To Wed A Highlander Read online

  Colin watched his guard advance, deflect, attack, and then retreat. Protecting Makenna had actually improved Gorten’s cunning, but it had seriously reduced his stamina for swordplay. Gorten most likely could still outfight most of his men, but that fact would not remain true if he didn’t have the opportunity to rebuild his strength. Makenna could keep Gorten’s agility alive, but she could not improve his power.

  Another crash of metal echoed throughout the hills. Makenna deflected a strike and then spun around, sending dust flying into the air as she aimed for Gorten’s side. He jumped out of the way, slicing her sword down and kicking up further dirt. Then she did something unexpected. Instead of stepping back to ensure that she remained steady, she moved forward, twisting her arms back up. It threw Gorten off balance. Somehow, their limbs hooked together, and Makenna came crashing down with Gorten falling full length on top of her. Dust flew up into the air and took its time settling back to the ground.

  Colin could see nothing but a cloud of dirt for a moment, but he heard their laughter. They were practically in hysterics. Makenna sounded so happy, so at ease. And though he knew it to be irrational, he wanted to be the cause behind her free, jubilant laugh.

  Colin moved toward them, deciding the one-on-one session was over. When he was halfway across the clearing, the dust had settled enough to reveal their positions. Raw fury exploded.

  Jealousy, hot and dark, pumped through him, racing over his nerve endings. Makenna was his. No man was ever to know what it felt like to have her beneath him. They belonged to each other and no one else.

  Makenna’s eyes widened in surprise upon seeing Colin. She was about to shout a greeting when her eyes locked with his. Fear rushed through her. Colin looked ready to kill.

  “Gorten, I think you better get up,” she murmured, never taking her eyes off of Colin. His expression was dark and stone-hard.

  Gorten smiled, still recovering from his fit of laughter. “I suppose you are right. This new move of yours still needs work.”

  Gorten was still talking when he felt someone grab him by the shoulders and throw him aside as if he weighed nothing. Reaching for his sword to attack the unknown assailant, Gorten felt a sheathed foot slam down hard on his hand. He looked up and realized who and why he had been assaulted.

  “Laird, I did not hear you approach,” he managed to say, trying hard to keep his voice level. He had disgraced himself enough already this day. He would not show pain to his laird.

  “I believe you were too busy rolling on the ground with my wife.” There was no mistaking the wrath about to be unleashed on Gorten.

  Makenna quickly stood and tried to deflect Colin’s attention off her guard, who feared to move or even stand. “Take your anger out on me, Colin McTiernay. Gorten has been a loyal soldier to you. We were only sparring. Nothing more.”

  He knew she spoke the truth. He had witnessed it. But he could not erase the vision of Gorten lying on top of her…laughing. “I saw how he has been loyal to me.”

  Gorten remained motionless. One word spoken out of place, and his life would end. Makenna must have sensed that as well.

  “How dare you!” Makenna admonished through her teeth. She struggled for composure. Adrenaline pumped through her, and she began to tremble violently.

  Colin took a step back. Blue pools of fury shifted from Gorten back to her. “How dare I?”

  Gorten took the chance to stand.

  Without even looking in his direction, Makenna ordered, “Leave now, Gorten. I am about to fight with my husband and would like to do so in private. Please make sure no one comes within hearing distance of this clearing.” Makenna’s chin came up angrily, her green eyes sparkling with equal intensity, daring him to counter her order.

  “Gorten!” Colin yelled without removing his eyes from Makenna. Very carefully, fully aware of his tightly leashed anger and its absurdity, he called out, “Leave, and do your lady’s bidding.” Then much more quietly Colin added, “For she is right. We are about to fight,” he growled through compressed lips.

  With Gorten gone, Makenna hoped Colin would calm and become more rational. He looked both menacing—and thoroughly male. She wanted the chance to explain her innocence and then throw herself into his arms and kiss all his doubts away.

  Her hope died a quick death.

