Highlander Avenged (14 page)

Jeanette grabbed his hand then and pulled him after her into a dark fissure in the mountainside.

J
EANETTE BURST OUT
of the confining fissure, pulling Malcolm behind her, and into a large sun-filled grotto where the ceiling of what had once been a cave had clearly collapsed long ago. A large pool of crystal-clear water was tucked up against the wall opposite the entrance and took up half the space in the grotto. It was surrounded by jagged rock walls that were covered in ferns and mosses and tiny blooming flowers of blues and yellows that she had not seen anywhere before. The walls were more darkly streaked where water trickled down them from above, splashing just enough to fill the grotto with quiet music, and decorating the plant life with droplets that sparkled in the slanting sunshine. The rest of the floor, from the edge of the pool to the spot where they now stood, was carpeted in thick mosses in more shades of green than she could count.

“ ’Tis beautiful,” Jeanette said, her words like a sigh.

“Aye, ’tis. Do you remember it this way?”

She was quiet as she turned, looking at every part of the grotto before she answered. “I have never been here before, not as a child, nor in my dream, but the entrance . . . the carved deer on the rock next to it . . . those I dreamed about.” Jeanette kept her voice even, quiet, though a thrill ran through her unlike anything she had ever experienced before, as if she’d been brought to the brink of discovering a secret treasure. But what was it?

She turned again, taking in the entire grotto. It looked as if it had been hidden here for ages, kept secret from anyone who wasn’t led here . . .

Led here. First she’d dreamt of this place, then the stag had literally led her here. But for what purpose?

“Do you see any more carvings like the deer?” she asked Malcolm.

“You look that way,” he said, signaling to her right. “I’ll look this way. Is there anything specific I should be looking for?”

Jeanette shook her head. “I do not ken, but I have been brought here for a reason and we must discover what it is.”

“That we will, angel mine.”

The endearment settled her jittery nerves and reminded her that she was not alone in this. Malcolm was here. Malcolm would keep her safe—she knew that, deep in her bones without any help from a vision. He turned away from her and began examining the stone wall surrounding them, and she did the same. Every few feet, at varying heights on the wall, she found carvings of animals done in the same distinctive style. Hares, wolves, an eagle, a serpent, a boar. No more deer.

They called out what they found to each other, for Malcolm found similar animals carved into the walls. When they had both reached the edge of the pool, they walked along it until they met each other.

“ ’Tis a magical place,” Malcolm said, wonder in his eyes.

“Aye, but I do not ken why I was brought here.”

Malcolm reached for her hand, enveloping it in his. “Perhaps we were brought here to understand that your dreams are not just dreams. Perhaps we were brought here to understand that you are a seer.”

She looked up and found him staring down at her, wonder and something deeper mingling in his expression as he bent to kiss her.

All thought left her mind as she moved into his arms and lost herself in his kiss. Heat surged through her, as if they stood in the heart of a fire, but it did not hurt. It urged, wrapping around them as if to draw them closer and closer together. Jeanette tilted her head back, baring her neck to Malcolm’s lips, building the heat even more. She ran her hands down his back and up again, reveling in the hard muscles that bunched and quivered beneath her touch. But it was not enough. She wanted his golden skin beneath her fingers. She found the pin that held his plaid at his shoulder, and released it, the heavy wool falling behind him. She tugged his tunic free and slid her hands under it, sliding her palms along his back, her breath hitching as his hand cupped her breast and she suddenly needed his palm against her skin, too.

“There are too many clothes between us,” she murmured against his lips.

“Aye,” was all he said, but he was suddenly busy at the laces of her gown, sliding it off her shoulders and down her arms as soon as they were loosened, the gown puddling at her feet.

When her hands were free of the garment she reached for his belt, letting it fall as her gown had, the rest of his plaid following it to the ground until she was left in her kirtle, and he in his tunic. Suddenly she grew shy.

“Angel?” He tipped her chin up so she had to look at him. “We will stop.”

Jeanette swallowed, and let herself see only Malcolm, see only the man she loved. Her breath hitched when she realized ’twas true. She loved him. It had happened so fast, ’twas unseemly, but still, it was true. In the space of ten days she had come to feel more for him than she had ever felt for any man.

Where she had seen only a bleak future for herself when Rowan became Guardian, now she could see happiness, a family of her own, a place for herself in the arms of this strong, honorable man. She was free to choose for herself now, unfettered by the need of the Guardian to choose the clan’s chief. She was released from the requirement to bide in Dunlairig, at least once Rowan was trained. For the first time in her life, Jeanette realized, she could do what she wanted without the weight of responsibility that came with being the future Guardian dictating her path.

And she wanted Malcolm for her own.

