Page 23 of Sins of a Scot (Bound by a Highland Curse: The Morgan’s Clan Stories #7)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

W hen Iseabail arrived at the horses, they still appeared to be a little troubled, but looking about her, she could see nothing that could have caused it. She had been surprised, in the cottage, to hear them sounding distressed. She and Owen had traveled that far out into the country that she couldn’t imagine anyone else stumbling upon them by accident. Besides, they had the horses hidden well so as not to be discovered by the man they sought.

At the thought of the wretched fiend, she physically shivered, for she had not missed his leering eye as she had rounded the table in the grubby, run-down cottage. In fact, had she not been so desperate to discover the location of the crystal, she would have suggested to Owen that they leave immediately.

And then, there was the incident with the wine.

Thank God fer Owen’s sharp eye.

They could have been drugged, and with Owen incapacitated, what the man might have done with her afterwards didn’t bear thinking about. Another shiver ran through her body as her imagination went to dark places. Shaking her head, as though that might rid her mind of the horrid images, she began looking around on the ground.

Perhaps it had not been a person who had spooked the horses. Perhaps it had been something else, and with trepidation, for she knew the excruciating pain a snake bite could cause, she treaded carefully through the long grass with her eyes wide, searching for a slithering object of terror.

But no matter how hard she looked, she could find nothing.

Perhaps the horses’ reaction scared it away, whatever it was.

With the horses now settled, Iseabail turned back toward the cottage. She dreaded the idea of entering it again, but she had to try and convince the man to give her that crystal. He had it; she knew that now. But what could she offer him to part with it? There was one thing she certainly wouldn’t be offering him, not in a thousand years. But there had to be something the man wanted.

Just as she reached the gate of the surrounding garden, the front door flew open. Owen appeared, and began taking determined strides toward her. It didn’t take long for him to reach the gate.

“Move. Get tae the horses and dinnae turn back,” he said sharply.

Iseabail didn’t stop to ask why, and spinning on her heels, she hurried back the way she had come. With his long strides, Owen was soon at her side, and taking her by the arm, he pulled her along even faster. His face was like stone, and while Iseabail wanted desperately to discover what had happened in her absence, she realized that this was not the time to ask.

Upon reaching the horses, he still did not speak, and swiftly helping her onto her mare, he leaped up and mounted his own beast.

“We must go now,” he grunted, flicking the reins.

Iseabail followed suit, and the two horses galloped along at great speed. They left the little cottage far behind them, traveling over several miles. Still, Owen did not speak a word, and never before seeing him like that, Iseabail was nearly too afraid to confront him.

But the further they went, the more frustrated she got. When Owen had first departed the cottage, Iseabail had done as he had asked. Clearly, something had happened. But they had journeyed some way now, and Iseabail could stand this silence no longer.

“Stop, Owen,” she called out. “We need tae stop.”

He pulled back on his reins and brought his horse to a gentle stop, while at the same time, looking behind him with intense interest.

“What is it? Are ye waiting fer him tae come after us?”

“Better tae be aware o’ the possibility than tae be taken off guard,” Owen replied, while his eyes still roved the glen behind them.

“But why would he come after us?” Iseabail asked, still feeling completely confused. “What did ye dae tae him?”

“Nae half as much as I would have liked,” he growled.

“Are ye going tae tell me what happened?” she pressed.

Owen then turned to face her. After a long and rather intense look, he reached a hand into his tunic. His fist was balled when he withdrew it, and Iseabail, suddenly realizing what it might be, gasped and held her breath.

“Och, me God,” she blurted, when Owen finally opened his hand to reveal the large crystal. “Ye did it,” she cried, nearly shaking with excitement. With her eyes still firmly glued onto the crystal, she continued, “Ye did it, Owen. Och, me God, I cannae believe it.”

Completely forgetting Ada’s words of warning in her exhilaration, she reached out a hand to touch it.

“Nae, Iseabail!” Owen barked desperately, pulling his hand swiftly back. “Ye cannae touch it. Nae ever, dae ye understand?”

“Aye, aye. O’ course,” she said, nodding as Owen’s firm command reminded her of the healer’s warning. “I just cannae believe ye have it.” She then lifted her eyes to look at Owen. “But how did ye dae it? How did ye get him tae give it tae ye?”

A wary expression flashed across Owen’s face, and then he said, “He didnae give it tae me. I took it from him.”

