Author: Shona Thompson

Chapter One

Clan Mackintosh
Highlands, May 1698

“Catreena pushed her head through the gap between the doors, listening intently. Her head was cocked to the side and her blonde hair gathered behind her ears so she could hear clearly.

The guards were marching up and down the battlements of the castle walls, clearly just as determined to keep everyone inside as they were to keep intruders out.

“Ye give yer orders carefully, eh, Alec?” Catreena muttered under her breath, as if she could indeed speak to her older brother, the Laird of the Macintoshes, though he was currently miles away, visiting family in the clan of his wife Kira. Clearly, he had given careful instructions when he left to make sure she was guarded in this castle, more prisoner than free.

Something in the back of Catreena’s mind told her Alec had left such instructions only to keep her safe, but her frustration and boredom made this thought vanish as if it had been magicked from her mind. With Alec away, and Bran, her second brother, also gone with his wife Ilyssa, that left only Dunn, her twin brother, and Evander, her other brother, for company. They were both so caught up in their own business those days, they hardly noticed her when she wished to talk or find entertainment. Fortunately for her, they did not seem to notice much either when she tried to sneak out of the castle.

Catreena waited with bated breath, feeling the cool night breeze on her cheeks as the guards’ footsteps faded away, then she stepped out onto the battlement walls. Lit by the stars above, the castle looked colder than it did in daylight, the stone whiter and much more ghoulish. She shivered as she looked around the bare wall, seeing the spots where some of the guards had left their weapons, ready to snatch up. The sight of those weapons reminded her of the battles that had ensued in these walls and in others.

We’re nae safe. That’s what Alec keeps telling me.

She backed away from the weapons as quickly as she could, going in the opposite direction to the guards. She reached for the nearest watch tower and scrambled down the spiral staircase nestled deep within the grey walls, running her fingers along the stones to ensure she did not lose her balance and fall.

It was always the same, whenever she thought of the battle and bloodshed that happened between the clans of Scotland. It made her fear the future, and fear what men were capable of doing to one another. Her brother’s parting words before he left with Kira on his travels sent a shiver up her spine.

“Remember, Catreena, the son of Laird Gilroy Grant wants revenge on us all after his faither’s death. Ye must stay inside the castle.”

Yet she was tired of staying indoors, and she thought it unlikely that at this time of night, Cillian Grant would steal inside Clan Mackintosh lands to take revenge on her family when so few of them were gathered there.

It’s time for an adventure.

She turned the key in the lock of the door and pushed it open, stepping out beyond the watch tower into the outer grounds. She inhaled deeply, feeling the chilly spring air fill her lungs.

“Freedom,” she whispered to herself. “Aye, it’s wonderful tae breathe easily.” She giggled at what she was doing, the mischief of it all, and glanced back toward the door of the tower, being careful to close it behind her. No guard had noticed her, and before they patrolled back to that tower, she shot off at a run.

With the skirt of her paisley gown tucked into one hand, she sprinted as fast as she could between the trees, running on her toes to avoid making too much noise. The scent of the fresh pine needles filled her nose, as did the wild garlic, stronger and more pungent, the fragrance wafting up from where she kicked the plants as she ran. More than once, she nearly tripped on the roots of trees in the darkness, but she did not care. She simply reached out to nearby trees, steadying her balance before running again.

In the distance, something glistened in the dark. The moon, strong, almost full like a vast candle, was shining on the surface of the loch. She hurried toward it, peering between the branches of the Douglas firs and larches, to glimpse the loch bank.

“Och, it’s beautiful,” she whispered, coming to a halt at last on the riverbank. She panted, catching her breath as her gaze took in the sight of the shimmering loch and the distant mountains. Giggling with delight at her escape in the darkness, she wandered along the loch bank, searching for what she gone there for.

Sophia had said it would be here. Aye, on the loch bank.

She wafted her hands through the long reeds at the edge of the loch, searching by moonlight. For the past few years, Catreena had watched the healer, Sophia’s, to learn all she could from her. Practically an apprentice, Catreena was learning how herbs could heal a man. It was a fascinating subject, a world of tonics and potions that sometimes seemed more magic than science at all. Her twin, Dunn, seemed to be the only one out of her brothers who understood her fascination for such a world, though he too had issued caution about not learning too much.

“Remember ye are sister tae a laird now, Catreena. A healer’s life isnae the one fer ye.”

She had asked what he meant, what he expected the path of her life to be, but he had chosen not to answer.

“Ah, there ye are,” she whispered, coming to a halt on the loch bank. A small and hairy plant stretched up before her. Short and stubby, it was very difficult to find at the side of the reeds, encapsulated in muddy marsh land. The thing that made it most identifiable were the hundreds of tiny white flowers speckled across the stem. The moonlight glinted off the petals, revealing what it was.

Gypsywort.

Sophia had told her what properties it could have for those who struggled to sleep and suffered errant beatings of their heart at night.

She reached forward, about to pluck the plant from the ground, when she felt a chill run up her spine. She froze, her fingers still outstretched toward the plant that swayed in a breeze that rippled around the loch.

The evening may have been cold, but the chill which had run up Catreena’s spine had little to do with that. She had the unmistakable feeling she was being watched.

She stood abruptly tall, stiffening her spine and jerking her head around. Her eyes traced the side of the loch, the undisturbed water, smooth as glass, and the dark mass of trees nearby. She staggered a little as she backed up into the marshy earth, her eyes on those trees. If someone was indeed watching her from that darkness, she had no way of knowing. They would be too hidden.

With one hand, she scrambled to retrieve the dirk she carried in her belt. It never left her side now, and she kept it there at Alec’s insistence, though she had to admit it was now a wise decision. Keeping the dirk close to her side, she clasped her fingers tightly around the hilt, ready to attack if needed.

There!

Catreena thought she saw something move in the trees. She stepped forward, away from the marshy ground and onto the firmer loch bank. She peered, straining her eyes against the darkness to see what was there, then suddenly, something with great flapping wings shot out of the branches. Inhaling sharply, she scarcely managed to stop herself from yelping, as the creature shot past her and into the sky.

She staggered, spinning around as she saw the barn owl, spectral in its white plumage, darting across the river surface, then up toward the mountains.

Realizing how much she had been panicked over nothing more than an owl, she chuckled under her breath, shaking her head. She placed the dirk back in the small scabbard that hung from a leather belt at her hip, ready to return to the gypsywort herb, just as a hand snaked across her waist –

“Nay!” Catreena screamed and whirled around, though she wasn’t fast enough.

She couldn’t reach her dirk as the hand tightened, now clasping her tightly across the back. The tall figure bent his head down toward her, the long dark hair a mass that cloaked the cover of the moonlight for a moment.

Fear erupted in her chest, her heart pounding fast as she pushed into his abdomen, trying to escape him.

“Let go of me!”

“Is that anyway tae greet an old friend, little Catreena?”

She froze, knowing that nickname without even being able to see his face in the darkness. He cocked his head to the side and his lips practically brushed her ear. An unwelcome shiver of delight passed up her spine.

“Are ye mad tae come out here alone in the middle of the night?” he hissed.

The anger was plain, and only mirrored by the anger she felt within her own gut at liking how close his lips were to her ear. Catreena thrust harsher into his stomach and this time managed to wrench herself from his grasp. She backed away into the reeds, stumbling, scarcely keeping her balance, as her eyes settled on his face.

The moonlight now shone on those features she knew very well indeed.

The tanned skin looked very dark in this light, and the tattoos she that covered his body were somewhat difficult to identify, but what was clear was his face. The strong jawline, the pronounced cheekbones, and the gray eyes. In the white light surrounding them, those eyes shone with intensity.

Not once did he blink as he slowly folded his arms, glowering at her, with his tall figure towering over her, despite the distance she had managed to put between them.

“Why did ye dae that?” she raged at him, waving her arms madly. “Ye frightened me half tae death.”

“Imagine how frightened ye would have been had I been an attacker and nae yer friend.”

“Some friend,” she scoffed, and the two of them exchanged an awkward look.

We both ken we arenae friends.

They were more like brother and sister than anything else, though Tad was like the brother she hated. He was her brothers’ dearest friend, and his sister – her best friend – had recently married Bran, so they were now technically extended family. She had known Tad her whole life, watched him as he grew from a boy into a philandering man. Much older than her, a laird with a very particular reputation, Tad carried darkness and seduction with him, wherever he went.

“Ye didnae need tae frighten me,” she tried to go on the offensive again, doing her best to walk out of the marshy reeds and up the bank, far away from him, yet her feet had become stuck in the bog and one foot was refusing to move.

“Ye are telling me off?” he exclaimed, his voice so sharp that her gut squirmed. “Cat, look where ye are!” he hissed loudly.

“I currently seem tae be in a bog,” she muttered to herself, trying to free her foot again, but finding it impossible.

“Bloody hell. What if I was an attacker, eh?” He had clearly seen her predicament and marched toward her.

“Dinnae touch me,” she ordered, holding up her hands. She didn’t want him to again, fearing that she’d feel another one of those excited trembles she despised.

Tad was too seductive for his own good and it didn’t help that she had already made a decision long ago to hate him.

“Come here,” he said, ignoring her order and taking hold of her hand, trying to pull her out. It did nothing though, her foot stayed fast. “Ye are bloody lucky,” he went again, cursing loudly. When he couldn’t free her foot, he stepped closer toward her.

“What are ye doing!?” she hissed in panic.

“What dae ye think?” he matched her tone, his handsome face coming startlingly closer to hers. He wrapped a hand smoothly around her waist and lifted her with one clean jerk out of the bog. Her body fell against his as he walked backward out of the marsh, carrying her. Her hands found his chest, trying to push him away. “Imagine if someone else had found ye. What would ye have done then if he had tried tae take ye here and now in this darkness? Dae ye think a guard could have heard ye scream fer help? Dae ye think ye could fight him off?”

Catreena turned as cold as ice in his arms.

I wish he wouldnae talk about coupling so much.

