Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

C ol slept until the sun’s rays slanting through the high window woke him. He was spooning her body with his and, predictably, his cock was hard against her lovely bottom pressing back into his groin. Suppressing his libidinous inclinations, he slid out backwards and rose. Grabbing up a shirt to cover his nakedness, he pushed open the barn door and stepped outside to take a piss. The barn was several feet from the road and partially screened by bushes. He found a convenient bush to relieve himself against and then turned to survey the terrain and take in the day.

Judging by the position of the sun, it was about an hour past sunrise. And the clouds were of the white and fluffy persuasion this morning, with the very welcome warmth of the sun glinting off all the wet greenery and soaked earth. The world had that fresh-washed smell, and with only a light breeze, it bid fair to be a fine day. Taking a stroll round the barn, he found a water trough filled with fresh rainwater. Perfect for the horses. He grinned. He stripped off his shirt and plunged his hands in to give himself a quick wash.

He went back inside and checked on Aihan: she appeared to still be asleep. He removed the horses’ nosebags and led them outside for a drink at the trough. He inspected the mare and found she had a few scratches that would need tending, but otherwise seemed unharmed. When they’d had their fill, he tethered them to a nearby tree and returned to the barn.

Aihan rolled over and blinked at him. He’d not bothered to redon his shirt, and she ran her eyes over his naked body. Just her gaze was enough to stir his cock to life.

He cleared his throat and said, “would you like something to eat? I have some bread and cheese in my saddlebag.”

She shook her head. “Later.” She held open the plaid in invitation. He grinned. Aihan was always direct about what she wanted. He came to the makeshift bed and slid in with her.

“Are ye better this morning?” he asked, sliding his hands over her body. She was warm from the plaid.

“Aye,” she murmured. “How did ye find me?”

“I just followed ye. Ye’re not hard to track, love. Ye’re the only Chinese lass in the whole of the United Kingdom, ye ken?”

“Am I?”

“Well, in this bit of it, anyway.” He stroked his hand down her spine. “I was worried sick about ye. How did those men find ye?”

She had been tracing a series of kisses over his chest, but that brought her head up. She shuddered to his alarm. “They followed me from Teviothead. I tried to lose them by going off the road, but the leader followed me into the trees. There was a fallen trunk, and I tumbled from the mare’s back when she leaped over it. He came for me then but—” She stopped and took a breath. “I flipped him, and he broke his neck on a tree branch.”

“Ah, love!” He held her tight. “That must have been terrible,” he murmured.

“It was.” She clung to him, little tremors shaking her body. “I’ve never killed anyone before, but he was going to rape me and share me with his friends. I was desperate to stop him.”

“And ye did.” He knew a moment’s pride for her resourcefulness, and relief that she had not had to face them all at once. “Where were the others?”

“Looking for me. They split up to search. It was just bad luck that he found me.” She took a breath and let it out. “It took me an age to find my way out of the forest and back to the road. And when I did, I found the rest of them.”

He tightened his hold on her, his heart rate picking up in alarm.

“They surrounded me with their horses, so I forced the mare to rear and kick out and I charged out of the circle and back to the road and off the other side. I pushed through some brambles. I think the mare was hurt; we will have to look.”

“I checked. She’s alright, but ye, were ye hurt?”

“Some scratches.” She dismissed it with a wave of her hand. “The thing was, I got away and ye found me.” She hugged him. “I’ve never been so glad of anything in my life. Ye were right. It’s nae safe for a woman alone in Scotland. It would have been much worse if I didn’t know how to fight. And I’m grateful ye were there when they came back, or I don’t know what would have happened.”

“Aye.” He hugged her tight, shuddering at the prospect of what they would have done to her in vengeance for their captain’s death. “I had to come after ye, lass. Not only isn’t it safe, ye had hold of the wrong end of the stick.”

“What?” she stared at him, obviously puzzled by this expression.

“Merlow didnae kill yer brother, Hana. Liang died of an apoplexy. Merlow tried his damndest to revive him, but couldnae do so. Merlow is a doctor, ye ken, a healer. He wouldnae kill anyone if he could help it.” He watched her face, hoping she would believe him. “I tried to tell ye. But I’d done the damage with the first words I uttered about them fighting, and ye wouldnae listen. I’m so sorry for yer loss, lass, but it wasnae Merlow’s fault. Liang attacked him and his wife Hetty. Merlow was forced to defend himself and protect her. I’ll read ye the whole letter. Then ye’ll understand.”

