Highland Steam

Highland Steam Eliza Knight Tragedy strikes in the Highlands, making Drostan the laird of the Comyn clan and in need of a wife to placate his people. His only choice is to trust in magic and travel to the sacred circle of stones…where he must passionately lay claim to the woman Fate brings him. Briana is lost and alone when magic lights up the night. She meets the man of her dreams, a man who rocks her to her very core with orgasm after orgasm and somehow manages to steal her heart. The problem? The man of her dreams lives eight hundred years in the past.

Ellora’s Cave Publishing

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Highland Steam ISBN 9781419939747 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Highland Steam Copyright © 2012 Eliza Knight Edited by Carrie Jackson Cover design by Syneca Photography: Les Byerley Electronic book publication February 2012 The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. The publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book. The publisher does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for, author or third-party Web sites or their content.

HIGHLAND STEAM

Eliza Knight

Dedication To the Hubs. Thank you for encouraging me to do what I love.

Eliza Knight

Chapter One Scottish Highlands, Present Day Briana broke through the copse of trees, sweat glistening on her skin, not from the sun gleaming down but from the exertion of walking up rocky slopes for hours. She stopped in her tracks and gazed at what appeared to be a pile of old stones in the center of a clearing—probably an ancient ruin of some sort. She swiped her hand over her forehead and then brushed her palms on her athletic shorts. Taking a deep breath, she walked closer to the ruins. There were five tall pillars in a semicircle with an arch of some sort at the head. A few smaller structures sat between the pillars and in the center of the circle, a large flat stone—nearly the size of a full bed. She sat on a chair-sized smooth rock outside the circle and smacked her broken GPS tracking system against her hand, hoping it would zing back to life. “Dammit!” She was well and truly lost now. Judging from the sun it was late afternoon, which meant she’d been wandering the mountain, lost, for about four hours. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and cursed again. The stupid thing had absolutely no reception. What a waste. She had no way of getting back to where she’d started from. Why hadn’t she just stayed put? Better yet, why had she insisted on going on a hike in the Highland mountains by herself? And Ben Nevis too, one of the highest summits on the western end of the Grampian Mountains, for heaven’s sake. Had she lost her mind? She wasn’t even from Scotland. Not even Europe for that matter. She was from New York City—the only mountains she climbed were corporate office building stairs on her way to work at a worldwide bank.

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Her coworkers thought she was crazy when she suddenly quit her job to travel to Europe. Everyone at the inn she was staying at told her she was crazy for climbing Ben Nevis by herself but she’d given them a dumb smile and held up her piece-of-shit GPS system that was supposed to keep her on track. Lot of good that did. She frowned at nothing, glared at the pretty spring wildflowers poking between pebbles and snarled at the green leafy trees that dared to grow on Ben Nevis. This trip to Scotland was supposed to be a healing trip. Supposed to make her forget the sudden and tragic death of her parents—and how she was now truly alone in the world. No siblings. No boyfriend—she’d had her share but they’d all been a bunch of selfish, unfeeling jerks. She and her parents were the last of the Kane line. The idea had never bothered her before. She’d always figured she had time. But then tragedy set in. She was alone. And her dream since childhood had been to be surrounded by lots of family, by those who loved her and who she loved in return. Her dreams were only flights of fancy. She’d never have that. Not with her track record. And especially not now that she would surely meet her death atop this wretched, beautifully enchanting mountain. She should have listened when the townspeople told her she was just acting on impulse to go up alone. By the time they found her… She couldn’t think like that. She was lost. She was tired, thirsty, hungry—the PowerBar she’d packed eaten within the first hour of her hike. She had to pee. Briana had been through survival class. Although it’d been some years, she still remembered. Perhaps she could keep herself alive until morning. She could find some berries and roots to eat. She wouldn’t starve to death. Taking care of business first, she then rooted around in the bushes for sustenance. She came back to the smooth rock that felt familiar, safe, with a few handfuls. She munched on tart berries and some nuts she’d found and watched the sun start to set. 7

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The pink-and-orange hues of the setting sun shimmered against the ruins. The archway in particular seemed to spark to life with the glowing sky—the way the sun hit the stones was mesmerizing. The way it was situated made her believe it must be an entryway—to what, she wasn’t sure. Briana stood up to investigate, walking around the front of the archway. There didn’t appear to be any stones beyond it for at least a hundred yards. As if this was a gate to the ruins maybe? She groaned, wishing she’d studied history a bit more before making this adventure. At least while she was stuck out in the wilderness, she could learn something. She skimmed her hand over the archway, bits of mortar between the stones coming away as dust. Her fingers ran over ridges and dips in the stone. Were those patterns? With the dimming light it was hard to tell. She touched them again. They were patterns. She tried to wipe away some of the moss and debris to see what the patterns were. It looked like maybe they were symbols—ancient symbols. Celtic symbols? She sighed and rolled her eyes, again irritated she hadn’t at least paid more attention on her tour of a couple castles the day before. She touched the Celtic designs again. What did they mean?

***** Scottish Highlands, 1296 “I dinna ken what to do.” Drostan Comyn, newly made laird of Clan Comyn and Inverlochy Castle, paced the great hall. “’Tis a sad thing about your brother.” Drostan turned an eye on his second-in-command, Artair. “A sad thing? ’Tis an understatement.” Drostan’s brother Niall and his wife had been slain at dawn by a band of Campbell warriors as they’d made love in the sacred glen on Ben Nevis. A ritual their clan had

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taken to for the laird to get his wife with child for the first time. But Niall and Ceana’s lovemaking had been cut short. Their blood spilled on the sacred marriage-rock bed. He dropped into a chair, his elbows coming to his knees and head falling into his palms. He should have been better prepared, he should have kept his brother and his sister by marriage safe. Niall had insisted he make love to his wife in private, forgoing the usual ritual of five witnesses each taking their place in front of a sacred pillar. Drostan had relented and that was when the enemy struck. The superstitions of the clan had taken over immediately, all believing they were now doomed to a worse Fate. “Ye have to save the clan, Dros.” Drostan’s gaze shot upward to view Artair as he stood, arms crossed over his chest and looking down his nose. Artair was not only a loyal and true friend to Drostan but had been to his father before him. Artair had trained Drostan, shown him how to be a man, a warrior. He trusted him completely. “What can I do?” His mind raced, flashes of his brother’s slashed body and that of his beheaded wife forming before his eyes. “You must take a wife upon the sacred stone.” “A wife?” “Aye.” Who would he get to marry him upon the stone that still held his family’s blood? As if reading his thoughts, Artair said, “Not a wife from Inverlochy.” Drostan furrowed his brow in confusion. “From where then?” “If the legends be true, then she will come to ye.” “Mo creach, I dinna ken what nonsense ye speak.” Drostan could not help his anger, his frustration. His entire world had fallen this morning. He wanted nothing more than to attack the Campbells for what they’d done but he had no proof. Just the tale of a nearby sheepherder who’d seen the Campbell colors as they’d fled.

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Artair placed a thick, heavy hand on Drostan’s shoulder. His eyes were dark, his craggy nose long and his lips pressed together in seriousness. “Ye must get hold of yourself, Drostan. Ye’re laird now. Your people need ye.” Placing his hands on either of Drostan’s arms, Artair hauled him to standing. “Gather five witnesses and go to the circle of stones. Ye will need to lie upon the sacred bed and wait for dusk.” Drostan frowned. “Then what?” “If what my grandmam said be true, then your intended will come to ye. Ye must seal the bonds of marriage upon the stone.” Drostan shook his head. Utter nonsense. “Magic, ye tell me?” Artair nodded, his solemn face looking doubtful and apprehensive. “Why should I go to the trouble of doing this if it be magic? I dinna believe in magic.” He raked his hands through his thick hair. Artair played with his red-and-gray beard, his fingers running down a long braid in the center of his chin. “Ye might not believe it but your people do.” He shrugged. “At least it will give ye some time to think of a way to make things right. ’Haps think of a bonny, fertile lass to impregnate soon.” With a deep sigh, Drostan stood. “I’d best be going then. ’Tis nearly dusk.”

***** As Briana stroked the path of ancient designs, one by one they sparked to life, setting off an ethereal glow. She pulled her hand back in shock and amazement, her eyes widening, lips parting slightly. “What in the world?” Curiosity took hold and she reached out to touch the symbols again. She traced them, watching as bluish-gold sparks of life lit each one.

