Highland Song (10 page)

He was a sweet, gentle man with the face of an angel and a body that stole her breath.

“
Don’t ye need a break by now?” she asked.

“
Nay!” He refused to look up and Cat giggled softly. “I’m not tired,” he persisted.

She scooted around the lip of the pit so that he had no choice but to acknowledge her, and crossed her legs, knowing full well that his view was quite telling from down there. “Aren’t ye hungry?” she asked him as seductively as she knew how.

He paused suddenly, leaning on his shovel, and peered up at her, swallowing as his eyes lit upon the moon of her arse… and the other secrets displayed for his eyes alone. He licked his lips and Cat felt like leaping down into the pit and kissing him furiously. Soon, she would have no choice but to leave and she didn’t want to go before thanking Gavin the way she really wanted to.

“
Och, lass,” he said, and leaned upon the far wall of his pit, as though he were trying to put more distance between himself and the temptation she offered.

Cat sighed. She knew he was curious about where she was from, but she wasn’t ready to reveal herself yet—perhaps in part because she might then be compelled to actually go home—particularly if he found out who her brother was—Aidan, last of the blood of Giric, grandson of Duncan MacAlpin, brother to Kenneth and the last of the Kings of Dal Riata.

After Giric’s death, her kinsmen had fled to the Mounth and there they remained. They kept mostly to themselves and had no love for politics, though as a distant claimant to the throne, David apparently perceived Aidan as a threat. He seemed to believe that with Cat in hand, her brother would never challenge him.

But he didn’t know her brother.

Aidan wanted no part of Scotia, but provoking him was like poking a sleeping lion.

If Gavin learned the truth, would he turn her over to the English lackey, or would he take her home himself?

Cat would rather die than end as the wife of a Sassenach.

She slid as far to the edge of the pit as was physically possible, peering down into the hole. “Verra nice,” she declared.

A few loose bits of soil fell from the edge beneath her rear and she suddenly had an idea.

“
But there’s no water,” he complained.

She grinned. “Not yet.”

 

Gavin couldn’t even see out of the pit any longer, but it seemed to him that the shores of the loch across the way must surely be higher than he was at this point, and he told her so. “There’s no water here,” he announced, thinking how foolish it was to believe they would strike well water in the first spot he had cast his spade—whether or not she had bade him to believe it.

“
Oh ye of little faith,” she said.

Gavin lifted a brow at hearing that phrase so familiar from his scripture. “Where did ye hear that, lass?”

“
Hear what?”

She scooted to the very edge and a cascade of soil spilled down the pit wall onto his feet. He frowned. “What you just said.”

She arched a brow. “Well, I heard it from me, ye daft mon because I only now just said it. Didna ye hear me speak the words?” She grinned at him then, letting him know with her impish smile that she meant no harm.

“
Never mind,” Gavin groused, disconcerted that not once but twice now she had alluded to his lack of faith.

Was it true?

Had he lost his way?

How would she know, anyway? She was a pagan, painting herself with woad. In fact, perchance, just perchance she was, in fact, a faerie or a brownie—or one of those other annoying spirits.

Except that she wasn’t annoying in the least.

She was, in fact, the most pleasant person he ever didn’t know—particularly for someone who seemed to have no home, no clothes and who hadn’t eaten in so long that she had forgotten all semblance of manners.

He still didn’t know a damned thing about her and that fact soured his mood with every stab of his spade.

If she left him, how would he find her? He didn’t have the first notion where she’d come from!

For the past few days, he had felt far more alive than he had in an age, and he didn’t want this feeling to end.

It was like being drunk on Seana’s witch’s brew, except that he hadn’t touched a drop of
whiskie
.

He just suddenly felt …

Love, Gavin Mac Brodie,
he heard Seana say again.
If love is not some form of magik, then I dunno what is.
 

Gavin peered up at Cat, wondering… was it possible to lose his heart so quickly without even realizing? Didn’t two people have to
agree
to love one another?

He thought about his sister Meggie, and how the Sassenach had simply stolen her away. He was pretty sure Meggie would have put up a good fight. And yet there she was … lovin’ that Sassenach anyway.

And Colin? His brother surely would never have gone looking for love. And yet it had found him nevertheless.

As for Leith, apparently, Leith had always loved Alison, though he had somehow kept that to himself.

Confused by it all, he started shoveling again, and Cat held her foot out, giggling as she teased him with those adorable toes. Och, but he had a mind to bite them—not hard, but just enough to show her how dangerous it was to tease a grown man—particularly one who was weak as he was. And he was most definitely weak; it was all he could do to keep his mind on his work.

“
Ye’re going to fall,” he warned.

“
Not me,” she swore, and perched herself even more precariously upon the edge.

Suddenly, she gasped and fell right into the pit atop him, knocking him backward, straddling him as he fell against the wall. He pushed the spade aside, not wanting it to hurt her. She settled squarely on his belly, her sweet damp bits hot against his skin and his heart vaulted into his throat.

