Dawn Marie Hamilton -- Writer of Romance

Scottish Highlands, 1509
 

Laurie opened her eyes a crack. Her head pounded, her vision blurred.

This wasn't good. Those couldn't be two big, leather-clad feet inches from her face.

She opened her eyes wider, raised her gaze higher.

Those feet -- the ones that couldn't be there -- was it possible they attached to two large, muscular calves wrapped in soft napped animal skins?

Her gaze moved higher still. Bare knees. Saffron linen and plaid wool.

Looking even further up, she took in all of the man who towered over her.

His piercing blue eyes bored into her. She gasped. This was her man, the one from her heated dreams and visions. The man she didn't really believe existed.

This man was the man who made her insides flip-flop.

Unsure of what had just occurred to her, she stared at him in confusion. An attempt to stand left her slightly dizzy.

Unsteady on her feet, she swayed.

Patrick reached out to help her, but as he grabbed hold of her arms, he felt a jolt of power course through his body.

Shocked, he quickly released her.

Again, she swayed.

He grabbed her once more, this time holding on, ignoring the unnerving surge of energy; he pulled her tight against his chest. Then without conscious thought, he bent his head to hers, brushed her lips with his, and kissed her deep, his tongue delving into her mouth, coaxing a like response.

Laurie's first instinct was to fight him. Her body went rigid, her hands fisted against his hard chest, where they were entrapped within his embrace. She forced her hands open and pressed her palms against him, a vain attempt to push him away.

The current flowing between them was overpoweringly seductive. She clasped his shirt with shaky hands and hesitantly kissed him back.

Patrick growled deep in his throat as passion coursed through his body. Their kiss, potent and deep, an intoxicating aphrodisiac, became more and more heated as the energy charge sizzled. What started as an unconscious display of domination became a much more meaningful symbol of possession. His forceful kiss demanded surrender.

She melted against him and he savored his victory as her response became as impassioned as his.

His hands kneaded and caressed her backside. He pulled his lips away from hers for only a moment as he took a firm hold of her buttocks and lifted her off the ground, the movement releasing her arms from their prison.

Repositioning her against his length, he pulled her tight against his chest, molding her to the contours of his body. His need was insatiable. He felt her breasts tighten into hard buds through the linen of his tunic. His senses reeled as he took her mouth again, relishing her unique flavor, inhaling her intoxicating scent.

Laurie wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, clinging to him, her anchor in the storm of unfamiliar sensation. Intense pleasure vibrated along her body. She purred when they both quivered.

The proof of his arousal was a hard pressure intimately pressed against her at the juncture of her thighs. She lost all rational thought as he rubbed his body against her, the friction of his movements causing a gasp to escape her lips as the tantalizing pleasure pulsed through her.

Patrick took her sweet breath into his mouth and released a groan of his own.

He stiffened and his eyes popped open when his cousin stepped out of the trees and cleared his throat.

The lass came back to herself and tried once again to push Patrick away. He reluctantly ended the kiss, taking a step back, but still held her steady. For a moment, they stared into each other's eyes. Hers filled with confusion, fear and desire mingling with the passionate heat still flowing between them.

Again, Stephen cleared his throat.

The powerful surge of energy dissolved. Patrick quickly released the lass and took another step back, shaken, although he refused to show it. Somehow, in the deepest, elemental part of his soul he knew that she belonged to him. He'd instinctively branded her with his bold kiss, staking his claim.

Glaring at his cousin, he said, "You followed me. Why?"

Stephen seemed wary. "To guard your back, you dolt. Elspeth sent me after you. She's worried. You've been acting odd." He smirked. "I see 'twas a lass that had you a wandering. Are you bewitched then?"

Patrick uttered a loud, "Hummph!" and glanced at the delectable lass.

Slower to recover, Laurie nervously raised a trembling hand to her swollen lips, her body still thrumming, taut with desire not sated. Staring at the bold man with a bemused expression, she saw him as if through a haze, shock taking its toll. She couldn't believe the look of masculine power and desire she'd seen in his eyes.

Still grinning, the new comer said, "Patrick, the lass is a wee bit befuddled from your ardor. Is this your vanishing lass then? The one from your visions?"

Heat burned her cheeks. She looked down at the ground, wishing she could disappear, unable to cope with the knowing looks of the two men.

Uncertain, standing very still, she tried to hide her fear, panic a breath away.

Should I run?

She looked from one man to the other, not knowing what to think, reeling still from the intensity of that kiss and what had happened just before.

Patrick ran an unsteady hand through his hair. With a great deal of effort, he turned to the lass forcing a blank expression to his face. He studied her, raking over her with his eyes. Starting with the glorious mass of golden curls pinned atop her head, moving downward, lingering for a moment on her bright, blue eyes filled with fear and perhaps a spark of defiance. Then slowly moving his gaze further downward until it reached her toes, he took in everything, missing nothing. Including the plaide wrapped around her shoulders clasped by a familiar brooch, the fabric clutched in a death grip by a delicate hand with beautiful, elegant fingers, each nail the color of oyster shells. Unusual. Enticing. He clearly imagined the sensual sensation of those fingernails grazing across his chest and other more sensitive skin.