She shook her head slowly at him. “I do not want to stop, Malcolm. I ken we have not known each other long, and I ken that this is something best kept for the marriage bed, but if there is one thing I have learned these past weeks, it is that life is uncertain and hard and I do not want to depend upon the future for my happiness, for there may not be a future. I am happy with you.”

“And I am happy beyond experience with you, Jeanette, angel.”

“You did not hesitate in the forest to tryst with me.”

“Oh, aye, I did, a lot. But if we continue”—his eyes went dark and the heat that had faded while she pondered her future sprang back to life so fast, it took her breath away—“I will make you mine this day.”

She smiled, her heart blossoming at the thought that he wanted her that much. “And I will make you mine.”

He pulled her so close, only two thin layers of linen separated her from what she wanted more than anything—this man to be her own.

“Truly?” he whispered as he pressed a light kiss to her lips.

“Truly.”

She lifted his tunic once more, breaking the kiss long enough to rid him of it. Stepping back into the circle of his arms, he renewed his exploration of her with his lips as she reveled in the feel of his skin beneath her hands, allowing herself now to explore his back, his arms, skimming lightly over the scar of his remarkably healed wound, his buttocks, then moving her hands between them, running them over his chest. As she skimmed her fingertips over his taut nipples, he groaned and took her mouth with his, letting his tongue play over hers in a dance that sent shafts of desire through her. He swiftly untied the lace of her kirtle and slid it off her, then pulled her hard against him, the evidence of his desire hot between them.

Slowly he lowered her until her back sank into the cool, thick moss carpeting the grotto floor, and he lay over her, nestled in the cradle of her thighs. Instinctively she hooked her legs around his trim waist and pressed against him.

“Not yet, angel,” he whispered, his lips against her neck.

Jeanette’s heart hammered, and her body hummed with desire and heat. So much heat. And then Malcolm moved down her, trailing sweet kisses over her neck and her breast until he ran his tongue over her almost painfully peaked nipple, drawing a low moan from her such as she’d never heard from herself. She threaded her fingers through his hair, and pulled him closer, closer, until he chuckled and took her into his mouth, pulling hard on her nipple until she writhed beneath him, desperate to reach that peak he’d taken her to before. He moved to the other breast, raising her need even higher. His hand slid over her belly, down between them, until he touched that place between her legs that begged for pressure, for release. He slid a finger into her wetness.

“Aye. There—” Her voice was ragged.

He let out a low growl, as if pleased with what he found, then pulled his hand free.

“Nay, do not stop.”

“I have no intention of stopping. Jeanette, sweetheart of mine, open your eyes. I would look into them.”

She did, losing herself in the depth of his gaze, the love she saw there, the yearning, and the need that matched her own. She felt a different pressure between her legs, a welcoming pressure, and she followed the demands of her body and let her knees go wide as her hips raised to meet him. Slowly, oh so slowly, he slid into her until she felt a pull, then he retreated.

“You are sure,” he said, his teeth gritted together as if he were in pain.

Jeanette took his face in her hands and looked deep into his eyes. “We already belong to each other. I am sure.”

He thrust into her, stopping at her quick gasp, holding himself still when all he wanted was to bury himself in the hot wetness of her. After a short moment, she kissed him.

“That is not all there is to it?” she said, a teasing twinkle in her eye that he had not seen before.

“Nay, not nearly.” And then he pressed into her, slowly, letting her body become accustomed to him until he could go no deeper, and then she wriggled against him, pressing herself harder to him and he could control himself no longer.

Jeanette’s body tightened as he surged into her and retreated, again and again, bringing her closer and closer to that incredible shattering sensation she’d experienced only with this man, bringing her closer, and closer, until he went rigid against her, his back arched, pressing so hard into her she leapt over the precipice, flying with him to heights she had never imagined, both of them shattering, then joining, then shattering again and again and again.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

J
EANETTE LAY BESIDE
Malcolm on the soft moss, slowly co
ming back to herself as if she had left her body in that moment of union with him and now floated down from dizzying heights. She slowly settled back into herself, the same, but fundamentally different. Gradually, her senses began to gather information from outside her—the trickling and splashing of the water, the lovely green aroma of the moss crushed beneath her, the warm pressure where Malcolm’s arm was pressed against hers, their hands clasped as if neither of them could bear to be completely apart from the other after such a wondrous act of joining together.

Cool air settled on her bare skin so she rolled on her side. Malcolm hooked his arm around her and pulled her close against him.

“I did not hurt you badly, did I?” he asked, his voice whisper-
soft.

“Nay, hardly at all, and after . . .”—she put her hand on his chest and propped her chin upon it—“. . . after, I felt nothing but joy.”

