Page 18 of Deceived by the Highlander (Daughters of the Isle #2)

Her sigh rocked through him, and he teased the seam of her lips with his tongue, until she opened for him. He pushed inside her welcoming heat, and her tongue stroked his in a tantalizing invitation.

She tasted of mint and honey. And tempting, forbidden promises.

Somehow, he managed to tear free before he completely lost his mind. Panting, he stared into her passion-clouded eyes and traced the pad of his thumb over her warm cheek.

“Do ye think I want to leave, after this?”

Her uneven breath dusted his jaw. It was an insubstantial caress and yet it fired his blood with alluring visions of how Freyja would gasp when he finally made her his.

He swallowed a groan and held grimly onto his unraveling threads of self-control. Now wasn’t the time to indulge in those fantasies. First, he had to win her.

“But we’re talking of marriage.” Her voice was sultry and addictive, and his cock thickened further, driving him to the edge. He was so damn hard he feared even his plaid could not disguise how much he wanted her. “And that’s forever.”

“Aye.” The word rasped his throat, and he speared his fingers into her glorious hair. Her hands slid to his wrists, but she didn’t try and push him away. She clung onto him, as though she never wanted to let him go. “Can ye do forever with me?”

“Ye would wed me to please Ranulph?” She sounded scandalized, but fascination glowed in her eyes and her fingers tightened around his wrists.

“’Tis nothing to do with Ranulph. I’d wed ye because I need a wife, and I’ve never met a woman like ye, Freyja. Ye’ve bewitched me, and that’s a fact. Even if Ranulph hadn’t said anything, I believe I would’ve asked ye before I left Rum.”

And he meant every damn word.

“But we scarcely know each other.”

“We have the rest of our lives to get to know each other. Is that yer only objection?”

“It’s not an objection.” She released his wrists and flattened her hands against his chest. “I can scarcely think straight. I’ve never put my mind to marriage before.”

“Neither have I. But there’s no one I’d rather wed, and I’m glad to know Ranulph would give his blessing if ye’re of like mind.”

“Oh.” She closed her eyes and a shudder wracked her.

Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her and tugged her close, and she laid her head against his chest where his heart thundered like a wild beast. “I don’t understand what possessed him.

But I don’t want him fretting over it.” She heaved a great sigh.

“Truly, I thought ye would run for the nearest ship as soon as we left his chamber.”

“Why would ye think that? Ye’re a prize fit for a prince.” And he was far from a prince. He was merely the bastard son of the late earl, who’d scarcely acknowledged his existence.

He’d never tell her that. Let her believe he’d always been a part of the earl’s inner circle. It was better than the truth, that he’d been nothing but a thorn in the side of his family.

“A prince?” She gave a silent laugh that caused a strange warmth to encase his chest. “I doubt there’s a prince alive who’d want me, and why would I want to live that kind of life, with all its rules and protocols? It would drive me mad, I’m certain of it.”

From nowhere, the sound of Ranulph’s voice filled his head.

“Her light must never be dimmed. Ye must promise me that.”

Ranulph hadn’t wanted her tricked into marriage, and he wanted her to be happy. Well, so did he.

“Then ye’ll be pleased to know the Queen barely knows I exist, and we’ll never be expected to spend time in her court. Ye’ll be mistress of yer own castle, and free to make yer own rules and protocols.”

“The prospect sounds tempting, I’ll not deny. I always believed you were often welcomed at the queen’s court.” Then she pulled back and looked him in the face, as her smile faded. “Yer fine castle is in the Highlands, is it not?”

“Dunochty is half a day’s ride from Oban.” He’d been inside the castle only once, more than a year ago, but had never thought he might one day be the master of such a grand estate. He was certain Freyja would admire the castle as soon as she saw it.

“But I’m bound to the Isle of Eigg, Alasdair. I cannot leave.”

Goddamn it. He’d been so sure Freyja was close to agreeing to wed him, but now an obstacle he’d barely considered smacked him in the face.

The day after they’d met, she told him she’d never wed a man not of the isles.

He’d been intrigued, but the truth was, he’d not seriously believed it.

But there was no hint of a smile on her face now, and belatedly he realized his error.

What had Ranulph said, before he had even met Freyja?

“’Tis the love of her foremothers that guides her. Best not to forget that.”

But he had. Even when her grandfather had invoked the bloodline of her ancestors to elicit a promise from her when they’d been in his bedchamber just now, the implication hadn’t hit him.

And Freyja hadn’t given Ranulph her word, either.

He wouldn’t give up. And not simply because of the earl’s edict.

“What is this legacy that makes yer foremothers so against ye wedding a man not from the Small Isles? Is there a curse upon yer bloodline, that if ye decide to leave Eigg ye’ll be compelled to follow strange lights on the sea and drown?”

As he had hoped, she smiled at his ridiculous comment. “I told ye the dancing lights are nonsense, and there’s no curse. Just the pledge handed down from mother to daughter that we must protect the Isle at all costs.”

“Protect it from what? The Campbells of Argyll?”

“If a Campbell made his home at Sgur, there would be no problem with that.”

He sighed and tenderly tucked an errant curl, that had fallen across her cheek, behind her ear. “I cannot leave my manor forever, Freyja.” Or the castle that would be his, once she became his bride. With a reluctance that didn’t make sense, he forced himself to add, “Or Dunochty.”

“Are ye certain?” There was such a wistful note in her voice he was almost tempted to say he’d consider it. But he wouldn’t lie to her. He’d never make his home on the Small Isles, not when the earl entrusted him with more responsibility each year and the coveted barony inched ever closer.

“I’m the only family my mother has left.

” And even if she’d never wanted him or had seemingly forgotten he was alive when he was a bairn, she was still the only mother he had and he wouldn’t abandon her.

“She doesn’t put much trust in our steward to oversee the manor, even though the man is more than capable. ”

“I understand.” There was a despairing note in her voice. “I’m not certain we can ever resolve this, Alasdair, when we’re both committed to our own land.”

The hell they couldn’t resolve it. “Don’t say that. We—”

“Freyja.” The commanding voice of Lady Helga cut through the courtyard, and he swallowed the curse that hovered on his tongue at the interruption.

Freyja turned to her grandmother as the old lady approached them, and belatedly he realized he still had his arms around her.

It was harder than it should have been to release her.

Lady Helga paused some distance from them and gave him a scrutinizing glance before returning her attention to Freyja. “We have things to discuss.”

Freyja gave him a doleful smile. “Ye’ll not leave yet, will ye?”

“No. I’ll be here when Lady Helga is done with ye. We still have things to discuss, also.”

As he watched her walk off with her grandmother, only one thought pounded through his head. No matter what it took, he intended to wed Freyja and take her to Dunochty.