She had a reputation for her wit and her arguments, but whenever conversation turned to such matters, she preferred to stay silent. For her, intimacy was sacred. It should only be shared between two people who were very much in love. She knew that Tad did not agree though. He saw sex as little more than sport.

“How would ye have fought off a man, eh?” Tad asked, coming to a stop, though he still didn’t put her down. He just held her, his arms around her waist, their bodies pressed flat together. “Assuming ye wanted tae fight him off, of course?” It was a leading question, the glimmer of mischief in those gray eyes, despite the anger which had made his jawline taut.

Her mind was racing. When had Tad arrived at the castle? He must have come to call on her brothers, but then what had induced him to come looking for her out here? Was it chance?

When he still didn’t release her but glared at her in anger, akin to the fury her brothers would feel, her own rage snapped.

“Ye bast –”

“Always so affectionate, little Cat,” he whispered, smirking.

She kicked out at him and he dropped her, allowing her to push away from him across the riverbank.

“I was perfectly safe,” she insisted, scrambling to pull her dirk out to show him. “See. I had this.”

“Oh, aye,” he said loudly with full sarcasm, waving an errant hand toward her. “Much good that was going tae dae ye, eh? Dae ye think a dirk would stop a strong man who wanted tae force himself on ye?”

“I would have stopped him,” she insisted.

“Let’s test that, shall we?” He advanced toward her.

“Tad… Tad, what are ye doing!?” She turned and ran away from him, but she only reached the first tree before he caught her. In one swift movement, he took hold of her skirt and flung her around. She fell against the trunk of the fir tree, raising her dirk threateningly toward him, but he caught her forearm with his right hand.

She couldn’t move her arm and they fell still, staring at one another. She had a feeling he was using a small amount of energy to hold her wrist in place. Compared to his strong biceps, her arms were like twigs.

“See?” he pointed out, his eyebrows risen. “See how easy that was?”

He didn’t move but stayed close to her. The way her gut squirmed once again wasn’t helping. It didn’t help either that Tad had that look in his eyes – it was an expression she could not understand and one she had seen on him a lot recently when he looked at her.

“Ye-ye made yer point,” she managed to stammer.

Abruptly, he released her and stepped back. She returned her dirk to her belt, staring at him, his back now toward her as he breathed heavily and stepped toward the loch.

“I’ll take ye back tae the castle.”

“I’m nae going yet.” She marched toward him, ready to argue further, yet to her surprise, he said nothing. He stayed completely silent. “Tad? Did ye hear me?”

He lifted a hand between them, the palm outward, as if pleading for silence.

“What is it?”

“Shush,” he hissed so quietly, she almost didn’t hear him.

He had cocked his head to the side, his eyes scanning the trees behind them.

I ken that look. I have seen it before on him as well.

She had seen it when he went hunting with her brothers in the woods. He turned completely to face the trees, then reached for her.

“What are ye doing?”

“What dae ye nae understand about holding that sharp tongue of yers, Cat?” he hissed angrily.

“Who said I have tae obey yer order?”

“Quiet!”

“Ah!” she yelped as a whistle of a bolt suddenly struck through the air.

Tad pushed her down behind him. She practically fell to her knees, his hand on her shoulder as he acted as her shield, facing down the trees.

The whistle of the bolt was followed by an angry bellow.

“Get them,” someone roared from the trees.

Two hooded figures stepped out from behind the tree trunks, one already reloading his crossbow as the other drew out a sword from his belt.

“Dae me a favor and obey one order fer once in yer life, Cat,” Tad hissed. He grabbed her arm and drew her to her feet again, then turned his back to her and faced the men. “Leave this tae me.

Chapter Two

Tad rested his hands in his weapons belt, stepping in front of Catreena in the hope that he was blocking her completely as his gaze rested on their attackers.

Nae Cat. Ye will nae put a hand on her.

He was breathing heavily now, like a bull ready to charge, as he stared at the men. He knew this day would come. Grant soldiers had been seen often enough sneaking into the Mackintosh clan as of late, it would only have been so long before they got this close to the castle.

The man with the crossbow raised the weapon ready to fire, then he shifted it, clearly aiming for Catreena.

Tad reached back. In one swift movement, he grabbed her wrist and lunged to the side with her. They landed in the boggy reeds together, their booted feet struggling in the mud, as the bolt whistled passed them and landed in the water of the loch.

“Dimwit,” the man with the sword muttered to the other. “Leave it tae me.” He stepped forward, swishing his sword through the air. In Tad’s mind, he was a man who knew how to posture with a sword, but that didn’t necessarily mean he knew how to use one.

Tad reached for the dirk he carried in his own belt and raised it high, clipping the man’s shoulder so deeply that he staggered back, dropping the sword. A bellow of pain erupted, and as his friend went to check on him, Catreena took the opportunity to try and escape out the other side of the marshy bog, to the other part of the bank. Tad followed her, keeping his eyes on the men at all times.

The one with the crossbow raised his weapon again, bearing yet another arrow. This time, he fired too quickly for Tad to be able to do much about it.

He pulled on the back of Catreena’s skirt, managing to get her out of the way in time, but as he swung the two of them around, causing her to fall into his arms, the arrow caught the side of his arm.

He grunted, hissing in pain through his teeth as he felt the arrowhead tear his shirt and whip past his skin. There would be blood, he knew that, but it was not bad.

He thrust Catreena onto her feet again, only catching a glimpse of her expression in the moonlight, though it was enough to make him suddenly aware of the pounding of her heart.

Her blue eyes were wide with fear.

A fury took over him like nothing else he had ever experienced.

He reached into the back of his weapons belt, lifting out his own crossbow. It was smaller than his foe’s, more accurate, and much more deadly. With a bolt slipped into place within a second, he fired it at the two men. It struck his assailant in the shoulder, knocking him with such startling force, that he dropped his weapon and fell backwards.

“Time tae go,” Tad called to Catreena and grabbed her hand.

“Dae ye have tae hold me hand!?”

“Nae the time fer this!” he snapped back and shot off through the forest. He kept the crossbow in his other hand, ready to use it if needed, as they ran between the trees, darting over scrambling tree roots and great clumps of wild garlic. He could feel Catreena struggling to keep up with his pace, but he didn’t slow down. They needed to get as far away from there as possible, and as quickly as they could.

There could be others waiting for us.

He spied his horse through the branches, the reins tied to the tree where he had left it. When he’d arrived at the castle, he’d caught sight of Catreena running off and had turned his horse to follow her instead.

As they reached the horse, the animal snorted in greeting. Tad took hold of Catreena’s waist and practically tossed her into the saddle.

“Och!” she exclaimed, struggling to sit straight. “I can climb intae a saddle meself. I am nae completely incapable, Tad.”

“Ye say that now?” He scoffed as he snatched up the reins and stepped into the stirrup. With some difficulty, he managed to pull himself up in front of her. She was forced with the way he had tipped the saddle to sit flush against him, her front to his back. “Hold on tight. As if we were lovers.” His tone was a little playful through the anger, though it was only momentary as he looked back through the trees.

There’s someone there. One of the men have recovered and come after us.

“I’d rather grip ontae a wild wolf,” she hissed.

“A lover that acts like a wild wolf isnae bad thing, little Catreena.”

“What daes that mean – ah!” She yelped as he suddenly flicked the reins, and they darted off through the trees again.

Another bolt hit the earth beneath the horse’s hooves, but his steed was a hard one to spook. The stallion barely snorted as it rode on at great speed, sensing the danger and carrying them far away.

Fortunately, at the sudden speed, Catreena had indeed held tightly onto him. Tad just had to do his best not to let the monster that often stirred in his gut rise on this occasion.

It was how he always thought of it when he was aroused, as if some dragon was roaring in his lower gut, ready to rise and feed his lovemaking with fire. That dragon had started to rear its head recently around Catreena, though he knew he couldn’t let that happen.

There were too many obstacles in the way of him letting that dragon free. Catreena was the sister of his dearest friends in the world. There was an age gap between them, and there was also the small problem that she despised everything about him.

How inconvenient that she grew up tae be as spirited and beautiful as she is.

He flicked the reins again and concentrated on their journey. Within minutes, they were back near the castle. As they rode out toward the courtyard, two guards stepped forward, alarmed at their presence.

“We were attacked,” Tad shouted at them. They clearly recognized his voice at once. “Double the guard at every entrance. Consider it an order from yer own laird, I’m sure Alec would say as much.”

Tad was allowed to steer the horse into the courtyard before the guards slammed the gate shut behind him. The moment he slowed the pace of the horse, Catreena released him. She even staggered down from the saddle before the horse had fully stopped, nearly managing to make herself fall over.

Tad halted the horse then jumped down too, passing the reins into the hands of a stable boy who had run through the darkness to greet them.

“What happened out there?” Catreena asked, seeming to speak more to herself than to him at all. For a change, she held no argumentative tone. It was more like a curious fear, her voice very quiet indeed. “Who were they?”

“I expect they were Grant soldiers. They have been seen more and more in the Mackintosh lands. Me scouts saw them recently break yer borders. I came tae warn Dunn and Evander about it tonight.” He tried to take her arm to steer her into the castle, but she veered it out of his grasp.

“Why us?” she snapped, stepping back. “I ken Cillian Grant despises us. Bran married the woman he wanted, but ye were the one who killed his faither. Why come and attack us? Why now?”

“Why dae ye think?” he said, sighing with tiredness. “Ye, Dunn and Evander are easier targets with Bran and Alec away, nae tae mention the soldiers that will accompany them. Ye are nae as fortified as me own castle is. Now, come inside. Ye seem tae have had enough of journeying with me fer one night.”

She narrowed her eyes as she stalked past him into the castle.

“I dinnae intend tae go on a journey with ye ever again, Tad.”

Tad followed behind her. Something in her spirited words had made that dragon purr once again in his gut. He shook his head as he followed her into the castle.

She is forbidden tae ye, ye idiot. Remember that.