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“Ouch!” She yanked her hand back as a spark jolted her insides. But saying ouch was more of a natural, automatic response. It didn’t really hurt. If anything, the warm spark of sensation felt…good. She stepped forward, closer, only inches away and laid both hands on the glowing symbols. Warmth like silken fire ignited within her palms and spread in a delicious wave up her arms and to her heart, to her breasts, making her nipples tingle, and lower until her insides throbbed with yearning and her sex grew slick and clenched with the need to be filled. Her clit throbbed. Now that was too much. She yanked away, stepping back several feet, and looked around her, half expecting someone to be staring at her, brows raised in accusatory questioning. But there was no one there. She was alone. She turned back to the stones, expecting to see the glowing had stopped, only a figment of her imagination, a trick of the setting sun’s light. A hint she was slowly losing her mind. Wrong. The symbols glowed and now the entire archway filled with light, beckoning her. Swirling mists encroached on the glen, whirling around her ankles, and if she wasn’t mistaken it felt as though the mists had grown limbs and nudged her toward the arched opening. Her breath quickened. She bit the inside of her cheek and rubbed her arms. She wondered what was happening and if she’d passed out from exhaustion. Things like this didn’t happen in real life. Not to her, not to anyone. Only in books and movies. A soft chanting sounded in the churning mist, in the very air around her.

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She couldn’t make out the words. They sounded foreign to her but they were mesmerizing and her feet began to move of their own volition, taking her closer to the arch. As she drew nearer, she viewed something inside, different than before. But she couldn’t be sure. The sun had dropped so quickly, leaving only shadows and the faint glow from the earthy erections. She peered through the opening at what looked like figures. She gasped in fear. It did look like people now inhabited the stone circle. She swallowed hard and tried to turn away but an invisible force held her, made her look. Briana gazed from one pillar to the next. Five large, muscular men wrapped in Scottish plaids, soft leather boots up to their knees, regarded her. They stood before each of the five pillars. No one smiled, they only stared at her as though they’d expected her arrival. But how was that possible? “Wh-who are you?” she stammered, her nerves jumbled into a tight, hot ball in her throat. “Come…” someone whispered. She stared from one man to the other. Who had issued the command for her approach? None of their lips had moved. Then her gaze fell on the large, flat stone in the center of the circle. A man every bit as well-muscled and tall as the others lay there beckoning to her. His hair hung loose, about chin length. His face was shadowed but from what she could see he had chiseled features, a sexy, beckoning smile. She shook her head in fear, confusion. He was hot. He was…nude. Gloriously nude. Her body sparked to life, nipples begging for him to caress them, suckle them. Her pussy flooded, need dripping down her thighs. Her arms came up, her hands crossing over her chest to touch her throat as her body warmed. She shook her head again. How was it he could elicit such a reaction from her? She didn’t know who he was. She didn’t sleep with strangers. 12

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His cock jutted from his trim and contoured stomach. The muscled V of his hips acted as an arrow toward his thick, long erection. She licked her lips, suddenly having the urge to take his cock into her mouth, to lick the drop of wetness from the ruddy head. The man leaned up on his elbows and beckoned to her again. “Come to me.” His voice was thick with a Scottish burr, deep and alluring. He spoke from firm, sensual lips that had her imagining how he’d kiss, how those lips would feel against her flesh. “What is this?” she asked. Fear still snaked around her spine despite her desire to feel his muscular length between her thighs. “’Tis our joining, lass.” “Joining?” “Aye. To save the Comyn Clan.” “Common clan?” “Aye, my people, your people.” She looked again at the men who stood at the pillars. Their hands were placed at the smalls of their backs as they stood at attention and even in the dusky light she could see the hilts of their swords at their backs. They were ready to do battle if needed. But why? This was the twenty-first century. Battles didn’t happen anymore. Unless, of course, she’d succumbed to exhaustion and at this very moment was actually lying on the ground beyond the circle, completely unconscious. The berries! Maybe the berries she’d eaten had been poisonous and now she was hallucinating. “I-I need water,” she managed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Come to me and I will give ye whatever ye need.” His eyes locked with hers and a level of trust passed between them. Briana suddenly felt safe, secure. She wanted to go to him.

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She took a step closer. Warmth built in the pit of her stomach—and a pressure, gloriously sensual in nature, warmed her sex. He stroked his thick cock and with his free hand beckoned her closer. His eyes sparkled with desire, mischief and his lips curved into a wicked grin. She couldn’t help smiling in response. He wanted her. She’d never seen a man this hot want her this much before. Hell, if she was crazy enough to climb up a mountain by herself, she was crazy enough to fuck a hot man inside a stone circle. And besides, it was only a hallucination anyway. She’d probably wake up naked in the middle of a meadow in the morning with a headache to rival all others. Might as well enjoy her hallucination while she was still having it. Briana took a deep breath and stepped the rest of the way through the stone archway.

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Chapter Two Drostan stared as the beautiful woman stepped through the archway. She’d been wearing odd scraps of fabric that barely covered her legs and arms before stepping through but now stood gloriously nude before him. He gulped. She gulped in return. “My clothes…” she said but did not cover herself. “No need for clothes here. See, I too am naked.” She smiled, her plump pink lips curling seductively. She twirled her blonde locks, seeming to him a nervous gesture. He could not place the color of her eyes in the darkness but they were wide as a goblet was round. “Come closer,” he said softly. She glanced around at his men, her face glowing red with embarrassment. “Turn your backs,” he ordered. Without a word of protest, his men turned to face the glen. “Thank you,” she whispered. He couldn’t place her accent. Not English, nor Irish. Odd. She spoke English though. ’Haps she was Welsh. He’d never met anyone from Wales and other than her, he never wanted to. He patted the space beside him and she slowly glided toward him on long, lithe legs. She sat tentatively. “It’s warm.” Her scent intoxicated him. She smelled of womanly essence and flowers. “Mmmhmm,” he muttered as he ran a finger over the length of her silky arm.

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He had not expected the magic of the stone circle to work and when he’d spied the oval-shaped face, high cheekbones and kissable lips of this woman through the archway he’d been speechless for a moment. If any woman had come at all, he hadn’t expected her to be so enchanting as— “What is your name?” he asked as he placed a kiss upon the inside of her elbow. The woman shivered, her eyes closing for a moment. He could smell the desire on her. His cock throbbed with the need to bury deep inside her cunny and he wanted nothing more than to spread her thighs wide and lick away every last drop from between the folds of her sex. “Briana,” she breathed out in a sensual whoosh as he nibbled at the flesh on her arm. “A name fit for a goddess.” She tilted her head to the side as he pressed his lips to the throb of her heartbeat on her neck. Her teeth scraped over her lower lip in a move Drostan found utterly exciting. His limbs thrumbed alive, his cock hard as stone. He was eager to bury himself inside her, watch her bite her lip as he plunged hard and deep. “What is your name?” she asked. “I am Drostan.” “Mmm…fitting,” she murmured. “Why is that?” he asked, his lips skimming her chin. “Sounds like a warrior name.” He chuckled. “I am that. Are ye Welsh, lass?” “No.” “English?” “I suppose my ancestors were. I think some Irish too.” He was surprised to hear it. He’d thought not. “Hmm… At least ye’re part Celt.” “Oh,” she sighed as his lips came down softly on hers.

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Her mouth was warm, pliable and tasted of berries. He swept his tongue inside, swirling with hers. Briana was no virgin to kissing and Drostan liked it. He’d feared a virgin coming to him and had assumed bedding his bride would be embarrassing and awkward. Briana was proving to him it was going to be anything but that. She kissed him passionately and with vigor. Her tongue searched out his, her lips pressed and slid against his own. He growled low in his throat as her fingers skimmed over the flesh of his abdomen, her nails scraping lightly. Drostan circled the sides of her waist with his hands, slightly surprised to feel the muscles beneath her silky flesh. Most of the woman he’d bedded had either been bony or fleshy, none possessed the suppleness of Briana’s body. He needed to feel more. He traced over her abdomen, her hips and finally to her ass. Mo creach, it was glorious. Two soft, firm globes formed her rear and he squeezed and massaged the muscles. His cock jumped and he wanted to feel the globes of her ass cheeks surrounding him as he pumped inside her. But that would have to wait. She might kiss like an experienced lover, she might caress him as such but that didn’t mean she— His thoughts cut off abruptly as her long fingers surrounded his shaft and squeezed lightly upward. Her other hand found his sac, massaging his ballocks with gentle pressure. He took it back, she was experienced, no doubt. She pushed him back and rose above him, her legs on either side of his thighs, her hands massaging a path from his shoulders to his chest. “You’re a good kisser, Scotsman,” she said with a wicked twinkle in her eyes. “As are ye, lass.” “Must be the berries,” she murmured as she bent low and pressed her lips to the skin of his abdomen. “Berries…aye, ye did taste of berries.”