His nostrils flared. He felt the hard thud of his heart as his body tightened again with desire. He fought for control.

"A bheil Gaidhlig agad?"

The lass stared back at him with a blank look, opened her mouth as if to speak, and then shut it again.

Sassenach. Switching to the language of the lowlands he asked, "Who are you, lass? What are you doing in this wood alone? Where is your escort?"

Before she could answer, Stephen had pulled a knife from his boot. His eyes frantically searched the surrounding area. Frowning, he asked, "Could this be a trap? An ambush?"

Patrick glanced at his cousin and then pinned his gaze on the lass. He watched as her eyes widened at the sight of the sharp-edged blade. Pushing her behind him, he responded to Stephen in Gaelic. "Munn believes the lass is nae a threat."

Stephen looked off into the wood.

Taking her first good look around her, Laurie noticed she was no longer in the woods near her cottage and garden. Instead, she stood at the edge of a dark forest near what appeared to be a one-room timber hut with a dilapidated thatch roof. "This isn't Kansas," she whispered under her breath. Panic took a firm hold.

Having heard her, the man, whose name must be Patrick, yanked her in front of him and snapped, "What is Kansas? Speak, lass. I command it."

His aggressive attitude provoked her ire, something snapped inside of her and she forgot her fear. She pulled away and glared at him. Then ignoring him, she turned to the other man. "Excuse me, sir, my name is Laurie Bernard. I'm confused, tired and very frightened. I don't know where I am or how I got here. I just want to return home. Can you help me? Please!"

Patrick clenched and unclenched his fists, clenching them again. He had the strongest urge to smash one of his fists into Stephen's face.

He didn't like feeling ignored, especially not by his bonnie lass. His? What was he thinking? His? He didn't understand the sudden possessiveness he felt toward her or any of the other emotions she awakened. However, he had claimed her with his impetuous kiss, and she now belonged to him.

Laurie saw his grim expression as his gaze caught that of his friend's. The men exchanged a long, dark look.

Abruptly, the friend turned on his heel and walked down the path through the wood leaving Laurie there alone to face the arrogant man who'd kissed her.

He stepped toward her, a menacing look on his face. She stepped back, suppressing the urge to run. Biting her bottom lip, she waited. They silently contemplated each other for several minutes.

Patrick didn't like his reaction to the lass. He understood lust and the power of dominance, but not the possessiveness or protectiveness she provoked. The last thing he wanted was this kind of complication in his life.

But it was too late. He'd already claimed her.

With a mocking smile and a wave of his arm, he said, "This way, Mistress Laurie, we go to the hall where we'll unravel this puzzle. And I assure you, we will." He took her by the elbow to guide her to the woodland path.

She dug her heels in, pulling back. "Wait. I don't even know who you are."

Bowing, he said, "Patrick MacLachlan of Clan MacLachlan, your humble servant."

She snorted. "I don't believe there's a humble bone in your body and you are definitely no one's servant."

"Quite true. And you are nae an innocent" He couldn't resist taunting her. "Do you throw yourself at every man you meet along the way?"

The lass opened her mouth to speak, but he held up his hand to stop her retort. Working to suppress his growing irritation, he said, "There is something you need to understand, lass. I have claimed you as my own, with my cousin Stephen as my witness. I would choose to believe you are an innocent and not a wanton. You belong to me now. If I ever find you with another man you'll not like the consequences."

She sputtered. "How dare you! You don't own me."

"You became mine when you returned my kiss, lass." He again took a firm hold on her elbow. "Come this way."

She jumped back, out of his grasp.

"Why did you kiss me?"

Laurie watched as Patrick's full lips slowly curved at the corners, then widened into a devilish grin. Her mind turned to mush.

"I wanted to." He chuckled.

"Do you always do whatever you want?"

"Aye. Now come."

"No!" Laurie's anger flared as she met the challenge in his eyes.

Patrick looked up at the darkening sky. Clouds were moving in fast, dimming the brightness of the moon. "Suit yourself, lass."

Turning, he strode off into the wood.

Laurie glanced around her. Left here alone was definitely not what she wanted. "No. Wait! I'm coming."

* * *

Caitrina stood at the edge of the wood, cloaked in the glamour of invisibility. She'd observed the mortals' reactions with keen interest. Seeing the sparks between the couple ignite, she was satisfied that her plans progressed as she intended.

Sensing Munn nearby, she allowed her image to emerge and take shape, spinning around to face him. She needed to get him out of the way before he endangered the completion of her tasks.

The wee man warily approached, his expression giving away his fear. "What mischief are you about? You dunnae belong here darkening MacLachlan lands. What have you done with our chief and your lady?"

"You'll nae interfere." With a wave of her arms, she cast him far away.