Chapter Twelve

Alaric groaned and tugged her close to him, his mouth finding hers. He had to do something to stop her trembling and shivering and chattering teeth. He managed to slip out of his trews while he kissed her.

She pushed her leggings down and spread her legs, then taking him firmly in her hand and guiding him between her legs. She wanted him, and that drove his own need for her to a height he'd never experienced before.

She whimpered when he rolled her onto her back and moved between her legs, angling himself at her entrance, doing his best to tease her. She wriggled against him, whispering against his ear.

"Aye, more, Alaric. I feel yer heat. More, pleeeease."

His hands found her breasts again under her tunic, and he teased her nipple, pleased to feel her arching against him. Her nipples were so cold that they were already peaked. But when she squirmed beneath him, begging him for more, angling his manhood exactly where she wanted him, he knew she was coming undone.

She was driving their coupling more than he would have guessed. She writhed against him until he found himself fitting inside her entrance. Her slickness surprised him, and it drove him forward just a bit. He should move slowly, gently, if he were taking her maidenhead.

But her words drove him to finish the deed. "Alaric, ye are so hot and warming me everywhere. This feels so wonderful, I need ye more. Please come into me. More, please."

She rambled on in her need, begging him as she spread her legs wider. Any hesitancy he might have still felt disappeared. He pushed inside.

"Ow!" she shouted, pinching his shoulder.

"One moment. Give it a moment, lass. It will go away, I promise."

And sooner than he expected, she was moving against him, controlling their rhythm and positions so he was pulsing against her just right. They moved against each other in that wonderful dance that only happened between lovers. This was the magic of melding well with someone, of fitting together the way nature intended. He made himself go slowly until she punched him.

"Faster, damn ye!"

He obeyed, speeding up and going deeper inside her with each push. He could feel her contractions until she finally convulsed against him with a scream, and he finished with a roar.

He rolled onto his back, taking her with him until she was on top of him. He covered her with his plaid and kept his arms wrapped around her, panting in the aftermath of pleasure unlike any he'd ever had before. She collapsed against him, her breathing as fast as his own.

"Ye found yer pleasure, Eli?"

"I sure as hell did. I had no idea it could be so pleasing." She laughed, her cheek resting against his chest. "Your heart is beating so fast."

"Fast and happy," he murmured, kissing her forehead.

He rubbed circles on her back, then rolled onto his side, still cocooning her within his arms.

She was sound asleep. And the truth of it all hit him.

What the hell had they just done?

***

The next morning, Eli awakened a bit sore in various spots, including one she hadn't realized could be sore, but that didn't concern her. In fact, she was quite pleased with herself for her boldness with Alaric. His arms were still wrapped around her but she forced herself to push away a wee bit, just to check to see if he was still asleep.

He wasn't, instead looking at her with a sly grin. She gave him the same back. "Pleased with yerself, Grant?" she asked.

"Aye. And by the expression on yer face, Lady Ramsay, I'd say ye are just as pleased with yerself as I am."

"I cannae deny it. It was a most enjoyable night. Now the question is, can we find our way back to the path and the rest of the patrol?"

He gave her a quick kiss on the lips. The action confused her, but it also pleased her. After unraveling their intertwined limbs, he stood and then helped her to her feet. The cold hit her like a blast and she shivered, realizing how fortunate she was to have slept in his arms. She headed toward the mouth of the cave but he shouted, scaring the wits from her.

"What?"

"Lass, ye know no' who will be out there. Put yer leggings on."

She looked down at her bare legs and chuckled. "I suppose ye are correct, even though I dinnae need them for my first task."

"But Maitland could be looking for us. Have ye no dignity?"

She had to ponder that for a moment because she was unsure of her answer. It wouldn't have bothered her to walk out and take care of her needs before donning her leggings, but she supposed it made good sense to put them on. After all, she wouldn't like to be kidnapped half naked in just a tunic. And she did need her boots.

"Probably ye are right. I'll put them on." She chuckled as she balanced on one foot to put her clothing on, then her boots. "Have we any food left?"

"I only have a couple of oatcakes. Ye?"

"None," she said as they headed out of the cave.

They both took care of their needs and met near their horses.

"What say ye, lass? Try to find the others or head home?"

Eli took a bit of an oatcake and looked around as she chewed. "The mist is gone, so we should try to find our way back to the path. The place we'd said we would meet." Then she gave him a saucy look. "Or we could do what we did last night. One more time?"

He stared at her wide-eyed. "Are ye no' sore?"

