Highland Fling Part 5

She rolled from beneath him and onto her knees to face him. It was an incredibly erotic position, with her backside in the air and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s hanging heavy and full. The heat of the fire licked along her exposed backside and her slick channel. She arched her back. This must be what a cat in heat felt like-totally driven by the need, the urge to mate withMacTavish . Poor kitty. Nothing less than the length of his c.o.c.k would satisfy her.

She shook her head and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s swayed. "No. It's not my touch I crave-that wouldn't satisfy me at all. That's really not what I need." She looked at him from the top of his head, past his broad shoulders and muscled arms, past his belly to his jutting erection and powerful thighs, letting him see in her eyes what she wanted. She looked at his sheathed c.o.c.k, and just to make sure there was no mistake, she licked her lips.

"Come here," he said. His commanding tone and hot glittering eyes belied the lazy smile that curled his lips.

Maybe it was because she was in charge all the time, of everything, that it came as quite a surprise that she didn't want to be in charge in the bedroom. That it was even more of a turn-on to let him take the lead. Still on her hands and knees, she closed the small gap separating them.

"Now tell me what it is you need," he said.

Kate slid one hand beneath the black silk of his hair and cupped the strong column of his neck, pulling him to her. She brushed his lips with hers. "I want you." She slipped her tongue along his lower lip. "I need you."

His mouth captured hers. Bold, demanding, he tested her response and she answered, meeting his tongue with hers. He cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s in his hands and toyed with them while he kissed her hard. His tongue in her mouth...his fingers tweaking her nipples...on her knees, her legs spread, her s.e.x ready, quivering...she moaned into his mouth.

He released her and got to his knees. "Turn around and face the fire."

Kate turned. She'd never tried it from behind, it had always struck her as somewhat coa.r.s.e and demeaning. Now it felt elemental and primal and very right. She dropped to her elbows and wriggled her bottom toward him in invitation.

"Oh, la.s.s..." He grasped her hips in his hands and teased each of her cheeks with his thumbs, spreading her wider. The fire heated her face, but his body heat scorched her from behind. He hesitated the tip of his c.o.c.k at her opening. "You are so wet and hot."

"For you,MacTavish . Only for you."

That seemed to break through his control. In one smooth motion he entered her.

In that instant it was as if everything inside her stilled, a pause that served as a moment of recognition. For an instant she could swear she stopped breathing, her heart stopped beating, that she ceasedbeing. She sensed the same sensation inMacTavish and then it was as if they were both swept up in a maelstrom of want and need and being. Every sensation, every thrust, every stroke of him inside her, every brush of his thighs against her, every sensation was more intense, magnified. It was as if each thrust brought her closer to something she both craved and feared. But it didn't matter because her will was no longer her own. She was caught up in something greater than herself that she didn't quite understand but was powerless to stop even if she wanted to, which she didn't.

"Oh, Katie-love..."

"MacTavish..." She hurtled along on an o.r.g.a.s.m that took her where she'd never been and then brought her back, marked, changed, a different person. It was as if she'd found a piece of herself she'd never known was missing.

She lay with her eyes closed, feelingMacTavish's weight on top of her, his breath against her hair, the fullness of him still inside her, and panic swamped her.

What if she opened her eyes and found that she'd hurtled forward to the twenty-first century and taken him along with her? That s.e.x could've certainly done it. What if she opened her eyes and she and MacTavish were naked and connected on the museum floor? More horrifying still, what if they were naked and connected in the ER?

It was like one of those bad dreams come true where you find yourself walking naked down the street. Or at least it had the potential to be. But thus far all she heard was the thundering of her own heart and the rasp ofMacTavish's breathing.

Kate squinted her eyes open.

It was almost a relief to find herself still in the eighteenth century, in a castle, on her stomach in front of a fire.

MacTavishwrapped his ma.s.sive arms around her from behind and nuzzled her neck and shoulder. "Katie-love, I'm glad you found your way naked to my bed."

She laughed, but it actually came out as more of a sigh. "Hmmm. That was definitely worth the trip." She could definitely use a little more of that before she returned home.

He withdrew and Kate rolled to her side, the better to admire his naked form. Even with his erection at half-mast, he was beautiful.

