The Highlander's Christmas Quest Read online

  Kirsty swallowed to shift the overwhelming emotion constricting her throat, a mixture of pride and anticipation, and most of all love so piercing, it made her giddy. "Dougal, you’re magnificent."

  "Go on with ye, lassie," he said gruffly, and his cheeks turned pink.

  "I’ve made ye blush again," she said in delight.

  "Aye, ye have."

  She pushed herself up against the plain wooden bedhead as her eyes devoured him. What a lucky, lucky girl she was. "You’re magnificent, but you’re too far away."

  She watched his blue eyes darken to indigo and that impressive jaw firm with determination. "Aye, that I am."

  He covered the space between the floor and the bed in a bound and swept her up into his arms.

  Chapter 12

  Dougal tumbled Kirsty beneath him and kissed her in an ecstasy of hunger. She kissed him back as if she starved for him. How he loved her. He never thought he could love anyone as much as he loved the woman in his arms. He touched that glorious body everywhere, stroking, exploring, exciting her until she shook and panted and called out his name.

  Soon he poised between her thighs. He stared down into her glowing face and bent to kiss her again with the promise of pleasure to come. "I love ye, Kirsty," he whispered.

  He noticed how her expression changed every time he spoke those simple words. When he’d first told her, she’d looked gratified, but surprised and a wee bit disbelieving. With every repetition, he saw her confidence in him and the strength of his love grow. Now her eyes lit with such joy and trust that he felt like a king.

  "I love ye, too, Dougal."

  "Are ye ready, mo chridhe?"

  She took his face between her hands and brought him down for another kiss. "I die with readiness." Her husky voice vibrated with longing.

  "Lift your knees." He stroked the slick heat of her cleft.

  She gave a ravishing shiver. "Do that again."

  "That?"

  "No…" He touched her differently, making her shudder again. "Right…there. Touch me there."

  He caressed the small pearl of flesh, until she was writhing under his hand. "Dinnae make me wait any longer, please, please..."

  Her choked cry was all the encouragement Dougal needed. He surged forward into her. He felt a wondrous tightness, as she cried out and scored his back with her fingernails.

  The sudden sharp sting made him pause. "Kirsty, are ye all right? If I’ve hurt you, I’ll never forgive myself."

  It was difficult holding still when every instinct demanded that he press on to claim her as his forever. But nowhere near as difficult as staring down into her lovely face and seeing pain where he wanted to see rapturous surrender.

  "Just…just give me a moment."

  Her broken request made him feel like a barbarian. She opened her eyes and to his dismay, they glittered with tears.

  "Och, I’ve made ye cry. Should I stop?"

  She gave a thick laugh. "Dinnae ye dare."

  He remained still. The snug clench of her muscles around his cock was torment and delight. "Are ye sure?"

  Another gallant smile. But then even on that black day when he’d decided he never wanted to see her again, he’d always admired her spirit.

  "Of course I’m sure, ye great galoot."

  To his surprise, the childish insult made him smile. "That’s no’ a nice thing to call the man ye love."

  The hands that gripped his shoulders flattened and started to stroke him. "No, but it’s what he deserves when he’s acting like a great galoot."

  His smile faded. "I hurt ye."

  "It doesnae hurt anymore."

  Dougal shot her a skeptical glance. "And ye swore you’d never lie to me again. Shame on you."

  To his relief, that made her laugh and this time her amusement sounded a little more natural. Even better, some of the tension seeped from her body. Without meaning to, he slipped a little deeper inside her.

  Her lustrous eyes widened. "My heavens, do that again."

  "As my lady wishes." Carefully he pushed forward, conscious of each changing sensation. Her tight grip on him, the ragged gasps of her breath, the fervent heat of her caresses across his back and arms.

  When he was seated fully within her, her body welcomed him. This time, her sigh conveyed only enjoyment. He was so close to Kirsty, he felt they truly became one.

  "Dougal, that’s grand."

  He lifted himself higher on his elbows so he could see her. "It is."

  She bowed up to kiss him on the lips. "Dinnae stop."

  "I dinnae want to hurt ye again."

