat me. I would be considered the noblewoman who served as a shepherdess all her life. I do not think the notion would be well received."

  He smiled down at her then. "I could think of no one I would rather marry than a sweet lassie, who wields my own claymore against my Viking friend and a pitchfork against me, who is the loveliest shepherdess I have ever chanced to meet."

  She smiled at him.

  "If you wish to wait though…"

  Again, she couldn't help the startled response to his suggestion. Did he… did he mean to bed her in the cave?

  "We can wait, but we may be warmer if we dinna," he prompted.

  She laughed. "You may be right, but I suspect only a man would think in such a way."

  He smiled down at her. "Are you agreeable?"

  She took a deep breath and nodded. "But what about your cousin? What if he is not agreeable to your marrying me? What if my family causes trouble for him and your clan?"

  "You are a shepherdess, lass, and my wife—since you have agreed—and naught more." With that last comment, he pulled her brat from the rest of their damp clothes, then he took her hand and led her to their damp-garment bed.

  As soon as Anora lay down on the cold, wet clothes, she shivered.

  "Are you going to be all right, lass? Do the clothes pad the floor well enough for you? You could sleep on top of me, but I wished to warm you with my body and with you being on top, you would be colder."

  "The bed is fine, Niall," she said, getting colder the longer he stood there talking about it. She wanted him to hurry and warm her.

  "I dinna intend to sleep right way," he warned, as he covered her with his body and then pulled her damp brat over them.

  She shivered, partly from the cold and partly with expectation of what making love to Niall would be like. "Aye," she said, and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss her.

  His mouth on hers was slow and easy at first, his tongue gently pursuing hers in a kind of sword play. Their lips met and they both smiled. She loved the way he kissed her between being sweet and passionate.

  And then he moved off her a bit as if he wasn't going to make love to her, and instantly she began to feel chilled from the loss of his body heat and anxious that he wanted to wait. Until he began to stroke her between her legs, touching her in a special spot, making her arch and moan and want more, and yet wanting the sweet pain of pleasure to end.

  Her body was on fire, his tongue licking her lips and then driving inside her mouth, just as he inserted his finger between her legs. She was shocked at the intimacy and more so at her response as her body pressed against his finger wanting him deeper. Wanting more.

  A hot wash of pleasure rushed through her like she'd never known before. She was still trembling with excitement from the experience when he moved her legs apart with his knee and centered himself on her.

  She knew it would hurt. Jane had told her so. Anora braced for the pain, but then Niall began to caress her breasts that felt so heavy and achy, and she luxuriated in the feel of his touch. He kissed her lips, making her forget all about his ready staff.

  He entered her. She felt his hot flesh fill her—so big, yet he continued to caress her, kiss her, trying to take her mind off any discomfort she experienced. His tenderness touched her.

  Then he began to thrust deep inside her. She forgot how cold she was, that they were in a cave making love for the very first time, and that men were trying to hunt her down, and send her far away. All she thought of now was of Niall, his pleasuring her, and how much she loved him.

  Niall felt Anora tense right before he entered her and suspected John's sister had warned her what to expect when she first made love to her husband. But thankfully, Anora had relaxed enough that he could penetrate her without causing too much pain, he thought.

  She began rocking against him, and he couldn't have been hotter or harder or more than eager to please her. He loved the way she was making their joining so much more memorable. Yet, he hated to take her in this manner—in a chilly, semi-dark cave, on a rock hard floor—yet, he couldn't deny that the friction between them heated him through and through. And he hoped it was doing the same for her.

  Her bucking against him was unexpected and made the experience all the more pleasurable. He had envisaged she'd just lie there quietly—until she was more used to him, and they could experiment further later. He kissed her mouth, their tongues mating, their lips pressing together afterwards, hungry for more.

  He felt the end coming too soon—he'd wanted this with her for far too long—and held on, wanting to stay inside her for as long as possible. Thrusting over and over again. And then he exploded inside her.

