Lost in the Highlands, Volume 3, page 33
♦
It was the wee hours of the morning before Gavin moved from the chair in front of the fire. Standing, he placed his hands on the back of the chair until he felt he could stand of his own accord, wondering why he still felt so poorly. And in spite of what he told Muir about the lass, he couldn’t help wondering where she was.
Not that he truly cared, he told himself.
Shuffling forward towards the door of his room, it took some time getting there, as all things seemed to take lately. By the time he made it to his destination, he was in a temper, not at anyone in particular but more at his own helplessness.
Taking a breath, he wondered if he should just go back to his bed and have a lie down when a strange noise cut through his musings, coming from right outside his door. Not having a weapon, he was warier than he normally would have been, and pressed his back against the wall right inside the door, but when he heard no other noise after a moment or two, he decided he must be hearing things.
Leaning around the corner, he let his eyes adjust to the dimness in the hall, but regardless of what he thought he heard earlier, no one seemed to be about. His eyes slid down the shadows of the hall to the floor, and that is when he spotted the lass. She was leaning back against the wall, not a foot from him.
The noise he heard was coming from her and in spite of himself, not to mention, his poor mood, he felt his lips lifting into a small but bemused smile.
Why the lass was outside his door on the floor was not something he cared to ponder. Neither was the strange warmness he felt at seeing her, thusly settling inside his innards. In spite of this, he turned away from her and the door, making his way back to his bed. At the last minute, he grabbed one of the furs off the top and shuffled back to his door.
Careful, not to wake her, he laid the blanket over the top of her legs and around her side.
Satisfied she would not catch a chill, he shuffled back to his bed and climbed inside. It took a long time for him to find sleep but in the end, he too succumbed and drifted off into a dreamless slumber.
CHAPTER 38
LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND
The Past
The following morning, as reddish hues slanted across the green rolling hillsides, dappling down through trees, over the crystal waters of the loch, the sun also filtered into the room where Gavin lay awake. It wasn’t the sun that woke him though. The noise that woke him was a familiar sound of his men, what was left of them, having a fit about something in the courtyard below his window. Bits and pieces of their quarrel filtered in his chamber but was too disjointed to make out what was actually being said.
With a slowness of an old feeble man, Gavin rose from bed and steadied his hands on the table at the side. Using the table as a brace until his legs cooperated, he moved along the edge until he was able to grab hold of the windowsill.
Moving the tapestry aside, he looked down.
Muir, Graham and Alec were in a semi-circle with their swords unsheathed, pointing them at a woman. His heart leapt at the sight, for it was not just any woman, but the very one who had been plaguing his dreams.
“Bloody Hell!"
Turning from the window, he made his way across the room as quickly as he could. Stepping out into the hall, he spotted the other lass. The one who was supposed to be his betrothed, still wrapped in the fur he had given her the previous night…asleep.
Not knowing why, he did what he did, he purposefully stepped past her, and then with a shove of his booted foot, jostled her sleeping form until she came awake.
Rather unpleasantly, Paige came awake and looked up at Gavin, who was standing above her with an unreadable look on his face.
“Do you need help?” she asked, sitting up, guessing that was why he woke her so rudely.
“Nay, I do no need any help from ye, lass.”
“Okay,” she said, not sure what his problem was. But she could tell by the look on his face he was none too happy, which, of course, was nothing new these days.
“Is there any particular reason why you woke me?”
Gavin’s brows creased as he took in her dishevelled appearance. And even though her hair was a mess, and dark circles under her eyes, he felt a pull to her. One that he did not welcome one bit. “Aye,” he said. “It is time ye get off the floor and get ta yer chores.”
Paige blinked a few times, thinking at first, he was surely kidding. But when his countenance did not falter, nor did he smile, she knew he was not kidding at all.
He was dead serious.
Trying not to let her temper get the better of her, Paige asked with a hefty amount of sarcasm, “What exactly would you like me to do, Master?”
Gavin pressed his shoulders back, completely oblivious that in truth he was poking the proverbial bear, and that bear was getting quite angry. “Ye can start in my room,” he said, but then added, “Prepare it well, for I will have company later.”
Her eyes boggled at that. And at first, Paige had a hard time forming her next words. “Who, pray tell, might that be?”
“Ye need no worry about that, lass.”
“Let me get this straight,” she began, balling her hands into fists. “You woke me up, to get your room ready so you may entertain another woman in there?”
“Aye,” he said, smiling now. “That is what I said.” He eyed her for a moment more, waiting for her to move. When she didn’t move, he added, “Come lass, time is a wasting.” He held out his hand.
Paige grabbed his hand and let him help her to her feet. Once she was standing, she was very aware of how close they were to each other and the familiar pull that she always had to him kicked into overdrive. And even though she was mad as hell at him, Paige couldn’t stop her betraying body from leaning just a bit closer.
