Chapter 17 #2
His gaze seemed to take in her whole face but settled on her lips.
Abby couldn’t stop her body from leaning toward him if she tried, and she didn’t bother trying. She knew he wanted to kiss her, and blast it all, she wanted to kiss him. Her eyes began to close, but he let her go.
“The horse is lame,” he said.
“Lame?”
“Aye, it means he can’t be ridden anymore.”
Abby frowned. She was sure he wanted to kiss her, and she was even more sure she would have let him. “I know what lame means,” she snapped.
Her bottom lip dropped, and she turned away so he wouldn’t see her pout.
Feeling a little silly at her reaction, Abby hurried to the fire Iain had built.
She let the warmth soak into her cold skin and relaxed somewhat, but her mind wouldn’t stop reminding her how much she’d wanted him to take her into his arms and kiss her.
She also kept wondering why he hadn’t taken the opportunity.
Surely if he wanted to kiss her, that would have been the perfect time to do it.
Maybe. Was she wrong? It wouldn’t be the first time.
***
Iain tarried with the horse while Abigail warmed herself by the fire. He glanced her way but took a second, longer look when he realized her eyes were shut. She was frowning, and he wondered what she was thinking . . . if she was thinking about how close they had come to kissing . . . again.
He shook his head. He had to control his actions around her all the time.
He didn’t know why he’d stopped her from walking past him, but just touching her arm had his mind whirling and all logical thought seemed to fly away.
He had stepped forward, and without conscious thought, he’d intended to kiss her, but the snap of a branch under his boot pulled him back to reality.
He didn’t know if he was thankful for that or not, but he had to acknowledge it was for the best. She would soon go back to her family, and he, too, would return to his family and responsibilities.
He decided then and there, his first responsibility would be to tell Laird MacKinnon, he would not be marrying his daughter.
Even if he couldn’t have a future with Abigail, he knew he didn’t want one with Fiona.
Abigail lifted her face to the sun. The sun shining on her bronze hair made Iain’s chest tighten, and when she smiled at the sky, an ache he had never felt before shot through his heart.
He snapped his gaze from her to the horse. He had to find her treasure and return her to her family before he did something he couldn’t undo.
When he thought she’d had enough time to rest, he tapped her on the shoulder. “Time to go.”
She screwed up her nose at him but smiled and got to her feet.
He had no choice but to leave the horse, hoping someone would find it and nurse it back to health.
He decided they would have to make their way through the forest. It would be a harder walk, but safer than the roads. As they trudged up a slight rise, he hoped walking would exhaust him and he would finally be able to get some sleep that night.
He was finding it increasingly harder to stay away from the lass.
She was not only beautiful, but she was stronger than she looked.
Not too many lasses would have endured what she had since she’d met him, especially ones of high breeding.
She never complained. A grin spread over his face.
Well, hardly ever, but that was in the beginning, and he understood it was only because her body ached with the abuse it had been subjected to as she rode the horse.
They were three days out of Rum, and a thought crossed Iain’s mind that he could stray off course without the lass’s knowledge. His family and clan had almost certainly given him up for dead by now. They would already be adjusting to a life without their laird.
He glanced at Abigail. He wanted to spend more time with her.
He knew she was keeping secrets, and although he wanted nothing more in the world than to have her trust him enough to tell him such confidences, he had no right to demand she share them.
After all, not only were they from two different worlds—him, a Highlander, and she a wealthy American—but they would soon part, him to go home and resume his duties as laird of his clan, and her, back to America.
No. He had to keep his distance, and the only way to do that was to get to Rum and send her to her family.
A shooting pain sliced through his heart at the thought of her boarding a coach and leaving him behind.
The crack of a branch snapping pulled him out of his reverie, and he glanced back.
How he hadn’t noticed before that moment, he didn’t know, but Abigail sounded like a herd of horses crashing through the undergrowth.
Iain stopped and whispered when she got close enough. “Ye must try to walk more softly. Look where ye place your feet and don’t stand on dry sticks or branches.”
Abigail narrowed her eyes and Iain thought she was going to argue with him, but she said, “Okay, then, I’ll try.”
Their pace had slowed somewhat, but having asked Abigail to be careful, he couldn’t possibly ask her to now hurry.
As they walked, Iain couldn’t get visions of kissing her from his mind.
His logical side knew he had to keep his distance.
It was his duty as laird to strengthen his clan, and to that end, he must marry Fiona MacKinnon, but his heart, his body, wanted nothing more than to be with the strange girl clomping through the undergrowth, to hear her laugh.
He glanced back. She seemed to be concentrating on placing her feet. She was trying so hard to be quiet but also to keep up her pace. She didn’t want to slow him down, and he smiled.
He suspected she was used to a lady’s life and that she’d never traveled so hard for so long.
But she was a fighter. He saw that in the way she tried to protect the MacDonald women, the way she wouldn’t give up on him when he was feverish, the way she swallowed her fear and pain and rode the horse for as long as she did.
She was something special, and Iain needed to know more about her.
As soon as the path widened, he held back and walked beside her.
“Tell me more about yer family. Is it a hard life in America?”
