Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Lachlan lay on his back, half-asleep, running his hand idly along Innes’ bare shoulders as she dozed beside him.
He had woken a few moments earlier, and, while he knew well that the Keep should be tended to, it was hard for him to muster any enthusiasm for the task when her sweet, soft body rested so peacefully against his.
“Good morning, my Laird,” Innes murmured sleepily, lifting her head from his chest and tracing her fingertips over his jaw.
He grinned. The two of them had scarcely been able to contain themselves on the ride back to the Keep, but it had been worth the wait; the two of them tumbled into bed together and practically tore at each other’s clothes as soon as they had the chance.
They had slept peacefully, tangled in one another, her pressed to his chest as though he never wanted to let her go.
“Good morning,” he responded, as he let his hand stray a little lower on her body, dipping beneath the covers playfully.
She smirked slightly, propping her chin in her hand as she watched him.
“Perhaps I could tempt you to forget about yer duties today,” she said hopefully. “We could spend the day in yer chambers.”
“Hmm,” he pondered. “As tempting as it is, dear wife, the matters of the Keep will not attend to themselves.”
“So I suppose I’d have to be very convincing in my argument, then.” Her eyes flickered with excitement.
“I suppose you would.”
She slid on top of him, her soft, warm shape in the morning light near angelic.
He ran his hands along her waist and to her hips, guiding her so that she was straddling him.
The two were still naked from the night before, and when the covers fell back from her, he could feel himself stirring once again.
“Does this do anything to convince ye?” she asked, her voice low and sultry as she took his hands and guided them towards her breasts.
He groaned as he felt her soft flesh give beneath his fingertips and drew her down for a kiss as his manhood rose against the crease of her thigh.
She tangled her hands in his hair as they kissed, and he could feel the grin on her face, a sure sign of how much she was enjoying his attentions.
He could think of little better than waking to find his wife so willing and ready to distract him; she circled her hips against him playfully, sending a wash of want through his body as he responded to her elegant ministrations.
Pulling back, she reached between her legs to guide him towards her.
Neither could wait long till they came together like this, their bodies aching for one another in ways that defied reason and sense.
When they were apart, everything else felt distant, like it belonged to another life entirely.
He watched as she pressed him to her warmth, and then, with a slight gasp, she lowered herself down on top of him to envelop him entirely.
He breathed in deeply, gripping her hips to keep her in place so he could savor the sensation of her body against his.
Her nails raked at his chest as he sank back to the bed, and a small smile tugged at her lips as she watched his reaction.
She clearly enjoyed these moments, these moments where she had such complete and utter control of him, as few and far between as they were.
And, slowly, he guided her hips against him; first in circles and then back and forth, feeling every inch of her most intimate place as she rocked herself against him.
“I could nae take my eyes off ye if even I wanted tae, Innes.”
Not just her face, but every inch of her body and how it responded to such pleasure. It seemed she could scarcely contend with it, the way it made her feel, her eyes growing hazy as her hands raked against him.
He began to move up and inside her, thrusting deeper with every motion, needing her in ways that he could not put into words and so had to show in any way he could.
“Lachlan, please…”
He could hear her breath growing faster now, every part of her narrowing to this sensation of the two of them coming together over and over again.
“Give it to me, Innes. Come for me.”
He listened as the heat of her desire overwhelmed her and her body sank into the pleasure at last.
“Oh,” she groaned against his lips, her voice cracking around the edges as her body tensed around him.
He savored it, the feeling of her gifting him with that pleasure. “I shall always cherish this with you.”
He wished he could burn it into his memory, the sensation of her like this, the sounds she made as she gave in to what they found when they were alone together.
But a moment later, he felt himself tip over the edge as well, any attempt to hang on to control lost as his body spasmed against hers.
“I love ye, Lachlan.”
He drove himself into her one last time and felt himself stiffen as the pulsations of pleasure poured through him like rain into a river, coming together with the flow till there was nothing left but the way she made him feel.
He clasped his hands around her back, holding her steady as she caught her breath. By the time that she drew back, her cheeks were flushed and her body was trembling from the sheer extent of their shared passion.
But it did not last long, as a knock sounded at the door that nearly sent her jumping out of her skin. Lachlan drew her off him gently, draping the covers around her so she would not be exposed, and called out.
“Aye?”
“Laird Fraser?” Keith’s voice filtered through the door. He seemed to have the good sense to keep his distance, given what he had no doubt heard from within upon his approach.
“The envoy fae Inverness has arrived in the village,” he called out. “If you want those trading papers signed by the end of the day, ye’ll have to attend to him now.”
Innes sat up, clutching the sheets around her, her bottom lip slightly extended in a playful pout. His certainty wavered; as much as he knew he had his duties to attend to, it was hard for him to think of anything else when she looked at him like that.
“The lady could attend too, if ye’d like,” Keith continued from outside the door, probably sensing what might be taking him so long to respond. “There’s a flower market in the village today, perhaps she’d like to visit.”
Lachlan pushed a hand through his hair, muttering a curse beneath his breath.
He wanted her there, where he could keep an eye on her to make sure she wouldn’t get herself into any trouble.
But when he saw the look on her face, her hands clasped against her chest, he knew that he would not get away with such an excuse.
“Please, Lachlan?” she asked, biting her lip. “I promise I’ll behave.”