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“Mmm-hmm…” Her mouth traveled lower, coming to a stop just below his bellybutton. “Shall we see what you taste like?” He grunted in response and lifted his hips slightly in invitation. God’s teeth, she was a temptress. Her silky hands stroked his cock up and down, massaged his ballocks, and her hot breath cascaded down the length of his shaft in delicious torment. Drostan threaded his fingers through her tresses, marveling at how soft they were. He applied gentle pressure to the back of her head, wanting, praying she would take his length in her mouth. The wench had the nerve to chuckle at him and tease him all the more by flicking out her tongue and brushing its velvety wet tip over the center of his cock head. “Och, lass, ye torment me.” “Tsk, tsk. Ye aren’t a patient mon, are ye?” she chided in an imitation brogue. “Dinna ye worry now, I’ll suck your cock good and well.” Before he could laugh at her mocking, she sucked the length of him deep into her throat—so far, he could feel the edge tighten around the head of his cock. A low, guttural moan escaped him and he bucked as white-hot heat whipped as relentlessly through his limbs as she was at sucking his turgid flesh. Up and down she went, sucking hard then gently, her tongue swirling around the head, around the shaft. Her hands worked magic on his sac, on his cock. God, he didn’t know where her mouth began or ended, only that it felt so damn good. His muscles relaxed and then tightened again and again. As she worked him with her tongue, he explored the soft flesh of her breasts until he could no longer explore anything. Intense pleasure took hold, incapacitating him. He was at her mercy. Carnal groans escaped him. He wasn’t going to last. He was going to come—but would that ruin everything? Would she disappear? He was supposed to consummate the sacred marriage bed, which meant he could only come inside her cunny—not her mouth. 18

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“Mo creach,” he grunted and pulled her from his cock. Instantly he felt the need to mount her, thrust deep inside her, finish what had been started. His erection was like granite and he was swiftly losing control. “What’s wrong?” she asked, a dazed look on her face, her swollen red lips shaped like a bow. Her hair was tousled from him gripping it, making her look all the more luscious. “I cannae come inside your mouth, lass.” She smirked in a wicked way and licked her lips. “But you want to.” “Oh, aye. And after today, I will.” He let her imagination roam as he licked at his own lips and trailed his fingers over her nipples, her abdomen and then one long stroke between the folds of her damp sex. She shivered, a soft moan escaping her. “But first, I need to fuck ye.” Her eyelids fluttered, heavy with need. “Yes.” She gripped his hand in hers, keeping it on her cunny. She was dripping wet. He thrust his fingers inside, delighting with male satisfaction when she cried out with pleasure and her muscles clenched. Briana pressed him down again and straddled over his pulsing cock.

***** She’d never been so hot for a man before. Her limbs shook with the need for satisfaction. Her lips were swollen and tingled from sucking his thick, long cock. Damn, those berries were fucking awesome. Drostan pulled his digits from her body and instantly she felt the emptiness, but his rod, which lay pressed heavily on her abdomen, would fill that void and more. She smoothed her hands up and down his length, preparing to impale herself on him, when a wicked glint entered his eyes and he shook his head. “First I get to taste ye.”

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“Oh,” she gasped as he gripped her by the hips and hauled her pussy toward his face. She sucked in a breath, panting in anticipation. His tongue snaked out to lick at his lips and her pussy clenched, tingling, waiting, wanting. She straddled his face and looked down, his naughty gaze caught on hers. “Ye’re going to like this, lass.” He winked. Oh. My. God. A man had never talked to her like this, never promised her such pleasure. How she wished he was real. But she wasn’t going to let a little thing like reality impede on her fantasy. She ran her hands through his thick, wavy hair—hair that felt pretty damn real—and she smiled. “Savor me.” She’d never talked to a man during sex, let alone made demands, but something about Drostan, something about this whole ethereal experience made her bold. With his eyes still locked on hers, Drostan spread her pussy lips wide and with deliberate slowness licked at her clit. He swirled around the bundle of nerves, licked at her lips then came back to her clit. Shudders racked her body. Then he delicately sucked her clit. “Mmm…” Her moans came urgently. Her hips rocked and she yanked at his hair, gripped his head, wanting, needing him to continue. His tongue was relentless as it whipped from her clit to her pussy, thrusting inside before swirling back out to tease her lips. He nibbled, he sucked, he stroked. The pleasure was so intense, so exotic, she thought she’d die, simply burst and fly away. “Ride my face, lass, yes, ride my tongue. Mmm… Ye taste so good.” Briana did as he instructed, undulating back and forth all the more. And just when she thought she could take no more, that she would collapse from pure bliss, the world stilled for a brief moment and then shattered. Her thighs shook, her pussy clenched and fluttered, her clit spiked and fired, sending current after current of deliciousness through her limbs. 20

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Before she could regain thought or control of her limbs, Drostan took hold of her waist, lifted her in the air and settled her over his cock, pressing firmly between her thighs. “Now ye can take me inside ye.” His jaw muscle ticked. His eyes were heavily lidded and dark with desire. Briana ran her hands seductively over the light, crisp sprinkling of hair on his wide, muscled chest, relishing the way her fingertips tingled. She stroked down his abdomen and took hold of his thick cock. She was surprised that after such an explosive orgasm, she still desperately wanted more. Knees braced, she lifted up, slipping the head of his cock toward the opening of her pussy. The way the soft yet firm head slid over her clit had her gasping, her legs clenching tighter. A fresh flood of need wetted her insides. She slid his cock head back over her clit, needing to feel that luscious sensation once more. “Och, lass, I need ye now,” Drostan said through gritted teeth. “I can feel your honey dribbling over my cock.” Briana still couldn’t get over the dirty, sensual way he spoke to her. No one had ever spoken to her that way and she found she liked it. His guttural words only heightened her senses all the more. She wasted no time capitulating to his demands, also not able to stand a moment longer without him buried deep inside her. This time when she placed his tip at her opening, she thrust downward, feeling herself stretch with delightful pain and pleasure beyond the limits as his massive organ filled her. “Oh,” she moaned, shuddering from the wondrous sensations. Drostan grunted with male pleasure. “Ye are so tight. Sopping wet.” He leaned up, threading his fingers through her hair and pulled her down toward him for a searing, carnal kiss. His tongue lashed inside her mouth as he claimed her.

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And while his kiss took possession of her mouth, his thrusting cock took possession of her body. The sensations of his thick shaft stroking in and out of her had Briana whimpering with pure, erotic pleasure. She’d never felt anything like it, never wanted it to stop. With his lips and tongue still staking their claim against hers, his fingers traveled over the flesh of her back, leaving tingling chills in their wake. Briana felt as though her entire body had come alive. With each shift in the wind, with each subtle caress and every deep thrust of his cock and tongue, she drifted higher and higher. Drostan traced over her ribs until each hand cupped a breast, weighing them. She hadn’t realized until then how very much she wanted him to touch her breasts. His calloused hands teased her sensitive flesh as his palms scraped the undersides and his thumbs brushed over her nipples. She moaned, thinking it was not possible to feel even better, his actions only showing her how untrue that thought was. She traced his chest just the same as he’d traced hers, feeling the ridges and dips in his muscles, his tiny, hard nipples, the depression of his navel. She reached behind her to stroke her knuckles, palm up, over his thighs. Drostan rocked up and down below her in a move rivaling some of the best tantric lovemakers. He pulled away from her mouth to skim her chin with his wet lips then slid his tongue along her neck, sending shivers racing over her flesh. He kissed his way to her breasts, holding them pressed together so he could easily lick one and the other, back and forth. “Oh God,” she moaned. “Nay. Oh Drostan,” he growled, sucking one of her nipples. He drew hard on her flesh, the pleasure intense. “Yes, Drostan, yes,” she crooned. Briana swiveled, riding him faster, harder. With each press of their loins, her clit rubbed over his pelvic area, sending shuddering sparks from her pussy and outward. 22

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“Och, Briana, ye…are…incredible,” he panted through gritted teeth. She could no longer speak, when she opened her mouth to respond only a feral moan escaped. She quickened her pace and Drostan gripped her ass, pistoning his hips into a faster drive. “I’m gonna come,” she yelped, her limbs shaking uncontrollably as the beginnings of an orgasm brewed inside her. Her pussy clenched his cock tight, then she gasped loudly, sucking in her breath and holding it as her insides spasmed out of control. “Aye, lass, come for me,” Drostan demanded. He fucked her harder, nearly launching them both off the stone as he thrust upward. Briana clenched her legs tight around him as her body broke apart, as wave after wave washed over her. She felt high. She felt more than alive if that was possible. She felt magic coursing through her body. Just as her orgasm started to subside, Drostan clenched his jaw tight, issuing a low growl from his throat before shouting out. His body clenched and tightened between her thighs. He pumped faster and his cum poured out inside her. Thank God it was only a hallucination or she might have had to worry about pregnancy—or worse, disease. With their bodies sated, she collapsed on top of him. Steam rose from the rock and even appeared to waft off their flesh. “That was hot,” she muttered against the warm, salty skin of his shoulder. “Aye, hot and damn good.”