Admiration turned to dawning horror. Yes. There was something worse than if she'd transported them, naked and co-joined, to her work...and she was looking right at it. She couldn't believe it. Obviously one size didn't fit all.MacTavish had broken the condom.

DARACH LOOKED DOWN.That wasn't supposed to happen. "Bluidyh.e.l.l."

"Oh my G.o.d," she said, staring at him as if he were the devil himself.

"I am not dancing to celebrate, but 'tis not as if the world's come to an end."

"Not for you maybe. You're not the one who could've just gotten pregnant...or worse." She put her hands over her face. "I can't believe the rubber busted." She dropped her hands and eyed the useless "condom" stillsnugged around his rod, but open on the end. "But it obviously did."

He rolled off the inept device, walked over and tossed it into the chamber pot. "I have not got the pox because I have always used a sheep's bladder and they work a sight better than that." He turned to face her. She'd picked up his plaid and was busy wrapping it around her. "I'm no monk, but I have not bedded every la.s.s that looks my way."

"I'm sure they all look-young and old alike." She tied the plaid in place. Backlit by firelight, wrapped in his plaid, head held high, she looked like a Celtic queen.

Her tone obviously meant it an insult, but he'd take it as a compliment.

"'Tis a fair number-" he tried to lighten her mood "-despite my personality. But I've yet to get one with a bairn. As I said, the sheep has stood me well. When are your courses due?"

She shook her head. "I should pay more attention but I'm not sure." She took a deep breath. "It'll be fine. I just panicked for a moment." She tucked her hair behind her ear and he noted, not for the first time, that she possessed lovely, delicate ears. "And I never panic. I'm trained not to panic." She wrapped her arms around her middle and he had the distinct impression she was repeating it so it would be so.

Darach knew a moment of sympathy for her plight. He wouldn't panic-battle taught a man a clear head, else he wound up dead. But he could easily see where she would have lost her head. "'Tis to be expected. You're in a strange place, in a strange time, with a strange man and you've no idea if you can get back."

She shot a look at him that would've withered a lesser man. "Thanks,MacTavish . Now I feel much better. Not to mention I could be pregnant."

There'd been something different when he'd tumbled her-something fey and unfamiliar-she'd touched a part of him that had never been touched before. Now the thought that in that moment they might've created a bairn.... "If you were, 'twould definitely be better if you went back."

She eyed him as if he were a bit of offal clinging to her hem. "That would definitely make it more convenient for you, wouldn't it?" She turned her back to him and studied the fire as if it held the answers she sought.

To be sure, something strange had happened tonight for he'd never felt the need to explain himself to a woman before, but he found himself doing just that. "You do not understand. Idunnae ken what it is like in your Atlanta, but I would wager being aMacTavish therewouldnae be nearly as dangerous. And I cannae say it is only the English who would harm a child...or a woman. Many a Scotsman would as well. There is a fair number of men who consider wives and children as weaknesses to be exploited."

"I'm not sure that it's much better where I'm from. We have our share of psychopaths. Not that I want to stay, but surely it's not that bad here."

She had to understand, for her own safety. "You are safe enough here-as long as you stay in here, in this room. That's why I bound you to the bed. 'Twould be madness for you to go out on your own." He could protect her from the men in the castle by declaring her his own. But that brought danger from another source. "And were you carrying my bairn, 'twould not be safe for either you or the child."

He had enemies and he knew they only waited, biding their time, which was one of the reasons he'd never formed an attachment to any woman, why he'd never declared one particular woman his, why he'd made sure never to leave a woman with child. He'd not hand down what might very well be a death sentence.

The tilt of her head, the purse of her lips all bespoke skepticism. "But I saw women and children when I looked out the window."

"They all belong to the clanMacTavish , but none of the bairns are mine, nor are the women." Or they hadn't been until now. Now it was as if she belonged to him, with him, whether he wanted that or not. Even though he lived with a memory, one that haunted his sleep at night. He never spoke of it, but speak he would now and perhaps this stubborn woman would then understand. He grasped her by the shoulders. "I am laird by default. My two older brothers and my mother were all killed byCampbells . They were butchered like swine."

