Highlander's Heart (Clan Matheson #2)

“I do desire both of you. Never think I dinnae.” Panting, she pulled back an inch, her chest heaving within the constraints of her low-cut bodice, her full breasts swelling forth. “You muddle my thoughts, make me lose my mind when you’re this close.”


“Muddling is good.” He wanted his mate, but for her to come to him freely. Slowly, he slid his hands down her sides, stepped back and picked up the basket. Time for them to leave this place before he no longer could. “You lead the way down the trail. I need to speak to your father and my brother, as soon as possible.”

“Father will be quite shocked to learn I’m now mated. He waited three years from my coming of age to ensure I wasnae.” She grasped her deep red skirts and glided down the winding forest trail, her long golden locks swaying at her waist, strands lifting and fluttering as they dried in the gentle breeze.

Down the forest pathway thick either side with low scrub, he followed his chosen one, as he’d follow her anywhere their lives led them. Small creatures rustled within the undergrowth while in the canopy high above, birds twittered within their nests. The air swirled and Layla’s wild cherry scent wafted over him, so fresh and sweet and beyond tempting. All he wanted to do was catch her up in his arms, tramp right back up that trail to their hidden pool and have his wicked way with her. She was his mate, the one woman he would lay his life down for, never wished to be without, never—

“’Tis so peaceful here. Dinnae you think so, Tor?” She skipped over thick tree roots twisting across the path, turned and bounced backward, her smile wide.

“Watch your step.”

“You need only watch your own—” She stumbled over a snaking root and gasped, toppled back and caught herself midair. Floating a few inches above the ground, her hair brushing the grassy trail, she seized the basket he’d dropped as he’d launched himself to catch her, the spill of cherries bobbing in the air as he gripped her around the waist. They floated just like that, him stretched out over top of her, every inch of their bodies touching.

Weightless, he arched a brow at her. “You were saying…”

“Step. You need only watch your own step and never mind mine. I’ve yet to topple over and not catch myself in time as I just did.” Gently, she touched a finger to his lower lip. “I do wonder what it would be like to kiss you. I want you to know that.”

“I want to do far more than kiss you right now. I want to devour you.”

“Our mated bond is growing swiftly.”

“Aye, the ties binding our souls together will continue to weave into one until not a single strand separates us.” He closed his eyes, opened them again, his very essence demanding he take the choice from her, kiss her and never let her go. Although the man his father had taught him to be, made him remain right where he was. “I want you, heart, body, and soul.”

“You have already stolen a piece of my heart, a piece I’ll never be able to claim back again.” She pushed her hands into his hair, buried her face in his neck then lifted them up with her skill and set them back down on their feet. She stepped back, swept the floating cherries into the basket and motioned for him to take it. “’Tis all yours again. Dinnae drop the basket again.”

“Thank you.”

With a soft sigh, she continued on down the path, her next softly whispered words floating to him. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve no need to be sorry.” He trekked after her and before too long, they emerged from the woods and the thick stone walls of the House of Clan Matheson rose like an impenetrable fortress. Guardsmen patrolled the battlements either side of the gatehouse, while the four-story north tower house beyond it overlooked it all. Clear skies reigned overhead with only a smattering of gauzy white cloud and the sun, a fiery burst of golden-yellow, spread its summer warmth across their land.

At the sea-gate, the glittering waters of the loch lapped gently into shore and near the stables, a gangly-legged lad in loosely belted breeches brushed a sleek black war horse while next to him, two armed warriors mounted their steeds then galloped past and disappeared down the main trail into the depths of the forest.

They walked underneath the gate’s arch and inside the keep. Across the inner bailey in the training area, a good fifty warriors wielded swords in a battle of strength against one another, Tavish and Kirk amongst them.

“Father.” Layla lifted a hand as Gregor strode toward them in a loose tan tunic over his belted plaid, his sword swinging at his side and his dark hair cut short, a streak of silver flaring back from his brow on one side.

“I was just about to ride out and search for you.” Gregor caught Layla up in his arms and hugged her, his love for his daughter shining through. “Have you been out all night?”

“Aye.” A flush bloomed on her cheeks. “Tor and I are mated, Father. We discovered the bond had taken when the full moon rose.”

“You’re mated to Tor?” Gregor shot him a wide-eyed look. “Is this true? Your chosen one is my daughter?”