  Gorten might be gone, but their quarrel was not over. Colin’s pride had been injured just as deeply as a sword could do to the flesh. It would not be mended with the mere disappearance of one man.

  “So this is what you have been doing while I was away. I am surprised you had the energy for me upon my return. Or maybe I should consider myself fortunate to have a wife with such stamina.”

  Makenna cringed at the coldness in his voice. She wanted to shake him into admitting that he knew she would never, ever even look at another man.

  “Are you so insecure as to believe I would do that to you? Do you think that I have such a low sense of self-worth? Or maybe I do at that. I did marry you.” Pride spoke now for both of them, slicing through newly built layers of trust.

  Colin brought his face very close to Makenna’s so that she had no trouble seeing just how blazingly furious he was. Makenna returned his stare. His eyes were brilliant and frighteningly bright. She saw his anger, but she also recognized possessiveness, pain, and fear. This man, who needed no one, who could stand impassively at a crowd openly hating him, who could ignore taunts delivered by his enemies, needed her.

  Makenna pulled at his leine until he leaned down. She could feel the strength radiating through the soft fabric. Lord, he was as inflexible as his stubborn nature. “Listen to me now, Colin McTiernay, for I would never say this if it were not the utter truth. I didn’t want to marry you.”

  She could feel him pull away, but she kept him near. “Aye, but I will be forever happy that I did. Never did I dream that I could love a domineering giant, but I do.” Hot tears burned her eyes. She could feel them fall, but she continued. “Do you hear me, Colin? I love you. I would never bear the touch of any man but you. I will never, ever dishonor you or what I feel for you. You complete me in ways I never thought possible. It is because of you I was able to laugh today. It is because of you I feel safe enough, loved enough, to be myself. Do you know how much that means to me? How much you mean to me?”

  She let him go and felt him rise, but his gaze did not leave hers. The heat rose in Makenna’s cheeks as she saw the cool possessiveness fill his eyes as he realized what she was saying. It took him several seconds to regain his ability to breathe, and even when he was sure he had himself in hand again, he still did not dare to touch her.

  Makenna reached up and cupped his cheek. Colin closed his eyes and felt his hot anger dissipate under the light touch. When it was gone, his eyes sprang open. Two tumultuous green pools shimmered into his. He spread his hands wide against the sides of her face, his fingers tangling in her glorious red mane.

  Makenna needed him more than ever before. She had opened her heart to him, told him what she felt. “I love you, Colin,” she pledged again.

  The anguished whisper tore at Colin’s heart. He wanted to say the words back, but fear stopped him. He had loved before and barely survived its loss. Loving and losing Makenna would cause a pain he would not be able to endure.

  Colin looked down intently into her now serene and confident eyes. He needed some of that serenity, some of that assurance. “Never leave me,” he said roughly, barely able to speak. “Vow it.”

  She nodded within his grasp. “I belong to you,” she said, making the same promise she had the night before he left.

  “And I to you, Makenna,” Colin whispered just before his mouth closed roughly over hers, searing her lips with his own.

  Makenna moaned softly and gripped his neck as he picked her up and moved to the soft grass near the trees where he had been hiding. He lay down and pulled her on top of him. Cupping his hand behind her neck, he gathered her close and brushed his mouth lightly, but possessively across hers.

  Makenna wanted him, needed him, but this time she intended to sweep him away in passion. Never again would Colin doubt what she felt for him.

  Makenna parted his lips and boldly stroked the inside of his mouth. Her tongue dove in, then withdrew, then plunged again, mimicking the rhythm of lovemaking. She kissed with wild abandon, tasting, teasing, drinking in everything about him.

  Colin knew he should do something to gain control of this passionate assault upon his senses, but he couldn’t muster the will to stop her. Not yet. It was the most incredible kiss he had ever experienced.

  He moaned and moved his arms slowly around her waist. He felt her warm skin and realized her gown had ridden up, giving him access to inside. His hands stroked her round buttock, enjoying the soft skin before moving down her leg. The blood in his veins turned molten, and his male member rose hot and hard.

