Gawen's Claim: Highlander Fate, Lairds of the Isles Book One Read online

  “’Tis a gift ye’re giving me, sweet Lila. I donnae intend tae take it lightly. I will take care nae tae hurt ye. I do confess, kenning that no other men have had ye before brings me great pleasure.”

  He sat her up, and with torturous slowness disrobed her of her gown and then her underdress, taking in every inch of her nude body with reverence.

  “Ye’re lovely, my sweet Lila. From every strand of yer hair,” he whispered, reaching up to tangle several strands of hair around his fingers, “tae the arch of yer throat . . .” He leaned forward to suckle at her throat, the act causing sparks of awareness to flutter in her chest. “The swell of yer breasts . . ."

  He peppered kisses down to her breasts, where he seized one aching nipple into his mouth, and then another, causing her to shudder with pleasure.

  She was panting with need when he lifted his lips from her breasts, pressing kisses down the expanse of her abdomen until he reached the juncture between her thighs.

  “And this,” he whispered, his green eyes looking up at her from between her thighs. “Yer sweet quim.”

  Lila cried out as his mouth clamped onto her soaked center, laving and suckling at her with his tongue. Her toes curled and her back arched; not even her magic had evoked such a reaction within her, this feeling of a powerful electrical surge coursing throughout her entire body.

  “Oh God,” she rasped, as he continued to feast upon her, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “Gawen . . .”

  “Ye’re so verrae sweet, my Lila,” Gawen whispered between licks. “I donnae think I’ll ever be able tae stop.”

  His words—and the sensations his tongue produced in her body—caused her back to arch and fireworks to explode throughout her as a powerful orgasm claimed her body. Gawen kept his mouth firmly clamped onto her center during the throes of her climax, holding firm even as her body stilled.

  She looked down at him, her breathing labored as she came down from the high of her orgasm.

  He stood, divesting himself of his tunic and kilt, looking like a Celtic god with his muscular torso, his gleaming fiery red hair, his intense green eyes that burned with lust. Her mouth went dry at the sight of his masculine beauty, her eyes taking in every part of his large, powerful body. As her eyes drifted down the hard length of him, desire paired with anxiety swirled through her.

  “Donnae fret, lass,” he murmured, reaching out to touch her face with tenderness, reading the mild panic in her eyes, “I promise I’ll be gentle with ye.”

  He held her gaze, waiting for her nod of acquiescence, and only then did he kiss her again, settling his strong body over hers. A thrumming desire built up within her at the feel of him. Gawen trailed his lips down to her jaw, and then her breasts, until she was quivering again, on the verge of another release.

  “Look at me, Lila,” he said gently. She obliged, meeting his eyes as he entwined his hands with hers, continuing to hold his burning green gaze as he slowly sank inside her.

  Lila gasped out at the sharp pain of his intrusion, and Gawen stilled, his face strained with effort as he leaned down to nibble at her lips, her throat. Lila trembled, her breath heaving, and soon . . . slowly . . . the pain faded, giving way to a sense of glorious fullness that she’d never felt before.

  She began to writhe beneath him, wanting more of this glorious feeling, this beautiful ache. Gawen chuckled, leaning down to brand her mouth with a fierce, searing kiss.

  “Patience, sweet Lila,” he murmured, and then he began to thrust in and out of her, causing another wave of desire to wash over her. She gasped, winding her arms around his broad shoulders as his hips began to undulate, and he let out a low, sexy growl of pleasure.

  Soon, there was only the feel of his sweat-slicked body against her own, his lips against her skin, his cock filling her with that amazing fullness. She wound her fingers in the silken strands of his fiery hair, the world dissolving around her as her pleasure built to a crescendo, and her body began to quake once more as a second climax roiled through her. Gawen let out a groan as he too began to shudder, holding her close as he emitted a guttural moan of pleasure.

  As they both caught their breath, Gawen remained on top of her for several moments before extricating himself. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her flush against him. She nestled her head into the crook of his neck, which smelled of his familiar scent of sandalwood.

  “Are ye well, lass?” he asked, reaching out to stroke her hair, his voice still husky with desire.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “There was pain at first, but it didn’t last for very long.”

