Chapter 11
Thunk!
Thunk!
Thunk!
Ian repeatedly threw his sghian dubh into the trunk of a tree. The small killing knife fit perfectly in his hand, and he threw it with deadly force. In just an hour, he would attempt to conjure Natalie back.
His nerves were on fire, and everything he saw or heard reminded him of her. He was snapping at people, brooding. Scratching his head, he realized he was acting just as Donell had before he returned to his woman.
The three weeks she’d been gone were like a nightmare.
He worried about her, wondered what she was doing, if she was all right.
He’d told his clan she was with her people gathering her things, as she hadn’t expected to stay with him quite yet.
Some rumors had gone about the clan that she was a distant relation to MacRae.
They needed to keep the two clans from fighting.
Donell had gone to them, and the MacRaes had sent one of their own to the MacDuffs.
He let them think what they would—whatever would keep them from questioning him and her sudden disappearance.
A broad smile covered his face as he speared the sghian dubh into the bark again.
A fine sheen of sweat covered his body from his efforts to distract himself.
He needed a quick swim in the loch to clean himself before he beheld her again.
Being the dead of winter, the dark blue waters of Loch Ness would be freezing.
Maybe the frigid temperature would help take his mind off Natalie for a little while.
Slipping the small knife back into the holster up his sleeve, he headed for the loch. When he finished, he would return to his chamber and summon her.
Sweet Lord, he hoped it would work, and Natalie appearing before him in his time wasn’t a mistake…
After taking a quick, freezing dip in the loch, Ian headed back to the keep.
He’d had Cook make Natalie her favorite stew and little sweet cakes.
After setting it just right on the table in his chamber, he sat in his chair before the fire, the brooch between his fingertips.
Sucking in his breath, he rubbed it gently and peered in amazement as the air grew thicker, almost like a fog had drifted through the windows.
Its cloudy depths centered in one spot, spinning and swirling until the outline of a woman could be seen.
The moment she appeared, the air itself seemed to sigh.
Ian rose from his chair, the brooch still warm in his hand. For weeks, he’d dreamed of this—the whisper of her laugh, the feel of her skin beneath his fingers—and now she was here, whole and shining, like sunlight breaking through fog.
“Am I too late?” she asked breathlessly.
“Never.” His voice roughened as he crossed the distance between them and drew her into his arms.
For a long moment, they simply held each other, the rest of the world fading away. The fire snapped in the hearth; snow drifted past the windows. She fit against him perfectly, as if she’d never left.
“I missed you,” she murmured.
“And I, ye,” he said, brushing her hair back. “I thought I’d go mad waiting.”
She smiled up at him, tears bright in her eyes. “You and your patience.”
He laughed softly. “A laird learns to wait for what’s worth the waiting.”
Their kiss was slow this time—no frenzy, no fear—just the steady recognition of two souls who had found their way across centuries.
When they finally drew apart, she rested her forehead against his. “Home,” she whispered.
“Aye,” he said. “Welcome home, Lady MacDuff.”
Ian couldn’t take it any longer. Three weeks were like an eternity. He needed to touch her, all of her. This was his woman, his wife! He would be with her for the rest of his life. She’d chosen to stay with him. His heart swelled as he smiled fondly.
“Even though it was just three weeks, I couldn’t wait for the time to pass so I could be with you again.” Natalie brushed her hands down the length of his naked chest.
Gooseflesh followed the paths of her fingertips, and his arousal swelled against the fabric of his kilt. He ached for her, yearned with a hunger so profound it would be his undoing if he couldn’t bury himself deep within her slick walls.
“Kiss me, love,” he whispered, leaning down, his lips only an inch from hers.
Natalie stood up on tiptoe and brushed her plush, ruby lips on his. She teased the corners of his mouth with her teeth and slid her velvet tongue along the crease between his lips.
“It’s been so long…” she moaned, her hands expertly removing his kilt.
Naked against the length of her, every part of his body hummed.
She rubbed her breasts against his chest, her core against his.
His blood boiled from her titillating seduction.
Picking her up, he tossed her onto the bed, smiling wolfishly when she giggled.
He slid his body over hers with slow, sensual measure. Her lush skin against his was ecstasy.
“Too long,” he moaned.
Capturing her mouth for a searing kiss, he nibbled on her lips, his tongue darting in and out.
She responded immediately, catching his tongue with her teeth, and then slowly sucked.
When she slid her hands along his ribs and lower still to grip him, he yanked her hands up, holding them hostage above her head as he nuzzled her neck, nipping her skin.
“’Tis my turn to seduce ye,” he drawled.
“Two can play this game—” Her words cut off as she sucked in her breath when he pulled a nipple into his mouth.
Even though her hands were held above her, she was able to send his senses spiraling with kisses along his neck and shoulders.
Her legs slid up his thighs and over his hips.
She rubbed his buttocks with her heels before crossing her ankles together.
Lifting her hips, she teased him with her own arousal.
Two certainly could play this game, and she was especially talented.
Groaning deeply, Ian plunged all the way to her womb. Natalie’s throaty moan stroked his insides as he buried himself deep inside her. Still holding her hands above her head, he kissed her on the lips, sucking on her tongue.
The pure pleasure of holding his little vixen beneath him as they drove each other wild was magical.
Ian drew out slowly, then drove himself deeper still.
Natalie’s mewls of delight overcame him as he took her.
He gladly partook in everything she offered.
Ian was swept away by her scorching heat, her silky skin, her eagerness for ravishment.
When he experienced the first trembling of her orgasm, he quickened his pace, and her hips matched his thrust for thrust.
This certainly was heaven, and he couldn’t imagine it any other way. He gave silent thanks to Donell and his ancestors, who had given him the gift of the brooch and, in turn, given him his one true love.
“I love ye, Lady MacDuff,” he murmured against her lips.
“I love you, too, my Highland warrior.”
* * *
Thank you for reading HIGHLAND WARRIOR! I hope you loved Ian and Natalie’s love story as much as I do.