  Makenna could feel Colin’s fingers caress her, teasing her body into a fever. She decided it was time to issue the same exquisite torment. She felt him, hard and impatient against her thigh, and slid her hand down his body. She removed his belt and plaid and finally found what she sought. It was tight, hot, and hard.

  Colin felt her fingers close around him and thought his heart might stop. “God, Makenna, what you do to me,” he groaned softly, deeply.

  Makenna smiled and leaned down to capture his lips in a kiss. Her hand never stopped moving up and down his hard shaft, leisurely massaging its tip with her thumb.

  Colin could take no more and grabbed her wrist. Before she could argue, he shifted so that she straddled his thighs. Her eyes grew large on her face as she realized what he wanted her to do. “Colin, I—”

  “Shhh,” he commanded softly. He reached out and touched her between her thighs. She wa
s hot and moist, and already wild with need for him. Picking her up, she naturally parted her thighs. Then Colin positioned her so that she was astride him, engulfing him with one long, sure movement.

  Makenna gasped. She didn’t think it was possible, but Colin felt even more enormous. At first, she expected to burst, but after a moment, her body adjusted, and sudden wild abandon filled her.

  Slowly she began the primitive rhythm, moving up, down, and around, taking delight in his bold, aggressive hardness. Makenna gazed down at Colin, looking thoroughly satisfied. Her lips were dewy and swollen, and the sparkle in her eyes drove him into a new, frenzied level of need.

  Colin could stand no more. Makenna didn’t even have time to gasp before she found herself on her back with Colin driving himself into her. He pulled her close and showered her face and shoulders with hungry kisses, groaning with intense yearning as he removed clothing frantically, seeking new places to caress.

  He was there at the core of her body, pushing into her with each thrust. His mouth was savoring and claiming every morsel of her, branding her as his own.

  Her fingers sank into his shoulders. She tipped back, and a small cry caught in her throat. A sweet, hot flame scorched through her.

  Makenna climaxed with a shock of immense pleasure that shook her whole body. Colin felt it all just before the wave of sweet bliss claimed him.

  Minutes later, he could still feel her trembling with the aftermath of their lovemaking. He had rolled to his back and moved her onto him once again. She was limp, but he knew she was happy. His arms stole protectively around her and he kissed the top of her head.

  Colin was glad Makenna could not see him. He was wearing a huge grin and all because Makenna loved him. It sent a wave of elation through him that couldn’t be equaled by any other kind of knowledge.

  If anyone had told him that passion and the need for a woman could rule his head, his heart, even his life, he would have thought they were mad. He had needs as any man, but they were well within his control. That was until he had experienced passion with Makenna. Each time, whether hot and wild or slow and exploring, she had brought him to levels of physical want beyond the imagination. And each time, he floated down to earth filled with indescribable happiness.

  With her, he felt complete.

  Makenna swatted Colin’s hand away for the umpteenth time. “Colin, stop that! You’re making it very difficult for me to get dressed.”

  “I hoped to make it impossible,” he said, tugging on her bliaut so that she fell against him.

  Makenna surrendered to another kiss, and then tried once again to finish dressing. “You must let me finish, Colin. Someone might approach, and I would forever be shamed.”

  Colin let her go. “No one will come. Remember? Gorten is ensuring that none come near.”

  Makenna stopped and stared at him. “Lord, I had forgotten. Do you suppose he thinks we are still fighting?”

  Colin laughed and stood up, helping her adjust the bliaut. “I highly doubt it.” Colin knew Gorten genuinely liked Makenna and would have interceded on her behalf by now if he believed Colin still to be angry with her. It was both good and bad to have someone as loyal and devoted as her guard.

  “There,” Colin said, wiping off the last blades of grass from her sleeve. “No one will ever know how you seduced your husband after defeating one of his men in combat.”

  Makenna’s jaw dropped. “I seduced you?” she squeaked.

  “Aye, and you can do it again tonight if you wish,” he replied, his voice both arrogant and lighthearted.

