Chapter 8

Eight

Holly

" F uck, woman, you're going to be the death of me," Malcolm whispered.

He gathered me in his arms and pressed me against the wall as his hands at my hips gathered up the folds of my dress.

When my dress was bunched around my waist, Malcolm hoisted me up, holding my ass, and I wrapped my legs around his waist.

"You're flexible." He chuckled against my lips.

"This is nothing," I whispered back.

No matter how much I tried to pretend otherwise, it was heaven to be back in Malcolm's arms. I'd missed this though it was only hours ago he had me in his arms.

I craved him. It was like our one night together created a need in me that I didn't know how to fill until I found myself back in his life.

He swore softly as I raked him with my fingertips.

He'd positioned himself, so one hand was under my ass, anchoring me to him while his other hand was free to stroke down my ass. He paused at my asshole. I stiffened with surprise.

"Oh, yes, Holly. I want every part of you. I'm going to taste every part of you. And if I didn't have a castle full of guests, I'd do everything that we both need. But right now, I'm going to give us a bit of relief until later."

I nodded, weak with desire for him. He said exactly what I wanted to hear, he was going to claim every part of me.

He dipped his fingers lower into the fold of my pussy, sliding one finger inside me to stroke me. "Always so wet, Holly."

"Please," I begged.

He added a second finger. The sound of my wet pussy sucking on his fingers made me more excited. I moaned and clung to him.

I reached for his already hard cock, slipping my hand over his smooth round head. It was wet with precum. He flexed hard into my hand.

"I want you inside me now," I begged.

He grunted his agreement by sliding the tip of his cock in, teasing me. His head was large, stretching me wide for the rest of him. He paused, giving me time to adjust to his size. Soon I was squeezing my legs around his waist, trying to pull him deeper inside me.

Malcolm thrust all the way inside me in one smooth stroke.

"Yes"" I breathed. It was a wholly inadequate sentiment to the pleasure radiating through my body, but it was all I could manage.

His cock completely filled me. When Malcolm pulled back, my pussy muscles clamped down, trying to hold him inside me.

"Patience, love," he murmured, then he thrust again slowly.

He began to work me like that, pulling his cock almost all the way out until my pussy muscles grabbed at his head. He increased his pace. The wet sound of our coupling mingled with murmurs.

"You feel made for me, baby. So perfect."

I nodded, unable to speak. I could feel my orgasm building. I clung to Malcolm, loving the feeling of him fucking me, of our fucking each other.

My nipples were hard and pressed against his dress shirt. The friction of them against the shirt made them more sensitive. That, combined with his cock buried inside me and being fucked up against a wall in a Scottish castle made my body tingle with pleasure.

"You are a dirty girl." Malcolm breathed in my ear, smoothing my hair back. "You like this don't you? The thrill of someone possible walking in on us."

"Malcolm, please. Don't stop," I cried softly.

"No chance of that. Now come for me, Holly." He thrust so deeply my back pressed hard against the cold stone wall. The combination of those sensations pushed me over the edge.

Malcolm swallowed my cries with open mouth kisses as I trembled in his arms. He came then too, the hot pulse of his cum filling my pussy over and over.

I felt boneless and thoroughly pleasured. I wanted to crawl into bed and sleep until Malcolm fucked me again.

"Let's go to bed," I offered with a wiggle of my brows.

"We can't love. We have to get back to the party before someone comes looking for us. We haven't even danced yet."

The only sound in the hallway was our heavy breathing, though far away strains of the orchestra played Christmas carols.

I wanted to be near Malcolm. I would do anything to be near him.

It wasn't a thought I wanted to dwell on right now.

"I'm kind of a mess. Do you have a Kleenex?" I asked, straightening my rumpled skirt down over my hips. For the first time this evening, I was sorry about my lack of panties.

"No." He arranged his kilt.

"Doesn't that kilt have pockets?" A gush of cum slid down my inner thigh.