Gavin had no idea why he was dawdling in the hall with the lass when the true woman he loved was outside, surely waiting on bated breath for him to come rescue her from his men. But instead of rushing to do just that, he found suddenly that he was unable to move just yet.
Regardless of how Gavin was feeling, (not that she knew he was feeling anything at all) Paige suddenly felt much better about her little indiscretion with the dark Gavin she had encountered the previous night.
“Laird,” Callum said, breathing heavy from his trip up the stairs. “There is someone here…” he trailed off, cutting his eyes to the lass.
“I know,” Gavin said.
“Och, how do ye know?”
“Makes no never mind, how,” Gavin said, clearly not in the mood to answer his questions. “I am on my way ta see her now.”
Callum got an uncomfortable look on his face and avoided direct eye contact with Paige.
“I will tell her ye will be down directly.”
Before Gavin could respond, Callum took off back the way he had just come.
“Come, lass.”
Gavin took her arm and turned Paige towards his bedroom door.
“Once ye are finished in here, go ta the cook room and try ta make something fer us ta eat, aye?”
Paige jerked her arm from his grasp and stormed off into his room, slamming the door behind her.
Gavin stood there a moment more at odds with himself and did not know why. In the end, he squashed down his apprehension and went downstairs to see the lass of his dreams… or so he thought.
CHAPTER 39
LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND
The Past
Much later, after Paige had a mini temper tantrum, which consisted of me stomping all over Gavin’s bed, she opened the door to his room and picked the fur off the floor she was sleeping on.
Instead of putting it back in his room, she walked to the end of the hall, and folded it tightly up, along with one of the pillows she had taken from his bed, along with his dagger. She set the blanket and pillow down in the dark shadows near a door that she had yet to be able to open.
Once she was finished hiding her stash, Paige lifted her skirt, ripped a piece of the underskirt off, and wrapped it around the pointed edge of the dagger; then placed it in her boot.
“That should do it.” Paige took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and walked towards what would likely be her doom or at the very least an end to what she envisioned as her own happily ever after with Gavin.
♦
By the time Paige made my way downstairs, she had thoroughly convinced herself, that no matter what happened, she was going to fight for her man. The crux of the problem however was that he didn’t know he was her man, but he would, or so she told herself.
That was the plan, however, once she made it to the bottom of the stairs and both of her feet hit the floor in the hall, all of her wishful thinking flew right out the door.
Gavin was seated at the head of the table, with the unknown woman at his side, her back was facing Paige, and they were holding hands.
The sight made Paige want to simultaneously vomit and rip the woman’s hair from her head, and maybe clobber her in the head with a pan a time or two as well.
The rest of the men were in the room as well and as soon as Callum saw her, and before he cast his gaze in the other direction as was his habit of late, he gave Paige a sympathetic look.
That simple gesture was nearly her undoing and instantly made everything so much worse. The last thing she wanted or needed was for the men to feel sorry for her.
Graham and Alec were talking quietly amongst themselves but when they spotted Paige standing at the bottom of the stairs the looks on their faces reminded her of a deer caught in the headlights. Surprise and something akin to wariness registered on both of their handsome faces.
Alec, always being what she referred to as Switzerland, gave her a small wave…well, not quite a wave but rather a wiggling of his fingers. And then he leaned over, said something to Graham, and then they both turned and walked right out the door.
During this blatant desertion, Gavin eyes never wavered from the woman at his side and try as she might, Paige never recalled him giving her his undivided attention in such a way. Jerk!
Throwing back his head, Gavin laughed at something the woman said. It was a deep hearty sound.
“You have got to be kidding me.” Paige cringed and balled her hands into fists. She had half a mind to go over to Gavin (who she might add hadn’t laughed at all since they had been back) and punch him right in his beautiful face. But what would that accomplish? Besides making her feel immeasurably better, she thought.
While Gavin made a spectacle of himself, Paige kept standing there like an idiot. Not because she wanted to, but because she had no other place to go.
“Lass,” Muir called, once he spotted her. “Come over and have a seat.” He patted the chair at his side.
Right then Gavin turned and looked at Paige, his look was something she would remember for days to come, not sad, nor happy, simply indifferent.
The woman turned as well, and what Paige saw in her eyes nearly made her knees buckle. Her ice blue eyes, although, quite a lovely, were filled with so much venom, she took a deliberate step back and butted up against the stair.
Gavin leaned over and whispered something to the woman, then he shoved back from the table and stood.
Paige wasn’t sure whether she should remain where she was, or walk over to Muir, or, just head on back up the stairs, but before she could decide what to do, Gavin walked right towards her.
Immediately, she noticed he seemed to have regained his strength because he wasn’t shuffling like an old man any longer.
He stopped about a foot away. “Lass,” he said, speaking quietly. “Have ye finished with my room?”
Paige had to bite her tongue to keep from saying something smart. “Yes, my laird,” she dripped as she gave him a small curtsy.
