Ravished By The Iron Highlander (Steamy Scottish Historical Romance) Read online

  The messenger had barely ducked before a vase flew over his head and an ear-splitting crash of it smashing into a stone wall did not calm Ralf Dellendine down. He slammed his hand down on the table that stood between him and wrapped his hands around the man’s neck.

  “What the bloody hell are you telling me?” he roared. “How is it that you cannot find an immature, inexperienced woman? My bloody sister is not that smart to evade all of you! Do you not have any sense, fool?”

  “Sir, I —”

  Ralf glared at him. “Shut your damn mouth. I don’t want to hear another word from you if it is not, ‘I have found her’. The Baron has waited longer than he has had to for me to deliver my delinquent sister over to him. Now, his wrath will be on my head because of your incompetence.”

  The poor man was gripping his cap so tightly his fingers were white. “Sir, I assure you—”

  “No,” Ralf sneered as he went around the table. “What I can assure you is that if you do not find her soon, I’ll offer you and your incompetent men to the Baron for his men to deal with. Get out of my sight, you sniveling mongrel, and go find Isabella! Now!”

  The man scurried away like a mouse running from a lunging cat and Ralf began to pace. When his men had gone to take Isabella back, they had come up empty-handed. He had ridden out at breakneck speed to find his aunt and there, Matilda had told him that she had taken a tea for her knees that night, which had made her sleep longer than usual. When she had woken, she had found Isabella gone. No trace of her had been found in the days later.

  Now, he had to find some other excuse to tell the Baron who was waiting, in patience, for his bride to be sent to him. Ralf feared that Lord Lofter would lose the little patience he had and give up on Isabella which meant he had given up on him, Ralf. All the partnerships they had spoken about to be made after the Lord's marriage to his sister, if she was not found, would disappear like smoke.

  The Baron would marry someone else’s daughter and give them all the gold, fighting men, and acclaim he wanted for himself.

  “Goddam you, Isabella,” he raged. “This is all on your head. Why couldn’t you just listen for once?”

  Summoning a footman, he ordered his carriage to be made ready. He had to go over to the Baron, drop his pride, and beg for more time. When the man was gone, he grabbed his cloak and sword to the air, “I swear Isabella, when this is over, be glad if you see the light of day again.”

  16

  The lakes of Loch Lamond were absolutely stunning. The crystal blue of the water, hemmed in with verdant forests on either side, shimmered before her like the most precious jewel ever taken out of the bowels of the Earth. The water was so blue and the sunlight glinting off it had the waters glistening. Wild birds were at the edges, a soft unseen current had the loch moving in mesmerizing ebbs and flows. It was so large that she could not see the end.

  True to her wish to not be seen, Duncan had taken them off the beaten path that led to town and villages and traveled through the hills, valleys, meadows and glens. His arms around her waist had become so familiar that she felt bereft when he was not holding her. Something he must have sensed because he held her to his chest every night.

  “Are there are any sights like this in England, hm?” Duncan teased.

  She twisted to look at him and saw pure mischief dancing in his eyes. “I cannot say, as I’ve never truly gone anywhere but I would put my last coin on it that there aren’t any.”

  He softly kicked the horse into a walk and they went off. “Admit it,” he said smugly, “me country is a gem.”

  Now, she rolled her eyes, “You can turn the pride off now.”

  “I dinnae ken I can,” he added. “Pride for me country is a part of me bones, body, and soul.”

  Seeing the glistening water, she admitted, “It’s truly beautiful. I can see why you had put your life on the line for not only your family but this had to be a part of it.”

  “It was,” Duncan said. “But truly, I went for my family.”

  They settled against another waterway’s bank as it became dark. They were not near the river but the stream that flowed into it. Duncan had voiced his intention to fish and after they had settled, he had rolled up his pants, sharpened a stick and went fishing. It was a bit humbling to see a man physically work for his food.

  You would have to kill Ralf twice over and remake him to get him to even think of doing anything like this.

  The makeshift spear jammed into the water as quickly as a lightning strike and Duncan came up with two good-sized fish, speared cleanly through, flapping on his weapon.

  He waded in and dropped them on a pile of leaves far away from the bank only to wade back out, poised and ready to capture again. A memory that she vowed to share with him when he came out came to her mind and she hung onto it until he came back with two more. After slashing the stick into a plane, he began to scale them.

  When he removed their guts, she came and sat. “You know, seeing you do that reminded me of the time when a hunting party had come back home. I was seven and Ralf was twelve. They strung up the wild hares to kill them and drain their blood. When Ralf came in as they were gutting them, he went green and hurled everything inside him on the kitchen floor. He ran out white-faced and did not even come down for supper that night. To this day, he has never eaten hare-meat again.”

  Duncan set the four fishes to roast, “Really. When I was fourteen, I had killed me first deer and skinned it meself.”

  Her brows darted up and she gave him a challenging eye, “When I was fourteen, I had finally flung a dagger into the center of a target…blindfolded.”

  “When I was ten, I roped a wild cat,” he said, smirking.