She gifted him with a throaty laugh and he swallowed convulsively as she wrapped her lean limbs about his waist.

Her lovely lips curved wickedly. “You saved me,” she declared.

Gavin barely shook his head—barely able to. “There wasna much danger,” he reassured her. “Ye fell but just a few feet.”

Gavin’s heart beat faster. His blood simmered as he gauged her reaction to him.

He was hardly unaffected, and his body felt alive.

He knew she knew it too and her smile hitched a notch higher, the curve of it sensual and impish.

Gavin swallowed. “Och, ye have strong legs,” he offered weakly, feeling the nob rise in his throat.

And that’s not all that was rising.

His hands grew moist while his mouth grew parched.

Gavin felt a shock of pleasure as her hand splayed across the skin of his chest. His body hardened completely as her fingers skipped across his nipples.

“
Och, lass,” he protested, but whatever he was about to say died in his throat as she leaned to place her lips to his bare skin—a hot, wet kiss that made Gavin dizzy.

She peered up at him, smiling mischievously and his heart hammered fiercely.

“
You dinna know what you are doing to me,” he warned.

She nodded slowly, her eyes teasing. “Oh, but I do,” she said, and squeezed her legs about his waist again, pressing her private flesh against his belly.

Gavin fought another wave of dizziness. All his blood floated into his head—well, not all of it, Christ save him!

Her hands disappeared at her back and she worked loose his breacan from his belt, pulling it aside and yanking it from between them, leaving Gavin completely without protection against her eyes and her wiles.

If she reached back, just a little bit behind her, she’d find a pole as hard as the handle of his spade.

She suddenly scooted back, brushing his erection with the crack of her arse, lifting up her—his—green tunic, and nestling his heat against her soft, hot flesh.

Gavin felt suddenly as though he had a fever. His skin was on fire.

To join their bodies, all he would have to do right now is lift her up, and move her back… just a wee bit… and place her gently upon his cock. The pit was small enough that he could brace his legs against one side and his shoulders against the other and let her ride him of her own accord.

Sweat beaded upon his brow.

His heartbeat roared in his ears and his blood sang through his veins.

For a moment, they both simply stared at one another.

Cat held her breath, recognizing the desire in his eyes, compelled by it, excited by it. It was exactly what she had hoped for, but seeing it now left her weak. Her heart beat furiously against her ribs and she lapped at lips gone suddenly dry.

There was something about Gavin Brodie that sang to her heart—something that she had never felt with any other man.

He looked at her as though she were perfect.

She liked that feeling… she liked everything he made her feel… every shiver of her skin… ever tingle of her flesh… every word that came out of his mouth.

And right now, she wanted nothing more than to feel him deep inside her. This is what she had saved herself for… this very moment. Every kiss she had ever denied, every touch she had forestalled… it was because she had been seeking this incredible feeling.

And to think she had discovered it in the most unexpected of places—in the arms of a stranger.

He opened his mouth—to protest, she knew, but she didn’t want to hear it. She lifted her finger to his lips.

Swallowing a little, Cat nipped her lip and scooted backward, bending so that her arse lifted as she moved to kiss him.

It was awkward at first, their lips touching gently as she lifted herself over his manhood and touched her most private lips to his hot, erect flesh. At the same time, she parted her mouth and he sent his tongue on a timid foray into her mouth. A shock of pleasure sidled through her at the intimate caress, the coupling of their mouths.

Cat accepted him, sucking in a shaky breath as she lapped his tongue and without thinking much about it, without allowing herself to hesitate, she slid herself over his shaft, bearing down upon him.

He shuddered violently, groaning fiercely, and so did she, as their bodies fused as one.

Gavin groaned deep in the back of his throat, feeling such an ecstasy as he had never felt in all his life—not even that first time as a virgin had he felt such a rush of blood into his head.

She whimpered and that was all it took.

The shovel forgotten, the pit neglected—not caring where they were, their bodies began to move together in the most delicious accord. She rode him gently, without hurry, her body tightening about his shaft, milking him sweetly.

Sweating, covered in grime, but unmindful of it, they kissed each other’s bodies. He laved her breasts with his tongue, tasting the salt of her flesh, suckling her nipples, worshiping her body.

His feet searched for firmer support, finding purchase on the flat end of his spade, kicking it into the soil beneath him as she moved against his body in wild abandon.

Och, God, but she was lovely.

Every touch she gave was magik.

Moving together in a dance as old as time, they moved together until Gavin felt her body convulse around him and it sent wave after wave of undeniable pleasure shooting through him.

It was only when they both stopped moving at last, and she lay spent upon his bare chest, their bodies moist from exertion, that he realized he was suddenly ankle deep in water.

He blinked.

“
Christ!” he exclaimed—but not just because he had ventured to heaven and back in her arms.

They’d struck water.

The well was filling with water.

 

Unlike that first time so long ago, there was not an ounce of regret. Gavin felt only euphoria.

Laughing, he kissed Cat soundly upon the lips, shuddering again.

Three strange words fought to emerge upon his tongue, but they startled him and he held back.