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Chapter Three Drostan did not know what to expect next. He stroked over Briana’s naked back as she lay atop him and stared up at the stars. The sky was black and the stars seemed to shine brighter. When she’d appeared, a thick mist had surrounded them and eerie glows had issued from the pillars. But now it appeared all was normal. He glanced at the pillars. The shadows of his men stood rigid beside them. He felt a little guilty about what they had had to witness here tonight—and more than a little pride too, he had to admit. But mostly he hoped Briana would not be shamed by what had happened. They’d made love. Magic had brought them together and now hopefully she would help him to save his clan, if she hadn’t helped already. He’d have to give magic a bit more credit, having sincerely doubted Artair’s words before now. They lay for a while, her even breathing telling him she’d fallen asleep, but he didn’t have the heart to move her from his body. Within an hour the inky black of the night melted away to show orange-and-gold glows of the rising sun. Now was the time his brother and Ceana had been attacked by Campbells. He wasn’t about to wait around and see if Fate would repeat itself. He patted Briana’s shoulders gently. “Come, we must return to Inverlochy.” Briana sat up atop him, her lips swollen, cheeks red, hair mussed. God’s teeth, she was more beautiful now than she had been before. She stretched her arms up—her perky breasts bouncing seductively—before settling them around her waist in a protective gesture. She glanced around, her eyes growing wide and fear showing on her face. “Inverlochy?” 24

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“Aye. ’Tis not safe for us to remain here.” Gently, he lifted her from him, setting her down beside him. He turned and rummaged on the ground. He picked up his leine shirt and tossed it her way to cover her nakedness. He picked up his plaid and quickly plaited it, wrapping his leather corded belt into place. He sat on the rock to lace up his boots and noticed she hadn’t moved. “Briana, lass, ye must dress.” She looked down absently at the shirt he’d given her. “Where are my clothes?” “I dinna ken. They disappeared.” He saw her throat bob visibly as she swallowed. Again her gaze flickered around the circle of stones. It was obvious her fear was paralyzing her. He’d thought that with her wild ways during the night, she had accepted Fate but he’d guessed wrong. Drostan lifted the shirt and pulled it down over her head, tucking her arms in the overlong sleeves and settling it around her hips. “Come. I’ll explain at the keep.” “Where am I? Who are you? I’m not going anywhere with you!” Her voice had risen. She was close to hysterics. A few of the men grunted and Artair indicated he was going to fetch the horses. Drostan stepped toward Briana, who’d jumped off the marriage rock and was pacing a now-worn path in the grass. “Ye must trust me. I willnae harm ye, lass.” “How can I trust you? I don’t even know who you are.” She raked her hands through her hair, groaning as she caught a few snags with her fingers. “I’m not— normally I don’t—” Drostan smiled. She was embarrassed, naturally. Passion had overcome inhibition. “No need to feel shame, lass. I quite enjoyed last eve and ye have helped Clan Comyn. Ye’re an angel.”

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She stopped, placed her hands on her hips and made an unladylike grunt. “I am no angel. I didn’t save anyone. I fucked your brains out and now you want to take me home. Well, I’m not going. I’m going to stay right here until a rescue party comes to find me. I ate some weird berries last night, I thought you were a hallucination. I need water.” She sat heavily. “There willnae be a rescue party,” Drostan said, his words coming out heavier than he wanted them to. “Fact is, lass, ye are in danger if ye remain here. Ye’ll be safe at Drostan, and anyone who’d come to rescue ye will come there first.” She frowned. “Why there?” He shrugged. “Clan Comyn is the closest to this spot.” She tilted her head and stared at him, he guessed trying to decide if she could trust him. Drostan reached into his boot and pulled out his sgian dubh. Briana’s hands rose up in front of her. “Please don’t hurt me,” she pleaded. “I’ll come with you.” Drostan rolled his eyes and flipped the dagger around so he held the blade and the handle faced her. “I wouldnae hurt ye. I spent the night worshiping ye. I merely wanted ye to have the sgian dubh to make ye feel safer.” Her face colored prettily and she bit her lip. “I’m sorry… Oh, I’m so confused.” She shook her head but took the dagger all the same. “Come. We must go now.” “All right.” Artair returned with the horses. Drostan lifted Briana on top his mount and then rose up behind her. “’Tis just a quick ride down the ridge.” She nodded but said nothing, holding his sgian dubh in a white-knuckled death grip.

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***** OhmyGod. OhmyGod. OhmyGod. Briana chanted the words in her mind, almost comforted but not quite. The heat of Drostan’s body cradling hers as they rode swiftly down the mountain on horseback seeped into her, making her want to snuggle close to him even though she could not comprehend what had happened. She’d been eating berries. The runes had come to life. She’d touched them. Burned her skin—no, not burned, seared—and it had felt good. She’d peered through the archway—more like a portal—and seen Drostan lying there as if expecting her. Then he’d proceeded to deliciously shatter her world for the rest of the night. And all the while she’d given way to her inhibitions, letting herself go, wildly enjoying every second of it, thinking the whole time it was a fantasy, a result of some Highland mountain berries. But now she knew better. She was being carried down the mountain by a real, live Highlander. To his castle Inverlochy. She recognized the name from a castle she’d visited the day before. What the hell had he been doing up there on the mountain anyway, and with his men standing guard? She hadn’t even seen them arrive. The guide had said something at one of the castles she’d visited, about how Highlanders, despite their size, were able to sneak up on the enemy without anyone the wiser. Had she been the victim of a sneak attack? And what kind of man sneaked up on a woman and seduced her? It didn’t make sense. All of it was so weird. Worst of all, she had enjoyed it. Had felt a connection somewhere deep inside—and not because his cock had nearly split her in two. They arrived at Inverlochy moments later. At first the people’s faces looked somber until they alighted on Briana, then their eyes widened and smiles covered their faces. But it wasn’t this odd reaction that had Briana blanching, it was that all the people were dressed as those in the Dark Ages.

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In fact, the entire courtyard looked like a functioning reenactment. A smithy hammered in his shop. Hay littered the ground where a young man was using a tool to sift through it. A grimy family pushed a wagon full of vegetables toward an outbuilding. “What is this place?” she said, mesmerized and horrified at the same time. “’Tis Inverlochy.” She shook her head. “No, this is not Inverlochy.” The Inverlochy she’d visited was a pile of ruins. Some outer walls had still remained, you could even see the gate to the River Lochy, but this was a living, breathing castle. They’d ridden over a moat that surrounded the castle walls and connected with the River Lochy at the back. Four sturdy towers graced the corners of the walls at strategic points and men stood atop, gazing down at the courtyard—more importantly, gawking at her. “Laird Comyn has returned. And with him, he has brought your new mistress.” The man next to Drostan spoke with a thick brogue from atop his horse. A cheer resounded as the people studied her. She shook her head again and tried to turn around to face Drostan. But he leaned down to speak in her ear, stilling her movement. “The people cheer for ye, Briana, the new Lady Comyn.” “Comyn…” The name finally hit her. He hadn’t meant common people when he’d spoken to her last night. He’d said Comyn. And she distinctly remembered the guide speaking about Clan Cummings being Clan Comyn in early medieval days. “This can’t be happening. What is going on?” “We shall speak inside.” Drostan’s words were harshly spoken. He dismounted and helped her down.