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1520, Rósmire Castle, Scotland

Madden Kinnaird sat in the library of Rósmire Castle drinking brandy with his best friend, Keelin Macrae. She was visiting her sister, Edith, lady of Rósmire Castle, where Madden was a skilled warrior and advisor to the laird. Edith had married the Laird Braden Hamilton and they had a newborn baby together named Teigue. Keelin had come for the birth and stayed to help her sister.

“Give me yer hand,” Keelin requested.

“My hand?” Madden asked in confusion. “Why dae ye need me hand?”

“There was a gypsy woman at the last gathering from Wick, and she taught me how tae read palms. I want tae read yer future,” Keelin explained.

Madden chuckled. “I doubt that ye will see very much, but if it pleases ye.” He surrendered his hand to her for examination.

Keelin sat looking at his palm for quite a while in silence.

“Is there nothing tae read, lass? Dae I nae have a future?” He asked in jest.

“Haud yer wheesht. This is harder than it looks,” she reprimanded him returning to silence.

At long last, she finally looked up at him with a smile. Madden laughed at the pleased look on her face. “What did ye see that has ye so pleased? Dae I have a future after all?”

“Aye, ye do indeed,” she informed him with a wide smile. “Ye will soon meet the woman who is tae become yer wife.”

“I willnae,” Madden argued, shaking his head. “I have nae interest in marriage at this time.”

“Whether ye have any interest or nae, it is going tae happen. Ye will meet this woman, ye will marry, and ye will have three bouncing bairns,” Keelin argued.

Madden shook his head. He had no interest in finding a wife. When his mother, Elaine, had been ill, he had taken her to France to see a physician that was believed to work miracles. While there, Madden had fallen in love with his mother’s nurse. He had planned to wed the lass, but she had proven unfaithful, as she was married to another. Madden had been heartbroken. Soon thereafter his mother had died, and he had torn through France drinking, whoring, and fighting his way through his grief until a near death experience had awakened him to his foolishness and he had returned to Scotland a different man.

“Life is nae that simple, Kee,” Madden explained with a sigh.

“I did nae say that it would be simple. Ye will have a difficult beginning.”

“What kind of difficulty?”

“I dinnae ken. Yer palm does nae tell me everything. Given yer reputation, ye will probably have yer way with the wrong woman. There is something about being unfaithful that is coming through. I dinnae ken if it is ye or nae. It will all be well in the end as ye find yer truest love, just as yer maither and faither did.”

Madden frowned. “My maither and faither had to flee their own families tae be together. That is how they came tae be here on Hamilton lands. They were never unfaithful tae one another. True happiness can nae be found in infidelity.”

“Ye will see,” Keelin gave him a knowing eye.

“And when dae ye propose that this mystery wife of mine will appear?”

“I am reading yer palm, nae a calendar,” Keelin laughed.

“Ye saw that someone was unfaithful and that was nae in my palm.”

“True,” she nodded. “I will try.” Keeling closed her eyes. She squinted them shut in concentration, then opened them with a wide smile of satisfaction. “Ye will meet her this summer.”

“But it is summer now,” Madden pointed out, laughing. “Where dae ye believe that ye are getting this insight from anyway?”

Keelin shrugged her shoulders. “I dinnae ken from whence it came. I simply felt it. Mayhap it is God, mayhap it is the spirits of our ancestors. It doesnae matter. Ye will meet yer wife this summer.”

“I would nae perform this palm reading fer just anyone, Kee. Ye might be mistaken fer a witch and put tae death.”

“I will be careful. I promise.”

Curiosity got the better of him and he could not help but ask. “And how shall I meet this wife of mine?”

Keelin’s smile took on a mischievous turn. “I dinnae ken, Madden. Maybe the gods will be gracious, and she will fall intae yer lap from the sky.”

The door to the library swung open and the Laird Braden Hamilton entered. He looked at his dearest friend and his sister-in-law with a smile. “Just the two people that I wished tae speak with.”

“Oh?” Madden raised an eyebrow, passing Braden a drink.

Braden took it gratefully and took a sip. “That is good.”

“Aye, it is. It was part of that last batch I brought over from France,” Madden replied.

Braden nodded. “It is on the matter of travel that I wish tae speak with ye. As ye are aware, Keelin will be returning home upon the morrow.”

“Aye,” Madden nodded.

“The man who I had arranged tae escort her has come down with an ague and can nae longer accompany her. I was wondering if ye would be up tae the task.”

Madden nodded. “Aye, I can escort her safely home.”

“I would like tae stop and see me cousin Arran, laird tae the Clan MacKay, on the way home,” Keelin added, looking at them both with hopeful eyes.

“Aye, I believe that we can arrange that,” Madden nodded.

Braden nodded, pleased. “Good. I thank ye, me friend.”

“We can nae entrust her tae just anyone now, can we?” Madden gave Keelin a wink.

Braden shook his head. “Nay, we cannae. She is a braw lass tae be certain. Me wife would have me innards for haggis if anything happened tae her sister.”

“Aye, she would at that,” Keelin laughed at the image his words painted.

Braden nodded. “Speaking of me wife, I am away tae bed. I will see ye both away in the morning.” Braden finished his drink, handed Madden back the glass, then left them to their own devices.

Keelin stood, finishing the last of her drink as well. “I will bid ye a good night as well.”

Madden looked up in surprise. “Ye dinnae usually go tae bed this early,” he remarked.

“I am nae going tae bed,” she retorted with a mischievous smile.

Madden raised a brow in question. “Where are ye going then?”

Keelin threw him a wink. “Aiden.”

Madden laughed. “Ye are going tae drive that poor lad tae madness. Ye have been toying with him and the other lads as if ye were a cat with a mouse from the moment that ye stepped foot in the castle.”

Keelin shrugged. “I dinnae allow any of them tae touch me. Me reputation and virtue are still intact.”

“Heaven help the lad ye finally allow tae kiss ye. The other will be standing in line tae fight him fer the honor.”

Keelin laughed. “Fighting will nae earn a man a kiss from me. It takes a lot more than that tae win me affections.”

“I am afraid tae ask,” Madden laughed in reply shaking his head at her. “Be careful, Kee.”

“I always am,” she replied, then closed the door behind her.

Madden sat in the library alone finishing his drink.

One day she will find her match and neither of them will ken what tae dae with the other.

Thinking about finding a spouse reminded him of Keelin’s predictions. He looked down at his hand, studying the lines of his palm and wondered whether anything she had said was true. He could not help but wonder if there truly was a woman waiting for him in the near future or if it had all been in Keelin’s imagination. Shaking his head, he downed his drink and stood to ready himself for the next day’s journey. “True or nae, I have nae need of a wife.”

***

The next morning, Madden and Keelin set out on horseback after having bid Braden and Edith farewell. The sisters had exchanged hugs and tears.

“Come back soon,” Edith instructed her sister.

“I will.”

Braden gave his sister-in-law a hug. “We thank ye fer coming tae help with the bairn. It meant a lot tae yer sister.”

“Always,” Keelin replied, giving him a squeeze, then had mounted her horse and rode through the gates.

As they rode out of the castle courtyard, Madden started laughing.

“What are you laughing about?” Keelin asked, sniffling and wiping the tears from her cheeks.

Braden shook his head. “I am nae laughing at ye, Kee. I am laughing at the poor men standing on the ramparts that look like they have been gut punched.”

Keelin looked back at the men that he was referring to. Sure enough, every last one of the men that she had flirted with were standing on guard duty looking as if someone had stolen their favorite horse. Chuckling, she turned back towards the road. “They will recover.”

Braden snorted. “Nae likely.”

They rode on in companionable silence, stopping to take care of the horses’ and their own needs along the way. The journey went blessedly without incident. When night fell, they stopped at a village inn and arranged for two rooms and a meal. When Keelin went to bed early, tired from the ride and emotionally drained from having to leave her sister behind once more, Madden, restless and unable to sleep, went for a walk.

And all he could think about was the mystery woman he was supposed to meet just about… now.

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Chapter One

“By this time tomorrow, ye will be someone else’s problem,” Madden Kinnaird teased his best friend, Keelin Macrae, as she stuffed yet another bannock into her mouth, washing it down with large gulps of ale. She was drawing quite a few stares from the other men in the room, some of judgmental disgust, others of interest. Keelin was a beautiful young woman, but she was not what one might call a lady of delicate sensibilities. “Ye eat like one of the animals in the stable.” He laughed as she kicked him under the table.

“Ye will miss me and ye ken it all tae well,” she retorted, wiping her mouth with a cloth.

They had stopped at an inn for the night to allow the horses to rest and to eat on their way to visit Keelin’s cousin, the Laird Arran MacKay. Keelin had been at Castle Rósmire for the last several months assisting her sister, Edith, with her newborn infant son Teigue. Madden worked as a warrior and advisor for Edith’s husband, the Laird Braden Hamilton, and had been entrusted with Keelin’s care as she returned home to the rest of her family. Along the way, she had requested to visit her cousin Arran. Madden, unable to refuse her anything, had acquiesced.

“Aye, I will at that,” he admitted. His eye was caught by a passing barmaid with an ample bosom and hips that were made for grabbing ahold of. He turned his head, watching her walk away.

“Ye only wish tae be rid o’ me so that ye can go about chasing after loose skirts,” Keelin called him out on his well-known womanizing behavior. “It has nothing tae dae with me table manners, or lack thereof.”

Madden turned his attention back to Keelin. “I cannae rightly be chasing after the lassies when I have ye in tow, now can I? Women tend nae tae want tae kiss me when ye are sitting there giving them yer judgmental glare.”

Keelin laughed. “Good. Perhaps it will keep ye alive longer. Many a wandering cockerel has met his conclusion at the end of a blade.”

Madden shook his head. “I dinnae have me way with married women. Ye ken that.”

“Husbands are nae the only ways that ye could die if ye are letting yer tauger rule yer choices,” she pointed out, raising her brow in judgement. “Ye would nae be near as braw a lad with the pox.”

“Kee!” Madden chastised. “If yer faither and maither heard ye speak with such language, they would have both of our heads.”

Keelin shook her head. “Me family ken how I am well enough. They ken how ye are as well.” She cocked her head to the side studying his face for a moment. “I ken ye are nae as ye were afore ye left fer France. Many a time Braden has said ye are slower tae anger now and more prone tae thinking things through. Ye have changed.”

