Page 89 of The Highlander Who Loved Me

He hissed in a breath. The sound brought forth even more wetness between her legs. She lifted her hips. Her body was moist and ready. He brushed a kiss over her lips as he slid inside her. Davina closed her eyes and sighed with contentment.

There was no rush to climax for either of them. James pulled back slowly, thrusting in a languid tempo. It was a gentle loving, exciting in a different way. Her arms tightened around him, keeping him as close as possible, as her breathing grew ragged and hoarse.

They reached their pleasure together, bodies shuddering and shaking and then going still. Davina could feel his seed spill within her. The promise of a child brought tears to her eyes; having a family with James would truly make her life complete.

The heat of his breath on her neck helped her relax. It felt familiar, safe. She ran her hand lightly over his muscled back. When he rolled to his side, she followed.

Finally drowsy, Davina looked to the fireplace, taking note of the small pile of glowing embers. Her eyelids grew heavy, but then her nose started to twitch.

“James, do ye smell smoke?”

“Hmm?”

“Smoke. I smell smoke.”

He shifted and drew in a deep breath. “Hell! Ye’re right. Put on yer nightgown. We need to sound the alarm and get out of here.”

Heart pounding, Davina raced to her trunk, haphazardly pulling out garments, grabbing the first item she could easily slip over her head. It was a rather revealing nightgown, part of the trousseau that Lady Aileen had insisted be made for Davina and appropriate only for her husband’s eyes.

In deference to sheer fabric, Davina threw her cloak over her shoulders. James grabbed her hand and she saw that he too had hastily thrown on a pair of brais and a tunic. Barefooted, they raced to the chamber door.

James yanked it open. A rush of heat enveloped them and the smell of burning wood brought on fits of coughing. At the end of the corridor they could see flames shooting into the air, producing billows of black smoke, could hear the crackle of burning wood.

“The stairs are on fire!” she shouted, covering her mouth and nose to prevent breathing in the worst of the smoke. She pivoted on her heel, scanning the other side of the hall, even though she knew there was no other exit. “We’re trapped.”

James turned and ran back into their bedchamber, emerging with a tapestry in his hands. Holding one end firmly, he began beating the flames. Following his lead, Davina snatched the pillows from their bed and returned to help.

“Watch yer hair,” James cried.

Wasting precious time, Davina quickly braided her hair and tossed it over her shoulder. Working together, they managed to smother one section, but the flames quickly spread to another. The heat was unbearable. Davina’s eyes watered, her throat stung, her arms grew heavy. But she matched her husband stroke for stroke as they fought for their lives and home.

“Sir James!” a voice called from the other side of the fire. “Help is on the way. The villagers are gathering buckets and water.”

“Colin?” Davina shouted.

“Aye, milady.”

“Be careful. Dinnae get too close.”

“I saw the flames from my pallet and roused the household,” Colin called excitedly.

“Are we under attack?” James asked.

“I’m not sure,” the lad answered. “Sir Malcolm is on the wall with the guard, but they’ve not sounded a battle alarm.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Davina rasped, turning to her husband.

James coughed long and loud. A deep frown of concern lined his forehead. “If necessary, Malcolm will defend the keep. But we must contain the blaze here. If any sparks hit the thatched roofs in the village, every cottage could be lost.”

It seemed to take an eternity, but in truth was no more than a few minutes before the sound of water being hurled at the flames filled the hall. Female cries could be heard mixed with the male voices shouting commands and Davina was heartened to realize the women had also joined the bucket line.

Eventually, she started seeing puddles of water on the charred wooden landing. Hope claimed her heart as they continued to battle the blaze and appeared to be winning.

The fire was nearly out when suddenly there was a burst of motion behind them and a man leaped from the shadows. Davina screamed in shock. The man charged James and launched himself forward, hitting James squarely in the chest. James caught his attacker by the arms, attempting to hold him off. The pair pushed and shoved their way down the hall, toward the blaze.

Eyes wild, teeth bared, the attacker fought like a madman. James cursed loudly, drew back his fist, and landed a sharp blow on the man’s jaw. It knocked his opponent off balance, but the man clutched James’s tunic and they fell down together.

Behind them Davina could see the flames of the fire still burning, even as the buckets of water were being thrown on them. James and his attacker rolled away from the fire, a snarling jumble of legs and arms and fists. Another scream lodged in Davina’s throat when she saw the attacker pull out a knife, the long blade flashing in the firelight, sharp and lethal.

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