Highlander's Magic (Highlander Heat #2)

“You lot better be laughing with me, and not at me. We fae are an antsy lot.”


She eased down the center aisle, sat on the bench at the stern and fluffed her skirts around her. Katherine had always adored dressing up in long gowns as a child. She’d love this era. Her heart squeezed. She missed her sister and longed to see her, to hold her. This morning she’d not looked upon the faerie circle. She did now. Her amulet wasn’t visible from this low down on the water, but the perimeter stones remained solid and strong. The circle was her way back, provided she could see to Archie’s wish.

Back straight, she focused all her energy on thinking positively, or at least she did until Archie stepped out from the gates and strode toward her. He carried himself as a leader of men, his stride purposeful and his determination unwavering.

Oh, and what that man could do with his determination. She tingled anew, from her head to her toes. He’d devoted attention to every single inch of her during the night. Her Highlander from another time was a man she wanted more of, and for as long as she was here.

He bounded into the boat, a bundle of clothing tucked under his arm as he hiked toward her. His steps slowed as he gazed at her neck then with his lips lifting, he leaned in and kissed her, tantalizingly hot. “Stow these garments under the seat, and Marie, I want to as well.”

She touched the sensitive spots on her neck. “You’re very territorial.”

“I simply want what is mine.” He took his position at the rudder and bellowed, “Let’s sail. John awaits us at Loch Gruinart.”

The men plunged their oars in and heaved. With no wind, the sail remained down, forcing them to rely on manpower alone. It was mid-morning before they neared the southern tip of Islay and hit the cross breeze of the sound.

“Hoist the sail,” Archie called. The wind caught it and it unfurled with a hearty slap. Two men heaved the ropes into their secured position and knotted them. “Hold onto something, Marie.”

She gripped the bench as they shot off along the coastline. The crisp wind whipped her hair across her face and numbed her nose and lips. A nasty draft swept under her skirts and chilled her legs. Goodness, the weather could turn in an instant in the isles. She tucked her skirts under her as best she could. “What happens once we get there?”

“I’ll find John and confer with him.” He brushed his thumbs under her eyes. “You need more rest. I kept you awake too late.”

“I’m not complaining. The night wasn’t nearly long enough for me.” She kissed his stubbly jaw. “I want another one, with you all to myself.”

“As do I, lass, though first you shall rest.”

“Rest is totally overrated.” Grinning, she slid onto his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled into his silky brown hair. “Will it be possible?”

“Rest? Aye, provided you close your eyes.”

“I meant another night, with you.”

“For now you need to obey my orders.”

“You like ordering me about far too much, but aye, Captain, I’ll do as you bid.” She snuggled against him and sighed. “Just this once.”



Archie’s men scurried about deck. With an adjustment to the rudder where he sat on the rear bench seat, he maintained their course along the coastline. They worked together with ease, his men rarely requiring instruction. They were islanders and seafarers, the waterways of the Inner Hebrides their home.

Nestled against him, Marie dozed. How could he have agreed to bring her on such a mission? He’d been so determined before this morn to keep her safely within Dunyvaig’s walls, and now, she slept as he traveled into battle.

He stroked her hair, longing to have her back in his bed with her glorious golden mane floating over his pillow and their combined scents mixing as he devoured every inch of her body. Instead, he allowed her gentle breaths warming his chest to soothe the raging need inside him.

His cock hardened, and he wished for her to ease the ache as she had throughout the night. Hell, after their bath when she’d wrapped her lips around him, he’d almost come. More than once, he’d struggled to hold back from thrusting inside her, to having her sweet channel tighten around him as she’d done with his fingers. If only he could, and be assured his seed wouldn’t take.

“Archie,” she murmured. “You feel tense. What’s going on?”

“Naught. I didnae mean to wake you.”

She rubbed his chest then settled her palm over his heart. “Is it the coming battle?”

“Aye, but ’tis more.” He leaned closer, his voice low. “I have wishes aplenty, to be buried deep inside your beautiful body.”

“You do?” She sank her bottom into his groin, coming into direct contact with the steel pike in his trews. She smiled, her lips lifting so deliciously. “Do you remember when we talked about protection at the village?”