Madden knew she was right. He nodded in agreement, accepting the compliment. “For the better, I hope,” he murmured, thinking back to all of the pain that had been the catalyst for the changes that he had made.

“Aye fer the most part, ye are better. Yer distrust of any woman that is nae as a sister tae ye, however, is going tae cause ye more trouble than nae,” she warned.

Madden shrugged. “I would give up women altogether, but alas I am nae a monk. A man has his needs.”

Keelin snorted. “Nae, ye are nae a monk tae be certain. Nae a man or woman alive would ever mistake ye fer one.” She gave him a sympathetic look. She did not know everything that had happened in France or why he felt the way that he did about the feminine sex, but she knew that it had to have been something terrible to alter him as it had. “I dinnae expect ye tae be a monk. I simply urge caution when choosing a bed mate.”

Madden nodded. “I have heard ye, Kee, and I thank ye fer the caring o’ me immortal soul.”

Keelin laughed. “I dinnae ken about yer soul, but I would rather have ye among the living as nae. Pox-riddled in a grave is nae a good look fer any man, even one as bonnie as ye.”

Madden made a face. Not wanting to think about France, women, or the pox, he attempted to change the subject. “What about ye? I saw how ye were with the guards at the castle.”

Keelin shook her head, a mischievous light in her eyes. “There is nothing tae ken. Me virtue is intact. I have done nothing tae compromise meself.”

“Keep it that way,” Madden advised, giving her a look of warning. “Ye dinnae want tae be forced tae live yer life with a man that is undeserving o’ ye.”

Keelin cocked her head to the side, her brow raised in question. “And what of ye? The same fate could await ye. Dae ye nae fear getting a woman with child and being forced tae wed her at the point of a blade?”

Madden shook his head. “I will nae wed.”

Keelin frowned at him in concern. “Ye would nae leave a lass tae be dishonored. I ken ye better than that.”

Madden shook his head. “Nae, I would nae abandon her or the child. I would care fer the bairn, but I would nae wed the lass. I would arrange fer her tae wed another more suitable husband and pay the dowry and the bride price.” He knew that it made him sound heartless, but the exact opposite was true. He would not saddle any lass with a loveless marriage. His parents had truly loved one another, and he had sworn to his mother on her death bed that he would not wed for anything less than the truest of loves. As he no longer believed that such a thing was possible for him, he had resolved himself to never marry.

Keelin’s brow wrinkled in concern. She held his eyes in sympathy. “Ye have changed. What happened in France, Madden? Why dae ye never speak about it?”

Madden had known that this conversation was coming. Both Braden and Keelin had been asking a great many questions about his time in France in the year since his return. Neither of them, despite being his dearest friends in all of the world, knew the fullness of his story and it bothered them. He could see the concern in their eyes every time that they asked him about it. He knew that they wanted to help him, to ease the grief of his mother’s passing, but in truth there was nothing that either of them could do.

When his mother had fallen ill, Madden had taken her to a physician in France who was believed to be a miracle worker. While there, he had fallen in love with his mother’s nurse. They had shared a bed together, spoken of a future together. He had planned to wed her, but then had discovered that she was wed to another already and that she had been using him to make her husband jealous. She had shared his bed to get revenge for her husband having been unfaithful to her. Shortly thereafter, Madden’s mother had died. Madden had taken his sorrow and heartbreak out on the enemies of France, working as a mercenary until a near death experience had made him see the light and pushed him to return home.

“Me maither died,” Madden snapped, not wanting to talk about it further. He knew that his voice was harsher than was necessary, but every time that the subject was broached it felt as if he was drowning in the pain all over again. He had worked hard within himself to move on from it as best as he could. He did not appreciate being forced to feel it all again. “What more dae ye want?”

“Madden,” Keelin said his name, her tone was firm but compassionate. “I ken that yer maither died, but the distrust that ye are carrying around with ye was nae caused by yer maither.”

Madden shook his head. “Nae, it is nae. She was a good woman, and I will nae have anyone believe otherwise by me actions or have her memory dishonored.”

Keelin nodded knowingly. “Ye are going tae have tae tell me what happened at some point. Ye cannae live yer life with such pain inside of ye and nae once speak of it tae anyone. It will eat ye alive from the inside.”

Madden sighed. “I am sorry, Kee. I didnae mean tae be rude. I dinnae care tae speak of it.”

“Was there a woman in France? Someone who hurt ye? Someone who was unfaithful?”

Madden looked up at Keelin in surprise. “How did ye ken such a thing?”

She gave him a knowing look. “The distrust that ye brought back with ye could only be born of such a thing.”

Madden looked at Keelin with new admiration. “Ye are wiser than ye look.”

“I will take that as a compliment,” she retorted, giving him a warning look not to argue with her if he had meant it in any other way.

“Ye should,” he nodded, smiling.

“Tell me what happened in France,” Keelin requested, her tone leaving no doubt that she felt it was long past time. “Tell me what happened with this woman.”

Madden sighed but nodded in surrender. He owed her the truth. It was not kind of him to let her fret and worry. “As ye well ken, when me mother was ill, I took her tae see a physician in France,” he began.

“Aye,” Keelin nodded in confirmation.

“While we were there, I formed an attachment tae her nurse.”

“An attachment?” Keelin eyed him inquisitively.

“I fell in love with her,” Madden admitted grudgingly.

Keelin nodded. “So, what happened?”

Madden shrugged his shoulders. “She was married.”

Keelin’s brows arched in censure. “Ye did nae ken?”

“Nae, I did nae ken that she was another man’s wife.” He would have been insulted had it been anyone else but Keelin that had asked. “In fairness, I did nae ask. I simply assumed that when she crawled in tae me bed that she was free tae dae so.”

Keelin gave him a sympathetic look. “Did ye wish tae wed her yerself?”

Madden nodded. “Aye, I did. That is how I discovered that she was wed tae another. Soon thereafter me maither died. I was destroyed and was nae good fer anything but fighting and drinking and whoring me way through France.”

Keelin nodded in understanding. “That is why it took ye so long tae return.”

Madden nodded, sighing. “Aye, I could nae come back tae me life here with how I was feeling. I was destructive tae meself and tae others. It took nearly dying fer me tae see sense and tae return home.”

“I am glad ye did come home, otherwise we would never have met. Ye are a sight better of a companion tae travel with tae escort me home than an auld stodgy guard” Keelin smiled at him in compassionate understanding. “I thank ye fer finally telling me the truth.”

“I would appreciate it if ye kept what I have told ye tae yerself,” he requested, not wishing his pain to be known far and wide. “I will tell Braden about what happened in France, when and if I feel that he needs tae ken it.”

Keelin nodded. “Yer secrets are safe with me, Madden. Ye ken that.”

“Aye, I dae.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “I thank ye fer yer discretion.”

“Always.” She reached over and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Wishing to change the subject, Madden turned the conversation towards Keelin. “Tell me of this cousin of yers.”

Keelin smiled at the thought of her favorite cousin. “Arran is me maither’s first cousin, but they are as close tae one another as braither and sister. They grew up together.”

“Ah, that is why I have heard ye call him Uncle Arran.”

“Aye,” Keelin nodded. “He has been more of an uncle tae me than any other man ever has.”

“I have heard things about the MacKay lairds of the past from yer cousin’s line,” Madden mused. “If their reputation has any truth tae it, they were nae all good men.”

Keelin shook her head. “Arran is a good man, unlike his faither. Ye and Arran both have quite a lot in common. He fought in France as well fer many years. When both of his parents died on the same day, Arran’s sister sent word fer him, and he came home. He has done well fer the clan since becoming laird.”

“How did his parents die?”

Keelin frowned at the memory. “Uncle Rory, Arran’s father, was drunk. He stumbled and fell dragging his wife, me Aunt Ella, down with him. He hit his head on the stone of the hearth landing on top of her as he fell. He died instantly. She died a week later, having never awakened. They were visiting a friend at the time. It was so sudden. We never got tae say goodbye.”

Madden reached out and patted her hand in compassion. “I am sorry fer yer loss.”

Keelin shook her head. “I was never fond of Uncle Rory, but I loved me Aunt Ella very much. She was me maither’s sister, we all miss her.”

Madden nodded in understanding. “I have seen the drink make men dae terrible things.”

“It was a bloody awful waste of a life,” Keelin replied, anger in her eyes.

“What of Arran’s sister? What became of her?”

“She is married tae the laird of her grandmother’s clan. I have nae seen her in years. We exchange the occasional letter, but that is it. We were once quite good friends when we were children. I miss her.”

“Perhaps ye will see each other when we arrive at her braither’s castle.”

Keelin shrugged her shoulders. “I doubt it. From what I have heard, her husband does nae allow her tae visit her braither very often.”

Madden frowned. He did not care for men who were overly controlling of those under their care. “A lass should nae be kept from her family. I saw the effect being estranged from her family had on me maither. She and me faither were not given their families’ blessings tae wed. They tried tae forget one another but they could nae. They married against their families’ wishes and were shunned fer it. That is how they came tae live on Hamilton lands. Me maither loved me faither, and they had a braw life together, but when he died, all of the family that she had left was me. It was nae an easy time fer her.”

“Now she is with yer faither, and they are happy together once more.”

“Aye,” Madden nodded. “They are. They were good people.”

“I am sorry that ye dinnae have a family of yer own.” Keelin gave him a sympathetic look.

Madden shrugged his shoulders. “I dae have family. I have ye, and Braden, and now Edith and their wee bairn.”

“Aye, ye have us,” Keelin smiled, nodding in reassurance. “But I still believe that we should find ye a wife tae make ye wee bairns of yer own.” She lifted a brow wiggling it suggestively. “Perhaps yon barmaid? She had birthing hips.”

Madden shook his head, laughing. “I dinnae believe that the world is ready fer me tae have bairns. Can ye imagine the trouble the wee lads and lassies would get in tae? I dinnae believe it tae be a wise course of action.