She shrugged. "Mayhap a wee bit. But I'm sure it will go away quickly."

Alaric glanced over his shoulder.

"What?"

"Naught." He kissed her on the lips too quickly for her to react. "I think we should move on. Try to find the group."

"One more time? I like that there is no one to worry about. No one here to watch us."

He whipped his head around to look behind him.

"What? Why do ye keep looking over yer shoulder? No one is there."

"Ye cannae see him? Because I surely can." His face went pale with fright. She'd never seen him look so.

"Who?" She moved him off to the side and stared where he was looking. "There is no one there."

"Aye, there is." He pointed at nothing Eli could see but trees and undergrowth.

"Where?"

"Right there. My grandsire Alex."

Eli stared at him. "Alaric, yer grandfather passed away last Yule."

"I know. But that cannae stop him from watching us. Probably makes it easier. He saw us last night. We arenae married, so now he's hounding me."

The fear in his face was surely real. And she didn't know how to tell him that the act of handfasting meant naught to her. But if it would help him ignore the ghost of his grandsire, she would do it.

She knew exactly how ornery grandparents could be.

"Alaric, he cannae be here. He's dead!"

"His spirit is no' dead, 'tis quite alive and glaring at me. And if my grandmama shows up, we'll be finding a kirk. But until then, we have to handfast. Your choice, lass—marry in the first kirk we come to or handfast now."

"We did handfast."

"No' officially." The sweat broke out across his forehead again. "Please? He'll no' leave me be until we do. I swear that every time I look over my shoulder, he will be there. Please, Eli."

"Fine. He doesn't spook me, but if he's bothering ye, then we can handfast. But I thought we already did."

"Nay, we only spoke of it." He held his hand out and said, "Give me yer hand."

She gave him a skeptical look.

"I'm doing it, Grandpapa!" He looked behind him again. "Eli, would ye like to have yer grandsire looking over yer shoulder all the time? Alexander Grant would be ten times worse. I have to get rid of him. Hellfire. He heard that." He turned all the way around and held out his hands placatingly. "I do love ye, Grandpapa, just no' so much when yer ghost hovers and glares like that. I'll fix it!"

Eli put her hand over her mouth to hide her grin. He truly believed his grandfather was watching them and, apparently, sending a very clear message.

Alaric turned back to her. "Ye think 'tis amusing, but ye'll see someday when yer grandsire passes on and watches everything ye do."

Eli scowled, that thought too frightening. She shuddered at the thought. "Well, that would be disconcerting, I suppose."

"Take my hand, Eli," Alaric urged, his voice commanding now.

"Dinnae panic, Alaric. Logan Ramsay is already looking over my shoulder all the time, but I'll agree if 'twill please ye."

"Logan wasn't here to see us last night, was he? That would be the difference."

She couldn't argue that and stifled a second shudder. "Ye make a fair point." She held out her hand, and he took it, tossing the end of his plaid over their intertwined fingers. Then he repeated some Gaelic phrases and said, "I agree to handfast to ye, Eli Ramsay, for a year and a day. Do ye agree?"

"Aye. Sure."

He leaned over and kissed her, then pulled the plaid back, dropping her hand.

"Is he gone?"

He looked back and then smiled. "Aye, he's gone."

Crushing pain slammed into Eli's shoulder. "Ach!" She bent double, hand to the invisible wound.

"Eli! What's wrong?" Alaric gripped her arms and held her.

"My shoulder hurts, like someone put an arrow in it."

As if that wasn't enough, her knee began to ache, just as it had when her grandmother had fallen in the great hall. She bent over to massage it.

"Does yer knee hurt too?" Alaric asked. He looked around, as if he might spot the archer shooting phantom arrows.

"Aye. They both hurt. Help me get on my horse. We need to find the others. I think something has happened."

He helped her mount, then climbed into his own saddle and they headed back the direction they had come from the night before. It didn't take them long to find their way to the true path now that the mist was gone.

When they could ride abreast again, Alaric looked at her with concern in his eyes.

"What is going on, Eli? I cannae see any blood. Are ye injured?"

"Nay. I have no idea what happened. I'm not truly hurt. Let's hurry, though."

She motioned for him to move along, and he didn't ask again. Which was good. She'd nearly told him the truth, that she would sometimes feel other people's pain, especially if they were injured. Her grandmother's knee was worse than it had been when she'd left Ramsay land. Of that she was certain. But the shoulder pain concerned her.

Someone she knew had taken a shoulder injury.

But who?