Highlander's Faerie (Highlander Heat #5)

“I ache, John, in places I’ve never ached before.” She squeezed her eyes shut and when she opened them, she couldn’t halt her plea. “Kiss me again.”


He kissed her, a deep, devouring kiss that made her heartbeat flutter into a frenzy. “I give you my oath, Katherine. You will always have my protection, my absolute aid and undying loyalty. Dinnae you feel what’s between us?”

“I do, and I want to take more just for myself, but changing the path your future is set on isn’t right. Last night you told me of your desire to take a wife and to have children. I’ll never be that person.”

“You have too much love to give to withhold it.”

“A stolen moment or two is all I can permit.” She cupped his cheeks. “Although I have an admission if you wish to hear it.”

“Speak it. No secrets are permitted between us.”

“During the years of my mother’s illness, both my sister and I spent all our time with her and never bothered delving into a relationship. In the future, women ensure their own protection, and I took care of that in case I ever needed it in place. I can’t fall pregnant, or at least not for the next two months. The precautions I took are ninety-nine percent effective. I had an injection”—she tapped her arm—“right here.”

He frowned and smoothed his fingers over her arm. “I dinnae see how your arm can protect you against what goes on far below.”

“There are incredible medical advances in my time that provide the protection I’m talking about. Believe me, I’m protected.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“That an affair between us is possible, provided it’s a short one.”

“An affair isnae what I’m after.” He lifted himself up, gripped her hands and tugged her to her feet. With a scowl, he picked up his sword and belt. “I have duties to attend to.”

“You’re angry that I’ve asked for an affair?”

“You deserve more than just a toss of your skirts and a hard and fast tumble.” He strode to the door and eyed her. “I’ll send a maid with your bath and a tray then return for you at the midday meal. Be prepared for a swim.”

“I’ll be ready.”

He closed the door and her heart grew heavier as his footfalls trailed away. From the moment she’d fallen through the veil and into his arms, their connection had fused and only deepened in the weeks that had followed. Opening up to him last night about her nightmares had been inevitable, her trust in him absolute. She’d not even spoken of them to Marie, her own sister who she never kept a secret from.

At the hearth, she clasped the rod and prodded the embers. The ashes glowed red and she added shaved bark and wood chips as John usually did each morning to ensure the fire blazed as she bathed. The flames flickered and she laid a block of peat on top, brushed her hands and stood.

At a knock on the door, she crossed and bid two lads to enter. Barefoot and with sooty imprints on the knees of their loose-legged breeches, they heaved a tub before the fireplace then scurried out. A servant entered carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of oats and a trencher of meat. The maid set it on the side table then took the water basin John had used to shave with last night and tossed the soapy mess out the chamber window.

Another maid arrived, placed a drying cloth and bar of soap next to the water jug and set a clean basin down while another lass crossed to the navy curtained ambry with an armful of clothing. As she laid the clothing on the bed, a splash of teal peeked through from underneath a fur cloak.

“What do you wish to wear, my lady?” The maid hung the garments.

“The teal gown. Leave it out, please.” It was the gown she’d dreamed she’d worn to the cave and it seemed right to ensure she donned it today.

The maid directed the lads as they returned with pails of steaming water, then she added vanilla scented oil and a sprinkle of dried petals. Done, she closed the door behind her after the servants filed out.

Alone, Katherine sat at the side table, lifted the small bowl of honey and swirled it over top of the hot oats. She slid a spoonful into her mouth. Delicious, and it tasted exactly like Mum used to make on those cold winter mornings when she’d been a child. Her chest throbbed and she blinked furiously, suddenly fighting tears. Grief hit at the most unexpected times, when a thought or memory fluttered. She and Marie talked often about Mum, but her sister wasn’t here to share her current burden. Her mother’s passing at forty-five had been far too young, but cancer struck no matter what age. At least they’d had three years together before her illness had finally taken her.

Scrubbing a hand over her face, she murmured, “I miss you Mum. I wish you could have lived and traveled to this glorious place.”