Seemingly pleased by her display of respect, Gavin shoved his shoulders back a bit more and lifted his chin a notch.
“Good. Now I think ye should see about our super. We are very hungry,” he added.
“Of course, my laird,” she gritted out. Turning to leave, Gavin grabbed hold of her arm.
Paige spun around and gave him a cold look.
Gavin immediately dropped his hand back to his side. “How long do ye think it will take?”
“I have no idea.” She turned to leave again.
“Lass,” he said.
Paige stopped and turned back around. “What?”
“Thank ye fer cleaning my room.”
“Okay.” She didn’t really know what else to say since by all accounts she didn’t clean squat. In fact, she only threw the covers back on the bed to make it look decent after she stomped over his sheets and pillows a few times with her dirty shoes.
Out of the corner of her eye, Paige caught the whore at the table giving her a nasty look. Still fuming from Gavin’s moronic behaviour, she boldly stared back at the woman until she finally turned away.
“Is that all?”
“Aye. That is all.” His brows creased and his mouth moved as if he was going to say something more.
“Good,” she cut him off. Grabbing her skirts in her hand, Paige tore down the hall as fast as her feet would carry her to the cook room.
♦
The late afternoon sun ducked behind a cloud as Clarion made his way around the opposite side of the castle, towards the back. There was a door there as well, but as he tried to open it, he found it was locked. He was going to back track to the front again, but pulled up short when he saw two of the Highlanders that had taken him the previous night, come out the front door, heading towards the stables.
Knowing they would find out sooner, rather than later, that he was missing, he circled back and waited for night to come. Then he would make his next move.
CHAPTER 40
LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND
The Past
Jillian rolled her eyes as Gavin felt the need to touch her hand again. She was getting a little sick of this petting business and now remembered why she preferred Broderick.
When at first, she had seen Broderick she decided he wasn’t much to look at, not like Gavin. Gavin had a pretty face, almost too pretty to be a man. And he was not as large as Broderick either, nor as attentive. Sure, he came around to seeing things her way after a spell or two, or was it three? She fingered her lip, tracing the bottom, trying to remember. Yes, it was three. Three different spells she tried to get him to fall in love with her and on the last one, she must have gone overboard because he became disgustingly clingy. And not just a little either, which she could have dealt with. But it was terrible. He followed her around like a love-struck puppy dog, and when they made love, (if you could call it that) because she was certainly not in love with him, he was so careful, so gentle as to not hurt her, she wanted to scream. Not with passion mind you, but rather with irritation.
All she had to do was let out one little moan, (a fake one) and Gavin either froze up for fear of hurting her, or he lost what little restraint he had and after one or two delicate thrusts he would lose control. Panting he would roll off her body and after asking her if it was good for her, (where she lied and said yes, of course) he would go to sleep. Not just a soundless sleep—he would snore so loud she couldn’t catch a wink for herself.
For a while, though, after she faked her death, she did fancy one or two times that she may have been a bit hasty in getting away from him and his tender ministrations to her person.
Broderick on the other hand, he liked it rough. When he took her, there was no mistaking whether he was enjoying himself. He was heavy handed too, and would not think twice about knocking her around a bit when she wasn’t acting precisely the way he wanted her too.
Unlike Gavin, it took a bit more to get Broderick going. He made her suckle him, (down there) and would wrap her hair around his hand, moving her head until she was nearly gagging on his length. Then he would flip her over and thrust inside her body before she was even ready for him. Hard and fast is how Broderick liked it, and once he got going there was no stopping him and there was no asking if he was hurting her.
At first, she even believed she may have even enjoyed it a bit, the roughness and the urgency, fumbling hands, moans, groans, gasps and explosive orgasms. Even the shaking of his body when she flattened her hand against his chest as she straddled him. She rode him, hard and fast, just like he wanted and at the time, she wanted that too. She loved the control she had over such a large man, the way he would bend to her will, just for a bit of attention from her.
Even during all this, she had to acknowledge the first few times she was with Broderick she thought she may even be in love with him. He was so nervous, you see, but once he had her, things changed rather quickly.
And instead of her being in control, he turned the tables and was the one who held all cards. If she told him she was not in the mood, (something she did quite often with Gavin and he readily acquiesced) Broderick, however, did not even care. He would laugh and tell her to get on her knees and that if she was lucky he would let her suckle him before he took her.
Needless to say, she acted out and received a slap or two instead because the last thing she wanted was to be choked to death by him as he shoved his length down her throat. When he did this, his musky scent filled her nostrils and the wiry hair surrounding his shaft chaffed her face.
It was during these times that she thought about Gavin and the tenderness he had shown her and this was also when she realized that Gavin was not weak at all, but actually, quite the opposite. He was a strong man, for he was more worried about her pleasure than he was his own.
After one of the more brutal times, she told Broderick she was going to leave him; that he did not pleasure her as he once had.
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