Chapter Eighteen
Emma and Morgan arrived at the healing hut at the same time. He was doing fine moving by himself with a slight limp.
“Ye are doing well, Morgan,” Emma said with a smile.
“’Tis because I am a warrior. We doona let small injuries trouble us.”
Emma grinned. “A small injury?” She stepped through the door that Morgan held open for her. “Men in good physical form as well as young lads and lasses usually recover more quickly than others from injuries.”
Morgan closed the door to the empty hut and smirked. “So now ye are comparing me to a bairn?”
She felt a flush crawl up her face. “Nay, that is no’ what I meant.”
He wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her to his body, his eyes growing darker. “Can I remind ye I am no’ a bairn?”
For a long moment she looked back at him. Her heart thumped at his words and she licked her lips. Then she gave him a slow nod.
He took her face in his large hand and held it gently. “I doona ken what ye do to me, Emma the healer.” He lowered his head and covered her warm, moist lips with his.
Her calm was shattered by the heat and hunger of his kiss. She’d had a stolen kiss or two from other men, who had hoped for a quick tup, which had ended with her pushing them back and fleeing.
She had no intention of fleeing from Laird Morgan Gunn. His lips continued to softly caress hers, then became demanding and hungry. He pulled her closer until her breasts pressed so hard against his chest she was certain he could hear her heartbeat. Or was that his heartbeat?
She returned his kiss with reckless abandonment. His tongue nudged her lips open. Thanks to his previous kisses, she knew what that meant and how it made her feel and opened to him.
He swept in, touching all the sensitive places in her mouth; she heard a moan and she was sure it had come from her.
Morgan kissed the soft skin under her ear. “Ye are a beautiful woman, Emma.”
Suddenly he pulled back and looked intently into her eyes. He retreated and his eyes shuttered. “We must prepare to leave if we’re going to Clyth Castle in the morning.”
Confused by his actions, she stared at him for a moment, then merely nodded as she attempted to calm down her body’s reaction to his kiss, and her emotional reaction to his sudden withdrawal. Her body and her mind were spinning.
He stepped back and headed to his bed, then turned and grinned.
A very tight grin, she noticed. “I guess I have nothing to prepare since all I have is a few pieces of donated clothing, and my sword, which I arranged to have Aaron sharpen. I also asked him to make two sgian dubhs. One for each of us.”
Emma had to actually shake her head to make sense out of what he said. Her heart was still pounding and there was an unfamiliar dampness in the area between her legs. “Aye”—deep breath—“aye, I’m sure Aaron will do a good job.”
Then she decided she would ask him the question that she couldn’t shake. “Why did ye ask the laird for me to return with ye to Clyth Castle if ye kenned he would demand marriage first?”
He sat on his cot and reached out his hand. “Come here, Emma.”
She moved stiffly toward him and took his hand, feeling the calluses caused by his sword and warrior training against her soft healer’s skin. “What?”
“As my healer, I trust ye to finish the job ye started. Before I left Clyth Castle, the healer had married one of the warriors from another clan and moved with him.”
“Aye,” she mumbled. Her heart ached with the truth of his intentions. “And since I am yer healer, ye want to drag me with ye, even if it means ye have to shackle yerself to me.”
He dropped her hand and watched as she turned and left the hut.
*
Morgan rubbed his eyes with his index finger and thumb.
Had it been a mistake to agree to the laird’s demand that they marry first if she was to accompany him home? There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted her.
He’d not only thought about her during the day, but had very erotic dreams at night that involved a great deal of touching, kissing, caressing, and plunging into her moist tightness. He was breaking out in a sweat just remembering some of those dreams.
Aside from her very strong appeal that kept him hard almost all the time, she was strong, helpful, kind, and smart. Who wouldn’t want a wife like that?
St. Martha’s toes, he needed to get his mind off that track. It would be too dangerous for him to become smitten with the lass and forget the troubles he was most likely facing.
They would marry, he would bed her, and they would be off. Once his lust for her had been satisfied, he could concentrate on his new responsibilities.
The sun had moved across the sky by the time Emma came back to the healing hut.
Janet had been in and out and when he asked her about the missing healer, she’d shrugged and said she didn’t know where she was, but that she had everything under control, so if he needed anything, she would be more than happy to help.
While Morgan waited, Enoch had returned with his sword and the two sgian dubhs. “Aaron said he hoped ye appreciated how fast he made these and sharpened yer sword.”
Morgan nodded. “Aye, the next time ye see him tell him how grateful I am for his quick work.”
Enoch gave a quick nod and left the hut after grabbing a jar of something from one of the shelves.
He’d walked by himself around the hut and then outside and felt confident that he would not stumble and fall when he entered the Clyth Castle gates. He was also happy that he didn’t feel as tired as he’d been in the beginning when he’d first started to walk again.
It was growing toward gloaming when Emma finally returned. She gave some information to Janet, handing her some clean linens from the medicant shelf before she turned to him. He was not happy with the look of confusion on her face.
He sighed and offered a soft smile. “Come here, Emma.”
She moved a few more steps until he was able to reach her hand and pull her towards him. “Are ye certain ye want to go?”
She waited a moment, looking out the window. “I would have preferred to have an idea that ye were thinking about marriage before ye spoke to the laird about it. A lass would like to be asked and give her consent before her intended blurts out his intentions to someone else.”
He moved his hand to brush an escaped curl from her hair and pushed it behind her ear.
“As I told the laird, I have no idea what shape my home will be in when I get there. Some—or, by now, maybe all—of the clan members might think I am a prisoner here, or that I have died from my injuries.” Once he fixed her hair, he placed his index finger and thumb on her chin.
“What does that have to do with me?”
“I trust ye. I need someone to make sure I no’ be given something in my drink to make sure I doona awake.”
She took a deep breath. “Do ye think something like that is possible?”
He looked over her shoulder out the window to the growing darkness. “Aye. I am almost sure of at least two men who would be more than happy to step into my place, hoping I would ne’er return. Men who would no’ give up easy.”
He looked back at her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Also, when we return, ye might be my only friend.”
He then pulled her close against his body and covered her mouth with another possessive kiss. His kisses were growing stronger and her reaction to them were stronger, too.
His warm large warrior hands roamed her body, squeezing, touching, caressing, pulling her even closer until she found it hard to breathe.
They moved apart as the hut door opened and one of the kitchen maids entered. She gave a clumsy curtsy as she addressed Morgan with a shy glance at Emma. “The laird requests that ye and Emma join him at the dais for the evening meal.”
He looked at Emma and his hand slid down her body, linking their fingers together.
It appeared the laird had acknowledged him as the laird of Gunn Castle.
“I think the laird has a wedding planned,” he said to her.