“I think you felt a wee bit more than just joy, angel.” The teasing glint was back in his eyes and she could not help but laugh.

“Aye, a wee bit more than joy.” She stretched up to kiss him when something caught her eye. She stopped and sat up.

“What is it?”

“I am not sure, but I think there is something—” She stood to get a better look and her eyes alit on a large flat stone that sat in the middle of the pool, just below the surface of the water, which was why she had not noticed it before. It was far enough away that she could not step from the shore to the stone.

“Jeanette?” Malcolm rose to stand beside her, looking in the same direction, but he did not seem to see what she did.

She pointed, suddenly sure that was what she was supposed to find.

“Stay here,” she said to him as she waded in.

The water was instantly numbing. It was deeper than she had thought, and the stone seemed farther from the shore than she had thought as well. She was quickly up to her waist in the water, but then she scrambled up onto the large stone. Water streamed from her body, disturbing the surface of the stone, which was barely covered by the pool, making it impossible to see the stone itself even while she stood upon it. But she could feel something unusual beneath her feet. She began to trace the grooves she could feel, and quickly determined that they were not natural, but were incised, as were the animal carvings on the grotto walls. She knelt and patiently let the water still as much as it would. Suddenly the carving was revealed: the same three swirling circles within a circle symbol that was incised on the Highland Targe.

She must have gasped or said something, for Malcolm was splashing into the water now.

“Nay, Malcolm! Go back. There is nothing wrong, I was only surprised.”

The splashing stopped, but she didn’t hear him returning to dry land, either. She looked behind her and found him up to his knees, his expression tense, concerned.

“I am fine,” she said. “Go back before your feet turn to icy blocks.”

“I shall wait here, lest you need me.”

She nodded, realizing just how good a man he was, realizing again that she loved him and she was certain he loved her, too. She would tell him, today, here, in this beautiful place they had discovered together, what her feelings were, but not yet. First she must figure out why this symbol was—

And then she saw a second symbol, just at the edge of the stone, directly in front of her—the symbol her mum had called a mirror, one of the three symbols painted on the inside of the ermine sack that protected the Targe. She ran her finger over it, as she had done with the deer carving, and as she had done with the Targe stone the first time her mother had shown it to her.

She sat back on her heels, closed her eyes, and repeated the prayer of protection and blessing that she had been trying to teach Rowan. Even though Jeanette was not the Guardian, did not have the Targe stone, nor was she trying to use any gift, still she felt it was necessary. Her hands moved through the air in tandem with the words she chanted and a sudden whooshing feeling swept through her as if it rose from the stone itself. Tingling ran under her skin, surging upward through her until she felt the need to raise her arms over her head, hands open to the sky to release it. With that release, a torrent pulsed through her, faster and faster and faster, wrapping her tightly in a maelstrom of images and sensations that enveloped her so completely, she struggled to breathe, struggled to stop them, struggled to hold on to her sanity.

M
ALCOLM COULD NOT
move as he watched Jeanette in all her naked glory as she sat upon the stone, her long pale back to him, saying something to herself as she moved her hands gracefully through the air. It looked to him as if she swirled them in circles, over and over, occasionally throwing them out as if tracing a spike—or the bent antler of their stag guide. This glorious, passionate, smart woman had given herself to him and it had been . . . He did not have words to describe what feelings had rushed through him as they’d coupled.

“Jeanette?” When she did not respond, a spark of worry lit within him. “Angel?” he called again, but she did not seem to hear, and then she rose up onto her knees, her arms stretched over her head. A breeze began to circle in the grotto, lifting Jeanette’s pale hair that had come free from its braid sometime while they made love, making it dance about her more and more wildly until, just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. Jeanette collapsed back onto her heels, her arms falling limply to her sides. And then she tipped sideways, and fell into the water.

For the longest moment he thought she had done it on purpose, but when she did not stand up he raced toward her, fighting his way through the deeper water, cursing his numb feet, calling her name, louder and louder. When he got to her, he pulled her into his arms, shoved her heavy, wet hair out of her face, and hurried back to the shore. Once there, he laid her on the moss, and checked to make sure she was breathing.

Thank God, she was.

He chafed her freezing hands in his, talking to her all the time, trying to rouse her, warm her. He grabbed her arisaid and his plaid from where they had been abandoned such a short time ago, then pulled her into his lap, pressing her shivering form against his skin, cradling her in his injured arm as he struggled to draw her arisaid around her and his plaid about them both. He tucked her head against him, pressing his cheek to her crown as he tried to rub some warmth into her skin with his good hand and whispered fervent prayers that she would recover quickly from whatever had happened to her.

