Page 46 of Highlander’s False Identity

“Are ye sure ye want me to go faster?” he asked, caressing her face as they held each other tight. “It might be a wee bit too much for ye?”

“Dinnae ye dare stop now, Beathan Craig!” she panted, her cheeks turning pink as he worked deeper and harder inside her.

Beathan watched, captivated at the beauty of this girl as he pulled in and out of her body; she was tender, yielding, sweet; and just too much for him to resist. The ache he felt for her could not be sated and refused to go away. Every taut muscle and sore limb was instantly made whole by her touch.

He lost himself in her, driving forward in a primal rhythm that recognized only his growing need. Then he exploded, thrown up to heaven, as he spilled his seed inside her yielding body. For several minutes, the pair lay there, entwined, their eyes locked, in thrall to total bliss.

“Och, Edme, I, think I love ye,” he whispered as they lay basking in the fading light of the room.

“Ye dinnae have to say that, Beathan,” Edme started, although her voice suggested otherwise.

“Nae, but it’s true, Edme. It’s true,” he told her as she lay there in his arms. “An’ one other thing, I’m nae gonna let Dughall raise a finger to ye again!”

There was a pause as Edme appeared to take this in; then she nodded slightly and said, “I ken that, Beathan, that’s why I love ye too!”

* * *

The birds were singing when Edme opened her eyes. This time, as she looked around for Beathan, she discovered he was already up and dressed.

“Here, drink this, lass,” said Beathan, proffering towards her a cup of lethal smelling Athol brose.

The whiskey packed a heady punch that almost knocked Edme out.

“Ugh,” she said, still blinking from the strong sunlight. “Nae so soon! Leave it at the side!” she muttered. Edme wanted nothing better than to go back to sleep. But Beathan shook her firmly.

“Nae, lass, ye need to get up right now…,” he said urgently.

On hearing his tone, Edme sat bolt upright. It took a few moments for her to remember where she was and what had happened. When she did, she looked alarmed. Her clothes were strewn to the four corners of the room, and quickly, she set about retrieving them.

All the while, Beathan’s gaze was trained firmly on her.

“An’ sup up lassie, yer gonna need yer strength! The English are on their way!”

“What!” Edme sprang out of bed and continued dressing as quickly as she could, but she seemed to be all thumbs and was having trouble lacing her stays.

Beathan appeared behind her to assist, but he fared not much better.

Eventually, he left her to it, going to check on his armory, which he had assembled at her feet.

“Och,” said Edme, trying not to let on to him just how rattled she felt. Eventually, she managed to get all her clothes on. “How far away are they?” she asked him, gingerly.

Beathan glanced out of the narrow window. “I can see them in the distance—dinnae fash. Help will be here soon, I promise!” he said. “Robbie, an’ his men are out there now!”

But when she looked into his eyes, she could see how unsure he was. Trying her hardest to keep it together, Edme reached around for her sgian dubh. There it was, reassuringly, by her side, its well-rounded handle almost melding into her thumb and forefinger.

At the sight of her trusty weapon, Edme relaxed a little, but only a little. Sensing her unease, Beathan repeated his offer.

“Listen, it’s nae too late for ye to escape in the tunnels,” he began, but Edme dismissed him with a twitch of her hand.

“Och, ye an’ yer tunnels!” she huffed. She was making light of it, waving away his offer of salvation.

Edme moved closer to him, her hand expectantly on her dagger.

“I’ll nae leave ye, Beathan, never, especially when I’m the one that started this,” she added firmly, her chin jutting out in the stark morning air. Then, before he could argue any more, she took him by the hand.

“Och, come on. We need to get out there an’ see what’s what!”

In an instant, Edme was out of the room and down the hall. Bewildered, Beathan followed after her, pausing only briefly to pick up his slingshot and arrows in a small sack by the door.