Kindle Notes & Highlights
“Aye, I knew him. He was a troubled lad – always fightin’ and arguin’ with his faither. His mother was a beautiful creature, but she died when Killian was fifteen years old. Then her ladyship arrived, and Killian and his faither grew ever more distant. When the bairns were born, I think he felt nay choice but to leave. I daenae know the reasons, but it willnae be easy for him to return. I’ve heard many rumors about him over the years – a violent man, he is now,” Willow said, shaking her head.
Megan felt even more nervous now, and with her heart beating fast, she stepped over the threshold. The apartment was comfortably furnished. A large room, with chairs, a hearth in which a roaring fire was burning, and doors leading off to bedrooms on the far side. A large rug, made of animal hide, lay on the flagstone floor, and a table was strewn with the remnants of a meal, with empty platters and goblets. Lady Penny Bain, the mistress of the clan, was sitting in one of the chairs, and she looked up as Megan entered the room, rising to her feet and beckoning her forward.
were bare. He wore only a tunic, having removed the traveling cloak from his shoulders. Megan’s heart skipped a beat. He was the handsomest man she had ever seen. Quite different from the other clansman, with a swaggering confidence, and the look of one unafraid of anything or anyone. She could not help but find him attractive, even as she knew such thoughts to be an impossibility. But it was the scars Megan’s eyes were drawn to. Every bare patch of skin was covered in battle scars as though Killian’s whole life had been one long fight, the evidence of which was plain to see.
He sighed, pulling off his nightclothes and splashing himself with the warm water from the tub. There was a bar of soap and a bottle of lavender water, and Killian was soon washed, standing in his breeches at the window and looking out across the glen. It was set to be a fine day, the sun already high above the mountain tops, casting its rays on the shimmering loch. The bells of the abbey were tolling, and Killian imagined the monks, in their black habits, filing into the church to pray.
Tis’ the only place I ever found peace, he thought as he pulled on his tunic.
She was a shy creature, but Killian was curious about her. She was different from the other clanswomen, perhaps because she was not of the clan, but came from far away in the north. He wanted to know more about her, not only because she was attractive, but because he was interested in her past and the stories she might have to tell.
She had not thought her answer through – she had not thought any of it through. The mistress and the elders of the clan wanted her to get close to Killian and report back on anything they might use against him. But so far, Megan had seen only a man determined to be a good laird and master over his domain. A man of faith, who wanted to do what was right. It was a stark contrast to the man she had seen in the great hall the night before, gripped by a madness and anger, such that he would hold his sword to the throat of a mere child like Freddy.
For all his gruffness, his quick temper, and his contempt for the family he had remaining, Killian was determined to be a good laird. His father had not been a good role model – he treated the tenants on the farms with contempt, he did little to turn a profit from trade, and had been lax in maintaining security along his borders. Killian had criticized him in the past, but his father had simply dismissed him, telling Killian he had no right to interfere, for at that time, he had only been a child, like Freddy. But now, his father was gone, and Killian was the laird. He wanted to prove himself
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Killian knew his reputation, which he had found to suit him, even as it was not entirely the truth. His name was feared, and with some justification, for he had proved himself a fearsome warrior. But violence was not his creed, and whilst he would lift the sword for the cause of right, he had never done so against the innocent.
As he stepped back, Megan’s eyes grew wide with astonishment, and now he opened the door to usher her out. Killian had not forgotten his attraction to Megan. If anything, it had become stronger, and he knew the memory of that moment would linger. He had desired her, but more so, he had wanted her to feel the same for him, and now it seemed she did. He felt relief at not being rejected and flattered she should have reciprocated. He admired her for being brave enough to take on the task neither his stepmother, nor any of the other cowards,
was willing to do, even as she had failed to achieve what was demanded of her.
“And what comes next?” Aidan asked, reaching for the bottle of whisky they were sharing. “I win the hearts of the clan,” Killian replied, raising his glass to the future.
He pushed his chair back, sitting in the flickering light of the fire. Dusk was falling, and long shadows crossed the room from the window, through which Megan could see the moon rising in the dark blue sky above the loch. She took up the bottle of ointment, kneeling at the laird’s side to apply it. He pulled up the skirt of his kilt, exposing his upper leg, and now Megan rubbed in the ointment, massaging it across his knee, to her surprise, he began to play with her hair.
“Everythin’ feels better with ye, lass. I cannae imagine being without ye. Nae now,” he replied.
The sensation lessened, and Megan caught her breath, lying back on the rug, as now he did the same again with his tongue. An intensity now overcame her, but she did as he told her, enjoying the sensation, as a warmth now grew in her loins, flooding her with an ecstasy she could never possibly have imagined. Megan had never known such pleasure, nor had she ever heard it spoken of. She was so caught up in the moment, she hardly noticed his own shudder, as now he gave way to his own enjoyment, his hand cupped around his length. With a sigh, he lay next to her, running his hand over her breasts
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She had never known such intensity, a shudder running through her, pain, and pleasure as one. His lips were on her neck, his hands pulling her tighter into his embrace. Again, she gasped, a sudden heat filling her loins as Killian’s movement became rhythmic, his breathing growing heavier. Their lips met in a kiss, a total union of hearts, and with a shuddering cry, Killian let forth as Megan was overwhelmed by the ecstasy of her pleasure. For a moment, it was all she could do to grasp him, their bodies still entwined, their lips pressed together.