Slowly, her skin grew less icy against his, but still she did not rouse. Malcolm didn’t know when, but the sun had been covered over by thick clouds, leaving the two of them wrapped in the dim coolness of the grotto. He looked toward the narrow fissure and knew he could not carry her out of here, for he had barely fit through himself. If she did not wake soon, they would have to stay the night, and for that they needed shelter, lest it rain, and a fire. But he would not leave her, even for those necessities, until he was sure she was warm.

After what felt like hours, Jeanette finally stopped shivering, though her skin was still icy to the touch. With the clouds thickening and the light dimming, he could wait no longer. He laid her on the soft moss carpet with her arisaid beneath her and his larger plaid carefully wrapped about her, as far away from the water’s edge as he could, next to the wall that sloped gently up and inward, giving them at least a little shelter if it rained. She sighed and turned on her side, tucking a hand under her cheek as if she but slept. The vise that had been tightening about his chest loosened slightly as he laid a kiss upon her brow.

“I shall return as soon as I can, angel,” he whispered to her, though he doubted she heard him. Quickly, he donned his tunic, securing it with his belt, and slid his dirk into its sheath.

He did not have to go far for ample wood but with the narrow fissure, it took him far too many trips to get enough fuel inside to start a fire. But once it was burning well, he returned to the forest for more deadwood just in case they had to stay the night there, piling it up outside the grotto, where at least it would be easy enough to fetch if they needed more in the night. His stomach grumbled as he laid more wood upon the fire, but he saved the bannocks they had brought with them for Jeanette. It would not be the first time he had spent a day with an empty stomach, though the first he had done so with a heart so heavy.

When he was satisfied the fire would burn for a while, he dropped his belt and dirk nearby, and lay down between Jeanette and the stone wall, snuggling close enough to cradle her back against his chest. Her skin was still cool to the touch, but not icy, as it had been earlier. He prayed his heat, added to that of the fire, would be enough to warm her, enough to hold off a fever. There was little else he could do for her until she awoke. And if she did not awaken soon? He would have to leave her here to get help from someone more able-bodied than himself. He would have to get someone else to rescue his angel when he should be the one to keep her safe. Frustration had him cursing the hand that would not do as he commanded, stopping just short of bashing the offending thing against the stone wall.

He struggled to calm himself but his thoughts kept catching at him, pulling him this way and that. Was this some punishment for their having lain with each other without marriage first? Nay, ’twas not the first time he had done such a thing, though his feelings for this lass— He closed his eyes as he realized that his life would be forever dark if she did not wake up, if she never looked at him again with those summer-sky eyes, if he could not hold her in his arms, if he could not rouse her passion. If he could not simply talk to her, share his meals with her . . . make a family with her.

She belonged to him. She had said it herself, and he belonged to her.

He took a long, shuddering breath as he realized his future had shifted the moment he’d seen her at the healing wellspring. He knew that keeping Jeanette MacAlpin in his life was the thing he wanted most, and once his hand was fully healed, once he was a whole man once more, he would make her his wife. He also knew he could wait no longer to tell her his feelings or to get her promise that she would wed him.

“Jeanette, love? Angel? Please wake up.” He rubbed her back between them, hoping just a little more warmth would rouse her. “I have something important to tell you. Do you hear me?”

She slept on, showing no sign of waking, so Malcolm pulled her as close as he could and began to pray.

J
EANETTE
’
S EYES POPPED
open and for long moments she could
not remember where she was, nor how she had come to be here.

Nor why her head felt as if someone had taken a hammer to it.

And then it all came rushing back to her—the deer, the grotto, making love with Malcolm.

It was then she realized that she sat in his lap, cradled in his arms. She looked up and found herself face-to-face with the man, his face lined with worry.

“You’re awake.” His voice was soft, as if he did not wish to startle her. “Are you well?”

She took a long moment, searching inside her for the answer.

“Well enough. I feel a bit like I’ve been . . .” She couldn’t decide how to describe the achy, almost bruised feeling that ran beneath her skin and deep in the middle of her body. “What happened?”

“You were on the rock, then you fell in the water. ’Tis all I know.”

“The rock?”

He pointed toward the pool and she remembered walking into it, its icy water numbing her limbs, climbing up onto the stone—then nothing.

“How long?”

“How long have you been sleeping? Half the day but ’twill not be dark for a few hours yet.”

“Peigi and the others must be worried for us.” She started to rise, but he held her in place, pulling her into a fierce embrace.

“I thought I had lost you when I had only just found you.” His voice trembled with his emotions. “Another little while will not make much difference in how much the others worry. You need to eat, and I would make sure you are well enough to travel before we leave this cursed place.”