Iseabail gasped again. Jerking her head behind her, she said, “And that is the reason ye’re worried he’ll come after us,” understanding his urgency in leaving.

“Aye,” Owen said, “that is the reason. Now, we need tae continue on. It’ll be nightfall soon. We need tae find somewhere tae bed down.”

They were too far out to return to the healer’s cottage, and besides, Laird Sutherland’s keep was in the opposite direction to Huna. Dusk was falling fast, and with no sign of any shelter on their travels, they were forced to find a small clearing in a wooded area.

“It’s nae ideal,” Owen said, looking about him when they had dismounted, “but it will dae. Stay close tae the horses. I’ll go and find some firewood.”

After Owen had ventured into the darkening woods, Iseabail made herself useful. Clearing dead leaves from underfoot, she unfurled the thin blanket that was tied to her horse, and placed it on the ground. After that, she rummaged through their bags, seeing what food they had left. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough to sustain them for a night.

A little while later, Owen returned with an armful of kindling and larger sticks. He disappeared no less than three times, returning each time with more firewood. When he was finally done, he arranged the wood carefully and began the tedious job of lighting it.

Iseabail watched him mindlessly, for though her eyes were looking at what he was doing, her thoughts were somewhere else entirely. In two days, they would reach Laird Sutherland’s castle. She was more than desperate to see her father and Keane again, and now that she and Owen were in possession of the crystal, the laird would release them unharmed, if he kept his promise.

She ought to have been elated, excited, jumping for joy. Instead, a shroud of sadness wrapped itself around her. Though they had faced dreadful obstacles, and several experiences that had brought both of them close to death, she was certain that all they had gone through had only strengthened the bond between them. That was how she felt, at least.

From a rocky beginning, she had grown to love the man before her. So much so, that she did not want to think of her life without him in it. And yet, they could never be together. That was her reality, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She had only told Owen part of Laird Sutherland’s demands, that he would trade her family’s lives for the crystal. But the biggest secret, which she had been holding onto, now ate at her insides.

Ought she to tell him? If she did, what distress would that cause him? They were deeply in love with each other, that much was clear. If she told him, it would break his heart. She knew it would break hers too, but her heart was already on the verge of shattering, knowing what was ahead of her.

For they only had a few more days together. Did she not want to relish the time she had left with him? Selfishly, she did, even knowing that when he discovered the truth, it may well hurt him even more.

I dinnae want our last days filled with tension and pain. Surely, I want tae treasure the time we have left, and make the most o’ it.

Nodding to herself, Iseabail concluded that she would keep her secret. Nothing good would come of her sharing it now. And perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps Owen would understand why she had not told him when the time came. Her heart would break as much as his, and yet, she would forever cherish every second they had spent on their quest.

“Iseabail!” Owen said bluntly.

Gasping, Iseabail was swiftly pulled out of her thoughts, and blinking, she jerked her head to look at him.

“Are ye all right?” He frowned. “I’ve been talking tae ye fer five minutes.”

“Aye,” she replied hurriedly. “I’m fine.”

Owen gazed at her with the same concern. “Ye are thinking about yer faither and braither,” he said, coming to the only conclusion he could, given what he knew.

“Aye,” she lied. “I am.”

“Ye ken it’s in Laird Sutherland’s best interest tae keep them alive and well, dinnae ye? He’s clearly desperate tae get his hands on what we have. He’s nae going tae put that in jeopardy by harming yer family.”

“Aye. I ken that. I just dinnae trust the man.”

Owen nodded. “I suppose I cannae blame ye. But in a few days, this will all be over. Ye’ll have yer family back, and ye can return home happy.”

She didn’t quite know what to say to that, and so, trying to avoid lying to his face again, she said, “It will be good tae see them. It’s been so long.”

Once the fire was going, they sat and ate the last of the bread, meat, and fruit Ada had kindly packed for them that morning. Later, they shared the bottle of wine, relaxing after yet another stressful day.

“It feels like every day we’ve been together has been one disaster after another,” Iseabail sighed. “And in a few days, we will have tae face the worst challenge o’ all.”

“Perhaps,” Owen replied, taking her hand tenderly in his, “but afterward, all this will be over. Ye can go back tae living yer life again.” He bent his head toward her and softly nuzzled her neck. “Maybe then, we will have a chance at a future together.”