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Briana, despite her fear, could not help admiring Drostan—rather Laird Comyn—as he greeted his people with respect and a kind word for each of them. They truly looked up to him, seemed to find him as enthralling as she did. The kind face she’d seen with his people swiftly changed as they entered a private parlor of some sort, Artair at their heels. Drostan slammed the door shut and Briana jumped. He was plainly irritated with her. “Artair, ye said the wench would save our clan. I’d thought your magic worked until she started to shake like a frightened rabbit.” Artair glowered at Drostan, his wrinkled forehead pulling reddish-white bushy brows together, and crossed his thick arms over his chest. “I didnae promise she’d like ye, Dros, just that it was necessary to bed her on the sacred marriage bed. The clan is saved, at least they believe it to be true.” Briana stepped forward, her arms outstretched in annoyance at being talked about as if she were not in the room. “Okay, seriously, what the hell is going on here? I feel like I’m in a nightmare.” Drostan turned a hostile glare toward her. “Ye see, mon? She cannae be the one. She thinks me come from the devil.” “She’s the one.” “I’m not the one.” Artair and Briana spoke at the same time. Drostan turned toward her. “I am laird of one of the most powerful clans in the Highlands. Just yestermorn, my brother was murdered upon that rock with his beloved as they sealed the bonds of their troth, preparing to start a family.” Briana cringed at the picture he created in her mind. “Dinna frown so, lass, ’twas a beautiful thing that passed between them as it ’twas between us, save their lives were stolen by the blasted Campbells. Our clan believes in the magic of the sacred stones, the sacred circle. We were to be cursed with Niall and

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Cearan’s murder. But ye saved us. Ye came to me while I lay there vulnerable to attack. We sealed our bonds in front of witnesses—the very place where my brother’s life essence drained from his body. Ye are my wife now.” Briana swallowed hard. All he’d spoken was a lot for her to take in. She understood his pain at having lost loved ones. She still felt the sharp pains of losing her parents deep in her chest. Part of her leapt at the chance to join with him, to be part of his family, his life. But the rational side of her said it was impossible. “Are you telling me we’re married?” “Aye.” And the castle…so alive, so restored, it could only mean one thing—she’d somehow traveled through time. The blood drained from her face to pool in her feet. She felt unsteady, dizzy. “What is the year?” Artair grunted. “’Tis the year of our Lord, 1296.” Briana nodded, feeling her world spin. She had time-traveled. Now she just had to figure out how to get back to the twenty-first century. For the first time since leaping from his horse in the courtyard, Drostan turned concerned eyes on her. He stepped closer toward her and Briana resisted the urge to step back. After all, they had shared a very intimate night together. He hadn’t hurt her. If anything, he’d been trying to protect her—most likely from a repeat of what happened to his family—and he’d even given her his dagger to protect herself, to make her feel more in control. She let him steady her with a strong arm as she studied his chiseled face now that she could see him in the light. He had strong Norman features. A square chin, long nose, crooked at its center perhaps from battle. A faint scar from the corner of his lip toward his cheekbone.

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His eyes were blue as the sky, rimmed by sapphire. His hair was wavy, the color of gold and fell just above his shoulders. He was massive—broad shoulders, wide chest, thick arms and legs, all muscle. His waist and hips were trim and, she gazed at the place where his cock rested beneath his kilt, she knew another part that was equally massive. He was very handsome. He exuded strength and power. She decided right then and there she could trust him. He was huge, he was powerful and yet he’d done nothing to harm her, quite the opposite, and the look in his eyes—he was pleading with her to trust him. “Briana, are ye all right? Ye are quite pale.” She tried to smile, to reassure him she wasn’t fragile even though she was starting to feel a little lightheaded. “I am all right. I just… I need to go home to my time.” “Inverlochy is your home now,” he stated softly, not seeming at all disconcerted that she had admitted to being from another time. He stroked her face then settled his hands on her shoulders. “Do ye ken that?” She shook her head and kept her eyes locked on his. “I understand you want this to be my home. I’m terribly sorry about what’s happened to your family. But…I-I need to get back to my time. I don’t belong here. I can’t stay.” Not that she had anything or anyone waiting for her back in New York City. Pain ricocheted in Drostan’s gaze. “I ken what ye say, lass. ’Haps ye might take the night to think on it? Stay with my clan for the day, dine with us this eve and in the morn if ye wish I’ll take ye back up the ridge to the circle of stones. If Fate would have ye returned to your time, then so be it.” A weight lifted from her shoulders. Just a day in this time and then she could go back home. There was no way Fate would not intercede once more—she had to! “Thank you, Drostan.”

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His lips quirked into a grin she found utterly disarming. “Where was your home?” “New York City.” His brows drew together. “I have not heard of such a place.” Briana hadn’t thought of that. She was in the Middle Ages—America hadn’t been discovered yet. “It is really far away.” “Ah,” he said with a nod. “What was is it like in—what year?” “The twenty-first century, and it’s—” She glanced around at the courtyard, taking in the medieval garb, earthy scents and utter lack of technology. “It’s much different. Women have rights, we drive cars, wear jeans, eat Lean Cuisines and do Zumba.” Drostan stared at her, puzzlement flashing in his eyes for a mere second before he spoke. “I dinna understand a word ye said lass, save for women have rights. They have rights in Clan Comyn as well, everyone does.” Briana nodded acknowledgment but she wasn’t about to launch into a litany on how things had changed in the future. “I am glad ye’ve come from New York City and abandoned Zumba for a time.” She couldn’t help smiling at the way the foreign words rolled off his tongue. “One of the maids will have drawn ye a bath in my chambers. When ye’ve had a chance to refresh yourself, join me in the great hall. I’ve a mind to show ye all of Inverlochy if I’m only to have ye for a day.” Briana beamed a smile up at the Highland laird and out of impulse pressed her lips to his stubbled cheek. She ignored the flutter in her belly at the feel of his flesh on hers and at his scent as it pried its way inside her. Just a day. She could not allow herself to fall for this man. He was over eighthundred years older than she. Talk about an age difference.

*****

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Drostan watched Briana follow his housekeeper up the stairs toward his chamber. His insides constricted. In the space of one night, he’d fallen harder for Briana than he had for any other lass in his past. How was it possible? All they’d done was rut upon a stone. But that wasn’t the half of it. There’d been a connection between them, something deeper than the pleasures of the flesh. And ‘twasn’t merely Fate, he refused to believe that. It was something more tangible. As if besides what they’d given each other in body, they also shared like minds. He shook his head. It was utter nonsense. Must be grief that had him trying to form a connection where there couldn’t possibly be one. “My laird?” Drostan turned in time to see his steward Smeely standing before him. “Aye, Smee, what is it?” “We shall feast tonight in celebration of ye bringing a bride back to Inverlochy, for the gods interfering where the Campbells would have seen us dead—but, my laird, we must also commence the ceremony for your brother and his wife.” Drostan swallowed hard. He didn’t want to say goodbye but alas it was the way in which life had led him. “We shall await my bride.” “We shall prepare by the loch and when ye both are ready, proceed.” Smeely turned on his heel and headed out of the keep. Drostan needed to prepare Briana for what was to happen. He trudged up the stairs toward his chamber, pausing at the door to take a deep breath before entering. Inside, his room was warm and steam rose from a tub of water, Briana sunken to her shoulders within its depths. Her eyes lit on him with irritation at first and then quickly faded to concern. “Is everything all right?”

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“Aye.” He grabbed the carved oak chair by the hearth and dragged it to the bath. As he settled himself into the chair, his gaze was drawn to her creamy breasts. They bobbed on top the water, her nipples hard and pink. Drostan swallowed and shifted, his cock hard, his mouth watering to taste those nipples. “What are you doing here then?” She looked around as if expecting someone else to enter the room as well. “After ye bathe, we have a ceremony to attend.” Fear flashed in her eyes, he guessed at what was unknown and what her mind was concluding. He hurried to continue. “’Tis a ceremony for my brother and his wife. Upon the loch, their pyres await for us to light their way to the gods.” “They have not yet been buried?” Drostan shook his head. “My brother always dreamed of being celebrated as those in ancient times. He wishes—wished to be placed upon a pyre, burned as he floated upon the loch.” “Oh.” She pursed her lips. “And you wish for me to attend.” Drostan reached inside the warm water and caressed the flesh of her breasts, his body reacting like lightning as she sucked in a ragged moan. “Aye, ’twould mean a lot to me and the clan if ye attended. They ken naught that ye wish to return to your time.” Her eyes closed and she settled her head against the back of the wooden tub as he caressed a trail over her belly to the sparse curls nestled between her thighs. He’d never seen a woman with so little hair. He sank two fingers inside her wet cavern, his skin prickling as her tight, hot muscles clenched. She lifted, inviting him as he slid out then back in, his thumb rubbing over the little fireball of nerves.

