Highlander's Kiss (Clan Matheson #1)

“I’ve met Megan. She and Michael are Iain, Finlay, and Kirk’s parents. Cherub brought them to my time to attend their sons’ wedding. That was a wonderful day.”


“She said Cherub and Kirk are waiting for you downstairs in the great hall.” His aura became flushed with a haze of blue, the color always signifying frustration and turmoil, not that she couldn’t tell by his clenched fists and rigid stance of his current emotions.

“Then Cherub’s here to collect me and I must go.” She wrapped one hand around his forearm and the blue haze of frustration in his aura receded. “You must believe me when I say we’re no’ mated.”

“A mated male knows when he meets his chosen one.” A look of longing flashed across his face as he lifted a lock of her hair and curled it around his finger. “Your hair is so soft and silky, and you look beautiful in your gown.”

“And you are a charmer with your touching words.” She let go of him and walked from the bathroom, through his chamber and out his open bedroom door. The passageway, lit with bright overhead lighting led toward a stairwell at the far end. She strode along the burgundy and blue runner as Tavish jogged in beside her.

“Julia, I don’t need the full moon to guide me to my chosen one, not when being near you tells me all I need to know. I’ve also no idea why our auras aren’t tugging toward each other’s as you’ve said, but that matters little to me.” He lifted a challenging brow. “Do you not feel anything toward me?”

“I dinnae have the right to speak of it if I do.” He was taken, and she would never come between a soul bound pair.

“That’s not what I asked.” He caught her hand, slowed her step then pressed her back against the wall. Head dipped, he touched his nose to hers, and murmured, “My desire for you is growing, in leaps and bounds. All I want to do is hold you, kiss you, to discover everything there is to learn about you.”

“The only thing you need to learn is that I’m not yours.” She fluttered a hand over her racing heartbeat. Those words sounded wrong even as she uttered them and they clashed inside her, made her cringe. “Let me go, Tavish.”

“That is still the wrong answer.” Smoothly, he slid his hand under her hair and palmed the bare skin of her nape, his gaze moving over the sensitive area where her shoulder and neck met. He rubbed one thumb over the spot. “I want to bite you, to mark you as mine, just as those mated pairs in my clan do.”

“’Tis an anomaly for sure.” She touched his neck in return, right over his thumping pulse point.

“It’s no anomaly, but the early stages of the bond taking form.” He eased closer, brushed his nose through her hair and nuzzled her neck. “Since the moment we met, I’ve struggled to let you out of my sight. When you walked into the bathroom and away from me, all I wanted to do was tear that door down so we were no longer separated. Now I’m about to take you downstairs to Cherub and Kirk when it’s the last thing I want to do. You are mine.”

“Tavish!” A man bounded up the stairs, a man identical to Tavish in every way, even down to the blue trews and the billowy black tunic he wore. “I got your message from Megan, that you’ve found your mate.”

“Allow me to introduce Julia to you.” Tavish lifted his head, wrapped one arm around her waist and drew her forward. “Julia, this is Tor, my brother. Tor, Julia.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you.” Tor hugged her then stepped back with a grin. “I’ll enjoy finally having a sister.”

“’Tis wonderful to meet you too, although mayhap you could speak to your brother for me. He believes we’re mated and I cannae seem to convince him otherwise.”

Tor cast a worried look at his brother. “She doesn’t believe you?”

“It appears my mate holds the fae skill of aura reading and as yet hasn’t seen the signal that proves we’re mated. Our auras should tug toward each other’s. For now, I’ll have to convince her in other ways.”

“Word has already spread of her arrival, and our clansmen are eager to meet her. Cherub and Kirk also asked you to hurry. They need to speak to Julia about an issue of great importance.”

“Which means I must go.” She snuck out of Tavish’s hold and descended the stairs. At his rumbling growl from behind, she picked up her pace. “Dinnae let you bear control you, Tavish.”

“My bear is about to burst from me and snatch you away.”

“I’m sure your bear would never do any such thing.” Not when she truly wasn’t his. She reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped through the front foyer. The main doors leading into the great hall were embossed with the chief’s arms that held two bears as supporters either side, those bears signifying all that they fought for—the survival of a loyal race of shifters—Gilleoin’s line. A line which must continue to grow from strength to strength and not be permitted to falter.