Iseabail gasped at the sensation, her body tingling and sparking at the soft caress of his lips. Moving her head, she offered her throat willingly to him, inviting his touch. With her eyes closed, she heard Owen shift, and a second later, his lips brushed against hers with the lightest, softest touch.

Her arms slid around his body and slowly, she found herself being lowered backwards. Eventually, she felt her back against the earth, while Owen, propped up on one elbow, lay beside her. Parting her lips, she bid his tongue entry. He roved about inside her, heightening her desire, and eliciting an ache at the apex at her thighs. Their kiss became more desperate, Iseabail grasping his body, trying to pull him even closer, as though his proximity would somehow satisfy her deep, innate desire for him.

“I want ye, Iseabail. I want ye so very much,” he growled against her lips.

“And I want ye,” she gasped. “More than anything I have ever desired in me life.”

She felt him tugging at her frock as he continued to express his passion with his fervent kiss. She knew what he wanted, and willingly, she parted her legs to give him access. Owen pushed himself up and positioned himself between her thighs, but to her surprise, he moved further back. Lifting her head to see what he was doing, she watched him smile at her as he lay on the ground, his head settled close to her aching body.

“I want tae taste ye, Iseabail.”

He then moved his head closer. Suddenly she took a sharp intake of breath as a sensation more intense than any other she had yet felt flowered across her body.

“Oh, me God,” she cried, as his tongue flicked against her folds.

“Och, ye taste so sweet, me love,” he growled, his hands holding her thighs firmly at either side of his head.

Her back arched, and she panted as he continued, over and over, exploring her most intimate parts. Never had she known such pleasure, and quickly, she began climbing, her body aching for more.

“Oh, oh, oh,” she panted, her insides tensing, her nipples aching, her whole body losing itself in an ecstasy that carried her to a place of utter bliss.

Owen growled beneath her, clearly aroused at her cries of pleasure. When she thought the sensation could not get any more intense, he pressed himself harder against her, and moved his tongue even faster.

“Oh, me God,” she gasped, pushing her head back against the soft ground beneath her.

Her ecstasy took over, her muscles tensing and her body shaking. She held her breath, her arms and legs trembled, and as she climbed higher and higher, she suddenly cried out as her body spasmed over and over. Ripples of pleasure ran through her, flooding her very being. She felt as though she were floating. Like she had lifted off the ground and now soared far above the earth. For a long moment, she basked in the serene feeling of utter bliss, but clearly, Owen was not finished.

Moving up her body now, Owen slipped his huge manhood inside of her slowly. With a hand resting on either side of her shoulders, he rocked back and forth, gently pressing himself deeper into her.

“Ye are so soft and warm and tight, Iseabail,” he grunted. “I love being inside o’ ye.”

Iseabail could only whimper, for as she started climbing again so soon, she could find no words. He gazed down at her, his face flooded with utter delight, his eyes boring into her very soul. He was trembling now, thrusting into her, deeper, and faster.

“Oh God,” Iseabail cried, grabbing at his shoulders, pulling her into him even more.

Their hips moved in unison, as though they were one, the tension building between them, higher and higher, so close to the edge. Iseabail never wanted to let him go, and gazing up at him, she drank in his face, his lips, his soft, passion filled eyes. They both panted, a sheen a sweat glistening on their bodies, even in the cold of the night.

“Och, Iseabail,” Owen groaned.

And as she peaked once again, her body spasming beneath him, Owen let out a mighty roar, his whole body stilling as he emptied himself inside of her. Still trembling as he held himself above her, he gave her the most intense look she had ever seen.

“I love ye, Iseabail. Nay matter what happens, I will always love ye.”

Later, when they were wrapped up together in Owen’s huge plaid to keep them warm, Iseabail listened to his soft breathing as he slept beside her. She was exhausted, but while sleep had come so effortlessly to Owen, she had not been blessed with the same ease.

More than ever now, her heart pained her, and while he slept, she cried silent tears of sorrow. What a great loss she was about to suffer. The only man she had, and would, ever love would be torn from her grasp. It was an unbearable sacrifice, a sacrifice that now caused her physical pain. Her life would never be the same, and in some ways, she wished she had never met Owen Sinclair. But she had, and he had shown her what love truly looked like.

In a few days, however, she would lose him. He would become just a memory. But a memory she swore she would cherish forever and never forget.