Keelin gave him a look of disagreement but did not push him further. “As ye wish. It is yer life.” Stretching, she pushed away from the table and stood. “I am away tae bed.”

“Ye dinnae want tae join me fer a dram?”

Keelin shook her head. “Nae, I am tired tae the bone and wish tae be well rested when we arrive at Arran’s castle. Besides, ye will have better luck in finding a bed partner if ye dinnae have me tagging along.”

Madden gave her a reproachful look. “Ye dinnae behave as a lady is expected tae behave, nor speak as one is expected tae speak.”

Keelin laughed. “I never claimed tae be a lady. The way I behave and speak is why ye adore me as ye dae. I wouldnae be nearly as much fun if I behaved as a proper lady should.”

Madden chuckled. “I cannae deny it.”

“I will see ye in the morning,” Keelin promised. Standing, she laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder, then left the table and climbed the stairs to her room. He watched her until she was out if sight to make certain that none of the other men in the room gave her a hard time. Madden had ensured that she had been given a room with a sturdy bar over the door so that he could rest assured of her safety. His room was next to hers as a secondary means of protection.

Throwing back the last of his ale, he stood and left the inn to go and check on the horses. He eyed the tavern down the street considering his options for a bed companion. The barmaid had been attractive, but she was the innkeeper’s daughter and that could get complicated. He did not wish to be barred from the inn when they were in need of rest. They would most likely need to stay there again on the way through to Keelin’s parents’ lands. If he were being completely honest with himself, he was too tired to be chasing after skirt.

It is tae bad a bonnie lass could nae simply drop in tae me lap as a gift from God without requiring any effort on me part tae bring her tae me bed. He chuckled at the ridiculous image and entered the stables.

After checking on the horses, he made his way around to the side of the building where the innkeeper had placed a table and chairs for his guests. Lowering himself down onto one of them, he leaned back and closed his eyes. The sounds from the inn filtered through the walls, men talking, laughing, and shouting. There were pots and pans banging around in the kitchen. A dog barked in the distance, setting off another dog in response, which set them both to howling. Madden doubted that he would sleep very well. When traveling alone he would usually sleep out in the open, but with Keelin, he had not wanted to risk her safety.

Keelin was a good traveling companion. It had been a trouble-free ride with pleasant conversation. Madden looked forward to meeting her cousin, the Laird Arran MacKay, and exchanging war stories. Keelin had said that they had a lot in common. They had both lost their parents. They had both fought in France. They both cared about Keelin and her family. Madden figured that on those commonalities alone that they could strike up an amiable acquaintance.

Lost in his own thoughts, he did not have any warning when a large lump of warm flesh and fabric came tumbling down from above him and landed hard onto his lap. “Och!” He shouted in protest as his eyes flew open and he came face to face with a dark-haired, grey-eyed lass. Within the next breath, before Madden had a chance to react, she squarely punched him in the face.

“Unhand me!”

Chapter Two

Isabelle Sutherland sat by the hearth reading her favorite book as she distractedly played with her mother’s necklace. From the day that her mother had died, she had never taken it off. It was the only thing that she had left of her. It was her comfort in times of distress, and unfortunately, she was often in distress.

“Isabelle!” She was pulled out of her quiet contemplation by her husband, Bain, as he stormed into the room. “There ye are. I have been looking fer ye.”

“Where else would I be?” she asked. “Ye banished me tae this room upon our arrival.”

Isabelle knew that her tone was not respectful, but he controlled everything about her life and never allowed her to go anywhere or do anything without him or his second in command, Athol, accompanying her. Bain, old enough to be her father, was constantly accusing her of being unfaithful with the younger men of the clan. They had never loved each other, and it showed in their every interaction with one another. Theirs was a marriage of dire necessity and nothing more.

He gave her a warning look, before continuing. “We must leave at first light if we are tae reach yer braither’s stronghold afore dusk. We cannae afford tae stay the night in another inn.”

“We could have slept out in the open and nae paid fer one tae begin with,” she reminded him.

Bain gave her another warning glare. “I will nae have it said that me wife sleeps in the dirt among unwashed men.”

“It would nae have been the first time. I slept out of doors often as a child when me family travelled.”

Bain waved away her logic. “It is of nae consequence. Once I have secured a loan from yer braither, our financial concerns will be brought tae an end.”

“A loan must be paid back. It is a temporary measure at best. It is also possible that me braither will nae loan ye the money. He would never dae anything that might cause his own people tae suffer,” Isabelle pointed out. “Would it nae be better tae admit tae the king and tae the clan that yer business speculations failed and that ye cannae pay yer taxes or provide fer the clan fer the winter?”

Fire flared from Bain’s eyes, and he strode across the room, pulling her up by the wrist. The book that she had been reading clattered to the floor. “Dinnae question me! Yer braither will give me the money, and ye will see that he does, or I will tell him of how yer parents truly died and how ye came tae wed me.”

Isabelle struggled against his grasp to no avail. “It has been eleven years. Will ye ever cease threatening me with blackmail?”

“Nae, I will nae. Speak another word and ye will discover just how true me threats are.” The menacing tone of his voice let her know that he was not to be tested. She closed her mouth and did not say another word, as instructed. With her falling silent, Bain let go of her wrist. Blood rushed back into her hand, causing it to tingle as if she had stuck pins in it. The skin of her wrist was already starting to turn red. “I am going tae the tavern fer a dram with Athol. I have placed a guard outside of yer bedchamber door. Ye are tae remain in this room fer the rest of the night. The innkeeper’s wife will bring ye yer food.”

“Dae ye nae plan tae return?”

Bain laughed. “What would I have reason tae return fer? Why would I choose tae lie with a barren bitch, when there are fertile young lassies at the tavern who I dinnae have tae fight with tae take me intae their beds?”

“I am yer wife. Ye are me husband. Yer whoring shames us both.” Isabelle feared that her brother might hear of Bain’s activities this close to his lands. She did not wish to stand before her brother, having brought such shame to their family name.

Bain snorted. “Ye are nae wife tae me. Were ye a true wife, ye would have produced me an heir. As ye are nae able tae, I must pup a bastard on tae whores in hopes of producing a male heir. The only one shaming us is ye.” Turning, Bain left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Isabelle crossed the room and placed the bar over the door. Neither he, nor any of his men, would be allowed to enter this night. The last thing that she wished to endure before seeing her brother was to have her drunken husband forcing himself upon her. She did not need any more bruises. It was going to be difficult enough to hide the ones that she already had.

Anger surged up within her, threatening to overwhelm her entire being. She despised her husband for all of his abuses. She wished like anything that she could lash out at him in some way, but she had no way of hurting him. He held all of the power in their marriage. The only way that she could even put a dent in his armor would be to cheat on him with another man. Even then, it would only be a wound to his pride, not to his heart.

He would have tae have a heart tae hurt it, and he does nae have one. The only positive outcome of such an action would be me own secret knowledge that I had betrayed him in some small way.

She sighed shaking her head.

What man would I be able tae dae such a thing with? It cannae be one of his own men and I am never around any other. Bain has me guarded night and day.

Isabelle snorted.

Dinnae fool yerself, Isabelle. Ye may be brave, but ye are nae that brave. Ye may nae wish fer yer body tae be possessed by the likes of Bain Sutherland, but ye lack the courage tae surrender yerself tae a strange man simply fer the pleasure of vengeance. Ye are trapped and ye ken it. After all of these years, ye would think that ye would have accepted it by now.

Leaving her book abandoned where it had fallen on the floor, she walked over to the open window and looked out at the starlit night. Reaching up, she clutched her mother’s necklace in her hand. The coolness of the metal and stones against the palm of her hand brought her comfort. She missed her mother so very much each and every day, but it was in moments like this that she missed her the most. If anyone could have understood the pain that she felt in her marriage, it would have been her mother.

Isabelle missed her brother as well, but she could not be around him without feeling guilty for what she had done and for keeping it from him. The thought of facing him after all of these years made her nervous.

The farther away from Arran I am, the better fer him.

The memory of the day her father died flashed through her mind and her hand jerked in an emotional response to the pain and panic that flooded back into her being. To her great dismay, the jerking motion broke free the necklace from her person and she watched in horror as it plunged down into the darkness below. Her hand shot out in an attempt to catch it, but she was too late.

“Nae!” She silently cried out in distress. She could feel the panic and sorrow rising up within her as tears filled her eyes. To her great relief, the necklace came to rest on a lantern hook just below the window.

Leaning out the window, she hung onto the wooden frame as she attempted to retrieve the necklace. She leaned as far as she could, but it was just out of her reach. Unable to regain the necklace while holding onto the frame with her hands, she let go and used her legs to hold onto the windowsill. Unfortunately, her dress got in the way and did not allow her to grab ahold of the frame with enough force to maintain her balance. The moment that her hand was just about to grasp the necklace, her body gave way, and she plunged down into the darkness below.

“Ah!” She cried out in fear as she fell.

She fully expected to land on the hard ground and be injured, but instead she landed right onto the lap of a complete and total stranger. Taken aback and panicking that any moment one of her husband’s men would find her in such a compromising position, she reached out and punched the man square in the face.

“Unhand me!” She demanded with as much authority as she could manage, given her vulnerable position.

The man groaned and then raised his hands as if in surrender. “What were ye doing, lass? If ye wished tae sit on me lap, all ye need dae is ask.”

Isabelle scrambled up off of his lap and put some distance between them. “I was attempting tae retrieve me necklace.” She motioned above his head to where the necklace still dangled from the lantern hook. “I fell out of the window.”

The man stood and turned to look up to where she pointed. “Ye fell from that window?” His brows arched in surprise.

“Aye, I did,” Isabelle admitted, lifting her chin in defiance.

He turned back to look at her. His face was shadowed, and she could not make out his individual features, but his tone left no doubt as to his disapproval. “What were ye thinking? Ye could have fallen and broken yer neck.”

“Ye have nae right tae chastise me,” Isabelle retorted, her pride wounded. “I dinnae ken who ye are, nor dae ye ken who I am. I owe ye nae explanations.”