"Nope." He glanced up at me with a heart-stopping smirk.

"What the fuck, Malcolm?" It was hard to be mad at him when all I wanted was for him to repeat what he had just done.

"I'm fine with you waltzing back in there with your pussy full of my cum." He gave me a feral grin as he straightened his tie. "In fact, that's how I prefer it. Let all those fuckers smell me all over you." He paused to meet my eyes as he gathered me in his arms. "You do realize you could well be pregnant with my baby. Our first time you were on the pill. Neither of us bothered to think about it since you landed in Scotland."

He was right.

"Truth? I hope I am." I was drowsy with pleasure. I laid my head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat under my ear.

His arms came around me and for once I didn't feel like the world might swallow me whole if I dared stopped for one minute.

"What are you saying?" He put one hand on my shoulder and used the other to tip my chin up."

"Let's talk about it later, Malcolm." His eyes were full of hot, possessive desire, and something else that I couldn't read.

"Now is good for me."

"It's not good for me." I fastened my dress back around my neck.

He wanted to talk now? It was too soon. I wasn't ready for the fairytale to end.

I smoothed my hands down my thighs, hoping to smooth any wrinkles out of my dress, then snatched his jacket off the floor where it had saved my knees and handed it to him.

But I'd never been a fan of fairytales, I preferred facts.

He didn't budge.

Fine.

"It can never work between us. But that doesn't stop me from wishing it could. I'd love to be carrying your baby. I haven't been on the pill in a long time and didn't even think about it." I glanced up. "I think we both got carried away."

His dark brown eyes were hooded in the shadow of the hallway. He was hurt. Of course, he was. He was a damned duke and used to getting whatever he wanted.

"It's the truth." The silence turned me into a babbler. Why didn't I shut up? But I didn't. I charged on. "Don't worry, if I'm pregnant, I will cherish our child."

Malcolm's face went white. He grabbed my upper arms.

I winced at his grasp, and he loosened his hold.

"Are you fucking joking me?" His voice was hoarse.

"Of course not. I wouldn't joke about something like that. You could visit anytime you like. I won't be a barrier to you knowing our child. Besides, it's too early to tell if I'm pregnant so I don't know why we're even discussing this now."

"You are serious." Malcolm breathed. His mouth set into a grim line. "You actually think you're going to have my baby and raise it across the Atlantic Ocean. In what, a walk-up in the Bronx? And that I'd visit, every other Thanksgiving, or stop in a Christmas with a gift?"

"I think we're getting ahead of ourselves. Your life is here. Someday, you'll want a family here?—"

"Don't you tell me what I want." Malcolm leaned against the wall, his arms pinned on either side of me. He ran a hand through his hair. "I have enough other people doing that."

"Malcolm! Holly! There you are!" Malcolm's mother's voice echoed down the hallway. "Come quickly, it's time to light the tree. Everyone's waiting for you. It's almost midnight."

Malcolm reached out for me, but I crossed my arms over my chest as I shook my head.

He was insane if he thought I was going back in the ballroom with him now.

With his back turned to his mother, he folded me into his arms and whispered into my ear, "This discussion is far from over. You're mine Holly Ives as much as I am yours."

Then that Mother Fucker kissed me. And it wasn't a quick peck on the lips. It was a soul-searing kiss, which had me opening my mouth to grant him better access.

He broke it off. "You are mine."

Then he stalked off to his guests.

Holy hell.

If I had been wearing panties, they'd have been soaked.

I had a chemical weakness for this man, and it was only going to end by drastic means.

I had to leave Lachlan.

Now.

Glancing out the window, the falling snow made leaving by climbing out a window an absolutely ridiculous idea.

Shame. I liked the drama of it.

I made my way back to the front of the castle. I bypassed the ballroom, refusing to even glance inside. One look at Malcolm and my resolve would weaken.

In the main front hall, Jaime stood by the massive wooden front doors.

I recognized the young man from my arrival. I'd seen him around Lachlan working while I was here. He always blushed when he saw me.