  “Nay, husband. Tonight it is you who shall be doing the seducing.”

  Colin grabbed the reins to his black mount and walked with Makenna to where hers remained tethered to a tree and eating grass. She smoothed the chestnut-colored mane. Adjusting her sword, she sheathed her Secret into the specially made scabbard. She then spoke kindly into the mare’s ear and mounted.

  “Would you like to join me and ride to the training fields?” Even as the words left his mouth, Colin couldn’t believe what he was asking. But even as he mentally explored the request, he knew that he would not take it back. “Just this once.”

  Excitement bubbled inside Makenna. The training fields. The place Colin prepared his men. She would finally get to see the size of his army and watch them display their skill with a sword. “Aye, Colin, I would like it very much.”

  “Come on, then. Let us tell Gorten that he no longer needs to fear for his life before we find Dunlop. Today, he is working with new recruits who think they already know all there is about sword fighting.”

  Makenna smiled and joined Colin in the brisk ride to find Gorten and then to the grounds where men learned to be Scottish warriors.

  As they approached the wide expanse of land a few miles north of the Lochlen, Makenna could hear shouts and the clinking of metal swordplay. Dunlop rode out to greet them. “Ho, Laird! My lady! It is good to see you riding once again.”

  Colin caught the implication. “Have you not been riding, Makenna?”

  “Nay, not once while you were gone,” Dunlop interjected, knowing Makenna would somehow evade answering the question.

  Makenna shot the commander a scathing look. “I thought it best not to since we did not know exactly what had happened to the farmers or by whom,” she quickly explained and focused on the men practicing.

  Colin stared at his wife as she intently avoided his gaze. Her answer was too full of logic, and much too safe to be true. No, there were other reasons that kept Makenna from partaking in one of her favorite pastimes.

  Before Colin could ask, a shouting match exploded between several men, and he moved to intercede. Makenna persuaded her mount to move beside Dunlop’s. She studied the fields, estimating over one hundred head practiced here. “Dunlop, how is it possible to train so many men at one time?”

  “Colin has grouped them by skill and by weapon. Those you see in the distance practice the longbow. Over there, down the hill and to your right, those men are focused on the mace.”

  Makenna watched in fascination. Most were training on the battle-axe, the mace, and the claymore, but some were training on the small ballock knife. The men were quite good. They lacked originality, but they were quick and deadly accurate.

  “I’m surprised Colin has so many men training with knives.”

  “’Tis a common mistake some leaders make to train only with swords. One does not fight just in war, and most men cannot afford swords. But everyone carries a knife. Why, even you carry a small version in your hilt, do you not?” Makenna nodded. “A man does as well. And it can be deadly if a soldier does not know how to fight, deflect, and disarm an attacker with a smaller weapon. Additionally, a man who is knowledgeable with a knife can defend, wound, and kill—important skills to have in battle.”

  Makenna pointed to where Colin was standing. “And what group are they?” Colin was surrounded by boys of varying ages, some very young, approximately thirteen or fourteen, but a few looked nearer to twenty summers.

  Dunlop grimaced. “Beginners. They heard about our laird’s leadership and his ability to train younger men and recently joined. They are inexperienced and young, but eager to learn. At least most of them are.”

  “Most of them?” Makenna inquired.

  “Aye, most, but not all. There are some who feel learning the basics of fighting is beneath them,” he answered, pointing to the obviously much older boys in the group.

  They were training with single ash sticks, just as Camus had started his instruction with her. Makenna moved forward and was surprised to hear Colin declare that a truly skilled soldier could discern when to defend himself and avoid killing and when it was absolutely necessary.

  One of the bigger boys leaning disrespectfully against the tree threw down his stick. “And I keep telling you that I am ready. I have no need to practice with sticks. I want to fight with real weapons and train with the men.”

  Again, Makenna was surprised. She expected her husband to lose his temper at the boy’s insolence, but Colin remained calm, even patient, as the young man droned about how he had never been so underappreciated in his father’s army.