  "I think we’ve gone beyond that." She combed his untidy tumble of hair back from his face. "It’s time for us to discover each other."

  "Och, Kirsty…" Poignant emotion weighted his voice, although when he started to move, passion’s demands soon became paramount.

  ***

  Kirsty braced for renewed pain, but there was just a smooth glide of pure pleasure. She released the breath she held and shifted beneath Dougal so next time he thrust, she lay at a new angle. A new angle meant new sensations, she discovered with startled wonder.

  With a sigh, she gave herself up to the man she loved. Soon a wild spiraling need stirred and rose higher inside her, akin to those astonishing sensations she’d felt when he’d so wantonly stroked her between the legs.

  This was like that, but even better. She curled her hands around his shoulders, feeling the powerful flex and release of muscle and sinew as he moved. The scent of arousal weighted the air. Dougal always smelled delicious, but this was a heavier, earthier scent than she was accustomed to.

  Under her caressing hands, his skin was hot and smooth. His breath escaped in broken gusts. And still he moved inside her, inexorable as the tide. With his every thrust, that unfamiliar spiraling response coiled tighter.

  Instinct made her tilt to meet him. Wanting more, but not sure what more meant. He gave a grunt of appreciation.

  "Dougal, keep going," she forced out of a tight throat.

  He didn’t answer in words, but shaking hands caught her hips and lifted her toward him. That pressure inside her reached a pitch approaching torture before he drove into her hard and deep. An incandescent explosion rushed through her body, and she burst through into a universe of blinding pleasure.

  Kirsty cried out his name in wonder and dug her fingernails deep into his back as she rode the shuddering rivers of fire. Through her climax, she felt him move faster and wilder. While she continued to quake with the magnificent conflagration, she heard him groan. His body jerked against hers, and liquid heat flooded her.

  For a long time, he shuddered in release, before he slumped down, gasping. His head rested on her shoulder, and she felt him place a gentle kiss on her bare skin. It felt like a declaration of love.

  Dougal crushed her deep into the mattress, but she didn’t mind. Right now, all she wanted was to stay close to him. Exhausted, still lost in the mists of unearthly sensation, she ran her fingers through his mane of silky red hair.

  Too soon, he shifted and raised his head to stare at her. He looked tired and happy and younger than she’d ever seen him. "You’re superb, Kirsty Macbain."

  She smiled and gave him a weary kiss. "Surely it’s Kirsty Drummond now."

  "Aye, it is Kirsty Drummond at that. I’ll proclaim that to the world when ye wed me." He bent to kiss her, a brief connection that somehow promised a lifetime of love waiting for them. As if he shared her thought, he gave her that special smile she already thought of as hers alone and said, "I love ye, Kirsty."

  ***

  Dougal watched Kirsty accept the declaration as her right. About time. "And I love ye, Dougal."

  She placed her hand on his bare shoulder and regarded him with such love that his heart clenched into a throbbing fist. He’d thought he understood love when he pumped his seed into her with such rapturous abandon. But now as he saw her soul shining forth from her soft silver eyes, he realized that love took many forms, and only time
would reveal them all. He and this marvelous woman had a lifetime of exploration ahead.

  Her kiss-reddened lips quirked with the familiar, beloved humor. She shifted under him, and he couldn’t help thinking of other more carnal demands likely to occupy him before too long.

  "If ye wriggle like that, we willnae be doing much talking," he groaned, edging his hips forward.

  This time her eyes rounded with wonder. "Can we?"

  "Apparently we can." He leaned down and kissed her. He tasted weariness on her lips but also the beginnings of interest.

  Her short laugh vibrated through him in a most intriguing way. He rolled onto his side, relishing the pleasurable slide as their bodies separated.

  She frowned. "I really need to find a name for what ye and I just did. When we put the ram to the ewes, it’s tupping. But that seems a wee bit…"

  "Farmyard?"

  A huff of amusement escaped her. "Well, it conveys the basics, I suppose."

  He brushed stray strands of black hair back from her forehead. "I have a feeling we went way beyond the basics, my darling."