  He sat up, pinning her with a puzzled gaze.

  “I donnae understand,” he said. “Ye’re the bonniest lass I’ve ever seen. How do ye remain untouched? Are the men fools in yer time?”

  Lila flushed at his compliment.

  “I’ve had two casual boyfriends, but it never got far with either of them. I’ve always been too focused on magic and time travel.”

  “I am glad ye’re untouched,” he murmured, something primal flaring in his eyes as he gave her a wolfish grin. “I’ve desired ye since I caught ye in my arms in that grove.”

  "Even though I'm a stiuireadh?"

  Her tone was light and teasing, but Lila hadn't forgotten his bitterness toward the stiuireadh.

  Gawen lowered his gaze, and Lila tensed. Had it been a mistake mentioning his distrust of her kind? But it was important to her that he trusted her, and she needed to know how he felt now.

  "My distrust of the stiuireadh is paired with my grief over losing my family," he said, and a stab of disappointment pierced Lila; he used "distrust" in the present tense. “I wanted them brought back tae me. I confess I still do. Grief . . . 'tis become my constant companion since they died."

  His expression darkened. She could sense him withdrawing from her, and she sat up, touching his face, as if willing him to stay with her.

  "Tell me about them," she said gently. "If you want to."

  She feared he'd refuse, that he'd dress and abruptly leave her chamber. Instead, his green eyes softened, and a smile touched his lips.

  "Sometimes," he murmured, "I can still hear my father's voice laughing from down the hall. He was verrae jovial, and I could hear his laugh from anywhere in the castle."

  "Let me hear it," Lila said, with an encouraging smile.

  He looked bashful for a moment, a faint blush staining his cheeks that matched his red hair, making him even more handsome. He sat up and drew in a breath before letting out a loud, bellowing laugh that reverberated around the chamber. It was indeed an infectious laugh, and she laughed in return.

  "Perhaps you've inherited your father's laugh," she said.

  "I'd like tae inherit a great deal more than that. He was a good man, admired by all. He took care tae ken all the people of the clan, from the lowest peasant tae the highest noble. He taught me tae do the same."

  "And your mother?"

  Lila listened as he recounted tales of his mother, how she'd let him and his sister sit at her knee when they were bairns as she embroidered, telling them tales of old Celtic myths. He told her of the vivaciousness of Gordana, so named because his parents had thought she was a lad when his mother was pregnant, how she liked to make everyone around her laugh, having inherited their father's jovialness.

  "Your sister reminds me of my sister, Avery," she said. "I was always the shy one; Avery was the life of the party. I love her dearly, but I've always envied her."

  "Ye shouldnae. Ye're lovely and ye're powerful," he said, reaching out to stroke the side of her face. "Believe that, my Lila."

  Warmth spread throughout her chest at the words "my Lila.” He shifted, propping his head up on his hand as he studied her with intense focus.

  "Tell me more about yer time," he said. "Do ye miss it?"

  "Strangely, no," she said, surprised by her own admission. "There are modern conveniences in the future, of course, but . . ." She gestured to the massive chamber that surrounded
them. "Living in a castle isn't half bad."

  He shared her chuckle, his eyes following hers around the chamber.

  "What about the other times ye've traveled tae? Have ye preferred any of them?"

  "I thought the nineteen twenties were fun, but there's something about this particular time that I enjoy the most. When Avery and I traveled to this time before, I instantly took to it. There's a peacefulness—a serenity—that I haven't found in any other time. Especially here in the Highlands."

  "I ken ye're only here for a short time," he said, causing an odd lurch of pain in her chest. “But I’m glad that ye enjoy it here the most.”

  He smiled at her, one of his rare, unguarded smiles that made his green eyes sparkle and his masculine beauty starker. But the sting of pain remained at the reminder of her temporary time here, of the still-unfinished task that loomed ahead of her.

  She forced the thought—and the pain—aside, as he reached out to tangle his hands in her hair, his eyes darkening with lust.

