Highlander's Touch (13 page)

And yet, Shona had shown him something that he’d not had with any other. Care—she’d taken
care
of him. He had no one. When he’d been injured before he’d been at the mercy of his laird, his laird’s wife and their healers. They’d done well in tending him, but it wasn’t the same.

A wife looked forward to a man’s homecoming more so than his master and companions. More than Hildie and her lot. Shona had given him a taste of what wifely compassion could be. What having a woman at his side was like—someone to look after him, to care
about
him.

Then again, he wanted to be the one taking care of her, and so far she’d played nursemaid to him for several days and he’d done nothing for her. The past several days he’d seen in blurs. But making love to her—that was no blur. He could recall it vividly.

And he knew without a doubt it couldn’t happen again. He had to get back to the castle. He had to leave this place, leave her. And never look back, because she made him want things he couldn’t have, nor did he deserve.

He opened his eyes, no longer feeling the warmth of her body beside him as he had all night.

Indeed, she was not within the tiny cottage. Ewan took a moment to glance around the comfortable room. It was clean and well-maintained. How had she been able to do that without the help of a man? Who was he kidding? There
had
to be a man. A woman as beautiful as she would never survive in the woods alone.

Perhaps all his ruminations about why she couldn’t be his were simply there to protect his pride. Because from the looks of things, she wasn’t free to give herself to him, anyway.

Ewan threw back the blanket and sat up, a little dizzy and his body aching. His head pounded. She’d done a good job sewing him up.

He stood on shaky legs, taking a moment to let his weight settle on his limbs before he found his plaid. It was folded neatly on top of a chest at the foot of the bed—washed and dried. His belt was with it. He pleated the fabric and belted it around his hips. No shirt. Judging from the look of himself, the shirt had been destroyed. ’Haps if he looked inside the chest or the wardrobe he could borrow one of her husband’s. Ewan frowned. He’d never wear another man’s shirt—especially not her man’s. He slipped on his hose and boots, feeling more like himself already.

Och, what did it matter, he only intended to find her. To tell her thanks and to be on his way.

But first, he had to see what that heavenly scent was. A loud grumble in his belly implored him to investigate. He trudged toward the hearth and lifted the ladle full of stew to his lips and took a sip. Delicious. He took a few more sips. He’d have to tell her what an excellent cook she was when he thanked her for her nurturing.

Ewan opened the door, blinking wildly at the sun shining into his face. He held up his arm until his eyes adjusted. Then made his way toward the barn. Inside he found a few animals and a rough looking horse.

The horse nickered to him—the sound oddly familiar. Ewan looked closer, his eyes deceiving him. “What in bloody…?”

That was
his
horse. The poor animal’s mane had been chopped off and he looked as though he’d been left out in a mud storm.

“What happened to ye, Bhaltair?”

The horse shook his head and blew out a disgusted sigh.

“At least ye look well fed,” Ewan said, taking note of the oats in the bucket. “Very well fed.”

How could she afford such fine oats?

The clues were slowly coming together. There was no doubt now. There was a man in her life already. ’Twas only a matter of time before the man returned. Exiting the barn, he caught sight of Shona on the opposite side, stacking wood she’d likely just cut. The top of an ax was buried inside a large flattened stump she must have been using to hold the smaller logs in place.

Wasn’t that a man’s job? Odd. But impressive.

Ewan quietly approached her, but she must have sensed his presence for she glanced up, concern in her eyes but a smile on her lips.

“Ye lied to me,” he growled, surprised by the vehemence and emotion laced in his own voice.

She glanced toward the barn, a frown on her lips and when she glanced back at him, he swore there was regret in her eyes. “About your horse? I had to cut his mane, I apologize, but it was for your safety.”

Ewan slowly shook his head. “Not about that—though I’m not sure whether to be offended or not.”

“I have lied to ye about nothing else,” she said, shifting her gaze.

Ewan stepped closer. Shona didn’t retreat, she straightened, her feet firmly planted in the ground. The way her breath heaved from the strain of her work pushed her breasts against the gown in an enticing way. He could see the outline of her perfectly round bosom, and the closer he got, the tighter her nipples grew. Instantly, his body reacted, cock growing hard and desire whipping through him.

Ewan stopped walking. He couldn’t desire her. Not when he’d found out she had someone. Yet, he did. Fiercely.

“Where is he?” he demanded.

She swallowed hard. “Who?”

“Dinna lie to me again, Shona.”

She squared her shoulders and stared him straight in the face, confusion marring her features. “I didna lie to ye.”

Anger sliced through him. Ewan closed the gap between them and gripped her shoulders. He brought his face within an inch of hers, trying to ward off the intense need to kiss her, to crush her delicious body to his and claim ownership. She was warm to his touch and a soft sheen of perspiration shone on her skin. He wanted to lick every inch of her clean, bury himself ballocks deep inside her until they both cried out. The intensity of his need was startling and disturbing.

“Ye’ll hurt yourself. Ye must go back inside and rest,” she said softly.

“Tell me,” he growled.

Her little pink tongue flicked out to swipe over her lips. Ballocks but she was entirely too enticing for her own good.

“Tell ye what?” Her gaze searched his face, looking for answers.

“Tell me…” But did he really want to hear that she had a man? That a husband had already claimed her? That all the things he’d fantasized about her being
his
woman—no matter how illogical and unrealistic they were—could never be?