  When she pushed herself up on the pillows, he glimpsed the jut of one beautiful white breast before she drew the covers up. The room was starting to get cold. He should get up and stoke the fire, but right now he couldn’t bring himself to leave this cozy bed and the enchanting woman who shared it.

  "I wouldnae know. I’ve never done this before."

  He shifted higher so he could see her face. He’d never tire of looking at her. "Neither have I."

  A reverberant silence crashed down. The only sound in the cottage was the crackle of the peat fire in the hearth.

  Betraying color heated Dougal’s cheeks as Kirsty subjected him to an incredulous stare. "But…but ye knew what to do."

  He ran an unsteady hand through his hair. "Pure instinct."

  "Instinct." She sounded like she didn’t trust what she heard.

  "And desire."

  Her lips curved in an uncertain smile. "But I assumed you’d had lovers. After all, you’re so much older than I am."

  Despite himself, that made him laugh. "No’ that much older. I’m only twenty-four. How old are ye?"

  "Nineteen."

  "It seems daft that we’re only discovering these details now."

  She reached out to take his hand. "We already know the important things."

  "Aye," he said in a voice rough with emotion. "Or at least we’re finding them out."

  "How did ye know how to…" This time, she was the one blushing. "I’ve listened to the women talking. I’ve heard enough to know that I found a pleasure with ye that no’ every woman does when she lies with a man."

  That was a great relief. He’d been sure – well, almost – that she’d enjoyed what they’d just done as much as he had. It seemed he was right. God bless instinct. Instinct could take a man a long way, it seemed. And not just instinct. Women weren’t the only gossips when it came to bed sport. He’d heard plenty of talk over the years. At least some of it had helped him please his beloved.

  "Och, Kirsty, you’re embarrassing me."

  She carried his hand up to her lips and kissed his knuckles. The tender contact shuddered through him like thunder. "No, tell me."

  "I dinnae ken. Ye have a very expressive face, and I paid attention to what pleased you. Then I just did more of that." He slid his arm around her so she leaned on him instead of the heaped pillows. "In fact, I cannae believe I didnae guess after that first night that ye were doing your best to scuttle my boat. You’re no’ a very adept liar, my love."

  "I dinnae do it very often," she said uncomfortably, avoiding his eyes, although he was pleased to note that she didn’t try to move out of his embrace. "I dinnae think I ever told a lie, until I was so frantic to keep ye on my island. Or at least no’ about anything important. When I was a bairn, I lied about climbing a dangerous tree and about stealing some shortbread. It did me nae good. Nobody ever believed me."

  Dougal gave a grunt of amusement. "I’m no’ surprised."

  She looked directly at him at last, although to his regret, she returned to the subject of his lack of experience as a lover. "But how on earth have ye escaped a visit to some lassie’s bed? The first time I saw ye, I wanted you. Do ye no’ ken how beautiful you are, Dougal? You’re like a hero out of a story."

  After what he’d just done, he should have lost the ability to blush, but Kirsty’s extravagant praise had his face burning like the sun again. "Away with ye, lassie. Men cannae be beautiful."

  "Ye are, Dougal Drummond." Her gaze sharpened. "Girls must have pursued ye. For pity’s sake, I pursued ye."

  His arm tightened around her shoulders. "And I’m gey happy ye caught me – or I caught you. I dinnae think it matters either way."

  He saw the last of her doubts fade away. "I’m glad ye feel like that."

  "So am I." Then because he felt her curiosity pressing at him, he struggled to explain. "I’m the laird’s son and the heir to all the Drummond lands. I have responsibilities. I cannae run around the glens at Bruard, tumbling lassies willy-nilly. It would upset my family, no’ to mention the crofters. It’s the same at Achnasheen, where I’m my cousins’ guest. And that’s not all, by God. If I show too much interest in any local girl, she gets excited about the idea of becoming the lady of Bruard. I’m a red-blooded laddie. I willnae say I never had an itch for a lass, but I didnae like any of them enough to make one my wife. You’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted to marry, Kirsty."

  A rueful smile turned her lips down. "Me, and Fair Ellen."

  "Och," he said in a dismissive tone. "Who needs Fair Ellen when I’ve got Bonny Kirsty?"