  “When I was seven, I caught a pair of wild eagles,” she baited him.

  “And when I was five, I swam the width and breadth of the Loch Ness,” he grinned.

  Isabella pushed him, “Liar.”

  “Ye first,” he countered.

  Turning to the roasting fish she added, “When my Father died I had prayed for a man to come into my life to show me that good men still lived on the land…” she then eyed him. “You’ve proven that to me, thank you.”

  He added some more kindle and the fish to the fire and then braced his arm on his bent knee. “And ye’ve shown me the same. Isabella, I won’t swear to what I am nay sure about but ye’ve given me a cause to trust and even begin to love again.”

  Has he…in a roundabout way, told me he loved me?

  She reached over and took his hand but did not say a word. Just holding his hand was enough. The darkness was growing thicker and Duncan pulled away to test the fish. He deemed them cooked and then plucked them out to rest them away from the fire. “It's still hot, give it a moment.”

  Reaching for the last chunks of bread they had, Isabella handed one over to him. He took a fish and handed it over to her. They ate in silence, and to her surprise, she had eaten both fishes and was full. Duncan made up the bed and but she did not move to it yet.

  “Lass?” he asked. “Arenea ye tired?”

  “Somewhat,” she replied. “I’ve never been connected to nature and being here…seeing all this, feeling this…I’m just beginning to understand why you say this land is in your soul.”

  He sat beside her, “It is.”

  The moon was rising, a luminous half-disk in the sky, and thin clouds were drifting across it, leaving the edges silver in the wake. Night birds were passing overhead and the sound of the river near them was a constant sweet susurration behind them.

  She then let out a long breath and went to her feet. He took her and they went to the makeshift bed, and lay down. Laying on his right side, she rested her head on his chest and slid her hand under his shirt to rest directly over his heart.

  He rested his hand above the shirt and over hers. His thumb was massaging the back of her hand. His skin smelled lightly of soap but more of river water. His chest was rising slowly but then hitched, “Isabella—”

  “Ye
s?” She asked with her eyes closed.

  He pulled her hand away and then she opened her eyes to have him resting her back on the blankets and then his lips were on her neck. The air zinged. He kissed up her cheek and her lips slipped open to accept him when he did meet her lips.

  A mere feathery touch had her gasping, and his tongue plunged in, tangling with hers. He held her head and kissed her hard. “Mine,” he declared against her mouth as he pulled away. “All mine.”

  His teeth nipped and tugged at her lower lip for her to open again and his tongue delved deeper, ravaging her mouth without mercy. The kiss was so powerful it felt like a battering ram to her senses. Her pulse raced, her blood was hot and simmering and her chest was so tight she could barely breathe.

  Arching under his touch she felt his hands roamed over her body, slipping under her knee and tugging it up over his hip. His hand curved over her bottom and pressed her tightly to his body. His hand slipped from her behind to cup and caress her breast. The moment he began stroking her nipple, all reason disappeared and actions took over.

  Her body reacted to him, and his leg was between hers, she felt the swelling of his manhood on her thigh. Her woman’s place was pulsing, flashing warm, and shockingly wet. Delirious with a need she had only felt the inkling of before, she rocked against the hard trunk of his thigh, gasping at the blissful friction.

  He groaned and swallowed down her moans, sliding his rough hand over her leg and up to caress the rounds of her bottom. “God’s wounds, Isabella,” he groaned. “Yer so beautiful, so responsive to me touch. Me blood is boiling for ye.”

  Trapped in a heady world of heat and pleasure she was teetering on the edge of giving in to the glorious sensations bombarding her whole being. She knew what transpired between a man and a woman— but only in theory. Duncan had lit a match of desire inside her for more times than she was ready to count. She longed to feel him, flesh against flesh, soul to soul, heat to heat and heart to heart…but not yet. Not like this.

  “Duncan,” she panted. “I’ve felt this…lust for too many times—it burns. I want to feel the pleasure I know is there but…not with me losing my innocence. Can it be done?”

  His voice was hot on her skin, “There are many ways, lass. Let me show ye the one I prefer the most.”

  Laying her on her back, he slipped between her legs and cocked her knees up. The tails of her dress fell on her belly exposing her core to the air but Duncan was over her before the chill set in.

  She moaned when he sucked the pebbled tip of her breast through the cloth and into his warm mouth before he kissed a path down the slope of her belly, his touch as fragile as butterfly wings.

  Lust pounded in her veins as he continued down the vee of her hips. Grasping both of her legs he kissed her quivering inner thighs and she nearly bit through her lip when she realized what he was after.

  He reached between her legs, and put his finger up her dew-soaked slit, causing her to arch up, gasping.

  “Yer wet,” he said as his lips lowered, “do ye taste sweet, Isabella?” he rasped. He spread her thighs wide and his mouth closed over her. She cried out uninhibited, grabbing at his hair as his mouth and tongue began a wicked dance over her intimacy.

  It was indecent, it was devilish…it was pure bliss. As he licked into her secrecy, flames went riotous in her belly. The rough glide of his tongue over her sensitive, wet flesh was threatening to make her mind go white.

