Chapter Eleven
Skye curled against Kier’s chest while the horse trudged through the snow. Though wrapped in a blanket, she was colder than she’d ever been in her life. Flurries continued throughout the arduous journey through the glens. Clouds settled on the white cliffs above as if they planned to stay and dump an endless shower of snow, impeding their progress until the pony could move no more.
Overcome with the day’s events, a hollow void filled her chest. She closed her eyes and thanked God for Kier. But the catastrophe at Meall Mòr had taken a horrific and devastating trauma and made it worse. Kier had turned against his clan to help her and, in return, her kin had repaid him with nothing but rebuff.
They were a pair of outcasts in a land gone mad.
Kier brushed the snow from her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“Alive. Shocked.”
His warm breath skimmed her skin as he pressed his lips to her forehead. “I reckon we all are stunned.”
“Where are we heading?”
“Loch Dochart. I pray my da will take us in.”
“And if not?”
“Mayhap we should go to Glasgow and sail for the Americas.”
“Leave my family? My home…” She shuddered. What home?
Kier’s lips formed a thin line, his eyes taking on a hard stare. “This is no time to be planning for the future. We’ll need shelter afore nightfall.”
“Aye.” Skye swiped a hand across her face. “I feel awful about leaving my family up there in that shieling with nothing…”
“Hugh will protect them. He’s a good man.”
“He’s your enemy.”
“That doesn’t mean I disrespect him. Besides, at the moment, I cannot afford to claim any man as my enemy…a…aside from Glenlyon.”
Skye shuddered. “I’m glad of it.”
“I suppose I am as well.”
“Do you think my kin will ever forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive, lass. Your parents will love you in their hearts no matter what.”
Another shiver coursed over her skin. She didn’t feel loved. In fact, aside from the Highlander cradling her in his arms, she felt lost, exiled—like a tinker without a home.
Melancholy spread a black emptiness from her heart through her limbs. Again they rode in silence while God continued to douse them with snow. Their march grew slower and slower until Kier pulled the horse to a halt outside an abandoned shieling.
“Where are we?” Skye asked.
“Dalness—a hunting shelter used by my clan. We can weather the night here.” Kier dismounted then helped her down. He had to clear away the snow to wedge open the door. He found a candle and lit it by striking flint to his dirk.
Rubbing the outside of her arms, Skye turned full circle—there was a table and an old straw mattress on a rope frame with a fire pit at one end. “’Tis better than freezing to death in the snow.”
“There should be some wood stacked along the south side. Do you think you can manage lighting a fire whilst I hunt us something to eat?”
“Aye.” Skye nodded as her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten since last eve. With the excitement, she hadn’t even thought about food, but now her hands started to shake for the hunger.
By the time Kier returned, Skye had a fire going and her fingers had thawed from clearing snow off the thatch to allow the smoke to escape. Huddled beside the flames, she stood while Kier closed the rickety door and held up a skinned hare. “This will provide a good meal.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to find a thing in this weather.”
“Mayhap our luck has turned for the better.” He grinned then set to using a length of rope to suspend the carcass over the fire.
“You’ve done this afore.”
“Many times.”
“Do you like hunting?”
“For the most part. Just not knee-deep in snow.”
She resumed her seat, folding her legs and patting the place beside her. “You’d best sit by the fire whist the rabbit cooks.”
“I won’t argue.” He joined her and removed his gloves, setting them by the rocks to dry.
“How far are we from Loch Dochart?” she asked.
“About thirty miles if we stick to the glens. In this weather, we’d best start at first light on the morrow and pray we make it by dusk.” Kier stretched then wrapped an arm around her shoulder and encouraged her to rest against him.
“Will your pony withstand the journey?” she asked, closing her eyes and savoring his closeness.
“I think so. He’s a tough old garron. I led him down to the burn—he has the shelter of the trees, and the water is still running there—a bit of grass is showing as well.”
“Thank heavens.”
They sat together in each other’s embrace, staring into the flames of the fire. Too much had changed since last eve. Too many horrors had happened to even begin to think about. And worse, as fugitives, who knew what the morrow might bring?
The only thing Skye allowed herself to think about was the man beside her. If he had not come to her cottage that morn, she and her kin would be dead with the other ill-fated souls in Glencoe.
I owe him my life.
Not long and the juices from the rabbit dripped to the flames, making them leap and hiss. The smell served to heighten Skye’s hunger. By the time Kier cut off a slice of meat and handed it to her, she ate greedily, stuffing her mouth as if she had been starved for sennights.
They gorged themselves on rabbit and drank from Kier’s flask. Finally, he pointed to the two remaining legs. “Mayhap we should save a bit for the morn. I don’t imagine we’ll find much else afore we reach Sigurd Castle.”
Skye agreed and they sat together for a time while Kier gently rocked her, his hand caressing. Dear God, Skye wanted to belong to him, to be a part of something and not hanging from a precipice, not knowing what ills the morrow would bring. “Inside the shieling I-I heard you talking to Hugh. Did you mean what you said?” she asked, curling over a bit, afraid his reply might cut her to the quick.
“Aye. Every word.” With the crook of his finger he inclined her chin upward. “I ken we’ve only known each other for a very short time, but from the first day I saw you standing in the upstairs window of the weaver’s shop, you’ve stirred my blood.”
“Do you love me?”
“With my very being.”
Her heart fluttered. “And you would marry me?”