Sweet. Why couldn't I fall for some sweet guy like that? Hell, we were probably the same age. Instead, I was in love with the broody, bossy asshole duke.

"Jaime, can you give me a ride to the airport."

"Now?" His glance dropped lower to my attire.

"Now."

"His Grace's vehicles are away in the garages. But there are taxis out front for the guests."

"A taxi sounds perfect."

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Should I gather your luggage?"

"No need. I'm ready to go now."

He shrugged out of the dark wool coat that he wore. "You'll need this, my Lady." He held it out to me as I slipped my arms into the sleeves. It was still warm from his body. He wore the Lachlan staff uniform of a blue button-down shirt and blue pants. He'd need another coat, but I'm sure there was a closet full of them.

Jaime swallowed. "What should I say to His Grace?"

I looked down. The jacket arms were too long, and the coat's hem went past my knees. A badge with Lachlan ducal crest was sewn on the chest pocket.

I ripped the crest off and handed it to Jaime. "Give him this."

He dipped his head, then opened the front door for me. A frigid gust blew inside, but I put my head down and dove outside.

The snow had stopped falling and a ring of private cars and taxis waited along the circular driveway.

Jaime started down the steps with me, taking my arm lightly. Even cleared of snow and ice, the stairs were treacherous in my heels.

His cell phone rang. He paused. "I'm needed inside."

"Thank you for the coat. Go, before you freeze."

He pulled a wad of bills from his pocket. "Safe travels, my Lady."

I stared down at his tips. I'd repay him once I got away from here. "Thank you."

He hurried back up the steps.

Pulling the coat closer, I reached the curb, but the first two taxis I approached told me they'd been pre-arranged.

Great.

Nice escape. I'd made it all the way to the driveway. I was cold out here to stand around looking for a ride. And I didn't want Malcolm to notice I was gone.

Just then, a black Range Rover pulled around the driveway. The passenger window unrolled. "Need a lift?" The man's Scottish accent was thick. His cap was pulled low over his head. The inside of the car was dark, the interior lights weren't working.

I didn't hesitate. Beggars couldn't be choosers on Christmas Eve.

"Yes, please!" I opened the back-passenger door and slipped inside. I sagged against the leather seat. I squeezed my eyes shut, lying my head against the headrest.

The vehicle moved down the drive, gaining speed. A few tears slipped down my cheeks, but I didn't wipe them away. Lachlan lit with holiday decorations and covered in fresh snow was imprinted on my mind.

And Malcolm.

He'd be pissed when he discovered that I'd left. But he'd also see this was the right thing for us. I'd get back to New York and deal with the stalker. Maybe he'd moved on. If I could be so lucky.

Suddenly, taking my chances with a stalker seemed less risky than staying so close to Malcolm. If I'd let him have that conversation there would be no way I would refuse and then where would I be? Just a girl in a castle with a medical degree and no where to go. Castles were great, but I didn't work this hard to be locked away in a castle.

I think. I didn't know. And therein lay the problem.

The vehicle continued to gain speed as we left the estate.

I had a prickling sensation up my spine that wasn't from pleasure.

I opened my eyes. I squinted in the dim light. Was the driver wearing the same plaid that Fergus wore—the Lachlan tartan?

I glanced around the car. This was the one Malcolm picked me up in.

"Excuse me, would you please slow down? It's icy out." My nails pricked my palms.

"Certainly." The timber of his Scottish brogue sent shivers down my spine. The only voice that did that was Malcolm's?—

Leaning forward, I peered at the man in the driver's seat. His dark curly hair peaked out from under his hat and his profile was one I'd grown to love. A strong nose, thick lashes, and full lips.

But how could Malcolm be here?

"Malcolm." My fingers dug into the seat in front of me. I leaned forward.

He pulled off his cap, and his lips twisted into a cruel grin as I got my first good look at his face. "Try again."

I sucked in a sharp breath.

