How to Handle a Highlander (Hot Highlanders) (20 page)

An end to the threat Bari Fraser represented.

***

MacLeod land

“Ye made no mention of locking me up again.”

Sandra paced back and forth when Gahan and Saer went to fetch her.

“Ye cannae expect freedom,” Gahan said.

Sandra tossed her auburn hair and fluttered her eyelashes. “That’s what ye promised me,” she said in a soft, delicate voice. The woman appeared fragile and forlorn, but Gahan knew she was no victim. He had seen his father at death’s door by her doing. The woman was a menace.

“Ye were promised freedom
from
Dunrobin
in exchange for playing a happy bride-to-be,” he said.

“Oh, aye.” Sandra shifted her attention to Saer. She pouted. “It is going to be a bit of a chore. Ye are a savage.”

Saer didn’t take offense. He grinned at her. “One who will take delight in choking the life out of ye if ye try yer hand at betraying us. Among the savages on the isles, gender does nae protect the guilty from justice.”

Sandra looked uncertain for a moment, but she controlled her expression quickly. She reached up to finger her unbound hair. It was brushed out and shimmering down her back. Fresh spring greens crowned her head in a delicate wreath. Her robes were of green and yellow, befitting a bride.

“I have dressed to please,” she said.

“Aye, ye look the part,” Gahan agreed. “Now make sure ye play it. One false word, and I’ll do what me kin wanted me to do.”

Sandra didn’t look frightened or even worried. She brushed by him, fluttering her eyelashes and trailing her fingertips across his chest. “I told ye I would be of use to ye, Gahan Sutherland.”

She treated Saer to the same then exited the chamber with a rustle of her skirts.

“That’s an evil female,” Saer said. “She’ll nae do anything for us without trying to get what she wishes. It’s clear she is guilty of trying to kill yer father.”

“She is, and she’s unrepentant. But something kept me from ordering her to be hanged.”

“Now ye know what that was,” Saer said. “Fate works her will on us all.”

Saer followed Sandra down the stairs, leaving Gahan to ponder what he’d said. Was Sandra alive because fate was intervening? That seemed rather far-fetched. He’d always lived his life by the understanding that he made his way in the world through his actions and will.

Tonight would be no different. He descended to the chamber below where Cam was waiting. Steam rose from a basin, and Cam was making sure a blade was sharp. Gahan sat down and let his half brother shave him clean. Next, Cam worked on his hair. Once he was satisfied, Gahan stood up and stripped out of his Sutherland plaid. For the first time in his life, he put on a kilt from a clan other than his father’s.

There were men who would call him a dishonorable wretch for doing it. He didn’t care. Determination was blazing in his gut. The means didn’t concern him, only the victory.

***

“My sweet little sister.”

Moira stood stunned in the Great Hall of MacLeod Tower. Sandra swept toward her with a bright smile on her lips. Gooseflesh rose on Moira’s arms; it was like a ghost had materialized. Even knowing she was going to see Sandra hadn’t really driven home the fact that she was alive.

Sandra hugged her while Moira remained caught in her shock.

“Ye clean up decently after all. Bari was wise to see the possibility,” Sandra whispered in her ear before backing away to bestow a bright smile on Achaius. “Ye must be me brother-by-marriage.” She lowered herself prettily.

Saer MacLeod held out his hand, and Sandra went toward him. The head table was soon full, and the meal began. There was music, and Sandra made a charming picture as she smiled sweetly and praised the musicians. She reached for Saer’s hand from time to time, stroking one fingertip along the top of his hand. The intimate gesture wasn’t lost on anyone.

But the bells on the tower walls began to ring. Saer held up his hand for silence, and two retainers ran down the center aisle.

“Frasers are at the gate, demanding entrance, Laird.”

“Me brother!” Sandra exclaimed. “How lovely. Ye would nae make him spend the night outside the gate.”

Saer MacLeod looked like he was contemplating just that, but he relented. “Allow Laird Fraser in with his men. No swords.”

“What Highlander worth his plaid gives up his sword?” Sandra demanded.

Saer shot her a hard look. “Anyone who wants to enter me tower.”

