Page 30 of Kilty as Sin
“I thought we might break our fasts in a more leisurely manner.” Wait, was she blushing? She was meeting his gaze boldly, butaye, she was blushing! “Mayhap there are some other lessons ye might teach me?”
Christ.Christ.
Lessons.
He couldn’t meet her eyes. Couldn’t see thehopein them. Instead, he locked his gaze on the loch behind her. “Nay, Grace. Nae time to dally this morning. We can eat oatcakes in the saddle if ye’re hungry.”
When she made a little sound of disappointment, he couldn’t stop himself from darting a glance at her. Forget blushing; her cheeks were red with embarrassment now.
“I…see. Ye are so anxious to be on our way?”
“Aye,” he choked out. “We can be at yer father’s keep by noon if we hurry.”
And there ‘twas.
The admission he had betrayed her.
Last night, he’d taught her about pleasure, shown her how miraculous her body could be…and today, he was consigning her to a marriage she didn’t want.
Well, if ‘twere up to him, she wouldn’t be marrying the nameless laird her father had picked out for her! She’d be marryinghim.
Wait, what?
Aye, in all his years, he’d had no interest in marriage. Mainly because he had naught to offer a wife, except life at Court and a lifetime of pleasure when he was between missions.
Hunters usually retire when they marry.
Aye, but he had nowhere to retireto.
No one to retirewith.
But now…now he’d found her. The woman who could convince him to give up all other women. The woman who made him yearn for a place of his own, if only to offer to share it with her.
Lady Grace MacDonald.
The woman whose cheeks had gone alarmingly pale.
“I…see. Well.” When she took a deep breath, her tits—those glorious tits, which he’d cupped and tasted last night as she’d squirmed naked in his lap!—pressed against the neckline of the gown he’d washed. “I cannae say I’m completely surprised by yer decision.”
“Nay,” he announced gruffly. “I’ve never lied to ye, Grace. My duty is to the King.”
She shrugged, the movement far too nonchalant to be believable, especially with the hurt in her expression. “I might’ve said yer duty is to yer own heart, but ‘tis clear that particular organ hasnae been engaged.”
He opened his mouth to protest—oh, his heartwasengaged!—but she held up a hand to forestall him.
“Never mind, Barclay. I didnae mean to sound manipulative. Ye’re right; ye’ve never made it a secret ye would be taking me back to my father. But last night…”
Last night changed everything.
Heknewthat’s what she was going to say.
Which is why he was surprised as hell when she said something different. “Last night, I made a decision too. I’ll go back to my father’s keep, aye, but I willnae stay there. I willnae marry the disgusting man Father has chosen for me. I ammorethan a bargaining chip, and I deserve happiness in my life.”
Och, by St. Pancras’s left elbow, she did!
Barclay’s palms itched to reach for her, to comfort her. Only by tightening his grip on his helmet, the steel digging into his palm, could he control the impulse.
His other hand curled around the hilt of his sword, as if he could attack whatever was causing her this pain.