  “I want tae ask ye more about ye, about yer magic,” he said, his voice husky with need. “What ye ken about the ancient druids, how many spells ye ken. But first . . ." He gave her a sexy smile, pulling her in close to claim her mouth with his. Lila moaned as he pressed her down, adjusting his large body so that he hovered above her. “But first, sweet Lila, I want tae again explore this sinful body of yers . . .”

  * * *

  A sharp banging on the door interrupted the serene sleep Lila fell into after Gawen made love to her a second time, and they talked until fatigue claimed them, Gawen peppering her with questions about growing up in North Carolina and how it felt to perform certain spells.

  Now, Lila sat up, tucking the sheets around her as Gawen stirred with a scowl. It was just barely past dawn, the sun only beginning to highlight the interior of the chamber.

  “Gawen!”

  Lila stiffened; it was Aonghus’s voice, and he sounded as if he were on the verge of panic.

  “Gawen, I ken ye’re in there.”

  Gawen shot her a concerned glance before getting out of bed and shrugging into his long tunic. He crossed the chamber, swinging open the door.

  If it weren’t for the panic on Aonghus’s face, Lila would have felt embarrassed at him finding her in bed with Gawen. But Aonghus didn’t look surprised at all, his gaze only briefly straying to her before settling on Gawen.

  “There’s been another attack,” he said grimly. “And I fear ’tis the work of the dark witch ye’re looking for.”

  Chapter 15

  “I was separated from my hunting party,” said Kudan Munroe, a haunted look in his eyes. “I heard footsteps approaching. I thought it was one of my men.”

  Gawen sat at Kudan’s bedside in one of the castle’s guest bedchambers, where Kudan's hunting companions had brought him after the attack. Aonghus and Lila hovered behind him.

  Gawen was relieved that Kudan had survived the attack; the castle healer had already tended to his injuries and wrapped his arm with cloth. Aonghus had informed Gawen that the attack had taken place during a hunt and was directed only at Kudan.

  Kudan was the son of one of his father’s now deceased friends, Ivor Munroe, and had never caused anyone trouble. He couldn’t fathom why the witch had attacked him.

  Gawen kept his eyes trained on Kudan, trying not to betray his fear and ignoring the gnawing guilt in his gut. While he’d lain entwined in bed with Lila, the aingidh had attacked one of his men.

  “But . . . it wasnae any of the men from my hunting party. It was a lass. She told me she was called Malmuira; she looked at me with such fury. She lifted her hands, and . . .” Kudan trailed off, lowering his gaze, his face growing more pale.

  “Ye can tell me,” Gawen said gently, though dread swirled throughout his veins.

  “She lifted her hands, and a fire began tae blaze in the clearing around me. It surrounded us both. I—I donnae ken how she did such a thing, how she—" Kudan stopped, taking a shuddering breath.

  Icy fear clawed at Gawen’s throat.

  “What happened then?” Gawen pressed.

  “The fire—it was on my arm. Burning my flesh," Kudan whispered, his hand drifting to his wrapped arm. "I—I was certain I would burn alive. I pleaded with her, begged her tae spare me. My words didnae seem tae affect her, until she looked—bewildered. I started tae scream; there was so much pain and then—it ended. The fire was gone, and so was she. She'd vanished." Kudan closed his eyes, taking another shuddering breath. “I—I think I’ve gone mad.”

  Gawen closed his eyes. No, he hadn’t gone mad. He'd encountered the very witch they were looking for. This was Gawen’s failure; he’d allowed another attack to take place on his lands.

  “What did she look like? Malmuira?” Lila asked, stepping forward.

  Gawen spared a glance at her, noticing the paleness of her face, and the guilt that shadowed her eyes. She must have been blaming herself for what happened, when he was the one to blame.

  Kudan looked too dazed to question why Lila was here, or why she was asking him questions. He still looked lost in the dark memory, staring down at his hands as he answered.

  “She was a wee lass. Barely reached my shoulder. Long black hair she wore loose, down tae her waist. Her eyes," he continued, his voice beginning to quaver, "they—they were unnatural. The color of silver or a gray stormy sky. There was death in those eyes.”