“Aye, I said it to Hugh, and I swear it to you now.”
She didn’t tremble at all as she stood, dropping the arisaid from her shoulders. There had been no time to don a kirtle or socks or a set of stays. It took but a blink of an eye to slip out of her boots and pull her shift over her head.
Kier watched her every move, his eyes growing dark and filling with desire. His breathing became labored as he rose to his feet. “I will marry you the Highland way this eve, if you agree to be my wife.”
Standing naked before him, Skye swallowed against the thickening in her throat. She knew of the ancient Highland rite of marriage when a lass consents for a man to take her. She knew what he was asking of her. It meant she would lay with him and they would be married in the eyes of clan and kin.
She didn’t blink as she met his gaze. “It would be an honor to serve the man who risked everything to save my family from the bane of fire and sword this very morn.”
His coat dropped to the floor as he stared into her eyes. His boots slipped off. Skye could scarcely breathe as his hand moved to his belt. With a flick of his wrist, his weapons dropped to the ground. Stepping in, she unpinned the brooch at his shoulder and pulled the length of tartan away, unwrapping it from his hips until it billowed to the floor. With a sultry grin, he pulled his shirt over his head and cast it aside.
Bare as God intended, he stood before her. His body had not an ounce of fat—a powerful chest, supported by a rippling abdomen, but what truly took her breath away was the full length of virile manhood jutting from a nest of black curls.
Skye gasped, tapping her lips with the tips of her fingers. “You are magnificent.”
He chuckled, stepping in and grasping her hands. “Let me look at you.” She eased the tension in her arms as he spread them wide. “I have never seen a sight more beautiful.”
He pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth with a kiss filled with fire, a kiss like he wanted to devour her. As his hot flesh rubbed hers, the intense pull of longing shot between her legs. She clutched him tighter, craving more, craving to be joined with him.
Kier lifted her into his arms. “Wrap your legs around me.”
Doing so made her entire body quake with delicious shudders as her slick core slid down his length. “What wizardry do you possess over me?” she asked with a gasp.
“’Tis the magic of passion between a man and a woman,” he growled in her ear, carrying her to the bed and laying her atop a blanket.
Kier scarcely made it to the bed before he exploded. He’d thought Skye was the bonniest woman in the Highlands prior to seeing her naked, but now he knew in the depths of his soul she was the finest woman in all of Christendom. And she was his. Laying her on her back, Skye’s tresses swarmed around her, making her look like a flesh and blood goddess.
On his knees, he pushed between her thighs and moved her hands to his rock-hard erection. “I want you to touch me.”
Her lips parted as she stared at him, the corners of her mouth turning up. She stroked him with silken fingers while he shuddered with his mounting desire. “I want to please you. Show me how.”
Seed leaked from the tip of his cock and he sucked in a sharp breath, clenching his arse cheeks to regain control. “Good God, no sweeter words have ever been spoke.” No matter how much Kier desired to take her, to plunge inside heaven and soar to the stars, he had to make it right. “Tell me you will marry me.”
“I will,” she said breathlessly.
He thrust his hips forward as she began to milk him. But before he gave in to his need, he must seal their bond. “Will you hold me dear in your heart for the rest of your days?”
“I will cherish you forever.”
His heart soared. “And I will be your husband. I promise to provide for you, to care for you, to love you and our bairns to come.”
Kier lowered himself over bonny Skye as he kissed her, all of her. He trailed lips down her neck and buried his face between the mounds of her breasts. He suckled her nipples until she gasped and arched against him.
Chuckling, he rocked forward and brushed his cock along her exposed, swollen womanhood. She was so wet and hot, he nearly exploded. Staring up at him with the bonniest bluebell eyes, a look of pure passion filled Skye’s expression as her breathing sped and her hips swirled against him.
Taking a stuttered inhale, Kier moved lower and shifted the tip of his cock to her opening. “Are ye ready to become my Highland bride?”
Skye quavered beneath him and nodded. “Aye, aye, aye!” Her parted lips, ruby red with passion, drove him to the brink of madness. He could wait no longer.
Gradually inching inside he held still, biting his lip. Holy hellfire, she was tighter than a new scabbard.
“Kier,” she gasped, tensing beneath him.
“Am I hurting you?”
“A little.” She shook her head. “Nay. It feels inexplicably good.”
“Then guide me so I’ll not cause you pain, mo leannan.”
Nodding, her eyes filling with trust, she sank her lithe fingers into his buttocks and tugged. She let out a sharp gasp while she dictated the torturous pace. Kier fought to maintain control as this sensuous woman milked him, surrounded him, tight and wet. Skye strengthened her grip and swirled her hips until he reached the wall of her womb. Arching her back, her moans started low then came rapid and swift, sending him into a maelstrom of driving need. Kier could hold back no more. He drove into her again and again, the tight rippling of her walls taking him beyond the point of pure magic. Throwing back his head, he roared with his release.
Skye’s hips met his thrusts. As he exploded, she arched up and cried out.
Panting, he rested on his elbows and gazed into the luminous pools of her eyes, so clear, he could glimpse into her soul. “God help me, I love you with every thread of my being.”
Smiling like an angel, her hair damp from exertion, she caressed his face and drew his lips to hers. “I love you, Kier Campbell.”
Kissing his bride, he swore he would never again let her go. He vowed to hold her in his embrace and protect her forever. Skye of Clan Iain Abrach was his.