“Perhaps nae, but ye did fall on me,” he pointed out.

“Fer that I apologize. It was nae me intent. Did I hurt ye when I fell?”

The man shook his head. “Nay, nae too much, I am nae harmed, although that was quite a fall. Good thing ye are as light as a feather. What value does this necklace have that ye would risk yer neck fer it?”

“It was me maither’s,” she explained. The word was hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken meaning.

“I take it that she is nae longer with ye, lass?” His tone had gentled, holding empathy where it had held judgement but a brief moment before.

“She is nae.” Isabelle could feel the tears welling up in her eyes and she tried her best to fight them back. “She died many years ago.”

“I sorrow fer yer loss. I tae lost me maither, and me faither afore that.”

“As did I,” Isabelle admitted.

“So, we are both orphans,” he observed. “God rest their souls.”

They stood there for a moment in shared loss.

“Well, we had best get ye that necklace back.” The man turned back and eyed the distance to the necklace. Stepping up onto the chair he had just been sitting in, he used it to step up onto the table. He tested the table’s stability by wiggling its legs, but it held. “Hand me that chair, would ye, lass?”

Isabelle stepped forward and lifted the chair up onto the table. “Yer are nae going tae climb on that are ye? That does nae look stable,” she cautioned.

“Aye, it is foolish, I will admit, but needs must.” Securing the chair on the table, he turned back to her. “Would ye hold the legs fer me?”

“Aye,” Isabelle agreed, and taking the legs in her hands, she held on tightly. “Be careful,” she warned. She did not wish to be responsible for bringing him, or any other person, to harm.

The man nodded, then climbed up onto the chair. He reached up as high as he could but came short of the lantern hook. Taking in his options, he used the structural elements of the side of the building to scale the wall and retrieved the necklace, whereupon he placed it inside of his shirt to keep it safe. “I have it,” he confirmed to reassure her. “It appears tae be undamaged.” As he was closer to the window than the ground, he climbed up into her room and poked his head back out of the window. “I will meet ye down in the dining room,” he called back down to her.

“Nae!” Isabelle cried out in panic. She knew that Bain’s man would still be standing outside of her bedchamber door. She scrambled for a believable explanation that did not reveal the shame and abuse that she was forced to endure every day. “Are ye mad? Ye cannae be seen coming out of me bedchamber, ye will shatter me reputation.”

“Och, lass. I did nae think. Me apologies. I will come back down.”

“First, help me tae climb up there,” Isabelle instructed. She could not be seen returning to her room either when she had not been seen to leave it to begin with. Her husband would hear of it, and she would never be left alone in her own room again. She would not put it past her husband to bar every window in the castle once they returned home if he discovered what she had done.

“Are ye certain that ye wish tae climb, lass? It isnae as easy as it looks. Could ye nae simply walk around tae the front of the inn? It would be safer fer ye.”

“What would be the fun in that?” Isabelle retorted with a bravado that she did not feel in an attempt to hide her fear of being caught and punished.

She climbed up onto the table, and then onto the chair. She followed the man’s steps exactly, climbing up the side of the building as he had done, careful not to let her dress get in the way. It was far more difficult than it had looked when he had done it. When she finally reached the lantern hook, she could not find any other way to get to the window. The man had simply hefted himself up with his arms, yet she did not possess the upper body strength to do the same. She looked up at him in uncertainty.

“I have ye, lass,” he reassured her, and leaned out of the window. Grabbing her wrists, he hefted her back up into the room. Before she knew what was happening, they fell together into the room onto the floor, Isabelle falling on top of him. Mortified, she scrambled to her feet as quickly as possible, feeling her cheeks warming.

“I thank ye fer yer help. Were it nae fer ye, I might have broken me neck.”

Laughing, the man stood up, shaking his head. “It has been a livelier evening than I expected.” In the light of the fire from the hearth, they could finally see each other without the shadows of the night obscuring their view. His brows arched in surprise as he took her in. “Och, lass, did I hurt ye?” he asked, gesturing towards the bruises on her wrists.

Isabelle shook her head. “It is from the fall,” she lied. She was not about to tell him of the abuses that she endured. He was a total stranger and for all that she knew he could know her husband.

She let her eyes sweep over his form as he looked around the room in curiosity. He was a large mountain of a man, tall, muscular, with long blonde hair tied up into a knot with a leather strap, and dark eyes that threatened to swallow her whole. He was a beautiful Viking of a Highland man. He was so big that he made the room feel entirely too close. Isabelle gulped and turned away to hide the effect that his presence in the suddenly tiny room had on her.

“Are ye well, lass? Did ye hurt yerself elsewhere in the fall?” His concerned voice caused her to turn back towards him.

“A bit perhaps, but I am well,” she reassured him.

“Shall I fetch ye a healer?”

Isabelle shook her head. “Nae, I will be well. Dinnae fash.”

They stood there looking at each other for a moment. Isabelle could feel herself blushing under his gaze.

“Me name is Madden,” he finally introduced himself, breaking the silence.

“Isabelle,” she reciprocated, offering him her hand out of habit.

He took it in his and kissed it. “Me lady,” he murmured against her skin, then raised himself back up to his full height, standing closer than before. He retrieved the necklace from his shirt and handed it to her.

“I owe ye for this,” Isabelle thanked him, taking the necklace. “I am grateful for yer help.”

“How can I refuse a debt of gratitude from such a bonnie lass.” He smiled at her charmingly.

“As I will most likely never see ye again, I dinnae ken how I can repay ye fer yer kindness. I would pay ye coin, but I dinnae have any tae give.” Isabelle looked around the room to see what she might offer him.

“I was considering going tae the tavern fer a dram. Ye could accompany me,” Madden offered.

Isabelle could not do as he asked, but she did not wish to tell him why. “We could have a dram together here. I have a flask in me belongings,” she offered. “But we must be quiet. Me clansmen are resting in the adjacent rooms and could be strolling around”.

Madden smiled wider and nodded in agreement. “Aye, we could at that. And I will be as quiet as a mouse.”

Isabelle motioned for him to take the seat opposite where she had been reading earlier. She listened at the door to make certain that the guard had not heard anything, then ruffled through her belongings to find her flask of medicinal alcohol. Retrieving the flask, she joined him in front of the hearth. Sitting down across from him, she noticed that he had picked her book up off of the floor.

“This is a good one,” he remarked, handing it back to her.

“Aye, it is,” she agreed, smiling. “It is one of me favorites.”

“Dae ye enjoy reading?” he asked with a curious light in his eyes.

“Aye, I dae. I have more books in that bag than I dae clothes,” she admitted motioning towards the bag that she had retrieved the flask from. “I always travel with them.”

Madden smiled, nodding in approval. “I admire a woman of learning.”

Isabelle cocked her head to the side, studying him quietly. She extended him the flask and he took it gratefully.

“What is that look about?” he asked, with an interested light in his eyes.

Isabelle shook her head. “Nae all men admire a woman of learning.”

“Then they are fools,” he shrugged. “What is life without books?”

“Indeed,” she agreed with a smile.

He took a sip from the flask and handed it back to her. Isabelle accepted it and took her own small sip. She handed the flask back to him and decided to put her book back in the bag to keep it from being further abused. When she rejoined him, she found him staring into the flames of the fire as if it held the secrets of the world in its depths. He looked up at her when she approached and smiled apologetically.

“Me apologies.”

Isabelle shook her head. “There is nae need tae apologize. Dae ye wish tae share what had ye so deep in thought?”

He shook his head. “I was just thinking of me time in France. A friend of mine recently drew me mind back tae that time and it has lingered in me thoughts since.”

Isabelle nodded in understanding. “Travel teaches us much about ourselves and life as a whole.”

Madden’s brows lifted in surprise. “Indeed, it does. Have ye traveled much yerself?”

“Nae as much as I would like. I have been tae France, but I was a much younger lass and it was nae fer very long. How was yer time there?”

Madden shook his head. “That is a complicated question.”

“Ye need nae share if ye dinnae wish tae dae so.”

“I went tae France tae find a cure fer me maither, but there was nae cure tae be had. She died before we could return home.”

“I am sorry.”

He nodded in acceptance of her condolences. “After she died, I lost meself fer a time in war and women.”

“The king of distractions.” She gave him an understanding look.

Madden nodded. “Aye, the king of distractions indeed. It took nearly dying meself fer me tae realize that I needed tae change me ways, and so I did. I have been back home fer about a year now and I ken without a doubt that it was the right thing tae dae.”

“Well, fer me sake, I am glad that ye returned. Had ye nae helped me, I dinnae ken what would have happened.”

“Ye would have broken yer neck, that is what would have happened.” He studied her face for a moment. “I ken what I want in payment fer my help.”

Isabelle chuckled. “Once a mercenary, always a mercenary.”

He grunted at her jest as if he was not quite certain what to think about it.

She gave him an apologetic look. “What is it that ye wish fer?”

“A kiss.” He said it so nonchalantly that she thought she had heard him wrong.

“A what?”

“A kiss,” he repeated. “In payment fer saving yer life, I would like fer ye tae kiss me.”

“Why?” She asked dazed.

“Ye are a bonnie lass whose company I enjoy. Why would I nae wish tae kiss ye?”

Isabelle shook her head. “Nae, I will nae kiss ye. I dinnae ken ye well enough tae share something so intimate.”

Madden snorted. “A kiss is nae intimate. I have kissed many strangers.”

“That I dinnae doubt,” she retorted.

“Kiss me,” he murmured, as he drew her chair towards him across the floor.

“Nay,” she shook her head.

“Why nae? Dae ye find me tae be repugnant? Or me character tae be displeasing?”

Isabelle shook her head. “Nae, I dinnae.”

“Then why dae ye nae wish tae kiss me?”

Isabelle did want to kiss him. It was her husband that was the problem, but she was not about to tell a complete and total stranger that. She searched her mind for an excuse, any excuse but the real one. She came up with nothing. She wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss her. She thought back to her notion of revenge against her husband by cheating on him with another man and all sense of resistance left her spirit.