He got up and found the letter in his pack, then returned to the bed and sat. He read the whole thing to her and she listened, her brow furrowed, sitting cross-legged next to him. When he spoke of the deaths of the other Chinese men, she uttered a small cry and covered her mouth.

He stopped. “Ye knew them, lass?”

She nodded. “They were Liang’s loyal followers.” She bowed her head. “So much death. What happened to the third man?”

“I’m getting to that.” He resumed reading, and she wiped a tear off her cheek hearing the fate of the third Chinese soldier.

When he finished reading the final part about Liang’s death, she sat silently, staring down at her hands clasped in her lap.

A sob escaped her, and she murmured, “His dreams came to nothing. To have the Neidan in his grasp and lose it like that—” She gulped, her eyes awash with tears.

A great, aching sob wracked her, and he dropped the letter and drew her into his arms and rocked her. “I’m so sorry, Aihan!” He felt helpless in the face of her sorrow, and empathy brought tears to his own eyes.

He eased her down under the plaid and held her while she cried. When she had sobbed herself to a standstill, he found her a handkerchief and rubbed her back in slow circles as she lay on his chest, sniffing.

He stroked her and kissed her hair, trying to comfort her. She raised her face, and he kissed her, just for comfort. But the kiss rapidly became more than comfort, and he rolled her back into the rustling hay as she squirmed beneath him, her hands running over his body and demanding he make her feel better. At least that was what he thought she was doing.

He raised his head, panting. “Ye want this, lass?”

“Aye,” she growled, pulling him down into another kiss. Surrendering to the inevitable, he stroked his fingers between her legs. She was wet and his cock jumped eagerly. He rubbed her quickly until she was panting and squirming. Then, sensing her impatience, he rolled into position and entered her body with a swift hard thrust. She groaned with him as their bodies aligned, and she surged up into him, twisting under him, panting and making little grunting noises that he found deeply erotic.

“Fook!” he groaned, the lightning igniting in his spine. She bit his shoulder, her hands clamping tightly on his biceps as she drove herself higher. His balls pulled tight as pleasure built and built, and he thrust deep, hard, and frenziedly fast.

Abruptly they both came, hard . She clamped him tight as she cried out and his seed released with a sudden and violent spasm. The wave of sharp bliss forced an incoherent shout from his throat as his body convulsed with pleasure. Collapsing in a panting heap of tangled limbs, he closed his eyes, getting his breath back and feeling the tingles of waning pleasure subside slowly, leaving him boneless and drifting on a tide of happiness.

“Fook, that was quick,” he murmured.

“Aye,” she said, sounding muzzy and breathless. “Good, though.”

“Aye,” he agreed with a smile. “Very good.”

After a bit he moved, flopping onto his back. “Lass, I have to ask ye this.”

“Aye?” She turned her head to look at him with a sated smile.

He rolled towards her and took her hand. “D’ye want to go home, lass? I made some enquires about ships to China?—”

She stiffened. “Do ye want me to go?”

“Fook, nae!” He gripped her hand tighter. “But if it’s what ye want—? I cannae bear ye to be unhappy, lass. Even if it breaks my heart.”

She swallowed and rolled towards him. “Nae, Mac, I dinnae want to go back to China. There is nothing for me there.”

He pulled her close and hugged her, his heart eased.

“Would ye like that food now?”

“Aye.”

They shared the bread, cheese, and wine, still wrapped in the plaid. He was conscious they should be making their way back to Teviothead and the boys, but when they had finished eating, the temptation to slide back under the covers and hold her for just a little longer was too much.

Some kisses and strokes became more, and before he knew it, he was between her legs, licking and suckling her to orgasm.

Then she was riding him, and he lay looking up at her, squeezing a breast and rubbing her to another orgasm with his fingers, delighting in the sight and sounds of her pleasure and the delicious sensation of her cunny squeezing his rigid cock. He was shocked by his own rapid recovery, but too enthralled to question it. Rolling her under him again, he thrust slowly, wanting to savour and take his time this round. Building them both up gradually. Easing off and then building again. With caresses and kisses and strokes deep inside her.

