Chapter Twenty #4
“Lass, I do not know where this will go, and neither do you. But I know it is a strong and beautiful thing that will get stronger and better if we let it. And I will never be the same now, no matter what happens, and that is good, you see. The mountain, my love, is powerful, and it changes you. It cannot be conquered, but we can understand it, and respect it, and feel love for it.”
The warm, velvety caliber of his voice vibrated through her, erasing resistance. Enthralled, she moved closer. “It needs passion and courage,” she whispered.
“It does.” He moved closer too, looking down, the only man she knew who was taller and more willful. He traced a fingertip over her cheek to lift her chin. Delicate shivers went through her. He slid his fingers into her hair and tugged at the confining net.
Shivers went through her as he removed her hairpins one by one. The coppery silk of her hair spilled over her shoulders, and she closed her eyes. She wanted to follow her quickening heart. She wanted to see where this would lead.
“You are bold when you want to be,” he said. “You came from a strict household, yet you went out on your own, wandering the hills, collecting your songs, finding freedom.”
“I suppose I did,” she admitted. “And then I found you on the mountainside.”
“So you did.” His fingers felt divine on her head, combing through it, slipping over the shell of her ear like a butterfly. She sighed. His fingers were magic, smoothing, soothing.
She tilted back her head, ready to melt or fly. He was seducing her and she did not want him to stop this time. He had reminded her that she had courage, and she drew on that now. Her body tingled, pulsed with need, anticipating his embrace, his kiss.
He leaned close, breath carrying a smoky, spicy hint of whisky.
“You helped me when we met, and I will not forget it. But that is not why I want you. Nor is it gratitude, though that is part of it. That night brought you trouble, and I regret that. But I do not regret any of this,” he said, “with you.”
“I do not regret it either,” she whispered, meeting his eyes. Head to foot, she burned for him. The awareness in her body overtook her senses. “If it is not obligation, why do you want to be married?”
He laughed softly. “You do not know?”
Hope bloomed bright. But there was something she needed to say. “I hope you do not feel obligated. That night, in the shieling—that was my fault, not yours.”
“Not at all.”
She shook her head. “I wanted something to happen with you.” She drew a breath. “I was—so lonely. We were alone, and you were—kind, and I just wanted to know what it was like to feel—loved. I thought I might never have the chance again. And I felt something between us. So I—I coaxed you, I think.”
“It did not take much to coax me. A beautiful lass in my arms—but I am not that sort. I felt something happening too, that I could not explain.”
“Aye, just that. Exactly that. I cannot explain it.”
“Well, now I know it was not my simmering, irresistible charm, but more your curiosity to know a little about love.” A smile played on his lips and his eyes sparkled. His hands were gentle on her shoulders as he pulled her to him. “So, you only wanted to know what it is like to be loved?”
“I did, that night. But then I—I have put you off. I am sorry for that.”
“Do not be. You were right, we did need time.”
She drew breath and said what came to her. “I want to know what it feels like to be loved. I do.”
“Lass,” he murmured, “I have been showing you all along.”
She stared at him. The sudden feeling that welled up took words and thought and left her vulnerable in the moment, tentative, yet ready. Just another step, as he had said.
“And I want you to know too. But there is so much—to consider—”
“But, but. Let the fear go, aye. Let go the concerns you have. We go together into this.” His circling, soothing fingers had a language of their own, raising shivers in her.
“But an earl needs a countess who knows more about—society. You may regret this later, if not now. Once you see how little your marriage benefits you, then you will resent me and cast me aside, and we will live apart, and I will go back to the manse and be plain.”
“Good Lord, you do have an imagination.”
“I am pragmatic. You are a peer of the realm and there are expectations.”
“I am pragmatic too, lass. I am Evan Mackenzie first, an engineer second, an earl third. Evan Mackenzie needs a wife who can match him wit for wit and strength for strength, who sees his flaws and yet loves him. A wife with a generous, loving nature to make him a better man than he was on his own. And a better earl. A better engineer, come to that. And he has found her, if she will have him.”
“But you could—”
“Catriona mine, hush,” he murmured. “You are not plain, and my guess is you have never been plain. You are strong and beautiful. Others see it. I see it. Time you saw it too.”
Taking her chin in his fingers, he tipped her head and touched his lips to hers, slow and deep, a kiss filled with all the promise she had ever hoped to find and more. She sank forward into his arms.