Horror and, more importantly, understanding flickered in her eyes, but she remained calm. "I'm sorry. That must have been horrible. Why? How old were you? How old were they?"

"I was six." It could have been yesterday. Nightmares kept the memory fresh. "My brothers were eight and ten. My mother had lost two bairns after me, but she was pregnant again. 'Twas a fine spring day and we'd spent the morn picnicking at a burn." He could still hear his mother's laughter as "her lads" entertained her with their antics. "Mother said we had to go, but I didn't want to leave. I had a fine time skipping stones across the burn and ch.o.r.es waited at home, so I hid."

For years afterwards, with the reasoning of a child, he'd longed to turn back time. If he'd come when she'd called him, if he hadn't hid, if his mother and brothers hadn't wasted time seeking him, they'd have been gone. They'd have been back and safe at the castle where no Campbell would've dared attack.

"While my mother and brothers searched for me, a band ofCampbells attacked. They killed them. They searched for me butcouldnae find me. I'd hidden well and good and I stayed hidden." He couldn't mask the bitter self-loathing for the role he'd played in their deaths.

She caught his hand in hers and her touch seemed to leech some of the bitterness from his soul. "You were in shock."

"Mayhap I was a coward." Aye, he lived with that every day as well.

Kate shook her head and frowned at him. "You were a child. The only thing you could've done was get yourself killed as well."

"There would've been no danger in that. I saw what they did to Gavin and terror struck me dumb. I crouched in my hiding place and p.i.s.sed myself while my brother died." 'Twas a shame he'd ne'er shared with anyone. "It would've been better to die trying. I was a coward once, but never again."

"Surely no one blamed you. Surely your father never blamed you."

"Blame me? Nay. He considered it a sign. From that day he considered me the true chosen laird and he trained me as such." "That sounds ominous." He'd learned to heft a claymore and broadsword at the same time, one in each hand, a deadly combination and a feat of which few grown men were capable. Every aching muscle, every torturous cramping of muscle had been penance. He shrugged. "'Twas my fate." "What happened to the men who killed your family?" She asked, but he could see it in her eyes that she already knew.

He nodded in affirmation. "They died. Each of them. 'Twastheir fate."

"You killed them, didn't you?"

"Aye. 'Twas my duty...and my pleasure. None died quick. I made sure of it." They'd paid for what

they'd done to his family. And even though they'd repaid their debt, extracting revenge hadn't lessened his.

"How old were you?"

"Ten. I spent four years in training and planning. Does that frighten you?"

"No. It doesn't frighten me. It disturbs me that you were put in that position. You were a child. What about your father?"

"Aye. He wanted the pleasure of killing them himself, but I begged to do it. 'Twas my debt to pay. And

he knew it would prove to the clans my worthiness of being laird even though I was a third son."

She didn't mask her distaste quite fast enough. Aye. How could she, a foreigner, ken the Highland ways?

"Is that how you came by that scar?"

"Aye. 'Twas the first man and I was not quite fast enough.Da made sure I got faster after that."

"What about your father? Is he still alive?"

"He died a few years ago. Nothing b.l.o.o.d.y. He just went to sleep and never woke up." She might not ken their ways, but he'd wager she understood the importance of not leaving this room and why no bairn of his belonged atGlenagan . "And you understand now?"

"Yes. I understand. The odds are that I'm not pregnant, but either way I'm going to do everything I can to figure out how to get myself home. And when I get there, if I'm pregnant, I'll do everything in my power to make sure nothing like that ever happens to my child."

His child. Their child. It left him with a distinctly odd feeling.

MAYBEMACTAVISH WASN'Tsuch an arrogant b.a.s.t.a.r.d after all. He stood before her-naked yet commanding, with his broad shoulders and heavily muscled arms, legs like strong trees, flowing black hair, and chiseled harsh features saved by a sensual mouth. Forget it. He was still arrogant, but now she understood life's harsh lessons that had shaped him.

A knock sounded on the heavy wooden door. Kate jumped, nearly clearing the floor. It had been far too easy to forget they weren't the only two human beings on earth.

"Your food." A man's voice-Hamish?-called from the other side.