“I want tae kiss ye,” she admitted, blushing as she did so.

A smile spread across Madden’s face. He stood up, pulling her up out of her chair to stand in front of him. Reaching up, he brushed the hair back from her face, cupping her cheek gently. His eyes met hers and she nodded her consent. Lowering his head, he brushed his lips against hers gently at first, then with more intensity. Isabelle, never having been kissed in such a caring manner, became lost in the sensation, and leaned into him, kissing him back with equal fervor and passion. Her nails dug into his shoulders, as her body pressed against the hardened length of his manhood. It was as if a feral spirit had taken over her body.

His lips moved to her neck, throat, and then down to her breasts. Isabelle threaded her fingers through his hair, pressing his head closer. His palm reached up to cup her breasts, his thumb running over the hardened peek, driving her body into a frenzy. “Oh,” she gasped, her breath coming quickly as she pulled his head back up to kiss her lips. Their tongues danced around each other, mimicking what their bodies truly craved. Isabelle moved her hips in a gyrating motion against his hardened length, showing him what she needed.

“Och, lass, if ye want me tae stop, ye had best tell me now,” Madden groaned, his forehead leaning against hers. His breath came quickly showing her that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

“I dinnae want ye tae stop,” she answered, leaning her head back to look him in the eyes. “Dinnae stop.”

That was all of the encouragement that he needed. Lifting her up into his arms, he carried her over to the bed. Setting her down upon the edge, he took a step back and removed his shirt. The room was too dimly lit to make out every detail, but no amount of darkness could have hidden the sheer masculine power of his body. Madden’s chest, shoulders, arms, and abdomen were pure defined muscle. He stepped back towards her and she reached out to run her hands over the exposed skin.

“It is yer turn,” he murmured with a smile.

Isabelle looked up into his eyes, then lifted her arms. Grasping her dress by the skirt, he pulled upwards and lifted it up over her head. He let it fall to the floor, leaving her standing in nothing but her shift. Lowering his head, he kissed each breast, rasping each nipple gently with his teeth through the thin fabric. Ripples of pleasure spread over Isabelle’s body. Kissing his way back up to her lips, he caressed her, then pulled her shift up over her head and let it fall to the floor with her dress.

Taking a step back, he let his eyes travel the length of her body. Isabelle worried about him seeing the bruises, but when she looked down at herself, she was relieved to see that the dimness of the fire’s light covered them, casting them in shadow. “Bonnie,” he breathed, as he let the rest of his clothing fall to the floor and stood in front of her in all of his naked glory.

Isabelle’s eyes widened at the size of his hardened manhood standing erect in the air between them. “Ye are a braw lad tae be sure,” she replied breathily.

He grinned at her, then stepped forward and lifted her up into his arms, laying her down on the bed.

Placing his body over hers, he reclaimed her lips. Isabelle could feel the tip of him pressed against the inside of her thigh and she moved her hips, pressing harder against it. His shaft jerked in reply, coming to nestle against the soft curls of her nether hair. Madden’s head lowered from her lips down to her breasts. He licked and suckled each nipple in turn, driving her into a frenzy of madness as she clutched his head.

“Madden,” she breathed.

“Dae ye wish fer me tae stop?”

“Nae, dinnae stop!”

Smiling, he lowered his head to her breasts once more, then continued to kiss his way down to her nether curls. Flicking his tongue out between her lower lips, he caressed the hidden pearl within. Isabelle nearly came off of the bed. She clutched at his shoulders, digging her fingers into his muscles as he began to stroke the length of her cunt with his tongue, then sucked the bud into his mouth as he had done her nipples. He circled his tongue around it again and again, then pressed it inside her, only to move back to circling it. When he felt her legs quivering uncontrollably and she started moaning his name he stopped.

“Madden, I need ye,” she breathed, panting.

Coming up to hover over her once more, Madden looked deep into her eyes. He wanted to be inside her when she fell over the edge, but he had to ascertain something beforehand. “Are ye a virgin, lass?”

She shook her head. “I am nae a virgin,” Isabelle answered honestly.

He nodded. There was no judgement in his face. “Good, I didnae wish tae take that from ye or cause ye pain.”

“I am nae a virgin, but what experiences I have had have nae been pleasant,” she admitted. “It has never once been pleasurable.”

“We will be changing that this night,” Madden replied, caressing her cheek with the back of his fingers. “Two people lying together in this way should always be pleasurable.”

Having ensured that he would not cause her pain, he thrust his manhood into her, filling her in a single stroke.

Isabelle gasped at the sudden wave of sensation that coursed through her as he began to move inside of her. He reclaimed her lips as he kept thrusting inside of her, using one of his hands to hold himself up, while the other hand teased her nipples. The myriad of sensations caused Isabelle’s head to spin. She had never felt so much pleasure in her entire life.

“I didnae ken that it could feel this way,” she gasped against his lips.

“Just wait,” he breathed in promise as he began to move faster inside of her. As he picked up speed, the feelings inside of Isabelle grew and grew until she feared she might explode.

“Madden!” she started to cry out his name, and quickly covered her mouth. She knew that she needed something from him, but not what. Within the next moment, Isabelle fell over the cliff of pleasure into blissful oblivion.

Madden followed after her, spilling his seed deep inside of her, not able to stop himself. “Isabelle,” he breathed, leaning his forehead against hers as he emptied himself into her. Removing himself from her, he laid down on the bed beside her, drawing her into his arms. “How dae ye feel, lass?”

“Good,” Isabelle answered with a pleased smile. “I didnae ken that it could feel that way.”

“It should always feel that way,” he murmured, kissing her forehead. “It saddens me that ye have nae been pleasured as ye should have been.” He did not ask any questions about who she had been with or why, he simply accepted her as she was.

“Is it always this way fer ye?”

Madden lay in thought for a moment, then shook his head. “It is always pleasurable, but being with ye was better than most.”

Isabelle felt some small amount of pleasure at his words. “Thank ye,” she whispered.

Madden looked down into her face, his eyes meeting hers. “Ye should be pleasured every day of yer life. A lass such as ye should never be forced tae bed a stranger tae find pleasure. It is I who should thank ye fer the honor of having shared yer bed, and I dae,” he murmured lowering his head to kiss her softly.

Isabelle kissed him back, softly, sweetly. A sound from outside of the door reminded her that they were not truly alone. She wished like anything that he could stay there with her through the night, but she knew that he could not. “I am sorry, but ye must go,” she whispered.

He nodded in understanding. Rising from the bed, he retrieved his clothing from the floor. Once he was dressed, he bent over the bed and kissed her one last time. “Ye are bonnie in every way.” He moved towards the door and panic seized Isabelle’s heart.

“Ye cannae go through the door,” she reminded him. “Me fellow clansmen would be certain tae see ye.”

Madden nodded in understanding, then moved back towards the window. “I would nae wish tae be responsible fer ruining yer reputation.”

Sighing in relief, Isabelle arose from the bed, donning her shift. Walking over to the window, she bid him a final farewell. “Go carefully,” she advised, as he lowered himself over the side of the window and found a foothold on the wall. Isabelle watched as he made his way back down to the table and chairs below, then dismounted to the ground. Raising his hand in farewell, he smiled up at her one last time, then disappeared into the darkness leaving nothing but the memory of himself and the throbbing between her legs.

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“Let me be yer lady’s maid,” Odhrán jested, needing no second bidding. He was in a state of blissful excitement, his erection pressing urgently against the front of his trews as if it would burst free at any moment. The way Maddison was looking at him with such frank desire, her lips swollen with his kisses, hair tumbling wildly over her shoulders, was fueling his lust. His eagerness to get her naked had him eagerly undoing the fastenings of her dress, humming a happy little tune as he did so.

“Ye sound like a man who’s enjoyin’ his work,” she said teasingly, smiling at him over her shoulder.

“Och, I am, I surely am,” he said, immersing himself in the erotic experience of peeling her gown away so that it slipped down from her shoulders, revealing the soft white expanse of skin hidden there. “Yer skin is so lovely, Maddison, so white and pure,” he marveled, breathing deeply to control his ardor, his fingertips gently brushing her back and neck with wonder.

His excitement increased when he felt her shiver against him in obvious arousal, and he hardened further to feel how her whole body seemed to thrill at his slightest touch. Her floral scent filled his nostrils, adding another dizzyingly sensual element to the experience for him. With a sharp breath, he pushed her hair aside and pressed his mouth to the soft nape of her neck, sucking and nuzzling her warm skin, his teeth grazing her in soft, playful bites.

“D’ye ken, ye’re the only man who has ever seen me like this?” she whispered, moaning as he trailed tiny kisses across her skin, to his intense gratification.

“Good. That’s as it should be,” he breathed in her ear, wanting to make his mark on her. “This is mine, all mine.” Closing his eyes in bliss, he reached around and cupped her naked breasts, squeezing and rolling them luxuriously in his palms. They fitted there perfectly, and he savored the wonderful feeling as his fingers toyed with her hardened peaks, sending fresh shivers of anticipation running through his body. He thrilled to feel her trembling as she lay back against his chest, gasping under his teasing caresses. He struggled to keep the demands of his body in control as his senses reeled, almost overwhelmed by both her beauty and her state of wanton abandon. The throbbing between his legs was growing more insistent.

I need tae get her out of her clothes! I have tae have all of her…

“Och, Odhrán, ye make me feel so good,” she breathed raggedly, covering his hands with her own, encouraging him to continue fondling breasts and ravish her neck.

“Mmm, I could eat ye all up,” Odhrán murmured, nuzzling her neck hungrily as if preparing to carry out his threat.

“Och, I wish ye would, Odhrán,” she sighed, making him smile and double his caresses. With a low grunt of satisfaction, he lifted Maddison up slightly. Her gown fell loosely about her shapely hips, revealing the exquisite architecture of her waist. The sinuous curves stirred something primal deep in his belly. It was almost painful to have to contain himself, but he wanted to savor every part of her, and every second of their intimacy.

“Ye’re so delicious, Maddy, so beautiful. I cannae believe ye’re mine,” he whispered, taking deep, ragged breaths to contain his lust.