The light white scar under Malcolm's eye was gone.

I shook my head; I'd had too much to drink tonight. There was no way Malcolm's scar could be gone.

He returned his attention to the road. His eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. "Are you supposed to be a genius, Lass?"

He wasn't Malcolm.

He was Ronan, Malcolm's no longer presumed dead twin.

Fuuuuuuck.

"You're Ronan?"

"The true Duke of Lachlan."

What. The. Fuck.

It was official—my life had become a made for tv movie.

"Where have you been? Did…? Did you fake your death and hideout? Why the fuck would you do that?"

He was quiet a minute, frowning. "I was given some bad business advice. My investments didn't work out."

Rage bubbled through me. I thought of everything that Malcolm and his mother had been through thinking this man was dead.

"Dressing up your gambling debts in a Scottish accent doesn't make you any less of a shit. Malcolm has been killing himself to save Lachlan."

"He always wanted the title for himself."

"His medical career was all for show then? I don't think so. You can't bullshit a New Yorker." I said flatly. Besides, Malcolm wanted to be working as a physician in New York with me.

Ronan met my eyes in the review view mirror. "You have a sharp tongue on you, Lass. I'm not quite sure what my brother sees in you. Although having seen the two of you in the hall, I have a good idea."

Disgust washed over me. "Fuck you."

"Would you like that? See how I measure up to my brother?"

"Gross. Just drop me off, I'll get a ride to the airport with someone who doesn't have the last name Murdoch." If I never heard another Scottish accent that would be fine with me. I was so over this whole damned crazy kilt wearing family.

"I can't do that, Lass. Not when there's a stalker after you."

I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. Ronan faking his own death was crazy but him knowing I had a stalker was creepy. "How do you know that?" My mind reeled. The pieces all falling into place. "It's you? You've been stalking me." I'd never seen the man who pushed me down, but I thought of the phone message and mail. "Why?"

"Because I knew stalking you would drive my brother mad with worry."

Oh, of all the fucking lousy luck. I ran away from one pain in my ass Murdoch brother only to run right into another one. And this one had some serious sibling rivalry issues to work out. Too bad, I hadn't studied psychiatry. Working in Metropolitan Hospital's Emergency Department, I dealt with plenty of psych issues daily, but none quite like this.

I turned my head to look out the window. The dark snowy Scottish countryside stretched out before me. Here and there, we passed a cottage, but most were dark. It was midnight on Christmas Eve, most everyone was asleep.

Ronan probably wasn't going to hurt me, but I feared he was going to hurt Malcolm. I thought hard. I worked in an emergency department and had seen just about every type of injury there was. No way was I going to jump out of a moving car.

"How did you know about Malcolm and me?"

"Research," he said simply. "My brother isn't the only one who can hire security."

I sat back against the seat. My mind spun. Malcolm hired security while I was in New York? That couldn't be.

My mind churned and finally landed on the memories of my new apartment, gifted to me from a grateful patient. Grateful patient my ass. That was Malcolm.

"Motherfucker." I breathed. I was going to kill him. Who the fuck did he think he was to take over my life like that?

Ronan's laugh had no warmth. "You figured it out?"

I seethed. I hated Malcolm Murdoch.

Why?

There were so many reasons.

For being in my life.

For meddling in my life.

For making me his.

For making me fall in love with him.

"When Malcolm finds out where I am, he's going to kill you."

"I'm counting on him trying." The timber of Ronan's voice was so similar to Malcolm's it was eerie.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

Yeah. Not the answer I wanted. I leaned my forehead against my window. With the clear night, the moonlight shone down on top of the fresh snow. Even being kidnapped didn't change how beautiful the still night was.

Not a soul was out except some idiot driving a sleigh.

I peered closer. Said idiot wore a hat, and his coat flapped around him. He looked damn good in his kilt as he raced across the open field on a course to intersect with us.

I exhaled, relief flooding my body at the sight of him.

"Malcolm."