Page 34 of Highlander’s Lesser Evil

So scarred. Her heart ached for the boy who had endured the torment that had come from the hands of the man who should have loved him the most. Theo flinched, just a little, as she ran her finger down the most prominent scar on his chest.

“Doonae feel pity for me, Wife,” he murmured.

“These marks are terrible, but they have made you the man that you are today, and I think I quite like that man.” His mouth descended on hers, rough and heavy, and she lost all control of the situation. Instantly, she was on her back, and his weight was bearing down on her.

This was it. The moment she’d wondered about not long after having laid eyes on him. What it might feel like to have a man like this inside of her.

“Gemma,” he murmured as he kissed her neck, “this may hurt in the beginning, and I am sorry for it.”

“I know,” she breathed as she widened her legs and wrapped her arms around him. “I am not afraid.”

“Nay. Ye are frightened of nothing.” Nudging at her entrance, he whispered her name one more time and eased into her. There was an uncomfortable sensation of fullness, and she screwed her eyes shut. Then, with a hiss, he pushed, breached into her depths, and groaned even as she gasped.

“Theo!”

“Aye, lass. I know. Just be still,” he said huskily.

Be still? She tried to do as he asked, but with every wiggle of her body, delicious sparks of pleasure sprouted through her, and she couldn’t help but try to explore those sensations.

“Gemma,” he growled. “What are ye doing?”

“I need to feel you. Please.” The plea was all but ripped from her throat as she moved her hips again, and Theo hissed and moved, withdrawing and plunging back into her.

“Oh, yes!”

“I wanted to go easy, but I doonae think I can. Oh, Gemma, ye were made for me, lass.”

In that, she most certainly had to agree. Running her hands up and down his back, she dug her nails in as the pleasure intensified. Now that she knew what was happening to her body, she was not afraid, but the intimacy was still there, the two of them sharing this moment that no one could take from them.

Bowing her back, she felt the break in the storm inside her as he cascaded down, wreaking her body from her head to the tips of her toes. “Aye, Gemma, give me yer pleasure,” Theo hissed as he pounded her through her pleasure, a manic look in his eyes.

And when she thought it was over, another hit her—a slow quake—and this time, Theo rode with her, holding her so tightly that she could barely breathe. Then, when the tears filled her eyes, she shut them so he couldn’t see just how he affected her.

He rolled over and carried her to his side so he wouldn’t crush her. They laid like that, locked in each other’s arms, letting the silence lull them to sleep.

14

The next morning, Theo did an early walk-through of the village, stopping at the loch to stare at the water and see what Graeme could see. When someone walked up next to him, he realized that it wasn’t the loch that had captivated Graeme but the memories.

Memories Theo didn’t have.

“Ye are leaving,” Harris grunted.

“Not me.”

The older man’s eyes widened and then narrowed in anger. “Ye are taking our Gemma from us.”

“As my wife. She wasnae long for the loch,” Theo reminded him.

“Aye, but I didnae think ye would send her home alone, at the mercy of the rest of the MacDougals.”

Theo looked down at him and studied him coldly. “Then perhaps you should have thought of that before you forged the letter from MacSeaver in the hopes that she would go running into my arms for help.”

With a sigh, Harris leaned against his cane and turned to take in the same view as Theo. “We have never known peace. As a lad, I was raised to be a farmer but trained as a warrior. Poorly trained, and that is why there arenae many of us left. Fletcher’s father was a horrid man, but he protected his profits. And when Fletcher was younger, we had hope that he would be a better laird, and he was for a time. Then he lost his first wife, and I doonae think he has ever been the same.”

“That is supposed to excuse what ye did to Gemma?”

“Not to her. For her. When she arrived, this poor shell-shocked lady from England, we were all certain that we would starve to death. MacSeaver was taking all of our food, and his men had taken to raiding our homes to find what we had tried to squirrel away for ourselves. She saved us. Her tapestries saved us. She paid off the merchants not to say a word and paid a pittance to MacSeaver while using the rest of the coin to feed and clothe us. We were able to build an underground storeroom to hide the food that she purchased, and the guards were never the wiser.