He shook his head, grinning slightly. He knew he had already lost the battle.
“I’ll hold ye to that, ye ken.”
And, as he closed the distance between them for another kiss, he knew that there was nobody he would rather have had at his side than her.
The ride to the village was swift and bright.
The sunshine poured through the trees around them and dappled the road as the horses picked their way across the well-trodden path.
Innes, her arms wrapped around Lachlan, was glad to be able to take in the beauty of the scenery that surrounded them.
On her ride there the night before, she had been so distracted by the thought of what Lachlan might have been doing, how Isobel might have already convinced him to give up on her, that she had hardly had a chance to drink it in.
But now, she knew he loved her.
As hard as it had been for her to believe when she had heard the words coming out of his mouth, he loved her. He truly did. She could think of nothing more important in the world than that, than how it made her feel.
As he helped her down from the horse, the scent of him filled her senses for a moment, and she was almost dizzy with the thrill of it, of knowing he was hers.
“You should go to the market,” he told her, nodding to the handful of stalls that had been set up at the far end of the street. “I must meet wi’ the envoy, I willnae be long.”
“I’ll see you soon.” She dropped a kiss on his cheek.
He eyed her for a moment, and she raised her eyebrows at him.
“Do you truly no’ trust me?” she laughed. “Go! I told ye, I’ll keep myself out of trouble.”
He shook his head. Grinning, he finally made his way to meet the envoy and left her to explore on her own.
She was glad he seemed to have put some trust in her now, and she intended to do all she could to prove that it was not misplaced.
After all, the two of them had come to an understanding last night, even if she had needed to follow him in secret to reach it.
The sunny air warmed her skin as she wandered down towards the market, where stalls were laden with the last of the summer flowers, along with a few dried bouquets for the harvest season still to come.
For a while, she lost herself to the bustle around her, the sound of people bartering and chatting over the stalls.
She had no intent of buying anything herself, but she admired the skilled hands that had bound complementary flowers together with twine, the pastels of bluebells and violets soft against the vibrant colors of marigolds and tulips.
The mesh of scents in the air seemed so full of life, of possibility, of the seasons still to come, and, as she leaned down to smell one of the bouquets, she could not keep the smile off her face.
“A fine choice, my Lady,” the merchant told her, his eyes twinkling from amongst a crow’s-foot of wrinkles. She straightened up.
“They’re beautiful,” she remarked. “It must be hard raising such marigolds in the temperatures here.”
“Ye’d be surprised,” the man revealed. “Plenty thrives in these parts. Including you, if I may say so, my Lady.”
She laughed, feeling a slight flush rise to her cheeks.
“Donald!” an older woman scolded him as she emerged from beneath the stall. “Dinnae speak to our new Lady in such a fashion.”
“It’s alright,” Innes assured her. “I dinnae mind.”
“Well, if I can add,” the woman told her, bowing her head slightly. “It’s wonderful to see the Laird with such a fine woman at his side. Especially one with such an affinity fer flowers!”
They talked about the blooms for a while longer, and she drifted on to the next stall, their words dancing around her mind. She could never have expected that she would find such kindness here, such acceptance.
Just then movement caught her eye somewhere in the corner of her vision.
The stalls were so crowded with people that, for a moment, she thought she must have imagined the recognition, but when she lifted her head, something in her chest tensed.
A woman standing amongst the rush of people, her hood drawn low—and on such a beautiful day, there was no reason for her to disguise herself unless there was reason to fear being recognized.
Innes could not make out much about her, the enormous cloak seemingly intended to obscure every detail that might have identified her—not so much as a strand of hair broke loose from beneath it.
But still, there was something about the way she stood that made Innes’ blood run cold. There was something about her that she recognized, but she would rather not entertain the possibility. No, this must have been someone else, someone who had simply come to attend the flower market, someone who—
Suddenly, a hand closed on her shoulder, and she nearly leapt out of her skin. Whipping around, she let out a breath of relief when she realized that it was just Lachlan, a smile on his face as he greeted her.
“Managed to stay out of trouble, eh?” he asked her playfully.
She nodded, doing her best to brush off the sudden rush of suspicion that had consumed her for a moment.
“Well, you deserve a reward fer that.”
He held aloft a bouquet of flowers, the very same one that she had been admiring earlier; bluebells and violets, the delicate blues and purples practically glowing in the sunlight. She laughed as she took it from him, raising her eyebrows.
“Did you see me admiring these?”
“I might have.”
“How long have you been watching me, exactly?”
“Long enough to see how my subjects look at you,” he murmured, lifting a hand to her cheek and skimming his thumb against her face. “With respect. Admiration, even.”
She leaned forward to plant a grateful kiss on his cheek.
Not just for the flowers, but his kind words, too.
Every day that passed, it felt like she was rooting herself into this role more and more; as his wife, as the Lady of this clan, as a woman who deserved the respect of the people she was meant to represent.
“Come,” he remarked, slipping his hand into hers. “Tell me more about these flowers.”
As he led her towards one of the stalls, she followed behind but cast one last look over her shoulder to see if the cloaked woman was still nearby. But, as quickly as she seemed to have appeared, she had vanished.
Perhaps she had been nothing more than a figment of her imagination. With her hand in his, it was easy to believe that she had been nothing more than fiction.
Even if, somewhere, at the back of her mind, something warned her it was closer to fact than she’d have cared to contend with.