He pulled out, flipped her onto her belly and, positioning a fold of the plaid under her hips, he entered her and pressed her slowly downward until she was sandwiched between him and their straw bedding. Flexing his hips, he drove into her with hard, slow strokes, and she moaned, pushing back. The sheer eroticism of the moment threatened to overwhelm him. She pushed back under him, and he pressed her down with a hard snap of his hips, thrusting deeper, harder. A taking, a possessive owning. She was his and wouldn’t escape him again.

He bit her neck, and she arched it forward for him, submitting to his possession with every sigh of deep pleasure.

“Fook, Aihan, I love ye,” he whispered, pushing deeper again.

“Ah!” she moaned. “I love ye too,” she whispered back, and he smiled. The fire ran down his spine and ignited his balls as he thrust one final time and came with a slowly unravelling joy. As he subsided onto her body, he lay breathing in her scent and absorbing her heat. Contentment in every bone and pore of his body.

As Col rolled off her and drew her into his arms, she sighed with happiness. Burrowing into his embrace, she wrapped her arms round him, realising she never wanted to be anywhere else but here.

He had said he loved her. Did he mean it, or was it the sex talking? She rather thought he meant it. She had meant it. As if reading her thoughts, he stroked her hair and said, “I love ye, Aihan, never doubt it. Ye’ve stolen the heart right out of my chest when I didnae think I had one to be taken. Ye scared the living daylights out of me, running like that. Please don’t do it again. I don’t think my heart can take it.”

She met his deep blue gaze and got lost in that sea of love. This man. This man had so much love to give. She was blessed.

She touched his cheek and pressed her lips to his in a tender kiss. “I love ye, Mac. I’ll not run from ye again, I promise.”

“Good.” He squeezed her tight. “We’d best be going, love; I left the boys at Teviothead.”

“What!” She sat up shocked.

“They insisted on coming too, I coudnae deny them. They love ye, lass.”

Her eyes filled with sudden tears again, and she swallowed. “I love them too.”

He smiled. “I’m glad of that. Then ye’ll nae mind being their mother? They’re in sore need, as ye might have noticed.”

“Aye, I’ve noticed.” She smiled shyly at him, and he pulled her down to kiss her.

A little while later he said. “We really must get out of this bed.”

“Aye.”

“Come.” He sat up with determination. “There’s a water trough to wash in, it’s a mite cold, but it’ll get the job done.”

They washed, dressed in damp clothes, packed up their belongings and mounted their horses, nosing them back to the road.

They rode for some way in silence. The weather was such a contrast to yesterday’s misery, she could almost think herself in a different country. Her thoughts roamed back over everything he had told her, and she said, “I want to see it.”

“See what, love?” He turned his head to look at her; they were riding abreast.

“The Neidan. I want to see what he gave his life for!”

“Aye, love. I’ll take ye to Merlow, then, once we collect the boys. I’d like them to visit their uncle as well. I’d better send a note to Fergus, let him know ye’re well and we will be away a mite longer than anticipated.”

She smiled, very pleased.

Two hours later they reached Teviothead, to be greeted with great enthusiasm by the boys.

“Ye’ll stay with us, Aihan?” asked Rory seriously.

“Aye, I’ve already given ye father my word I’ll nae run again.”

He nodded decisively, as if satisfied.

“I hope ye’ve no objections, lads, but I was planning on marrying her,” said Col, his arm cinched tightly round her waist.

“Really Athair?” said Callum. He grinned. “That’s splendid!”

Col raised an eyebrow at Rory, who flushed and said gruffly, “I’d like that—Mama.”

Aihan hugged both boys and looked at Col over their heads. She mouthed, Thank ye .

“Well, that’s settled, then,” said Col. “We’ll call past Gretna on the way and tie the knot there. Boys, we’re going to visit yer Uncle Merlow, how do ye like that?”

This news also met with their approval, and after lunch they bad farewell to Mrs George and set off for Gretna Green, where Col was handfasted to his second wife over a blacksmith’s anvil, witnessed by his two sons.