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“Mo Creach, I want ye again.” His cock strained beneath his plaid, eager to replace his fingers within her cunny. “Do we have time?” she panted. “There’s always time.” He picked her up from the tub, dripping wet, and laid her on his bed. She shivered but not from cold if the lusty glaze of her eyes was any indication. He took the linen towel the maids left her, drying every inch of her flesh, stopping to kiss her behind her knees, upon her ass, her belly, the top of her inner thigh, her breasts. He left no inch of her untasted. Drostan tossed the towel aside and quickly divested himself of his plaid and shirt. Briana held out her arms, beckoning him to come closer to her. He would gladly lie in her arms here, enjoying the carnal enticements she offered, rather than go to the loch just yet. He lay beside her, placing a thigh over both of hers. His lips connected with hers in a demanding, carnal kiss. If she was only going to be here for a day, he was going to claim her as his own. She eagerly answered his kiss, her mouth opening to his, little moans of excitement piercing the air from her lips. “Oh Briana, what will I do when ye are gone?” he murmured. But he gave her no time to answer. Instead he thrust his tongue deep, his lips slanted over hers again and again, possessing her completely. He sank against her, exhilarated at her matching his kiss in intensity. His hands trailed over her naked flesh, plucking at her nipples before moving lower to strum the wetness of her cunny. His fingers slicked between her folds, his thumb brushing over her nub. She writhed beneath his ministrations, her own hands making explorations. She skimmed over his chest, his shoulders, down his back and she squeezed his ass, then

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she reached in front, one hand sliding gloriously over his cock and the other cupping his sac. She stroked him, squeezed him gently, knowing just the right pressure. What had started out as him claiming her was quickly turning around. She was taking control of his body and he had little say in it. He didn’t want her to stop and yet he didn’t want her to continue else he came before it was time. But when he tried to take her hand in his, she brushed him aside, eager to pleasure him. The only thing he could do was take back control—and the only way he knew how to do that was to completely lay claim to her body. Drostan begrudgingly pulled away. He gazed into her eyes, glazed with passion, her lips plump and wet from kissing, her cheeks reddened from the scrape of his whiskers on her tender flesh. “What?” she asked, her voice breathy, surreal. He’d asked her what he would do without her, not realizing how much he truly wanted her to stay until those words had issued from his lips. “I cannae wait to be inside ye.” She nodded. “Yes, come inside me, please.” Drostan groaned. She was begging for him to claim her. His cock surged, blood filling him to bursting. He swore he was bigger than he’d ever been before. He ran his hands over her soft skin then rolled her over onto her belly before yanking her hips up into the air. He stared down at the creamy white of her ass, a pink, rose-shaped star in its center. He kissed the center of each ass cheek, listening to the hiss of her breath as his fingers played against her star. He would claim her there eventually. Instead, he stroked inside the wet, velvet of her cunny. She was dripping wet with her need for him. He pulled out, licking her essence from each finger. God’s breath, she was made for him.

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He took the head of his cock in his hand, pressing the tip to the rim of her hole. Briana reared her ass up and pushed backward, encouraging him to enter. She shuddered beneath him yet he refused to enter just yet. He slid his cock between her folds toward her nub, enjoying when she cried out at the contact. “Your cock…feels so good on my clit…” She shivered as he rubbed her again. Clit. He liked that word. Had never heard it before now. “Say it again.” “Rub my clit with your cock,” she panted, her voice high-pitched as she moaned again. Her hips rolled back again and again and she gripped her right breast tightly. Drostan had never been with a woman as responsive as Briana. He loved every bit of it. And so did his cock. Already, more than a drop of pre-cum had slicked over the tip. He stroked her wetness down his cock, rubbed it up toward her cunny, and this time he didn’t just press it against her slit, he thrust deep and hard. “Oh, yes!” Briana tossed her head back, coming up on her knees in a kneeling position. Her right hand still kneaded her breast and her left hand came back to grip Drostan’s thigh hard, her nails digging in slightly. This was going to be one hell of a ride. Drostan bent his lips to her neck, sucking hard. His hand wrapped around the front, stroking over her breasts, plucking a nipple as he pulled out and thrust deep again. Together their bodies moved, both of them kneeling, her ass perfectly curved against his pelvis. Left hand still on her breast, he reached his right around to the apex of her thighs, the crisp hairs of her mons tickling his fingertips. He delved between her folds, rolling her clit. Briana dragged in a breath, her body bucking. Drostan held on tight, driving faster inside her wet warmth. He trailed kisses over her shoulders, her neck, her ear, nipping at the lobe. Briana wrenched her head around, capturing his lips with her own. Their tongues tangled as their bodies danced. Sensation, so exquisite if he wasn’t awake he’d swear he was dreaming, streamed through his limbs. “Briana, I cannae hold on much longer,” her murmured into her kiss. 37

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“You…don’t have…to,” she said through licks at his lips. He could feel the muscles of her cunny clenching around his cock. She was close. Drostan took his hand from her breast and trailed it over her waist and around to the small of her back then up her spine. Gently he pushed her forward so her head was on the bed, her ass still high in the air. Still massaging her clit, he took hold of her hip with his free hand and wasted no time in riding her hard. He pulled out long then thrust deep. Faster and faster. The only sounds in the room were the pounding of their wet flesh and the panting moans coming from their mouths. The muscles of Briana’s cunny went wild, clenching and unclenching, fluttering, squeezing and a rush of fluids soaked his cock at the same time she pierced the air with a moan filled with ecstasy. “Mo, creach!” Drostan pounded into her, his climax intense as it took hold of his body. He thought he was flying. His insides clenched and he exploded inside her. He continued to press against her as they came down from the high that was the pinnacle of lovemaking and then collapsed on the bed, Briana cradled in his arms. Drostan swept her hair from her neck and tenderly kissed where he’d left his mark. He kissed her cheek and then, taking hold of her chin, moved her face so he could kiss her lips. “That was breathtaking,” Briana said. “Aye,” Drostan agreed. He’d never experienced anything like it and would be perfectly happy to do so again and again for the rest of his days.

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Chapter Four As they made their way through the river gate, down the dirt-packed path toward the Loch Lochy, Drostan threaded his fingers through Briana’s. She smiled and squeezed his hand. “I’m glad ye came with me,” he said quietly and Briana got the sense it was hard for him to speak his mind and share how he was feeling with others. “I know what it is like to lose people you are close with. I could have used the support when I went to my parents’ funeral but sadly it was just me and a few of their coworkers, a couple distant cousins.” “Your ways are so different than ours.” “How so?” Briana asked with a tilt of her head. “Here, family means everything. This clan, we are all one large family even though some of us are distantly related by blood and some not at all.” “Sounds wonderful,” Briana said wistfully and she meant it. She’d always wanted to have a big family, to be part of something larger, something meaningful. Was it possible she could live in this time period and find that sort of happiness? She shook her head, she couldn’t possibly. “I’ve never known it any other way but as ye’ve described your time, I would not like it. We work together at Inverlochy and within the Highlands. Allies look after allies and even our enemies might surprise us, teach us where our weaknesses lie.” Briana glanced up in time to see Drostan’s face darken with anger, his lips pressed together. The latter part of what he said must have regarded what happened to his brother. “And yet your enemy has brought us together.”

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Drostan’s face cleared of anger and he stopped walking. He took both her hands in his, his gaze intense as he looked into her eyes. “Aye, ’tis the truth. And…” “What?” Briana said, leaning closer, wanting more than anything to hear him say words that would change her mind, make her want to stay. “’Tis nothing.” He tried to pull away from her but she wouldn’t let him off that easy. “Drostan, I have not been here a full day and yet I find myself wavering on whether I ever want to return to the circle of stones. Give me a reason to stay.” The muscles on either side of his jaw flexed and unflexed, his eyes became a stormy sea and emotion cascaded off him in waves. “I cannae make ye do what ye desire not.” Not what she wanted to hear. Perhaps it would take a bit more massaging to get something meaningful to come from him. She still had several more hours before she really had to make a decision. She prayed that by morning he would be willing to share his feelings, give her motive to remain. “We’ve news, Laird Comyn.” Briana watched as two men dressed similarly to Drostan, weapons attached to what seemed like every available space upon them, marched up. She was disappointed in the interruption and also a bit relieved. She studied in fascination how the tall, broad leader of these people turned to face his men. Outwardly, he appeared in complete control. But she knew the demons he fought on the inside. She wanted to hug him, squeeze him to her and tell him how proud she was of his strength, but she knew he would not be receptive to that. She chuckled a little, covering her mouth and pretending to cough. Drostan gave her an odd look before turning back to his men.

