Page 56 of Highlander’s Haunted Past

Then, at last, she began to contract around him, her muscles rippling against him, drawing him deeper. It was all that he could stand, and, with one final thrust, he felt himself explode within her.

They stayed there, their breaths heavy through their slight smiles. Rob leaned in to kiss her again, slow and gentle. He slipped his arms all the way around her and pulled her from the wall, taking a few steps back and turning to lay her back gently in the hay. She gazed up at him, her eyes as glassy as a loch at sunrise, with a content smile.

He collapsed beside her, resting one arm over the top of her protectively. If he had known that this is what it was to have a wife, he would have agreed to such a thing so much sooner.

She curled up against him and let out a long, happy sigh.

“So, lass, did ye miss me?” he asked, unable to keep the smile from his face.

“Ye ken that I canna tell ye that.”

“Why not?”

She laughed. “I told ye before—ye have to beg fer such a revelation.”

“Was that not begging?”

“We seem to have opposing definitions.”

The sound of a horn, soft and melodic, floated through the air. It might as well have been a funeral dirge for all the joy it brought him. And, it would seem, Kenna shared his mind. She was still smiling, but the strength of it had faded a bit, and the light of it no longer reached her eyes. He couldn’t leave her looking like this, so lonely and sad.

With one quick roll, he propped himself overtop of her and gave her a long kiss. When he pulled away from her lips, he kissed her cheek, and then her nose, and then her lips once more before moving to her other cheek.

She giggled and took his face in her hands. “Enough, ye have to go.”

“Want me gone so badly? I should have seen that ye were only using me fer my body. I ken that I am a handsome lad, but I have feelings, ye ken.”

She rolled her eyes and adjusted the bodice of her dress. “Ye are so insufferable. Why do I even put up with ye?”

Rob stood back and waved his hand over his body. “As I said before, I am a handsome lad.”

She smiled again, and he bent forward to kiss her. Would he ever have his fill of her?

The horns trumpeted once more off in the distance and Rob pulled away reluctantly. “I’d better go.”

“Ye had better come back soon.”

“Aye,” Rob replied, going into the neighboring stall and leading his horse out. “I mean, I have to come back. I’ve still got to get ye to confess that ye miss me when I’m gone, ye stubborn lass.”

“Goodbye, Rob,” she said, annoyed.

Rob turned, holding his hand up to wave goodbye. He tried to memorize her at that moment, lounging in the hay with a soft smile on her lips, her hair a wild crown all around her. He would see her again, he would share many more moments like this with her, but this image would have to be enough to carry him until he returned.

The ranks of men were just beginning to march from the city when Rob arrived, coming up beside Hugh, who was trailing behind the rest of the Frasers. The sight of the Queen’s army gave Rob a flutter of anticipation. Queen Mary had easily gathered two thousand men to her cause. There were kilts of every color, and dozens of flags displaying the coats of arms of the various clans gathered to fight in her name.

“Well, brother.” Rob leaned over to Hugh. “Do ye ken where we are marching?”

“The Queen’s scouts spotted Huntly’s army at Corrichie. They seemed a bit dug in, so I suppose that ought to be the place.”

“‘Tis not too far.”

“Nah, ‘tis not.”

Rob stretched his arms up into the air with a grin, still reveling in the slight tingle of his muscles that had lingered with him since he had left the stables. It had been so long since he had felt such a full and satisfying release; his body almost didn’t know what to do to tame the rush flowing through him.

“So, what did ye do with our short little return, Hugh?”

“I tracked down my wife,” Hugh said, giving Rob a strange and appraising look. “What did ye do?”

“I tracked down my wife, too.”

Hugh’s brows rose a little, and his gaze was now full of understanding.

The brothers rode side by side through the gates of the city. The crowds of people that had come to wish them farewell slowly dissipated until all that remained were children, running and skipping alongside the party. Lads and lasses alike raised wooden sticks like swords, laughing and giggling as men pretended to cower in fear as they passed by.

One of the little lads caught Rob’s eye. His hair was as red as Rob’s, though it curled about his head with a wildness that rivaled even Kenna. He skipped along with the other children with a playful ferocity, stubbornly holding his position at the front of the group.

Hugh came up beside him and followed his gaze silently. He appraised the boy and his brother, his eyes shifting slowly back and forth. “Will there be news of a future Laird or Lady of Lovat when we return?”

“Rob!” Murtagh shouted, “Yer father be looking for ye at the front of the line.”

“Ye never ken, do ye?” Rob said with a final wink at Hugh before digging his heels into the side of his horse and galloping off toward the front of the line, leaving Hugh alone behind him.