Trapped with the Devil of the Highlands (Falling for Highland Villains #3)

Extended Epilogue

Five Months Later

Cairn Hall glowed in the honeyed light of sunset, the river glittering beyond the diamond-hatched windows like a swathe of pure starlight, the forests and moorlands and mountains kissed with gold.

It was Paisley’s favorite time of day, every season that passed offering fresh beauty to the beautiful home she called her own. Autumn had been a burnished display of fiery majesty, winter had been crisp and white and breathtaking, and the cusp of spring was set to be the best yet, revealing a verdant vibrancy, the Highlands emerging from their hibernation in bud and bloom and new life.

“Ow!” Keira, the Lady of Clan MacAllen, hissed a breath between clenched teeth.

Amelia’s eyes flew wide. “Is it comin’? Do ye think it is time?”

“Nay, I think the wee love has their faither’s habit of kickin’ me while sleepin’,” Keira replied with a laugh, rubbing small circles on her swollen belly. “Either that or the poor thing thinks it can make more room if it breaks a rib.”

Paisley observed her with a faint tremor of anxiety, fidgeting as she asked, “Are ye excited? I bet ye cannae wait until the wee one is here.”

“It’ll be the greatest day of me life,” Keira said with a happy sigh. “I do wish the bairn would hurry along, though. I’m the size of a broodmare, and it’s nae becomin’ for folks to see their Lady waddlin’ around at a snail’s pace. Nor can I stand the pressure of ‘em all waitin’ for me to give birth. It’s a lot, let me tell ye.”

Paisley relaxed, smiling. “Ye’ll have to forgive me for me curiosity. Bein’ with child wasnae too common where I was. And I ken it has been months, but I’m still gettin’ used to the way of things. Why, I thought me eyes would pop out of me head at that solstice feast, seein’ everyone dancin’ and drinkin’ and… other things that come with both.”

Amelia clapped her hands together, a friendly laugh bubbling up her throat. “Och, but ye’ve taken to it like a duck to water! I cannae tell ye how many times Jack has returned from here, grumblin’ that he couldnae get Camden to concentrate on anythin’. All he wants to do is talk about ye and the things ye’ve implemented, and how good ye are at mollifyin’ the council. Truth be told, I think Jack wants to borrow ye for his own council, since they’re givin’ him grief about the cost of guardin’ the borders.”

“Even Murdoch is pleasant around ye,” Keira pointed out. “I reckon the only time I’ve seen the man… well… less inclined to murder someone is when ye said ye liked his leather cuffs.”

Amelia shook her head. “Nay, he was like that at her weddin’ too. I thought I was seein’ things!” She stifled a snort, her eyes flitting to the four men on the opposite side of the hall, careful to keep her voice quiet. “Honestly, before ye came along, Murdoch would’ve shooed all of us lasses out. We wouldnae have been permitted to sit in the room while they’re havin’ their Lairds’ meetin’.”

“Aye, but Camden has always been his favorite,” Keira whispered. “He pretends to disapprove, pretends to be weary of him, but they’re like squabblin’ brothers really, and I think he’s glad that Camden finally found a good lass to bring him to heel.”

Paisley blushed. “I dinnae ken about that.”

“It’s true,” Amelia insisted. “None of us have ever seen Camden like this—so content, so filled with purpose, so dedicated. He’s lucky to have found ye.”

Paisley shook her head slowly. “I’m the lucky one.”

She let her gaze drift to her beloved, her heart leaping as their eyes met. Camden was clearly supposed to be listening to whatever the other three Lairds were talking about, but his attention did not waver from her. A sly smile curved his lips which Paisley returned.

“Camden?” Murdoch growled. “Are ye listenin’?”

Camden glanced up at his fellow laird. “Actually, nay, I’m nae. We’re talkin’ in circles about things we’ve talked in circles about for an age. I say we retire, we come back tomorrow with fresh minds and start our circlin’ again. Yer dronin’ is makin’ me dizzy.”

Murdoch turned purple, his mouth opening and closing with silent fury at Camden’s cavalier dismissal of the meeting. A pinch of guilt caught Paisley between the ribs, worried that she might have been the cause of her husband’s distraction.

“Honestly, I couldnae agree more,” Noah chimed in. “I ought to take me wife to her chambers. Sorry, Murdoch.”

Jack shrugged. “I’m nae goin’ to argue either. Me mind is wrung out.”

“I rue the day any one of ye got married. It’s like herdin’ greased piglets,” Murdoch muttered, storming out with a dark cloud over his head.

Grazing his teeth over his lower lip, Camden got to his feet and beckoned for Paisley to come to him.

Heart racing with the thrill that just a look from Camden could stir inside her, Paisley made her excuses to the other two ladies and made her way to her ridiculously handsome, perpetually alluring husband. She doubted the excitement would ever wear away, every private encounter between them both familiar and new, his carnal creativity knowing no bounds.

“I hope ye realize that Murdoch is goin’ to strangle ye in yer sleep one of these days,” Paisley said quietly as Camden’s arm wrapped around her, ushering her out of the room.

Camden chuckled. “Why do ye think I gave ye that knife? If he comes for me while I’m sleepin’ at yer side, ye can get him first.” He kissed the top of her head. “But enough about Murdoch. I need to get his voice out of me head. And I’ve got just the idea—somethin’ I’ve been meanin’ to try for a very long time.”