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“What news?” One of the men stepped forward. “We spotted the Campbell on the outskirts of Comyn land. He should arrive within two hours’ time. He’s not alone.” From what Drostan had told her, Briana feared this change in events could not be good. Drostan crossed his arms over his chest. “How many travel with him?” “A dozen retainers and three men tied to horses.” Even with Drostan’s careful ability to hide his emotions, Briana caught the slight twitch of his brows. “Show him to the great hall when he arrives—divested of his weapons.” The men nodded and hurried to the gate to relay the news that Campbell and his men would be allowed entry. Briana touched Drostan’s arm, suddenly struck with how invested she’d become in this clan, in him. “What do you think is going on? Why does he have men tied to the horses?” Drostan turned his blue eyes on hers, worry lines etched around the edges. “It is my hope he comes bearing gifts.” He didn’t expand on what he meant and Briana did not have time to think on it as they arrived at the loch. What appeared to be the entire clan stood by the water’s edge. A gentle mist sprayed from the loch with the wind and the motion of the water. It was peaceful, beautiful. A single, large wooden pyre had been built within a small wooden boat and atop it were two bodies. Dressed and clean, they looked as though they were sleeping. With cloth tied at their necks, there was no evidence a beheading had taken place. They each had a hand over their hearts, and in the middle their hands were entwined.

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A religious man chanted words Briana could not understand. She suspected Gaelic. Beside her, Drostan stiffened. She squeezed his hand, hoping he would lean on her for support. He squeezed back. When the priest ceased speaking, two warriors stepped forward with torches and lit the pyre, while several others pushed the boat into the water, continuing up to their waists until the current took hold of the funeral pyre and carried it into the loch, flames licking the mist where it met the water. The clan stood in silence, watching the boat as it was carried away by the loch. “’Tis done. And now a new chapter begins.” Drostan’s words carried out over the people. They turned to face him and one by one knelt to the ground, their heads bowed. Seeing each person do this, Briana too turned toward Drostan and knelt. “Briana.” She looked up to see his outstretched hand. “Come, ye need not kneel before me. Here with me, ye would have ruled beside me not behind me.” Briana smiled, wanting all the more to be a part of his world. He was everything she’d ever dreamed of in a man. Strong, loyal, saw her as an equal, excellent in bed, intelligent and sweet. She placed her hand in his and let him lift her. Drostan held her hand up in the air, turning her toward the crowd of Comyn people. “The circle of stones has spoken. I have spoken.” “God bless Lady Briana!” someone shouted and then the rest of the clan chimed in. Briana’s heart swelled. She felt welcomed, almost loved. It was everything she’d dreamed of. People to belong to. “Come, let us go to the great hall. Campbell should be here soon.” Briana walked with Drostan back to the keep, feeling as if Campbell had soured a great moment. The man had damn better come bearing gifts!

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***** When they entered the great hall, Drostan was pleased to see that Campbell, sans weapons, stood by the hearth with only a few of the retainers he’d traveled with. Kneeling before Campbell and his guards were three clansmen wearing Campbell colors. Drostan came to stand only a couple feet from the entourage. “Campbell.” “Comyn.” Campbell inclined his head then swept his hands out, indicating the kneeling men. “I received your message regarding your brother. As a show of my respect for ye, I have brought the men responsible. I would have ye ken that ’twas not my order to murder your family. We may have our feuds but I would never sink to the depths of outright murder without cause.” The words sank heavily into Drostan. Yet he was still skeptical. Was it a trap? “What is it ye expect me to do?” Campbell grinned with appreciation. “I see ye think I might have come under false pretenses. I assure ye, ’tis not the case. Ye can punish the louts for their crimes. I have already banished them forever from Campbell lands.” “Truly?” Drostan couldn’t keep the astonishment from his voice. Campbell stepped around the men and came within a couple feet of Drostan. When the Comyn retainers drew their swords, Drostan sliced his hand to the side, a motion meant to have them sheathe their weapons. His men acted at once although the air remained thick with tension. Campbell did not, however, look upset. In fact he seemed all the more happy for it. He eyes bored into Drostan, holding him as if through his gaze he relayed another message, and it was one that Drostan fully understood. They may be enemies but they still needed to safeguard each other from mutual enemies. “’Tis good to see your men honor ye as their laird. Your brother was a good man, a strong leader. We may not have been friends, in fact were enemies, but I never wavered in my respect for him. When a laird is murdered in such a heinous way, his own lovely, 43

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innocent wife slain for no reason other than a couple of maggots chose to take a feud upon themselves, there is nothing I can do, nor ye, except punish them to the furthest extent of our law.” Drostan breathed deeply, realizing the depth of what his visit from Campbell meant. This could forever change the way the two clans acted toward each other. “Then I accept your show of alliance, Campbell.” The man opened his mouth as if to argue against the word alliance but then he closed it, nodded. He held out his hand and Drostan wasted no time clasping his forearm. “I will leave ye then.” Campbell gave him a grave smile. “I trust ye to take care of these butchers in true Highland form.” “Aye, ye have my word.” Drostan watched as Campbell’s gaze was drawn to somewhere behind him. He turned, expecting to see the other laird gazing at Briana, his gorgeous woman, but instead Campbell’s gaze went farther toward the wall. The only female there was Drostan’s younger sister, Sorcha. She stood between his two remaining younger brothers, Cowan and Tomas. Her gaze was directed at Campbell and it was intense, filled with interest. His gut constricted. The Campbell was recently widowed when his wife died in childbirth. Was it possible he might be able to stop their feud with a marriage between Campbell and Sorcha? Could he sentence his sister to a life married to their clan’s enemy? Would they be enemies any longer? Campbell finally broke his stare and looked back at Drostan, his face stricken. The man had no idea how to deal with the sudden attraction to Sorcha, he suspected. “I must away.” “My thanks.” Drostan walked Campbell to the gate with his men, standing there for a long time as the man galloped away on his horse.

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A soft hand glided over his back. “You did a good thing today. That man didn’t seem so much like an enemy to me.” “Aye. We’ve changed history.” Briana stepped in front of him, winding her arms around his middle, pressing her breasts to his chest. His body reacted immediately, hard and wanting. “You have. Things will never be the same again—and I suspect it will be all better.” He smiled, picked her up and twirled her around. In a matter of a day, this woman had changed his life completely. How was it possible that Fate could bring him a woman such as her?

***** A gentle shake upon her shoulders woke Briana from a deep and peaceful sleep. She stretched her arms up high, pointed her toes and swiveled her ankles. She felt fantastic and smiled before opening her eyes. The room was dim, lit only by a single candle and a small fire in the hearth. Drostan stood over her, already dressed, looking quite handsome and impressive. He was so tall, covered in muscles. No man had a right to look as good as he. She felt her body react, thinking about those smooth muscles naked beneath her fingertips. Her nipples pointed into achy tips and her pussy flooded with need. “Good morning,” she said, her voice still sounding sleepy. She beckoned for him to join her in bed. He looked as if he was going to join her but then appeared to change his mind. He stepped back as if trying to distance himself from her. “’Tis just before dawn. We must go to the circle of stones now for the magic to work at sunrise.” Briana tossed the covers aside and stood. She drew herself up to her full height and looked Drostan square in the eyes. “I’m not going.” “What do ye mean?” “I want to stay.” 45

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Drostan’s brows drew together skeptically. “Here? At Inverlochy? For how long?” Briana smiled and reached out to grip his hand in hers. “Forever.” Drostan’s frown could have killed a lesser woman. He yanked from her grip, raked his hands through his hair and walked to the hearth as if dismissing her from his thoughts. “Nae, I willnae let ye give up a life ye already had. There is too much for ye to learn. Our ways are different than yours. Ye willnae make it.” Briana joined him at the hearth, refusing to take offense at his words. She reached up to turn his face toward hers so she could see his eyes. His gaze locked with hers, a storm of emotion. “There will be much for me to learn, yes. But don’t you see? For you, to be with you, I am more than willing to learn. I want to learn. With your help, your guidance, the kindness of this family—Clan Comyn—I will make it. This is what I want, to belong, to be with you here. I was born eight hundred years too late and Fate has given us a chance to be together. “I love you, Drostan, Laird Comyn. Say you want me to stay, that you love me too. Tell me you want me to be your lady for eternity.” There, she’d done it. She’d laid her heart out for him to see and now only waited for his reply. For the span of several heart-palpitating moments, Briana waited for Drostan to answer. But his lips didn’t move. His gaze never left hers, he just stared at her, and when he didn’t say a word, she thought he must be staring right through her. She could take a hint. She wasn’t going to just stand here and embarrass herself further. She’d never let her thoughts for anyone be known and here she’d done so just to have him reject her. With a ragged sigh, she turned away, prepared to leave Inverlochy forever. She could find her way back up the mountain to the clearing with the sacred circle. If she got lost, Fate would surely intervene again and send her home anyway.

