Page 31 of Wild Highland Rose (Time After Time #4)

M arjory stood by the shell of a window and looked at the stars, thinking, as she always did, of her mother.

Happiness would be all that her mother's spirit would wish for her now.

No cry for vengeance would come from those long dead lips.

Gleda would only want for her daughter to find a love as rich as the union she had shared with Marjory's father.

Marjory tried to reach inside herself, to find her anger and her pain, but all she could think of was the man lying on the pallet by the fire. Heaven help her, she wanted him. As surely as there were clans in Scotland, she wanted this man, whoever he turned out to be.

She sighed and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the early morning chill. One thing was for certain. He was not the man she had been forced to marry, not the man who had taken her with the callousness of a conqueror. She shivered again, but this time it wasn't the cold.

"You're going to catch your death."

Marjory felt the meager warmth of Cameron's blanket wrap around her shoulders. She leaned back against him, letting her body mold to his.

"Are you wishing on the stars?" His voice curled around her, warm and alive, lighting fires deep within her.

"I dinna believe in such nonsense." But she wanted to, oh heavenly Father, she wanted to.

Cameron pulled her closer, his chin resting on her head.

"Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight.

I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.

" He paused for a minute, looking up at the night sky.

"I'm pretty sure my mother used to recite that for me. And then I'd make a wish."

Marjory stared up at the twinkling stars, and felt hope blossoming. "My mother always said they were angels."

"Maybe they are." His voice was soft, thoughtful. "If so, then maybe one of them is my mother."

"Mine, too." She twined her fingers through his, not wanting the moment to end. "Except that I don't believe in them anymore."

"If you did, what would you wish for, Marjory mine?"

She turned in his embrace, amazed at her own boldness. He met her gaze and she caught her breath. His face was close to hers, so close she could feel his breath as it stirred tendrils of her hair.

She swallowed convulsively. She could feel the blood coursing through her body. "I'd wish for you, Cameron."

His arms tightened around her. "You called me Cameron." He leaned even closer and she shivered as his hair brushed against her cheek.

"'Tis your name."

"Yes, but you've never used it before." He whispered the words and they came out sounding like a caress.

"I know." She swallowed again, trying to focus on his words. "But 'twould be wrong to call you by another man's name. And you're no' Ewen Cameron, of that I'm certain."

"How can you be so sure?" His eyes searched hers, the intensity there almost as dazzling as the stars.

"Ewen canna swim."

He laughed, a rich, deep sound that echoed off of the remaining walls of the cottage. She tried to pull away, unexpectedly hurt by his laughter, but he pulled her back, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"Wait, Marjory. I wasn't laughing at you. It's just that after all this time and everything I've been through, I find it amazing that something as insignificant as swimming could convince you."

She looked up at him, letting his words sink in. Her heart had begun its staccato beating again. His warmth flowed into her, robbing her of strength. She leaned against him, trying to find words for what she was feeling. "'Tis just that…"

"Hush." He placed a finger over her mouth.

"There's been enough talking." With one swift movement, his lips replaced his hand.

Marjory felt his tongue trace the contour of her bottom lip, and opened her mouth in response.

Her insides turned to liquid fire, their tongues thrusting and parrying almost as if they dueled.

Marjory wondered, briefly, what they battled for and then lost the thought as his mouth left hers and strayed to the curve of her throat.

The blanket he'd given her fell to the floor.

She moaned in ecstasy, feeling a place deep inside her tighten and throb with need.

No one had ever made her feel this way before.

She reached for his head, pressing it into the soft skin of her throat.

She shivered with delight as he followed one tender wet kiss with another.

Her hands curled instinctively into the soft silkiness of his hair.

She tipped back her head, offering herself to him.

He licked lightly at the swell of her breast above where the other blanket covered it.

Suddenly she wanted more. Much more. Her nipples hardened and she wondered what she was anticipating, but almost as quickly as the thought came, it fled in the wake of sensation.