“No, not hard, exactly, just different. We have nice houses, but we all work for them. There are no royals or gentry. We are all equal, um, some more equal than others, of course. And while the last election was close, we still have a male president.”
“As it should be.”
“What? Why?”
“Men are stronger. It is their place to protect, fight for their families, their clans.” A picture of his ma came to mind, and he chuckled. “Of course, that is how it seems on the outside, but I know from experience it is not always the men who rule.”
Abigail smiled. “Oh? How so?”
“Some women, like my mother, are too strong to be suppressed. My father not only loved my mother, but he listened to her counsel above all others.”
“Your father sounds like he was a sensible man.”
“Either sensible or henpecked.”
Abigail stopped and peered at him. “Sensible,” she said as if there were no argument.
Iain laughed. “Aye.”
That night, Iain stretched out in their makeshift bed and gazed at the stars.
It was a wonderous night, still cold enough that he once again risked a fire, but for some reason, the ground felt more comfortable, the stars were brighter, and the moon’s glow shone on Abigail’s locks whenever he chanced a glance her way.
The lass was also looking up at the sky. “It’s so beautiful when it’s not raining.”
Iain ignored the lass’s habit of complaining about the rain. “Aye. I haven’t been to America, but I’ve traveled through Europe, and the further south I went, the sky seemed to drift higher. The stars here are so close, I sometimes think I can pluck them from the sky.”
“I admit I find the life here hard, but I will miss it when I leave.”
A jolt shot through him at her mention of leaving.
He didn’t want her to go. He wanted to stay with her as long as he could, to learn her ways, to understand her.
The thought crossed his mind he could go to America.
He silently snorted. No. In another time and another place, he might have had that choice, but his role was decided for him at the moment of his birth.
He had to stay to lead and protect his clan.
Images of the keep, his sister, and his friends flitted across his mind, and he knew then he would never leave Scotland.
He sat up and looked at Abigail, still watching the night sky.
“Even had I the choice, I wouldna want to live anywhere else.”
Her bottom lip dropped, parting her lips, and she let out a soft sigh.
That was Iain’s undoing. He rolled over to his side and scooped her up in his arms, and before she had a chance to object, he brushed his lips over hers. She gasped in surprise, not fright. She didn’t pull away.
He kept kissing her, and she wrapped her hands around his neck.
His heart jumped into his throat at her acquiescence.
The kiss was deep and long, and Iain had to fist his hands in her cloak to stop them from roaming where they shouldn’t.
He kept kissing her until a moan from deep in her throat sparked in his brain.
He knew then he could take her, but he also knew he couldn’t let his base emotions rule him. He was a ruler; he was stronger than that. She pulled back, but only far enough to nibble at his bottom lip. Another moan sounded, but this time, it was from deep within his chest, and he held her tighter.
She gazed up into his eyes.
Heated passion whirled in her stormy eyes, and he answered, bending his head to kiss her again, but hesitated.
She wriggled closer to him, giving him consent to continue, yet although he wanted her physically, he realized at that moment, if he continued, he would never let her go.
He would follow her to the ends of the earth just to taste her full pink lips.
He wanted more. He wanted her heart, her soul, her everything.
But he couldn’t have any of those things without knowing what secrets she harbored.
He let her go and stood up.
Staring down at her large confused eyes, he said, “We have to talk.”
She closed her eyes and bit her lip. “Now?”
As Iain persuaded the fire to intensify, Abigail drew her cloak and the blankets around her shoulders.
She gazed into the fire. “So, what do you want to talk about?”
“We cannae have a relationship with secrets between us.”
She snapped her head up and stared at him. “A relationship?”
Iain balked. Had he misread her emotions? Had she just wanted a physical dalliance? Didnae she want a relationship with him?
He couldn’t say anything. He just stared into the fire, wondering how he could have gotten everything so wrong.
Perching on a rock close to his legs, Abigail pulled down on his kilt. “Sit down.”
Like a man possessed of little brain, he did so, but he didn’t take his eyes off the dancing flames.
Abigail let out a long, loud breath. “I do have a secret, Iain, but I don’t know if you are strong enough to hear it.”
His back stiffened, and he glared at her. How dare she question his strength, his manhood?
“Don’t get weird on me. I meant the secret is something so, um, out of this world, I doubt anyone in Scotland at this time would be able to handle it.” Her eyes widened. “Hang on, you said we both have secrets. You tell me yours first, and I just might tell you mine.”
Still trying to make out what she said in the first instance, Iain raised his eyebrows. “What do ye mean by ‘Scotland at this time’?”
“Don’t change the subject.” She smiled. “What’s your secret?”
Her perfect smile shot straight to his heart, and he knew if she was to leave him, his heart would never feel that way again. He had to tell her the truth and hope she wouldn’t think less of him.
“I am to wed.”
She reared back. “What? You’re engaged and yet you still kissed me, tried to make out with me?”
“Make out what?”
“Never mind, but you did kiss me. More than once, I might add.”
Iain hanged his head unable to meet her angry eyes. She was right, he was a cad. “I am not affianced, but I am expected to wed the daughter of our neighboring clan, the MacKinnons.”