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Drostan’s warm grip on her arm stopped her. Eyes widened, she turned around. Drostan pulled her into the warmth of his embrace and her entire body felt as though a weight had lifted. Her heart soared. He just had to say the words. “Briana, the thought of ye staying here, I willnae lie, scares the hell out of me.” He pressed his lips to the top of her head and she heard his inhale of breath. “But what scares me more is never seeing ye again.” Briana squeezed him tightly to her, lifted her face to look him in the eyes. “I feel the same way.” “I have fallen for ye. I dinna ken how. Seems so fast but I have. I want to spend the rest of my days with ye. I want to ken ye more. I want to explore life with ye. I…I love ye.” Tears pricked Briana’s eyes. She’d never heard those words from a man’s lips. Never heard such a genuine declaration. Her heart felt as though it would burst into her throat. She smiled wide, reached up and grabbed his face, pulling him down for an intense kiss. Her lips searched his. She tasted him, explored, thrilling in the excitement channeling through her body at the feel of his lips on hers. He pulled her close, their bodies melding together as one. Every line and ridge pressed hard together. Her nipples hardened, ached for the brush of his fingers, the hotness of his breath. Her pussy tightened, grew damp with need. Every nerve tingled and yearned for his touch, for the ecstasy only he could bring her. “I want to make love to ye as a man does his wife,” he murmured against her lips. Briana nodded as he picked her up, his lips still tasting hers. He carried her to the bed, one arm around her back, the other beneath her knees. She wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. He stood for several moments, holding her as he explored her mouth.

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“We will go slow this time,” he promised. “I want to savor every moment.” “Aye,” she answered in his accent, a happy, satisfied smile on her face. She felt as though she was glowing. Her nerves were firing like mad, her skin tingled. She’d never been so happy. Drostan set her on her feet and slowly divested her of the linen chemise the housekeeper had given her. He kissed her shoulders as he trailed the fabric down the length of her arm. She wriggled her body slightly until the piece fell in a pool at her feet. He lifted his head to look her in the eyes. “Ye are so beautiful, Briana. Do ye ken that?” She stroked his face. “Thank you.” “Inside and out, my love, ye are a thing of beauty.” He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers all too fleetingly as he skimmed her chin, letting his teeth scrape slightly over her sensitive flesh. He trailed hot kisses down her neck, over her collarbone and to her breasts. His mouth was warm velvet as he tongued her nipples, plucking them to life with his fingers before drawing one then the other into his mouth for a lingering taste. Briana sighed as stimulating sensations took hold of her body. She trailed her hands over his hair, over his muscled back until she reached the belt of his plaid. She tucked her fingers inside and skimmed around to the front where he’d tied it in place. She tried to make quick work of her task but his mouth on her breasts, his hands massaging her buttocks, distracted her from her mission. Drostan chuckled. “Do ye need help?” Briana let out a throaty laugh and tugged hard on the knot. “It would appear so.” She looked up in time to see that the blue of his eyes had darkened and he stared at her with open wanting, need and…love. He took hold of his belt, undid the knots and tossed it aside as his plaid fell around his feet. He very nearly ripped his shirt from his body in his need to remove it. They’d

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said they wanted to start slow but their need to touch each other flesh to flesh took hold and the desire for slowness abated. Drostan dropped to his knees, his hands stroking up her legs. He glanced up at her, eyes filled with lust, his face inches from her sex. She liked looking at him in this position. Her thighs clenched and she gritted her teeth at the sudden visions of the previous time he’d tasted her. She gripped his hair, the sensation as the tendrils glided between her fingertips heightened by her desire. “Do ye want me to taste ye, Briana?” She nodded, her pussy already dripping with excitement. “Tell me ye want me to savor your honey. I want to hear the words come from your sexy mouth.” His voice was low as he demanded she issue the words. “Lick me, Drostan. Suck me. Savor me.” “Och, lass, anything ye desire,” he growled as he buried his face between her thighs. He peeled back the lips of her sex with his thumbs as his tongue darted out to curl around and around her clit. Briana had to brace herself against his shoulders as a tidal wave of sensation swept over her. Her knees grew weak, her legs shaky. She dragged in a ragged breath. Soft sighs and moans escaped her lips between gasps. He continued his sensual assault on her clit as he pushed fingers inside her pussy. He drew them out slowly before pushing back inside, the tip of one digit finding her Gspot and massaging it while he continued to lick and suck at her clit. Without warning, an orgasm shredded through her. She shrieked out her pleasure, her thighs clenching as her insides spasmed. “Oh Dros,” she murmured as her body came down slightly from euphoria. “Aye, my lady,” he said against her, sending a tingle along her already tender flesh. “I want you inside me. Make love to me now.”

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“With pleasure.” He stood and captured her for a kiss as he nudged her backward a couple inches to the bed. She sat when her knees touched the mattress. Drostan lay her back, lifting her up and scooting her farther up on the bed, all while pressing his body down on hers. She parted her legs, shuddering when he settled between her thighs, his cock thick, hard. He undulated his hips, pressing back and forth against her pussy with his cock. He was teasing her, tempting her. She moaned, kissing his shoulder, the side of his neck, biting at his earlobe. Drostan growled. Taking hold of her waist, he lifted her slightly, opening her up so his cock head fitted to the rim of her pussy. He pushed inside a little, teasing her further still. She locked her legs around his thighs, lifted her pussy high, squeezing her inner muscles as he slowly sank all the way inside her. “Och, yes,” he groaned with pleasure, his face falling to the crook between her shoulder and neck. He licked at her flesh, nipping and then kissing her. Pressed pelvis to pelvis, they moved slowly, her hips rising and falling to his thrust and draw. They kept their pace slow, relishing the euphoric sensations of their lovemaking. Their lips met in a lazy, drawn-out kiss. She never wanted this to end. Then the realization hit her, it never would. They would be together always. They could make love morning, noon and night and every time in between. With that realization, Briana fully let herself go. She became wild in his arms, writhing beneath him as he plunged inside her again and again. She held tight to him with her legs and arms, tasted his lips, his neck. Arched her back as he lowered his lips to her breasts. As he lay claim to her nipples, worshipping them for endless minutes of pleasure, the pressure inside her womb built until she gasped with the need to fall over the edge.

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“Aye, Briana, come for me, lass.” Drostan drew her lower lip into his mouth before plunging his tongue completely into her, his tongue mocking the motions of his cock. In and out, deep, fast, heart-stoppingly delicious. She could hold out no longer. Her head fell from side to side, her back arched, she locked her legs tighter as she succumbed to her orgasm and tumbled over the edge. “Yes, yes, yes!” she panted. “Mo creach!” Drostan’s body stiffened for a moment before he shuddered and plunged deep inside her. He let out a trembling breath against the side of her neck. “Seems only to get better and better.” She couldn’t agree more. “I love you.” “I love ye too, lass.” They’d met on a fated misty night, surrounded by the sacred stones, creating their own Highland steam as they made magic come alive. And now they’d have the rest of their lives to learn the fascinating parts of each other. Their love would only grow from here. Drostan rolled to the side and tugged Briana close. She nestled into the curve of his body, sated, at peace. “Tomorrow I shall show ye the lands, your lands.” “Sounds wonderful.” Briana fell asleep dreaming of all the things they’d do while he showed her the lands—and they had nothing to do with the Comyn holding.

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About the Author Eliza Knight is the multi-published author of sizzling historical romance and erotic romance. While not reading, writing or researching her latest book, she chases after her three children. In her spare time (if there is such a thing…), she likes daydreaming, wine-tasting, traveling, hiking, staring at the stars, watching movies, shopping, and visiting with family and friends. She lives atop a small mountain, and enjoys cold winter nights when she can curl up in front of a roaring fire with her own knight in shining armor.

Eliza welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

Tell Us What You Think We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at [email protected].

Highland Steam

Also by Eliza Knight Ahoy!: A Pirate’s Bounty Something Wicked This Way Comes anthology Take It Off, Warrior

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Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer ebooks or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

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