Desire in Tartan: 2 (Highland Vampires) (21 page)
“Sh-she does.” Pulling out of his grasp, Grizel jerked her head in Alice’s direction. “I doonae ken how. And shortly after, auld Mhairi decreed that I hadnae the talent to be a healer.”
His hands reached for her again as if controlled by some other being. He envisioned grasping her head and twisting…twisting…
With a wrench he controlled himself. “Go away. I’ll speak with milaird, but ye’re banished.” His voice rose to a bark as he turned. “Laird Edgar?”
“Aye?” Edgar left Isobel’s side to approach.
“Take this creature to your hold. If she stays at Kilburn Castle I cannae be responsible for my actions. And take her away now, if ye will, please.”
Looking puzzled, Edgar scrutinized Dugald’s face, then obeyed. With a plaidie hiding her head, Grizel slouched after her new laird while Dugald watched, heart overwhelmed by a mixture of fury and relief.
Fury because Grizel could have saved Elsbeth but instead had taken her life.
Relief because…he hadn’t killed Elsbeth.
Their babe hadn’t killed Elsbeth.
So Alice…Alice could survive. Alice would survive!
Or would she?
He hurried over to where his wife lay, legs spread wide, her body convulsing. Mairen had removed Alice’s outerwear and loosened her stays, so he could see how her big belly swelled her shift. The flesh rippled when a contraction hit.
She cried out and, kneeling close, he gripped her hands. “I’m here,
mó dochas.
I’m here.”
“Dugald,” she whimpered. Sweat stuck stray hairs to her forehead.
“Push!” Mairen commanded.
Opening her mouth in a scream, Alice obeyed. Her shriek tore through him like the stab of a
sgian dhu.
He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t! Not after everything that had happened. How could he lose his brave Alice? How could he lose the wonderful woman who had survived the Beans, faced and defeated the
baobhan-sith
?
How could he lose the one person who gave his life meaning?
If she died, how could he survive?
And why would he bother? If he brought death to those he most loved, his life would be worse than meaningless.
His heart in his throat, he watched as she writhed on the hard ground, struggling to give birth to their bairn. Still clutching her hands, he asked Mairen, “What can I do to help?”
“Nothing.” She placed her hand on Alice’s belly and pressed gently.
“Nothing?”
“Push,” Mairen told Alice, then said to him, “Nothing. Though ye can loosen the death-grip ye have on her hands.”
“Och, aye.” He obeyed but quickly found himself gripping his bent knees, unable to bear the suspense. Stomach churning, he thought he might be ill, and chided himself for his weakness. He’d fought and killed many men in battle, drunk their blood, worn their guts as a savage headdress, but he’d never lost his lunch.
Gulping, he decided that the moment of his bairn’s birth would not be that first time.
Another scream and, when he looked, a head split his Alice’s opening. “Be ready,” Mairen told him. She reached down and, with both hands, slipped her fingers around the head and gently eased it forth. Dugald cupped his hands just below.
Covered with white goo and a little blood, his son fell into his father’s broad palms. He squalled.
Relief poured over Dugald like rain after drought. “Safe and sound,” he crooned. He brought the infant up to his face and nuzzled his neck. “Och, my darling, I have waited for you for so long!”
Cuddling the baby against his chest, he risked taking one hand away from his precious burden to ease down Alice’s chemise, exposing her breast. She shifted, looked up at him and smiled.
Again relieved, for his Alice seemed to be healthy, he asked, “
Mo dòchas
? Would ye like to meet our son?”
Two months later, Dugald tenderly laid their son, Euan, into the tiny wooden cradle that customarily sat at the foot of their bed. He turned to his wife, who was sprawled against the pillows. She spread her arms wide in welcome.
He couldnae wait. After two long months waiting for her to heal, he couldnae wait to make love to his Alice. He bent to kiss her, give her a soft, sweet buss, but the caress quickly turned passionate, with Alice‘s lips clinging and her arms circling when he attempted to withdraw.
“Verra well, then,” he said, laughing softly. He kept a little distance between them, teasing her with his nearness, asking her to wait.
Instead, she grabbed his shirt front and hauled him in. Despite his intention to give to her rather than take, he enjoyed the press of her soft breasts against him. He couldnae have been luckier, he mused, for he‘d married a prim governess with a wanton‘s soul. Her smile was edged with the passion he so loved.
And the birth of their son along with Grizel’s revelations had rid him of the fear that had haunted him for so many months. His love wouldnae lead to the death of the woman he prized above his own life.
He hooked his hand into Alice’s robe and tugged it open, exposing her breasts. The soft orbs he adored were as beautiful as ever. He sucked in his breath. Their big nipples had turned dark, and their deep mauve color, almost brown, enticed him as much as they had when they‘d been the palest rose of a maiden‘s cheek. He bent to suck them when she spoke.
“That you find me attractive is a wonder.”
“
Mo dòchas
?” What the
diabhol
was she talking aboot? He raised his head.
“I‘ve aged. My breasts aren‘t what they were before I became pregnant. My belly sags. I’m even getting wrinkles! And you…” She glared at him. “You haven’t changed a shred.”
He stroked the few strands of silver at his temple, which had sprouted when Euan had been born. “I surely have, wife, but ye look at me with the eyes of love, just the way I see you.”
She huffed.
“’Tis true.” He fondled her nipple. “Your breasts are full of the milk that nourishes our son.” He ran light fingertips down her belly. “This is where our bairn used to live, and is holy to me.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. “Oh, Dugald!” She reached for him.
He stopped her. “Nay,
kylyrra
. This is for ye.”
He passed a hand over her naked body. Her flesh rippled, and he scented her desire. But he was in no hurry to satiate it. After giving birth to their son, she deserved to be loved long and sweetly. He opened her legs and she fell back against the pillows, her eyes closing as she abandoned herself and her cares to pleasure…just what he wanted.
He bent toward her cunny, wondering if she were yet sore. He gently lapped his Alice‘s moist heat and rubbed his tongue against her bump, back and forth, and listened to her delighted moans with a growing sense of happiness. Aye, he‘d read her mood aright.
When she spent her sweetness into his mouth, he wanted to shout with glee, but instead cuddled her to his chest, allowing joy to fill his soul.
His life, his wife and his child were everything he‘d ever wanted.
An award-winning, best-selling traditional romance novelist, Suz deMello uses a pseudonym to protect her privacy. But if you’re a romance fan, you’ve probably read her books or have heard of her. She’s known for layered, compelling novels charged with humor as well as emotion.
Of her journey to the steamier side of writing, Suz says, “I love writing traditional romances, but after several years in the same mode, I felt that I really needed to cut loose as a creative artist and write hot, sexy books that reflect the wilder side of being human.”
Suz’s books are fast-paced with seductive situations, complicated characters and a whole lot of kink!
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Ellora’s Cave Publishing
Desire in Tartan
ISBN 9781419944987
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Desire in Tartan Copyright © 2013 Suz deMello
Edited by Rebecca Hill
Cover design by Caitlin Fry
Cover photography by Margo black, Normal Cornes, Nemesis Inc/Shutterstock.com
Electronic book publication July 2013
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