They heard the groaning of the gate as it was lifted. It took only a few moments before Bari was striding into the hall. He was covered in dirt, and his chin sported a two-day’s growth of beard. He froze at the entrance of the hall, staring at Sandra for a long moment. She pushed her chair back and ran to meet him. Bari hugged her close, but Saer followed his bride and offered Bari his hand.

Bari clearly wasn’t pleased having his reunion with Sandra interrupted. But he clasped the wrist offered to him.

“I’m happy to see ye will be able to attend our wedding tomorrow, Laird Fraser.”

“Thank Christ ye are nae wed yet.”

Saer stepped back. “Did ye come here to object?”

“Of course I did!” Bari shouted. “How long have ye known me sister was alive?”

“I never knew she was dead,” Saer replied.

Bari was taken aback. He looked like he wanted to argue, but held his tongue. “I suppose that’s true.”

“Ye suppose?” Saer asked. “Ye can take yerself out the gate I raised for ye if ye plan to insult me by questioning me word.”

Bari hurried to smooth over his host’s ruffled feathers. “I do nae doubt yer word. I meant I had forgotten how newly arrived ye are here.”

“It’s been a year, man.”

“An entire year,” Sandra confirmed. Her gaze locked with Bari’s, and his eyes narrowed.

“Mind yer outbursts, and we’ll get on well enough.” Saer turned to move back to the head table.

“Laird MacLeod, we have no formal agreement for me sister, and I have other offers for her. I ask to depart with her,” Bari said.

Saer turned to face off with Bari. He stood half a foot taller than her brother and looked far harder. “ I invited ye here for a wedding because she is yer sister. If ye are nae here for the celebration, ye made a long trip for naught. No one will be telling me what to do on me own land.”

There were several answering grunts from the MacLeod retainers.

“Ye’re wedding her without a dowry?” Bari inquired suspiciously.

“She’s heir to the Fraser clan. And I hear rumors ye’re making ready to feud with the Sutherlands. Since ye have done naught to produce an heir of your own, once ye’re gone, our son will inherit everything.” Saer captured Sandra’s wrist and pulled her along with him toward the table. “That’s gain enough for me.”

“That was promised to me when I wed Moira,” Achaius said through gritted teeth. Everyone turned to look at Achaius. The old man was furious.

“Sandra is the elder sister,” Saer replied. “Who told ye she was dead?”

“Those bastard Sutherlands,” Bari raged.

Saer slammed a fist on the table.

“The Sutherlands are me overlord. No man shall sully their name beneath me roof.” He turned to face Achaius. “It does nae matter what ye thought. Sandra is the elder sister. Her blood inherits,” Saer stated. “The evening is ended.”

The musicians stood and lowered themselves, then left. The men and women who had been sitting at the lower tables began to leave the hall. Maids started clearing the tables and pinching out the candles. The hall was no longer bright, merely light enough so cleaning might be done.

Saer left, taking Sandra with him. She cast a long look back at her brother before disappearing into the passageway.

“Take yer mistress upstairs,” Achaius ordered two of his men.

“I’ll take her,” Kael Grant offered in a low tone. “I would nae see ye leave yer back unguarded with the way young Fraser is glaring at ye.”

“Ye have me thanks,” Achaius said.

Kael pulled Moira’s chair back for her. One look at his face made it clear staying wasn’t an option. Her temper heated in response to the expectation in his eyes.

Let them fight. She was sick of their pettiness.

At least the hallways were quiet, but very few lanterns were left burning. The MacLeods were still recovering from being raided after their last laird followed the defeated King James III at the battle of Sauchieburn against his son. It had divided Scotland, which made it vital for men like the Earl of Sutherland to maintain alliances.

***

Gahan waited for Moira to pass him by. The passageways were cloaked in deep shadows, granting him all the shelter he needed. Kael slowed his step, allowing her to lengthen the space between them. Once Moira’s foot landed on the first step, Kael offered Gahan his hand. Gahan clasped his wrist before changing places with him. Moira never looked behind her and Gahan kept his chin down. He was taller than Kael but in the darkened stairway, he hoped the retainers wouldn’t look too closely.

***

Two Matheson retainers stood outside the door of the chamber Saer’s head of house had shown her to for the night. They tugged on the corner of their caps for Kael. But they left quickly when they realized their laird wasn’t with Moira. She turned and lowered herself.