  Amusement sparked in her eyes. "Nonetheless I’ve spent most of the week wanting to tear every hair from her lovely head – if she exists for me to torture, that is."

  He settled his beloved more comfortably against him and relaxed back against the bedhead. There was something deeply satisfying about lying in bed in a warm house, while it was so cold outside. Even more satisfying when he had the woman he loved curled up beside him.

  "If she exists, she’s going to have to wait for some other gallant blockhead to rescue her. My rescuing days are done."

  She didn’t smile, although he’d hoped she would. "Will ye mind giving up your dreams of performing great deeds?"

  Dougal caught her chin in his hand and tilted her face up for a tender kiss. He met that glowing silver gaze and spoke from the depths of his steadfast heart. "Winning ye is a great deed. I have a feeling that when I settled my sights on that mythical lady on Innish…"

  "Or Canna or Pabbay."

  "Or Hyskeir or Inch Kenneth – or Greenland, for that matter." He couldn’t resist stealing another quick kiss. "Anyway, I think I set out on my quest because it was time for me to break free of home and its restrictions. I love Bruard, and I’ll be proud to lead my clan when the time comes, although I hope that’s no’ for many years yet. I love my parents and my tribe of brothers and sisters. But there’s a devil of a load of pressure on a laddie to toe the line and act the gentleman and provide a good example."

  She rubbed her cheek against his chest. "But ye are a good example."

  "Mo chridhe, dinnae spoil it. Here I am, thinking what a wild and reckless rogue I’ve become, stealing my bride away and seducing her before we’ve said our vows to the minister. Aye, I’m a scoundrel of the first rank, I am."

  She giggled, and the silly feminine sound was so sweet coming from forthright, capable Kirsty Macbain that Dougal drew her up for a more thorough kiss. He had to get her back to her father well before tonight. He’d already risked scandal enough. It seemed he wasn’t quite the devil-may-care roisterer he claimed to be.

  But it was early. They had time to explore more of the pleasure they’d started to discover. Although it was sweet to lie in his sweetheart’s arms and share confidences, too. He and Kirsty still had so much to learn about each other. What a life lay ahead of them. He could hardly wait.

&
nbsp; "Ye great galoot, Dougal," she said, and he couldn’t object to the description when the words resonated with such love. "I’m so glad you decided ye loved me."

  "When I met ye, I knew something extraordinary had happened. It took me too long to identify what it was, though. I certainly wanted ye at first sight."

  She looked surprised. "Ye did?"

  He gave a low growl of nostalgic appreciation. "Ye look better in a pair of breeches than I ever did."

  Mocking humor quirked her lips. "I wouldnae say that." She paused, and he caught a flash of wicked teasing in her eyes. "Although ye look even better out of them."

  His face heated, but that didn’t stop him kissing the cheeky lassie until she was breathless. Dougal wasn’t in much better state, so his voice was unsteady when he resumed his explanation. He became less interested in conversation by the second. "The whole time I was on Askaval, I couldnae stop thinking about ye. You’re the most interesting lassie I ever met. But I’d promised to rescue Fair Ellen. It seemed a sin to be so preoccupied with another girl."

  "Does it still seem like a sin?"

  "Och, no. The sin would be turning my back on the love of a lifetime in pursuit of a lady who is only a wisp of Highland mist. I’ve found everything I need here with ye, Kirsty." He shifted so he could look into her lovely face. He didn’t want to risk any misunderstandings with what he was about to say. "I love ye, and I want nothing more than to make ye my bride. I want ye to be the mother of my bairns. I want us to grow old together as we watch both Bruard and Askaval thrive. I want to dedicate my life to ye, mo chridhe. How does that sound?"

  As he’d spoken, tears rose to sparkle in her eyes. "Dougal…"

  He frowned, puzzled. "Now what the devil are ye crying for, you daft lassie?"

  A broken laugh escaped her, even as a tear trickled down her rosy cheek. "Because I’m so happy, when on Christmas Eve, I thought I’d never be happy again. Because I’m here with ye. Because what ye just said was so beautiful, and I’ll cherish your words as long as I live."