Page 47 of A Plaid Case of Loving Ye
“Aye, Nicola.” He held her gaze, his expression serious once more. “’Tis because I’m a part of ye.”
As if to demonstrate, his cock gave a little jump, or mayhap he flexed his muscles. Either way, she felt him move inside her and had to grin.
“If ye keep that up, we’ll have to do this again right away.”
“Nay, ye’re too sore.” He eased his denial with another kiss, this time on her lips.
She hummed and stretched upward to meet him. “Why no’ let me, as the healer, decide what my body can and cannae do?”
Her movement had caused him to slide from her core, so he wrapped his arms around her and chuckled, then kissed her yet again, lightly this time. ‘Twas obvious he wasn’t quite ready for another round of love-making, but Nicola didn’t mind; she loved his kisses almost as much.
“I’ve missed this,” she whispered against his lips. “Kissing ye.”
He groaned. “I’ve missedye. God’s wounds, Nicola…” When he sat up, he pulled her with him. “I feel like I’ve been waiting for ye my entire life.”
Shyly, she climbed off him and reached for her chemise. “Mayhap ye have.”
His hand closed around her wrist and she turned. He was devouring her with his gaze. “There’s nae mayhap about it, love. I’ve been waiting forye. Ye see me as myself, and ye make me feel…” He shook his head. “Ye make me want to be a better man—och, that doesnae make sense.”
“Aye, it does,” she said softly, pulling her chemise over her head and moving back to him. She knelt at his side. “I feel the same about ye.”
His grin was crooked. “I make ye want to be a better man?”
She giggled. “Ye make me want to—I dinnae how to say it. For as long as I can recall, my mother has asked and asked. I didnae mind it, no’ at first, because she’s mymother; she gave me life. But after a while, I began to resent her.”
His large hands enfolded hers, and he lounged next to her, completely oblivious to his nudity. “Ye have every right to resent her, love. It seems obvious to me, from what ye described, she saw ye as only a way to ease her anxiety about her Wandering Diphtheria or Brittle Tetanus or Angry Bilbaggins.”
His made-up names, which were no worse than Mother’s, made her smile. And when he lifted her fingers to his lips, her smile grew.
“For so long, I thought my only purpose was healing. Iwantedto help others, aye, but Mother had taught me I didn’t like being at one person’s beck and call. ‘Twas why I went to St. Dorcas’s—I wanted to help others besides my mother. When Da made that ridiculous ultimatum, I even considered taking holy vows.”
“Hmm. I’m verra glad ye didnae.” He wrapped his arm around her middle. “I’d have to spend a few years in Purgatory, in penance for debauching a nun.”
The thought that he’d want her even if she were a nun, warmed her. “Sister Mary Nicola? I’d be a shite nun. I just…didn’t want to spend the rest of my life caring for only one person.”
He started to smile then stilled, and his expression turned wary.
She knew he understood and twisted to take his cheeks between her palms. “But then I met ye, Ramsay,” she whispered. “Ye and Relic. And I realized…” She placed a kiss first on his whole brow, then on the patch covering his missing eye. “I realized that there’s a difference between caring for someone because ye’re a healer, and caring for them because ye love them. I love my mother, and I ken she loves me, but she didn’tcareabout me. Ye…” St. Crystal’s teeth, she was making a muck of this! “Ye treat me as if I’m important.”
“Because yeareimportant, Nicola. To me and to Relic. I saw the way ye watched my mother last night; ye’re unused to her fussing over ye. But…yedeserveto be fussed over. To be cared for. And if ye could ever consider an ugly, scarred warrior like me—”
“Nay!” She was already reaching for the ties which held his eyepatch on. “Ramsay, ye’re no’ ugly.”
“I’m missing an eye and covered in scars.” His grin was wry, but he didn’t stop her from removing the patch.
It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him without it, but this time she was able to lean down and brush her lips across the mass of scar tissue.
Then she sat back and caressed his cheekbones once more. “I’m no’ afraid of a few scars, Ramsay.”
“But Relic—"
“Relic will grow up loving yer face,” she said firmly. “No’ because of what it looks like, or how many scars ye do or dinnae have…but because ‘tis the face of his father, the man he loves. He’ll grow up loving ye because ye love him, and ye show him every day.”
He swallowed once, then again. “Ye—ye believe that?” he croaked.
“Ikenit. I’m a medical professional, after all,” she teased.
“I love ye.” She could tell from the way he winced that he hadn’t meant to blurt it out, but he didn’t back down. In fact, he tightened his hold and pulled her into his lap. “I love ye, Lady Nicola Oliphant. Ihaveto believe ye care for me—no’ as a healer cares for a patient, but as a woman cares for a man.”