Without regard for his naked state,MacTavish strode across the room. Uncertain as to who stood on the other side and still cautious after hearing his horrifying story-not to mention the fact that she was in that same harsh place in that same lawless time-Kate took cover in the deep shadows on the other side of the fire. Away from the heat, the chill of the stone floor bit into her bare feet. She fisted her hands in the wool she wore and s.h.i.+vered in the draft that seemed worse in this corner of the room.

MacTavishthrew open the door. Relief flooded her when she recognized Hamish's prematurely grey head. He carried a laden wooden tray. "Is she still here?"

Kate stepped forward. "Yes."

MacTavishnodded his head toward the room, motioning Hamish inside. "Come in."

Hamish did asMacTavish instructed. He crossed the room and placed the tray on the table next to her breakfast bowl.MacTavish closed the door.

Raking his hands through his hair,MacTavish turned to Hamish. "Can you give us no clue? No information as to why she's here and how she can get back?"

He shook his white head in wordless apology. "Would that I could be more helpful. But Idunnae ken any more than I have told. I am a go-between."

"A conductor?" Kate recalled her first impression of Hamish at the museum.

"Aye, mayhap a conductor. I recognize you, but Idinnae know you. I know about my life in the timeframe you are from. I know I exist there." He caughtMacTavish's eye. "'Twas the two of you what brought her here. 'Twill be the two of you that send the la.s.s back. 'Tis a puzzle you'll need to solve."

MacTavish'smouth drew a grim line across his face, leaving it harsh indeed.

Her conversation with Hamish in the museum hit her like a gale-force wind. How could she have forgotten something so terrible, so important? In her defense, the experience had been disconcerting to say the least and she'd been focused on herself and returning to Atlanta and the twenty-first century.

She'd much prefer Hamish bear the bad news. Maybe she could jog his memory. "Don't you recall the conversation we had in front of the painting last night before I came here?" Put that way, it sounded as if she'd taken a brief taxi ride.

"Nay. You are familiar but while I know of this time when I am in your time, that's because it is the past. But when I'm in the past, such as now, I can't know of then because it has not happened for me yet. Bits and pieces hover in the back of my mind, much like a dream you can't quite recall."

Great. It was up to her. How many times had she handed down a preliminary diagnosis from which a patient would never recover? How many times had she faced a family to tell them their loved one was lost, that the ER staff hadn't been able to save them, whether it had been to a gunshot wound or a heart attack or a stroke? Countless. She handed down death sentences on a far more regular basis than she liked. She sought the calm professionalism, the training that saw her through those moments, but couldn't seem to find it. Her stomach roiled even as she squared her shoulders and faced the man she'd just enjoyed incredible s.e.x with. There was nosugarcoating it and he struck her as a man who'd take his bad news straight up.

She lookedMacTavish in the eye. "You die in the spring of 1745 on the battlefield at a place called Drumossie Moor."

Other than sharing a brief glance with Hamish, his countenance didn't change, yet a sudden tension filled the room. "How do you know this?"

She nodded toward Hamish. "He told me. History's not my thing so it was all news to me. He said you were the lastMacTavish laird. You died without a wife or a child. And the men-" she looked toward Hamish "-I think you called themJacobites -"

"Aye. We beJacobites ."

Kate continued, "The men that didn't die on the battlefield were hunted down and killed." Unlike discussing a fatal disease or condition with a patient, calmly putting forth the facts ofMacTavish's impending demise chilled her. She s.h.i.+vered. "I'm sorry."

MacTavishpaced to the fire and stared into the flames, not acknowledging her last comment. A dark silence filled the room's s.p.a.ce. Finally he turned his back to the fire and faced her. "Did he tell you anything else? Think hard. Recount every detail. What may seem unimportant to you may mean something to us."

Kate once again repeated what she knew in the hopes that an overlooked fact would spill forth. She couldn't have made this journey in time simply to tell a man he and his people would soon perish. "He said you were the last laird of the clanMacTavish . You and your clansmen died on the battlefield and that was the end of not just your clan but all the Highland clans. You were all there because you wanted to restore Bonnie Prince Charlie to the throne."

"If the clans ended with that battle, 'tis apparent he never gained the throne. WasDrumossie Moor the destination that day or were we intercepted by the Sa.s.senach there?"