  She smiled as he bathed her womb with his hot seed.

  He pumped into her again and again until she had milked him thoroughly. Sated to the point of satisfaction, he lay half on top of her to keep her warm, and half off her so he wouldn't press too much of his weight against her. But like he had said, he wanted to be the one on top to keep her warmer as the chilly air surrounded them. He hugged her tight, loving the feel of her soft body in his embrace, thinking how much better this would be once they reached Craigly Castle and he snuggled with her on his down mattress.

  "Is tú mo ghrá, Anora," Niall said, kissing her cheek. "You are my love."

  "You will always have my love, Niall of the Clan MacNeill. Always," Anora said.

  "And mine," Niall said, hating where he'd had to do this, but pleased she had agreed to be his wife.

  Anora didn't think she could sleep since she couldn't quit thinking about the way Niall had made love to her—how wondrous he had made her feel—and wondered how long before they could do it again.

  For a while, they just shivered together until their bodies warmed each other enough, the brat keeping some of the heat in, but she was still too cold to sleep. And she wanted to know more about Niall, wishing she'd taken the time to ask him more before this. Not that she thought she'd change her mind. 'Twas too late anyway.

  "Tell me about your family, Niall." It wasn't an idle question either. If she had to live with Niall's family, she wished to know what she was getting herself into.

  "My da died in a skirmish with a neighboring clan when I was eight. My mother died the following summer of a fever. Losing my father was difficult enough. He had been the one to teach me how to live off the land, hunt, and fight. He wasna a tender man—but a warrior through and through. But when my mother died, I was… angry. She had been so good to
me, loving me, defending me when I couldna defend myself."

  Anora stroked his arm and kissed his head resting on her chest. It seemed odd for him to be nestled against her breasts, but it kept her warmer than if he lay by her side. She thought about Niall's mother and father and wished that she'd had even that much time to have spent with her own when she was little.

  "I was angry at the world," Niall continued, his warm breath tickling her breast. "Angry that my cousins had each other and a mother who adored them. Their father was another matter. But enough said about the dead. I didna want to live with my cousins as their brother or have my aunt replace my mother's affection. This is not to say I didn't care for her or my cousins. I did. But you see… I couldn't give up my mother just yet."

  "I am so sorry, Niall. But I completely understand."

  He kissed her breast and she smiled.

  "They were so good to me, lass, when I was too angry to want their kindness. No' to say my cousins coddled me. James, the eldest, straightened me out many a time."

  "Nay."

  "Aye, but I well deserved it. I told my aunt she wasna my mother and couldna tell me what to do during one of my numerous outbursts. Shortly after my mother's death, I had attempted to push everyone away. But you see, she could tell me what to do because she was the lady of the keep and because she was my guardian. James and I fought in the inner bailey that time, his younger brothers watching, but not interfering. James held his punches because he was so much older than me, whereas I didna. I was too angry and would have fought the whole world if need be." Niall sighed.

  "He understood, did he not?"

  "Aye. He is a good leader of men. It wasna too many years after that when he was still a lad that his da, our laird, died, and James took over the leadership. He was voted in by all the clan—he is that well-loved. I have always tried to emulate him, truth be told. Though if you told him thus, I will deny it to my dying day."

  She chuckled. "He sounds like he is a good laird." Which relieved her mightily.

  "Aye, he is. I gave him a black eye and all he did was laugh. He allowed me a few more punches, but his laughing curbed my urge to strike him all that hard. 'Twas more that I couldna give up the fight with so many others watching. I couldna be seen as weak. And then James knocked me on my arse and told me not to get up, if I knew what was good for me. I saw then, he had to prove a point to the rest of the clan and to me. I needed to change my ways—to accept that my aunt would now be like my mother—that my cousins were now like the brothers I never had. He held out his hand, and I accepted his friendship, and later, I secretly apologized to my aunt."