Chapter 25
Hannah clenched her jaw, glancing up at him.
“Very well,” she whispered. “I’ll stay.”
He relaxed, shoulders dropping.
She stepped back, and he removed his arm from her waist. Almost at once, she missed the heavy, reassuring weight of it.
“What would ye like to talk about?” she asked, more stiffly than she would have liked.
Why am I acting like this? I dreamt of him coming to visit me. I dreamt of… oh, I daenae ken.
Her dreams had been confusing, tangled images of Aiden here, or at the castle, or kneeling beside her in the courtyard, staring down into her eyes. The location changed, but he never did. Not one bit.
And now he was here, and she could feel nothing but agitation.
This only leads to pain.
“Ye are angry with me,” Aiden said bluntly, watching her pace up and down. “I shouldnae have sent ye away. Would it make ye feel better to ken that I regret it?”
She closed her eyes. “Maybe a little.”
“Tell me.”
She blinked up at him. “Tell ye? Tell ye what?”
He shrugged, folding thick arms across his broad chest. “Tell me everything. Tell me why I have made ye angry. Explain what ye wished could have happened. And please, please tell me what ye want to do now.”
Silence hung between them. The air crackled with tension, a weight slowly but surely forming in Hannah’s chest. He watched her coolly, calmly, never moving forward or even speaking.
This is me moment, Hannah realized, a lump forming in her throat. Better make it count.
Clearing her throat, she glanced down at her hands, picking at the skin around her thumbs.
“When ye sent me away,” she said finally, “it made me feel small. Like a fleeting entertainment for ye.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “That wasnae me intention.”
“I ken, I ken.” She nodded tightly. “Ye didnae mean it. But even so, that’s how I felt.”
“I see.”
“I wish I could have stayed longer. I wish that we could have talked…”
“About what?”
She covered her face with her hands. “I daenae ken.”
He took a tentative step forward, placing his hands over hers and gently removing them from her face.
“I shouldnae have sent ye away,” he murmured, voice low. His eyes searched her face, looking for something. She wondered, just for an instant, what he was looking for and whether he found it. “I’m here to tell ye that, lass.”
“Th-Thank ye,” she whispered, staring up at him.
It seemed as though, if she looked away, her heart would break into a thousand pieces. Wasn’t that funny?
Gathering her strength, Hannah pulled her hands free and turned around.
“Would ye like a drink, me Laird?” she managed thickly. “We have mint tea. Or there’s milk, water…”
“Nay whiskey?”
She chuckled wryly. “Nay, actually, if ye can believe it. But ye are a guest, so if ye would like some, I can run over to a neighbor and ask…”
He took a step toward her, and the words faltered in her throat.
“I am nay guest,” he whispered, reaching out to cup her jaw and tilting her face up toward him. “I am here for ye, lassie. Here to tell ye that I regret sending ye away. And if ye let me, I will never send ye away again.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Ye daenae mean that.”
“Why would I nae mean that?”
“How do I ken I can trust ye?” she breathed. “How do I ken that ye willnae turn away from me again, once something else happens? Because ye are a laird, Aiden.”
“Am I? Hadnae noticed.”
She rolled her eyes, biting back a smile. “What I mean is that there’ll always be something. Always, there’ll be a thing that could come between us. Some strain or pressure or fear. There’ll be nay escaping it. And ye say that ye willnae leave me again?”
“Never. This past week has been like living in hell. I cannae eat properly. I cannae sleep. I cannae work, either. All I do is lounge around and drink too much whiskey.”
Hannah huffed. “I lay in bed and watched a spider spin a web on the ceiling.”
He chuckled, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers. “We’ve both been productive, then.”
She let her eyes flutter closed, leaning into his warmth.
“I daenae have to marry, ye ken,” she breathed. “I am independent. Nae many women are lucky enough to be spinsters. I can run me distillery. I daenae have to marry. And perhaps I shouldnae. Perhaps I should stay, look after Violet, and—”
“But what do ye want, Hannah?” he interrupted.
She opened her eyes slowly, peering up at him. His eyes were open too, staring down at her.
“That’s what I care about,” he continued, voice softening. “I care about ye. But what do ye want?”
Hannah swallowed hard, the lump in her throat refusing to dislodge. “Ye,” she whispered tightly. “I want ye.”
His eyes widened, just for a split second, then hunger took over his features. She barely had time to notice the change before he lunged forward, pulling her into his arms and crashing his lips onto hers.