She was on fire, and somehow she knew, innately, that Cameron was the only one who could put it out.

He tugged at the knot at her shoulder. She pushed his hand aside and slowly released the knot, allowing the blanket to fall to the floor.

Skin met skin as he sighed, pulling her close, accepting her offering, letting his body heat warm her.

His hands massaged the small of her back, circling lower to cup her bottom.

His manhood pressed, hot against her thigh, and a curious sense of elation filled her. This was the way it was supposed to be between a man and a woman. She didn't know how she knew, but she was certain.

He bent his head, his mouth covering her breast. All thought stopped at the rough feel of his tongue as it laved her skin.

He sucked, briefly, at the peak, releasing it and blowing softly.

Marjory felt, as much as heard, the moan that escaped her lips, coming from somewhere deep within her. She pushed against him, wanting more.

He smiled. She could see the white of his teeth in the shadowy light. Lifting her up into his arms, he held her against his chest, and she marveled at the feel of his skin against hers.

"You're sure?" A shadow flickered across his face. "This doesn't change anything." The words came out a mere whisper, but Marjory could not mistake the meaning.

She reached up to cover his lips with her finger, to stop him from saying anything more. "I want you, Cameron." She met his gaze. She had never been more sure of anything in her life. Her body cried for his in a way older than time. Whoever he was, for tonight at least he belonged to her.

He walked to the pallet and gently laid her on the makeshift bed.

She shivered as the cold air washed across her.

Instinctively, she raised her arms, calling to him, offering him all that she had, all that she was.

He bent and stripped off his trews. She gasped at the sheer size of him.

He stood before her, a warrior. Her warrior.

He gently laid himself over her, resting his weight on his elbows.

Their eyes met and she sucked in a breath at the desire she saw reflected in the depths of his eyes.

He bent to kiss her again. This time as softly as a butterfly.

She felt her own desire rising. She wanted more from him. So much more.

She shyly reached down and circled his strength.

He sucked in a breath and she stroked the length of him, amazed at the combination of velvet and steel.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue invading her mouth.

She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer, reveling in the feel of his weight against her body.

He stroked the side of her hip, sending ripples of pleasure washing through her.

His lips wandered down her shoulder, placing light nipping kisses as they passed.

Reaching her breast, he pulled it deep into his mouth and began to suck.

She cried out with the joy of it, sensation rocking her, pulling at her very core.

His hand stroked along her belly, inching lower, tangling in the curls at the apex of her thighs. She tightened, squeezing her legs together. He lifted his head, meeting her gaze. "Trust me."

How many times had he said this to her? And always, always he had held true to his words. A fleeting image of Aida crossed her vision. She fought against it. She would not let that woman in here. Not now.

With a breath like a sigh, she relaxed her legs. His mouth again found her breast and she tipped back her head, wanting more. His hand caressed the length of her thigh. Her body tightened in anticipation and she held her breath, waiting for his fingers to move higher.

With one finger, he parted the satiny folds that guarded her secret most place.

In an instant, he was inside her, his finger stroking, stroking, stroking.

She arched against him unable to control the shudders that rocked through her.

Her muscles clenched at the sensation, and she wondered how a body could stand this kind of pleasure.

His lips left her breast and he trailed long tender kisses along the soft swelling of her stomach, the combination of his mouth and hands making her wild. She moaned with disappointment when he removed his finger.

"Patience, Marjory mine, patience." His voice was rough with emotion.

She writhed against him, desperate for more, crying out when his mouth found the sweet soft core of her, his tongue darting in and out, in and out, until she thought she'd explode. Sensation surrounded her, driving her higher and higher, until there was nothing but fire and need.

He changed the rhythm, moving higher and circling her tiny nub with featherlike strokes, faster and faster, until the world burst into shards of color. She reached for him, holding on as spasms of pure joy racked her body. Never had she ever dreamed she could feel like this.