“Please, dinnae stop,” she begged him, “I cannae get enough of what ye dae tae me.”

“I’m never gonnae stop, unless ye make me,” he murmured, unlacing her stays with lascivious determination. When he had loosened them enough, she willingly lifted her arms so he could pull them over her head before untying her petticoat strings. Odhran watched with greedy eyes while she wriggled out of the them and turned to face him. Entirely naked now, her teasing smile and smoky gray eyes filled with lust, she reached for him.

“Stay, let me look at ye, I want tae feast me eyes on ye,” he murmured, his erection huge and butting against her as he gently held her back by her arms. She obeyed, eyes molten, her tongue wetting her lips in expectation, while Odhrán allowed his eyes to rove freely over the pale, perfect symmetry that lay before him.

Transfixed, with both hands, he traced the globes of her breasts and the graceful indent of her waist, then the twin curve of her hips, letting out a low whistle, dazzled afresh by her beauty. The fight to control himself ramped up a notch, and an involuntary groan burst from his lips, dazed as he was by his passion for her.

“I still think I must be dreamin’, Maddy. I’ve had so many dreams about ye like this, it hardly seems real. Ye’re far more beautiful than I could ever have dreamed.” He buried his face in her breasts with a groan, his hands blindly roving over the beguiling curves of body in rapturous delight. He allowed the fingertips of one hand to slide over the firm roundness of her behind, then between her thighs, hungry to part her intricate folds and stroke her there for her pleasure.

“Odhrán!” she cried out, writhing helplessly under his touch.

“Och, ye’re burnin’,” he whispered in her ear, delving into the slick warmth of her swollen sex, his passion flaring. How he did not simply leap on her and ravish her then and there he hardly knew. But seeing her like this, begging for his touch, her usual neat composure shattered… to know he was responsible for reducing her to this state… it was as if, against all the odds, Maddison was made for him and he for her.

“I want ye so much,” she moaned, opening her legs further when his questing fingertips found her rosebud, teasing it, rubbing it with his thumb. Reveling in her ecstatic response but intent on taking her higher still, he parted her moist folds and stroked her entrance. “Och, ye’re so ready fer me, so wet,” he groaned, still more inflamed by the fact she wanted him so badly.

“Ah, Odhrán, touch me there, ah yes! More, please,” she panted, driving him almost over the edge of his control as she shifted slightly and straddled his lap, opening herself wider still.

“D’ye want me now?” he asked, making her gasp as his fingers penetrated her soaking entrance, one at first, sliding in easily, sending a jolt through her body and making her gasp aloud. When he added two more and began slowly, rhythmically, moving them in and out while strumming her bud with his thumb, the series of small, mewling cries that fell from her lips and the shuddering of her body made him frantic to plunge inside her and satisfy his lust. But he held back, determined to put her pleasure before his.

“I want ye so bad, I cannae wait much longer,” she panted, moving her body to match the rhythm of his fingers, thrilling Odhrán as she wrapped her hands in his hair and covered his face and mouth and chest with passionate kisses, bites, and caresses. Loving every moment, he continued to toy with her, watching her flushed face in delighted fascination.

“D’ye remember, Odhrán, ye asked me if I ever thought of ye this way after I was set free from here and went back tae me family?” she suddenly asked him, her breathing shallow and uneven as she rode his hand.

“Aye, I remember. And ye got angry with me and told me that this would never happen again,” he murmured, nuzzling her breasts, his fingers probing her more deeply.

“Ah, ah! That was because I did nae wantae admit that I did think of ye. I did nae want tae admit it, even tae mesel’,” she panted as he sucked and nuzzled at her hardened peaks. “But I did think of ye. Often. Every day. Every night. I tried nae tae, but I couldnae help it. I’d come tae care fer ye. And when I found out who ye were, and that ye’d lied tae me, I was so hurt I wanted tae die.” She bucked against his probing more frantically. “This is the first time I have ever spoken this truth, even to mesel’.”

Awash with furious passion, with one arm, Odhrán crushed her to him, ravaging her mouth, adding another finger and plunging deeper inside her.

“I’m so in love with ye, Maddison, it hurts,” he growled. “Thank ye fer tellin’ me the truth. Ye dinnae ken how happy it makes me tae hear ye say that.” His fingers hit a spot that made her moan loudly, and her whole body shivered against his. The quivering of her soft flesh was so exciting to him, it made it even more difficult not to simply dive into her. His erection was rock hard and throbbing, craving the deliciously snug harbor of her sex. With an extreme effort of will, he continued to hold himself back.

“It means everythin’ tae me tae ken ye were thinkin’ about me, even if it was bad things. I ken I deserved it,” he confessed hoarsely, kissing her back hungrily,

“But ye didnae deserve it,” she whispered into his mouth, clinging to him as she rose and fell against his hand. “I was wrong. I didnae ken who ye really were. I thought ye were like yer faither, though I kent ye couldnae be, because of all ye did fer me, tae keep me alive.” She clutched him to her, and Odhrán sensed her muscles tightening around his fingers, knowing the waves of ecstasy must be starting to overwhelm her. Eager to bring her to her peak, he rammed his fingers into her faster and faster, pinning her in place with his other hand on her waist, watching excitedly as she writhed and moaned against him, clearly approaching her climax.

“Ye even killed yer faither fer me,” she gasped out, holding him tightly as her body stiffened and she let out a series of loud cried as she bucked against him in the intensity of her pleasure. Odhrán’s heart swelled once more with pride to be the man who could make her lose control this way by delivering such blissful release. Now, he could seek his own.

“I’d kill that bastard a thousand times over fer ye, Maddy,” he whispered fiercely in her ear, holding her close as she recovered from her ecstasy, his ardor almost at boiling point. “And any other bastard that tries tae take ye from me.”

“Nae one is ever gonnae take me from ye, Odhrán,” she panted, reaching for the fastenings of his trews and almost tearing them aside with a greedy enthusiasm that made the fire within him burn higher still. She flung them open, allowing his manhood bursting forth from its nest of hair, tall and proud.

“Ooh, it that all fer me?” she asked coquettishly, taking his shaft in her hands and bending to run her tongue up and down its length.

“For ye and ye alone, me lady,” Odhrán said, groaning, his lust finally overwhelming him. He grabbed her around the waist, pulled her forward, and slowly impaled her on his length. She gave a satisfying gasp as he speared her, filling her to the hilt. To be inside her, held tightly by her hot, slick walls felt… exquisite. Lost in the sensation, for some time, he did not move, only stared into Maddison’s eyes as they kissed leisurely.

“I have tae tell ye the truth about somethin’ too,” he told her, lifting her by the hips and then thrusting deeply into her again with a satisfied grunt.

“Ach! Odhrán!” she cried out, sinking down on him with a moan, nipping his lip with her teeth. “I never kent it could feel this way.”

“Me neither,” he admitted, brushing the sweat-soaked hair from her flushed face and marveling again at her incredible beauty. It was the truth. He had had his fair share of sexual dalliances in the past, and at the time, he had thought himself well enough satisfied. Romantic love had been something he had dismissed out of hand, hardly believing it existed. Love for or with a woman had been something that simply did not feature in his thoughts. Until Maddison.

Maddison had changed everything, turned his life upside down. She had always been special. From the first, as his father’s prisoner, she had elicited feelings he could hardly credit owning. The love he had discovered within him had been a secret torment, eating away at him, even after their marriage. He had resigned himself to never winning her affection, let alone her love.

But now, the woman he adored, who had sworn to hate him, was unashamedly offering him her body, begging for him to do all the things to her he had been secretly dreaming of for so long. Inexperienced as she was, she was taking him to heights of physical passion that shook the foundations of his world. The feeling of being home at last, of being right where he belonged, was as dizzying as it was fulfilling. He wanted it to last forever.

Their intimacy encouraged him to unburden his heart to her. “Maddy, I want tae tell ye somethin’.”

“Tell me,” she said softly, moving slowly upon him, her inner muscles gripping him tantalizingly.

With a groan, willfully delaying his gratification, he said, “Well, after me faither died, I found a letter, from me faither tae Rollo. I saw it first.” He buried his face in Maddison’s breasts as he pulled out of her, then thrust into her heat again, burying himself deeply inside her, so that she fell against him and moaned against his lips.

“Me faither was obsessed with destroyin’ yer clan. He was betrothed tae yer maither once, but she fell in love with yer faither and ran away with him. Me faither never forgave her. In the letter, he said he wanted Rollo tae carry on his work of destruction after his death. I could nae stand the thought of ye being in danger, nor yer family. The only way tae protect ye was tae have ye close.”

“And the only way ye could have me close was tae marry me,” she murmured, looking in his eyes as again, she rose up and then back down upon his shaft. She was moving faster now, her velvety interior yielding to him yet at the same time holding him tightly, sending waves of bliss rushing through him with every motion.

“Right,” he muttered, unable to resist the urge to quicken his thrusts to match hers, while savoring the way her breasts were bouncing against his face. “And I kent ye’d never agree tae wed me. So, I went tae see the King.”

They were both panting hard now and hanging on to each other as if for dear life, kissing, sucking, biting any naked flesh they could find as they labored together in search of blissful release. Odhrán relished the thought that just as she was bringing him to the peak of ecstasy, he was doing the same to her. That sent him over the edge, and he gave in to his primal need for her.

“Och, God, Odhrán, Odhrán!” she cried out frantically as he groaned and stiffened inside her, his senses overwhelmed. They came together in a great, shuddering rush, clinging to each other.

“Maddy, me Maddy!” Odhrán could not help crying out in his frenzy, his hands tangling in her glorious hair as she fell against him, spent.

They lay together, covered in sweat, regaining their breath. To Odhrán, the room seemed to spin around them, and the air shimmered and danced. His body was completely sated. With Maddison, he had gained the pinnacle of physical satisfaction which he knew nothing could ever equal. He realized that he finally understood what it meant to make love to someone with your heart, your body, and your soul.

God, please, let me have this one thing. Let her nae be taken from me.

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