She made a muffled sound of pleasure against his mouth, winding her arms around his shoulders in an attempt to pull him closer. He growled low in his chest, and that was the only warning she had before he swept her into his arms.
They stumbled together into her room, and he kicked the door shut with his heel. The gust of wind as he did so made the fire shiver, but the room remained pleasantly warm.
He paused, pulling his lips from hers, and glanced at the fire.
“Romantic,” he remarked.
“Violet thought I might be cold,” Hannah whispered, voice cracking.
Gently, he set her down on her feet and let his hands drift up her sides to cup her face. Her eyes fluttered shut, sinking into the sensation.
“Beautiful,” he rasped. “Ye are the most beautiful lass in the Highlands. Nay, I think ye are the most beautiful lass in the whole world.”
“Lies.” She chuckled, a slow smile spreading across her face. “All those women in the world? I cannae possibly be the most beautiful.”
He clicked his tongue. “I didnae say that ye were the most beautiful. I said that I thought ye were the most beautiful.”
She opened her eyes and glanced up at him, just in time to see his lips coming down onto hers. Tilting back her head, she relaxed her jaw, kissing him back, pressing forward with her tongue to meet his.
His hands slid down the line of her back, finding the laces of her kirtle almost immediately. Lifting her arms to loop around his neck, she let him loosen the laces until the garment hung around her. Then she dropped her arms and let him slide it off her shoulders.
The material fell heavily, pooling around her ankles and leaving her in her shift. Despite the fire, she shivered. Then she stepped back and out of the garment.
“Now ye,” she breathed.
Wordlessly, he unfastened his tunic, tugging it off without further ado and tossing it away to crumple in the corner.
She let her eyes fall on the impressive planes of his chest, covered in tufts of downy dark hair.
The hair trailed down his stomach and between the V of his hips, dipping under his waistband.
He dropped his hands to his kilt next, but then hesitated, glancing up at her. “Yer shift,” he whispered.
Hannah swallowed. Goosebumps ran up and down her body, making her shiver. There was no mistaking the heavy desire pooling in her gut. She could almost feel his hands on her already, trailing up and down her body, stroking, caressing, massaging.
Something about this intimacy would be different, she knew that already. A sort of tension rolled off Aiden’s shoulders, an anticipation that raised the hair on the back of her neck and made her shiver.
Before she could lose her nerve, Hannah tugged at her shift, pulling it ungracefully over her head. Inch by inch, her body was bared, as naked as if she were about to bathe or swim in the loch.
Tossing the shift aside, she stood as straight as she could and watched Aiden watching her.
His gaze slid over her body, jaw loosening just a little. Hunger flared in his eyes. Hannah pressed her thighs together, conscious of an aching slickness there.
“Go to bed,” he ordered thickly.
She obeyed wordlessly, resisting the urge to roll herself up in a blanket once she got there. The bed, fortunately, was made, and so she stretched out on the quilt.
Aiden approached slowly, gaze raking up and down her body. Kneeling on the bed, he bent over her, fingertips skimming her cheek. He kissed her gently, quickly, then turned his head to press his lips against her throat. A soft press against her shoulder made her lie back, closing her eyes.
His lips trailed down her body, peppering kisses down her throat and across her collarbone. Warm hands skimmed over her breasts. When he closed his lips around one nipple, Hannah gave a surprised gasp, eyes flying open. She glanced down at him, just as he glanced up, mischief dancing in his eyes.
Carefully, he laved the flat of his tongue over the bud, rolling it. Then he moved down further, to her disappointment. He kissed down the softness of her belly and paused to press his teeth against her hipbone. Not enough to hurt, just enough to leave the tiniest pink mark.
Enough to remember him by.
He skimmed a hand down the outside of her thigh, curling it around her knee. Just like before, he pulled her legs apart, and her heart skipped a beat.
He still had his kilt on, which annoyed her just a little. Propping herself up on her elbows, Hannah reached for his waistband.
“Oy, lassie,” he chided, slapping her hands away.
Curling his fingers around her wrists, he pushed her back until she lay on the quilt once more, arms up around her head. When she relaxed, he let go and moved back.
There was a kind of urgency in his movements now.
After pressing a kiss to the inside of her knee, he lowered his head and pressed his lips against her core, just like before. His fingers slid against her and inside her, and she closed her eyes, giving in to the sensation.