“Let me take ye back inside,” she soothed, reaching up to place her hands over his and squeezing. Just the same way she’d squeezed his cock.

Her fingers were warm, but what got him the most was the shot of desire that sparked in her eyes. His cock pulsed, hard with untamed need.

And he didn’t care at that moment if she had a man or three. Ewan tugged her against him, ignoring the ache to his wounds and brushed his mouth over hers. He wanted to devour her, delve inside her mouth and never leave, but he didn’t want to frighten her away. Didn’t want her to deny him.

But he need not have worried. Shona slid her tongue out to taste the line of his lips, thrusting inside his mouth to kiss him with abandon. A soft moan escaped her, and she lifted on her tiptoes, the crux of her thighs cradling his rigid length. Heat cupped his arousal, showing him she, too, was filled with need for him.

Ewan wanted to pleasure her and punish her all at the same time. Without realizing it—or maybe she did—Shona embodied everything he wanted and couldn’t have. He wanted to take her. He wanted to touch her, to hear her cry out, to quiver around him. Ewan had always been cautious, taking only what he was offered. Ever since he was a lad and Logan had saved him. He remembered little of his childhood, but what he did know was that he was loyal to a fault.

Well, this time, he was going to take what wasn’t his, and he was damned well going to enjoy it.

He gripped her hips and lifted her into the air, hands sliding down her thighs and forcing them around his hips. Shona moaned into his mouth, her hands wrapping around his neck as she held tight to him. Primal heat ripped through him. She wanted him—and she shouldn’t.

Ewan took the five or so steps toward the barn wall and pressed her back up against it, rocking his body against hers so she could feel his rigid cock pressing into her.

“I want ye,” he murmured.

He tore his mouth from hers and skimmed his teeth down her neck to the top of her gown.

“I need ye,” she answered, yanking down the fabric, freeing a single breast to his view and he gladly tugged the turgid peak into his mouth.

Grinding her up against the wall with his hips, he made quick work of pushing her gown up her thighs until he felt the wet heat of her cunt against his palm.

He sucked harder on her nipple, reveling in the tiny gasps and moans slipping from her lips. With a flick of his wrist, his belt was undone and his plaid pooling at his feet. He gripped his cock, slid it through her wet folds and then surged forward.

Shona’s head fell back against the barn wall and a moan tore from her throat.

“Ye like it hard?” he asked, pounding into her. “Do ye like it when I take ye like this?”

Her fingernails sunk into the flesh at his shoulders, her feet hooked at the small his back.

“Aye,” she crooned.

If she was going to lie to him, to pretend she wasn’t already taken, then he was going to take his pleasure as she gave it. Base and full of feral heat. He almost felt sorry for the sot she was linked to, for Shona was minx and a half.

“Harder,” she moaned, her hips swiveling rapidly. “Oh, Ewan.”

At least she’d gotten his name right. And he was going to give her exactly what she asked for.

Bracing his feet, and holding tight to her hips, he drove deep and hard inside her. He was relentless, pushing her against the wood, slamming his cock in and out. The sound of their flesh smacking echoed in the small yard, but he didn’t care. He hoped her man came home and found them like this.

Ewan’s mouth crashed onto hers, swallowing her cries as he thrust harder and faster still. And then her grip on his shoulders tightened, her body stiffened, and her slick, tight cunt quivered and squeezed. A moan deep in her throat pushed past their kiss as she climaxed—enough to make him burst inside, too. He sank in deep as spasms caught him, then recalled she wasn’t his and pulled out at the last second, the rest of his seed spilling to the ground.

Fucking her would have been a lot more satisfying if he’d been able to spend inside her all the way. Ballocks, but he should have done it anyway. Should have truly claimed her, husband be damned.

Ewan set her down and staggered backward, naked both physically and emotionally.

Shona ran her hand through her hair, her hands visibly shaking.

“That was…” she started and stopped. Stooping to pick up his plaid and belt she came forward to hand it to him.

Too wrecked from what had just happened and the thoughts that wrenched though his mind, he grabbed the items and backed away from her, shaking his head. He turned his back on her and headed for the cottage.

WHAT the bloody hell?

Shona stared at Ewan’s retreating figure, pain ripping through her chest. How could he just walk away from her in such disgust? What had she done wrong? He’d seemed to enjoy their lovemaking—even when she’d made a wanton demand for him to thrust harder.

Glowering at his back, she refused to let him treat her like that. She marched forward, intent on telling him exactly how she felt. Inside the cottage, he’d re-pleated his plaid and was belting it at his hips. Her healer’s eye took in the bandages, pleased not to see any blood on the surface.

“Why did ye walk away from me?” She tried to keep the hurt from her voice.

Ewan swiped a hand over his face and shook his head again refusing to answer.

The stubborn mule.

“Why won’t ye answer me?” Her voice came out soft and confused. It wouldn’t do to show how angry his reaction had made her, how much it hurt, too.

“I’ve no right to ye, lass, and no place in being cross, but I am all the same.”

“Cross? Why should ye be angry?” She turned to glance out the door at the spot where they’d unleashed their passion. “What we did was… a sin, aye, but not unnatural.”

He gaped at her with exasperation that made her take a step back. The muscle in his jaw was clenched tight. He blew out a breath and shook his head again. “’Tis no matter. This was a mistake.”