  Lila paled even further, and a chill spread through every part of Gawen's body. He leaned forward, making Kudan look at him.

  “Did ye tell yer men what happened?"

  “I didnae want them tae think I was mad," Kudan replied, shame flickering across his face. "I told them I slipped from consciousness and awoke tae my burning arm. We'd been drinking ale before. I think they just assumed I’d imbibed tae much and started a fire.”

  Relief swelled over Gawen; he didn't know if any of the nobles who knew about the stiuireadh were on the hunt with Kudan, but he didn't need knowledge of the witch to spread. It would only cause panic. There was a reason those who knew about the stiuireadh were sworn to secrecy.

  He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. He now had his trusted guards who did know about the dark witch scouring the area where she'd attacked Kudan, searching for anyone suspicious, though he doubted they would find her.

  “Kudan, I want ye tae ken ye’re nae mad,” Gawen said. “I'll have a guard accompany ye back tae yer home after ye've had more time tae rest, but I need yer word that ye’ll keep the truth of what happened tae yerself. I'm sure that rumors have already begun tae spread, but I’ll handle the matter.”

  Surprise filled Kaden’s expression, but he gave him a hasty nod.

  "Aye," he said. "But, my laird, if I'm not mad . . ."

  Gawen held Kudan’s confused gaze for a long moment. Kudan had suffered near death at the hands of this aingidh; he deserved the truth. He turned to Aonghus and Lila, who both gave him nods.

  "Aonghus will tell ye what ye saw," he said. "Ye take all the time ye need tae rest; I’ll have the healer tend tae ye till ye’re well. I’ll visit with ye again later."

  He stood, briefly resting his hand on Kudan's shoulder before leaving, trailed by Lila as Aonghus remained behind, closing the door behind him.

  He and Lila didn't speak a word until they were back in his study. Lila still looked pale, and he wanted to reassure her. It was his job to protect the men of his clan; Kudan’s attack was his fault and not hers. But before he could tell her this, Lila spoke up.

  “I need to know everything you can tell me about Kudan Munroe. This aingidh, Malmuira, identified herself to him and attacked him for a reason—and she spared him for a reason.”

  “Kudan and his family have been part of Clan MacRaild for as long as I can remember. My father was friendly with his father, Ivor; Kudan and his cousin Struan even spent time at our castle when they were lads. Kudan's father died of the same illness that took my family; his mother died long ago in childbirth. Ivo
r mourned so deeply that he never remarried. No one has ever spoken ill of Kudan nor his father."

  Lila considered his words before expelling a sigh. He could tell by her expression that his words hadn’t helped.

  “I need to go to the clearing where he was attacked,” she said, her brow furrowed. “Maybe I can pick up her trail somehow."

  He nodded his agreement, studying her. An apology sprang to his lips for last night; he should have contained his desire. Their lovemaking had distracted them both.

  Yet a comforting warmth spread over him as he recalled how Lila had wanted to know more about him and the family he’d lost. None of the lasses he'd bedded before or considered courting, including Achdara, had expressed such interest in him or his family. Lila had held on to every word, allowing him to reminisce, and to his surprise, he didn't feel the sharp pain in his gut when he spoke of his departed family. There was the lingering grief, aye, the grief he'd suspected would always be there, but now when he spoke of his family it was only with affection and loving nostalgia.

  And there was the softness of Lila’s beautiful body, the innocence she’d gifted to him that had filled him with a primal sense of possession. Even now his cock stirred at the memory of her luscious body beneath his: her sweat-slicked skin, her panting moans, the sweetness of her quim.

  He forced the images aside, opening his mouth to apologize, but Lila was already making her way to the door and he knew that now wasn't the time. A heaviness settled over him as he followed her out; their time together last night had been a brief, glorious respite from the darkness this Malmuira posed . . . a respite they couldn’t risk enjoying again.

  * * *

  Unease trickled down Gawen's spine as he took in the clearing where Malmuira had attacked Kudan. There was still a scorched patch of earth where she'd surrounded Kudan with fire. Terror swirled through his chest at the knowledge that someone with this much dark power stalked his lands.