Page 21 of The Story of his Highland Bride
“Nan.” Jackson scowled, but it couldn’t hide the slight flush of pink in his cheeks. It matched the warmth in Eloise’s cheeks, as she tried to imagine what he would look like now, stripped of all his clothes and covered in honey. A sweet thing to behold, for sure.
“Well, if ye willnae tell tales of yer own,” Lorraine said, “we’ve got to do it for ye, or are ye determined to see how few words ye can say while ye’re sat at dinner with us? I’ve never kenned ye to be so sullen and silent, and I’ve seen ye at yer most sullen.”
Jackson scooped a hand through his tousled, red hair. “Are we nae supposed to be dinin’? When ye have dinner, ye eat, ye daenae turn it into a parade of how to get a rise out of the host.”
“And ye’re the host, are ye?” Lorraine snorted. “It’s nae wonder we rarely have gatherings, when ye’re so hospitable and charmin’.”
As the hall dipped back into a tense kind of silence, the spiced wine in Eloise’s veins decided it was time for her to make a speech. She’d have happily spent the rest of the evening laughing and joking and getting inspiration for her book with Lennox and Lorraine, but if Jackson was going to sit there and puta dampener on everything, it only seemed right to finish the dinner off with a bang.
Swaying slightly, Eloise stood and raised her cup. “I’d like to make a toast, if you’ll humor me for a minute.” She paused until the room stopped swimming. “I know I’ve not been here long and that my arrival is a bit… mysterious to you all, but you’ve all—most of you—made me feel welcome here, and for that I’m very grateful. This dinner has been the perfect end to my stay here, reminding me that, no matter where you go, there’ll always be kind people who’ll bring a smile to your face.”
“With that being said, I’ll be leaving this castle tomorrow morning, once the inevitable headache has gone away,” she continued. “I don’t want to cause any bother for any of you fine folks, so I’ll be off, never to darken your doorway again… with any luck. But I will remember you all, for a very long time, and, who knows, maybe you’ll appear in one of my books, one day. So, please raise your cups and accept my heartfelt thanks for all you’ve done to make me feel less… out of place.”
Jackson stood sharply, no cup in his hand. “I dinnae say ye could leave.”
“And I don’t need to ask for your permission.” Eloise took a pointed sip of her drink. “I’m not your prisoner, I don’t belong here, so if I want to leave, I will. And I’m doing it tomorrow. You said it yourself—if I’m going to leave, I should do it in the daylight.”
He slammed his palms down on the table, startling everyone. “Ye depart when I say ye can. We spoke of this already.”
“You’re not my Laird, Jackson. You have no hold over me, and no right to keep me from going back to where I came from,” Eloise insisted, her easy tone shifting to something much spikier. “I’m not from your clan, your country, your society, or even your… well, I’m just not from here, so there’s no reason for me to stay. I have to go back. I was always going back. There’s a lot I need to get done, and I’m running out of clean knickers.”
Jackson gestured to the Feasting Hall door. “As ye wandered into my territory, yeareunder me rule, whether ye like it or nae, and ye will obey me command or ye’ll find yerself—”
“I’ll find myself what, Jackson?” she fired back, heated now. “There are always two options with you people—you’ll either throw me in the dungeons or you’ll burn me at the stake. Maybe, you’ll feed me to those hungry wolves as an exciting wild card option. But you don’t scare me, Jackson, and I need to go home.”
To punctuate her point, she pushed her chair back and stormed toward the door, noting the awkward expressions of Lennox and Lorraine. She felt bad for bringing them into her spat with Jackson, but it wouldn’t matter by tomorrow, when she’d be sucked back through the stone to 2016. She’d just be a blip in their memory, nothing more.
But you’ll all live on, as long as I can get Harriet to agree. I promise—all of you will live on.
Heading out into the hallway beyond, trying to remember if it was a left turn or a right turn to the staircase that led to her bedroom, she slowed to a confused pace.
Before she could get her bearings, a hard force slammed into her, pushing her back against the nearest wall. Jackson loomed over her, his hand gripping the back of her head so she wouldn’t hit it on the stone, his breath ragged and furious as he glared down at her and asked, “Are ye really so intent on gettin’ yerself killed in those woods? Do ye really want to be eaten by those wolves?”
“It’s the wolf in here that I’m most concerned about,” she panted, feeling the press of his hips against her stomach. “It’s you that’ll kill me if I stay.”
And if you don’t kiss me, right now, that might kill me, too.
12
Jackson had never seen any woman look more beautiful than Eloise had done when she entered the Feasting Hall in that gown of dark, tempting red. He had struggled all the way through dinner to avoid staring at the plump flesh of her bosom, or the line of her slender neck, or the dark shade of her full, inviting lips, or the curls of her hair, begging for his hands to slide through the soft, shiny locks.
He could have endured it until the end, until she had announced that she would be leaving tomorrow. It had snapped something inside of him, stoking the flames of a fire he had been desperately trying to douse. In truth, it was very simple: he could not allow her to leave until he had doused those flameswithher. The only way to destroy temptation was to destroy the object of it, or to revel in the temptation until it lost its novelty, and as he would never hurt her, that left only one option.
“You think I’m a danger to you,” Eloise continued, her breathing shallow and frantic, stirring up the heat in his loins until he could not bear it. He wanted to hear her gasp and pant like thatin a different place—a more private place, where he could join his passionate moans with hers.
“You think of me as a nuisance and source of chaos, nothing else,” she murmured. “You want me gone, so let me be gone. I wasn’t lying when I said there was a lot I had to do, and you keeping me here is going to getmein a lot of trouble, where I’m from. So, just—”
He refused to hear another word about her leaving. He could not allow it, though he knew that her remaining in his castle would be the greatest risk of his life, and not just for his clan. For what if the temptation did not fade? What if it grew and grew, until the prospect of hereverleaving became a torture he could not endure?
Those questions swept out of his head as he caught her mouth with his, crushing his lips against hers, if only to silence her. He had not expected her to kiss him back.
There was a brief pause that allowed a surprised breath to escape from Eloise’s lips, but as she drew a breath back in, her lips met his with equal fervor. She kissed him in a way that he had never been kissed, with more passion and longing than he had ever experienced. Her mouth even began to guide the kiss, her lips undulating in a slow, fierce rhythm that made his entire body burn with need.
As her tongue slipped into his mouth, dancing with his, he realized once again that this was no ordinary woman. Nor did he want her to be.
“Is this what you really want?” she gasped, her hands running up the contours of his chest, following a path up the sides of his neck and into his hair. Her fingertips smoothed through his locks, her body pressing flush against him as she pulled his head further down, kissing him with a wildness that left him reeling.
Yet, like the wolf she had accused him of being, it released something equally wild in him. His arm encircled her waist, pulling her even closer, while his hand skimmed over the rise of her breasts. It shocked him to feel the softness beneath his palm, for he had anticipated the hard lines of stays. Instead, it felt as if she was wearing no undergarments at all beneath her dress, to restrain her bosom.