“Thank ye—” The words froze on her lips when she looked at the face of the man beside her. He swept her inside the room and shut the door as she struggled to believe what was right in front of her.

“Ye shaved yer beard.” He shrugged as she continued to look him over. “And ye’re wearing the wrong colors, Gahan Sutherland.”

“So are ye, Moira, for ye are nae Lady Matheson.”

She began to reach for him but pulled her hand back. “Why are ye here?”

His gaze cut through the doubts clouding her thinking.

“I’m here for ye, Moira. Do nae think ye can tell me ye love me and then expect never to see me again.”

“Ye would nae be the first man who cared little for affection from a woman ye’ve already had.”

He grasped her wrist and tugged her into his embrace. “I do nae think a lifetime will be long enough for me to say I’ve had me fill of ye. Do ye think I’d wear the colors of another clan for any reason beyond love?”

She sighed, because it really felt like she belonged there in his arms. Tears flooded her eyes, and her knees felt weak. She flattened her hands against his chest and smoothed her fingers over the ridges of muscles. She felt his heart beat and buried her face against his chest to muffle a sob.

He held her head and kissed it. He tightened his arms around her as though he might never let her go.

“But…it’s impossible.”

“Nay, it is nae. Defeat is nae a word I know.”

He stroked her cheek then lowered his face to seal her lips with his. It was a sweet meeting of mouths, a slow reunion that stole her breath. He teased her lips, tracing their delicate surfaces with his lips, then began using his tongue to taste her. She reached for him, needing to hold him. The kiss changed as she moved, passion taking root inside her. It was blistering hot and sprang up in an inferno that could not be tamed.

But she didn’t want to control it. All she wanted was Gahan.

“I cannae be near ye without wanting ye,” he whispered.

They weren’t polished words, but she found them more complimentary than any she’d heard. The rough timbre of his voice betrayed a need that matched the one eating at her. She wanted to steal the moment. Ensure it was not wasted. She reached down, rubbing her hand along his thigh to the hem of his kilt. Her fingertips found bare skin, and she drew her hand up and along the inside of his thigh.

“Moira…”

She lifted her chin. “Ye cannae expect me to temper me passion when all we have ever had is stolen moments.”

“A fact I plan to change.”

She stopped just short of touching the sac that hung beneath his member. “I see…Should I behave meself?”

“I hope not.” His teeth were bared, and his lips pulled back farther when she stroked the skin enclosing his seed. “I think I’d beg ye nae to.”

“Ye are nae a man who begs.”

“I’m willing to make an exception for ye.”

She made it to his staff and drew her fingers up its length. He closed his eyes for a moment, pleasure taking command of his features. It was a savage sort of delight, primal and hard. Yet it stroked the part of her that enjoyed his touch. The creature she’d never suspected lived inside her, just waiting for the right touch to awaken it.

She was fully aroused now, the flames of passion burning hotter. He pressed a kiss against her neck and then another, then groaned.

“I promise, the next time I have ye, nothing will tear me away.”

He lifted her up and pinned her against the wall. She clasped his hips and pulled him toward her. There was no thinking, no contemplating, no intrusion from her common sense at all.

There was only Gahan. It felt like it had been months since she’d had him. Her body filled with delight and rushed toward climax. It was over too soon, frustrating both of them. Gahan let her down, turning her around and hugging her tight. He leaned against the wall, and she found his embrace far preferable to the bed waiting inside the chamber. The bed would be cold and lonely. The shadows offered her the warm embrace of her lover. Yet it was dangerous.

“Ye must go.” She tried to push the arm around her waist aside. “I still have a husband.”

“Do nae call him that. He never consummated the union. This is the Highlands,” Gahan insisted. “No man takes a wife he cannae use.”

It was blunt, but she appreciated the sound of it.

Ye’re just hearing what ye want to…

And believing such things might get Gahan killed.

“He will never admit to it, and his men will run ye through if ye are discovered here.”

His arms tightened for a moment, then he kissed the top of her head and inhaled the scent of her hair. In spite of the satisfaction still glowing in her belly, she felt the stir of renewed need. He released her.

“Ye’re right, but I plan to put an end to this tonight.” He moved over to a table and picked up a sack. “These are for ye.”

He pulled a pair of boots from the bag and set them on the table.