Read Online MacKinnons' Hope: A Highland Christmas Carol by Tanya Anne Crosby - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tanya Anne Crosby
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neighboring clans. Nay, for they were at peace now, had been so for more than ten years. It was more the fact that it left a perfect hiding space in full view of their village. Yesterday he’d examined the burn line, and the fire seemed to have halted in a perfectly straight line, as though its boundaries had been set beforehand. This, and something about the quality of the air left Malcom ill at ease. No matter what his Da believed, it had little to do with the company they were keeping—strangers though many might be.
Something was amiss.
With or without his father’s blessings, Malcom intended to discover what it was. At twilight, when the darkening sky descended into the treetops and the fire’s glow swallowed the light of the sun, he slipped into the woods, leaving the sound of music and laughter in his wake. As Glenna had said he must do, he let intuition be his guide…
Chapter 5
“ I ain , mo dhuine …”
My man.
His Scot’s tongue flowed like honey from his wife’s lips. He placed a finger to her mouth. “Shhhh, my love.”
At thirty-one, Page was scant older than he’d been on the day he’d met her, but her hair had yet to show a hint of gray. She still looked like a maiden. The only lines she wore on her face were the laugh lines about those lovely lips—sweet, bonny lips that had pleasured him so verra well throughout their years.
“Iain,” she complained as he drew her into the stable. “We have guests, my love.” Still, her lips curved a bit mischievously and she reached down to plant her soft hand against the back of his. But instead of slapping him away, she merely caressed him, her eyes hooding with desire.
“I’ve a craving for plums,” he teased.
“ Céadsearc ,” she said. My first love. And her answering smile made Iain’s heart trip a beat. “You’ll find no plums beneath my skirt,” she chastised.
He pulled his wife close, his cock hardening beneath his plaid. “I disagree … for that is where I will find the most delicious plum of all.”
She didn’t fight him, so he drew her against him, whispering softly, “I have dreamt endlessly of that plum, the delightful taste, the tantalizing scent. I long to sink my teeth into that tender flesh, and lift my tongue along the cleft…”
Page shivered in his arms, and he knew by the way she melted against his embrace that his fingers would find her ready and wet. And yet, even as he rediscovered the treasure he sought, the silky feel of her body sent a violent shudder through him.
He was no longer a boy, she no longer a girl, but she was as beautiful as she was the day he first saw her, dressed in naught more than a flimsy chemise, her hair sopping wet. He loved her more fiercely now than he ever did before. Page—his heart, his only love—had given him years of loyalty and love, a daughter with a smile as beauteous as her own. She treated Malcom as though he were her very own, and his clan with every bit of affection as Iain did himself. They could not have been anymore blessed in his choice of bride. In truth, Iain would give Page anything in his power—anything at all, but alas, there was only one thing she ever asked for of late… and that he could not provide.
A reunion with her father.
“No one will miss us,” he coaxed. “Constance and Kellen have everyone’s attention, as it should be.” His shaft nestled happily against the crook of his wife’s thighs, lifting of its own accord to her most delicate place. “On the other hand, you have my undivided attention.” He sent a hand to her bottom, pressing his arousal fully against her, so as to make his point.
Her eyes widened and so did his grin.
Page laughed. “You are insatiable,” she complained, although she lifted herself on tiptoes to kiss his mouth, automatically sliding her arms about his waist.
As she had done only seconds before, Iain melted against his wife, as subject to her wiles as she was to his. But then suddenly she put a hand to
Something was amiss.
With or without his father’s blessings, Malcom intended to discover what it was. At twilight, when the darkening sky descended into the treetops and the fire’s glow swallowed the light of the sun, he slipped into the woods, leaving the sound of music and laughter in his wake. As Glenna had said he must do, he let intuition be his guide…
Chapter 5
“ I ain , mo dhuine …”
My man.
His Scot’s tongue flowed like honey from his wife’s lips. He placed a finger to her mouth. “Shhhh, my love.”
At thirty-one, Page was scant older than he’d been on the day he’d met her, but her hair had yet to show a hint of gray. She still looked like a maiden. The only lines she wore on her face were the laugh lines about those lovely lips—sweet, bonny lips that had pleasured him so verra well throughout their years.
“Iain,” she complained as he drew her into the stable. “We have guests, my love.” Still, her lips curved a bit mischievously and she reached down to plant her soft hand against the back of his. But instead of slapping him away, she merely caressed him, her eyes hooding with desire.
“I’ve a craving for plums,” he teased.
“ Céadsearc ,” she said. My first love. And her answering smile made Iain’s heart trip a beat. “You’ll find no plums beneath my skirt,” she chastised.
He pulled his wife close, his cock hardening beneath his plaid. “I disagree … for that is where I will find the most delicious plum of all.”
She didn’t fight him, so he drew her against him, whispering softly, “I have dreamt endlessly of that plum, the delightful taste, the tantalizing scent. I long to sink my teeth into that tender flesh, and lift my tongue along the cleft…”
Page shivered in his arms, and he knew by the way she melted against his embrace that his fingers would find her ready and wet. And yet, even as he rediscovered the treasure he sought, the silky feel of her body sent a violent shudder through him.
He was no longer a boy, she no longer a girl, but she was as beautiful as she was the day he first saw her, dressed in naught more than a flimsy chemise, her hair sopping wet. He loved her more fiercely now than he ever did before. Page—his heart, his only love—had given him years of loyalty and love, a daughter with a smile as beauteous as her own. She treated Malcom as though he were her very own, and his clan with every bit of affection as Iain did himself. They could not have been anymore blessed in his choice of bride. In truth, Iain would give Page anything in his power—anything at all, but alas, there was only one thing she ever asked for of late… and that he could not provide.
A reunion with her father.
“No one will miss us,” he coaxed. “Constance and Kellen have everyone’s attention, as it should be.” His shaft nestled happily against the crook of his wife’s thighs, lifting of its own accord to her most delicate place. “On the other hand, you have my undivided attention.” He sent a hand to her bottom, pressing his arousal fully against her, so as to make his point.
Her eyes widened and so did his grin.
Page laughed. “You are insatiable,” she complained, although she lifted herself on tiptoes to kiss his mouth, automatically sliding her arms about his waist.
As she had done only seconds before, Iain melted against his wife, as subject to her wiles as she was to his. But then suddenly she put a hand to
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