  He pulled off to blow on her damp folds and she called out again, as shivers took her body over. Helpless to do anything but feel this pleasure, she gasped in a deep breath as he began licking her tenderness again, the bold swipes streaking fire down her legs. His lips closed over her bud and suckled like a babe and she nearly cried.

  “Duncan, please!” what she was begging for she did not know, but knew she had to get it or she would be mad. “Please!”

  His tongue slipped low, formed a spear and was pistoning in and out of her in a cruel mockery of consummation. He pulled away and his finger slipped inside her while his lips went to suck on her bud again. Higher, and higher the blissful feeling mounted and as she hovered on the very peak of ecstasy, he twisted his fingers inside her and the fire inside her body erupted out of control.

  She cried out his name as pure pleasure blazed through her, leaving her to float down in the sensation of pure uninhibited bliss. Before her quaking body calmed, his mouth was on hers and she kissed him back, feeling the soft ebbing of the golden high trickle away.

  Pulling away his hot gaze, he studied her face, and feeling what he was looking for, she gazed into his. “I think,” she swallowed, blinking the spots away from her eyes, “I think I glimpsed heaven.”

  A soft kiss was laid on her lips. “Yer a sensual, passionate woman, lass,” tenderly, he kissed down her ear. “And I might be the luckiest damned fellow on this earth.”

  His soft compliments made her heart begin to ache. She realized that she had found her pleasure but he had not. Summoning her courage, she asked, “Duncan…have you?”

  Here, her mind stuttered and she colored. She had no basis, no cache of words stuck in her mind to utter what she wanted to ask him. She did not even know the mildest term she could use to ask him about his needs.

  His soft chuckle downplayed her anxiety, “Are ye going to ask to help?”

  “If that is what’s needed,” Isabella said. She had felt a touch of heaven, was it not right for him to feel it too?

  She was then cradled in his arms, and his lips nipped at her ear. “Nay lass, I dinnae need yer help now…seeing ye in yer passion ignited mine.”

  Perhaps when she was not as tired or when she was able to summon more courage, would she ask him what he meant by that. Sadly, the fluctuation of tiredness, the lingering strains of pleasure all tugged her into sleep and she slipped under Morpheus’ call right there in his arms.

  * * *

  When she woke to the sound of gabbling birds and the smooth rush of the waterway, Isabella noticed something else—Duncan was gone. The memory of last night, sitting and gazing at the stars, feeling his touch, feeling his kiss, and then the unspeakable pleasure he had given her felt almost more a fantasy than a memory.

  Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes to remove the grit and stood. Where is he? Venturing out of their little cove, she went to the waterside and the first thing that met her eyes was Duncan’s borrowed linen clothes, washed out and resting on a rock.

  Her eyes lifted and there was Duncan, rising from the middle of the stream like the Poseidon himself. His dark hair was wet and plastered on his forehead and shoulder. Droplets of water caressed his body on the way down, rippling off his broad chest, the matted dark hair making a spear line down his middle and over his ridged abdomen. He lifted a hand to slick back the hair from his eyes and then saw her.

  She felt fixed to the patch of earth she was standing on. Their eyes met and then—then he began to walk out toward her. As more of his body was revealed so did her amazement grow. He came closer, and then with a step, all of him was bared to her.

  At the sight of his quiescent manhood, her eyes widened and her mouth went dry. Her pulse jumped into triple time and heat was coursing through her veins with abandon. Duncan was undeniably blessed with a more than generous endowment. She swallowed hard as, again, indecent thoughts were running through her mind.

  His brow quirked over his knowing smirk and she hastily turned her back to him.

  What is wrong with me? Good Lord? Instead of feasting my eyes on his nakedness, I should have covered them but no, I stood there gaping at him like a fish out of water. I was raised better than that!

  Hurrying to get her things in order, Isabella dutifully ignored the heat that rose up inside her as images of them in bed flickered through her mind.

  No place for those thoughts. None at all. Last night was…only a means to an end. Yes! That’s it! Only a means to an end!

  “Nay, lass,” Duncan said behind her, “it wasnae a means to an end.”


  She slapped her hands over her mouth and gaped. Had she said those words aloud? For mercies’ sake, they were supposed to be in her head where they belonged! Duncan calmly pried her hands away from her mouth and looked at her with a smile. Her eyes dipped and thank god, he was clothed from the waist down.

  He then caressed her face, “It wasnae a means to an end, lass, instead, it was the beginning. Kenning that I can pleasure ye means the world to me. ‘Tis as if God himself gave me the star that shines aside the moon every night. Dinnae ye doubt yerself or hide the passionate creature I ken ye are.”

  She leaned into his touch, “I still have a way to go though.”

  “And I’ll be happy to help ye get there,” Duncan dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Are ye hungry?

  Her eyes lifted to scan the trees around them. Most were bare and spindly and only a few had green fruits, that probably would be inedible. “I think we can hold out until the next village to eat.”