“Are ye goin’ to enlighten me?” Paisley asked, butterflies fluttering wildly in her stomach.

He bent his head and nipped her earlobe. “Where would be the surprise in that?”

***

The blindfold over Paisley’s eyes offered no glimpse of anything, stealing away one sense to heighten the others.

They were in Camden’s study, deep below ground, her bare skin keenly aware of the tickle of the sheepskin rug beneath her and the heat of the nearby fire. She heard the crackle of the logs and the rush of Camden’s breath, hot against her skin.

Running her fingertips up his powerful arms and over his back, smoothing them down to his pert backside, it was akin to learning everything about her husband all over again. And when she stole a kiss, a taste, his mouth was sweet with the spiced wine they had shared.

He was teasing her, strumming his fingertips and rolling his tongue over the bundle of nerves that never failed to make her pleasure explode. Just as she was getting close, he paused, letting the sensation ebb a little before he continued—a breathtaking rise and fall of promised ecstasy.

“I need ye, love,” she panted. “Touch me again.”

He laughed softly. “I will.”

“Now, love,” she urged. “I need ye now.”

“Och, we mustnae rush,” he purred, coaxing a gasp from her throat as she suddenly felt hard, hot flesh at the entrance to her sex.

She bucked, trying to draw him in, but he would not let her, his fingertips returning to their expert teasing of her sensitive bud.

She could feel him listening, and she made certain he understood, her breaths sawing in and out of her, her moans growing louder as her pleasure built once more to that powerful conclusion. All the while, his manhood pressed against her opening, never pushing past the threshold, holding back.

“Oh!” she cried out as her bliss took flight. “Aye… oh, love!”

He plunged into her, taking that intense wave of ecstasy and turning it into a thrashing ocean of pleasure, and she was the slick rocks, taking every pounding of that bliss with eager delight.

She writhed and bucked on the sheepskin rug, raking her fingernails down his muscular back as he buried himself to the hilt and drew back again, slow and measured and delicious in the magic it wreaked on her remaining senses.

As her climax ebbed, his every thrust ignited fresh sparks and thrumming wavelets, until her head swam and her body was alight with the glow of pleasure.

All in the darkness, all without being able to look upon the face and figure of the husband she loved with all her heart. She would have minded if she had not known that, after this, they would make love again, gazing at one another.

This was just the titillating prelude to a night of pleasure.

“Och, I love ye,” Camden growled, his thrusts quickening as he gave in to his own need.

“I love ye more,” she teased, sliding her hands over his buttocks, urging him to move faster, to thrust harder, to make her feel every bit of him.

“Dinnae make me punish ye for lyin’,” he said, with a smile in his voice.

She bit her lip. “Maybe I want ye to.”

“Och, what a lucky man I am,” he moaned, holding nothing back.

She called his name louder and louder, spurring him on, her entire being shuddering with him as he finally reached his own conclusion. He thrust hard into her and stilled, his hot seed spilling into her depths, prompting her to wrap her legs around him and lock him there, holding him and his pleasure as close as she could. Savoring it.

There was no feeling like it, and though it had been five months, she still could not get enough of knowing that she gave him as much bliss as he gave to her.

He ground his hips for a few seconds, letting her feel the final throbs of his manhood, and scooped her into his arms. He rocked back onto his haunches, carrying her with him, and moved his legs so that she was sitting in his lap beside the still-crackling fire.

“I must’ve saved Scotland in a former life,” he murmured, pulling the blindfold off her eyes. “There’s nay other way I could be so lucky.”

She blinked at the sudden light, her mouth softening into a smile as she kissed him.

“Truly,” he whispered, “I dinnae think I could get any happier. Life doesnae get better than this—bein’ with ye, lovin’ ye, holdin’ ye, feelin’ ye.”

She pulled back, brushing the dark hair from his face. “I bet that’s nae true. I bet ye could be happier.”

“Nay, it’s nae possible,” he insisted, grinning. “I’m the happiest man who ever lived.”

Drawing in an anxious breath, cradling the back of his neck, she finally decided to reveal the secret she had been carrying for a couple of weeks, trying to find the right moment.

“Then ye willnae be bothered to hear that, in some months, ye’ll be a faither as well as a husband.”

“What?” Camden held her tighter, his eyes searching her face. “What did ye just say?”

She smiled. “I’m with child, love.”

“Are ye sure?”

She nodded. “I’m sure.”

For a tense moment, she did not know how he was going to react. They had spoken of it, of course, and he had always insisted that it was something he wanted, but she could not be reassured until she saw him smile.

All of a sudden, he let out a giddy yell of joy, hugging her tightly to him, burying his face in her neck.

“I’m goin’ to be a faither.” He kissed her shoulder. “Och, love, ye were right—now, I’m the happiest man who ever lived.”

She melted into his embrace and smiled against his neck, feeling the vibrations of his joy thrumming with hers. And as they held each other, she hoped that the child growing inside her could feel it—how loved they would be, and how loved they already were.

“And I’m the happiest woman who ever lived,” she whispered, grateful beyond belief that she had escaped the convent when she had.

With that one leap of faith, she had found everything she had ever wanted.

The End.