Page 25 of Highlander’s False Identity

“That’s because it is,” Edme announced, and Beathan could not help but notice how beautiful she looked, a sudden shaft of sunlight illuminating her honeyed blonde locks. The bright stream of light seemed to ignite sparks in her golden hair and set her entire face aglow.

“What do ye mean?” Beathan asked, not following, too entranced by the curve of her bosom, peeking out from the dark-colored léine and jacket she was wearing. Men’s clothing seemed to suit Edme, and Beathan felt something stirring in his loins.

“I mean, this is a drawing of me as a bairn. It was made a few years ago… by Dughall,” Edme stopped, her hands shaking as she said this. “Cannae ye see, he has given it to the English to hunt me down an’ bring me in! God knows what else they will do, but an army will be here soon, for sure. Och, Beathan! What have I done?”

Edme collapsed, in panic, clinging onto Beathan’s shirt tails, crying.

“Done? Ye have nae done anything lass,” Beathan said, trying to prop her upright, stroking her shoulders and calming her heaving sobs. “Let’s get ye sitting down…”

He took the sobbing girl over to the horses, which whinnied slightly at their approach. Inside his haversack, he found a blanket, which he wrapped around her shoulders, then he placed her on top of his woolen jacket to cushion her seat.

“Nae, Beathan, ye nae understand. I wasted time out here, trying to survive alone in the wilderness when what I should have done was to come to the Craig clan an’ try an’ warn ye of the plot!” Edme had stopped crying but looked distraught. “Instead, I went about trying to rob folk, thinking I could survive on my own, when the truth is, I should have helped ye…,” her blue eyes beseeched him painfully. “I’m so sorry!”

Then her eyes fastened on the Craig clan dagger, still clasped in her tense hands.

“Here,” she said softly, awarding him the dagger. “This is yours. I’m sorry I took it.”

The way she handed him back the sword was so sweet that it almost made Beathan crumble.

“Nae,” he said. “I’m nae sorry ye took it – I’m glad!”

Edme turned to look at him in surprise.

“Ye did a good job of defending us wi’ it.” Beathan brought her face closer to his, caressing her hair with his hand.

“So here,” he said, handing her the jewel-encrusted sword back again. “Ye take it. It’s yers now!”

“Beathan, I couldn’t, I…,” Edme struggled to get the words out past her lips. It was proving difficult, partly because of her emotional state, and partly because Beathan had locked his lips onto hers.

Chapter Nine

He was kissing her, encompassing her with his manly aura. Breathing him in, Edme held onto Beathan’s sturdy shoulders as if falling into a dream.

So much had happened in such a short time, and her heart had barely stopped vibrating. Edme was overwhelmed by the power of his kiss. The strength of his passion had taken her unawares and almost knocked her off her feet. Edme didn’t know if she was coming or going.

“Beathan, I…” she breathed, coming up for air as his masculine scent flowed over her.

“Och, dinnae talk,” Beathan urged, gripping onto her tightly and nudging her gently with his lips.

It was more than just a kiss; it was a bolt of electricity from above, charging around her veins and overloading her. Anymore, and Edme thought her head would explode.

“None of this was any of yer fault, none of it,” Beathan murmured, smoothing down the back of her hair, which had blown free in the springtime breeze.

“Och, I dinnae ken,” Edme started, but Beathan did not give her the chance to finish. Instead, he was moving in to continue the kiss, his soft lips locking onto hers, and his inquisitive tongue probing her mouth.

His face was full of passion, but there were grazes on his cheeks from the tussle with the English. For a moment, Edme thought of tending to his wounds, but then the heat of the moment completely overtook her.

She took his face in her hands. He felt so smooth. Something inside her ached as he snuggled up close. She liked the look of him: emboldened, intense, and slightly ruffled from fighting.

Up and down his body, he was scratched and bleeding, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was too focused on kissing her.

And how he was focused! This was something she had never known before. Not only was this beautiful boy kissing her, but the way he was looking at her gave her an endless rush.

Edme didn’t have a lot of experience with men and had never been kissed, but she was sure this was something extraordinary. She had listened to the tales her friends told of amorous meetings with their sweethearts, but nothing they said came remotely close to what it was like with Beathan.

The lad held onto her, caressing the nape of her neck and wrapping his fingers through her hair and tugging softly. Feeling the pull on her scalp sent a thrill through her. Edme trembled under his ministrations, all her senses alert. As a shiver ran through her, she felt revitalized, energized, alive.

It had been only a few minutes since she had been frightened by the English soldiers, feeling overpowered and exhausted. But now her body was recharged, alert, and ready for anything.