Page 111 of The Scot Beds His Wife
Gavin allowed her to lie there as he cleaned them, extinguished the lights, and crawled into bed next to her.
They were both silent a while, listening to the sounds of the winter night. Gentle snow drifted in flakes the size of dove feathers outside the casement, and though it made no sound, there was a melody to it. A muffled softness that seemed to blanket the entire Highlands.
“I was going to make love to ye tonight, lass,” Gavin murmured finally as he pulled her close. “But ye drove me beyond all control.”
Samantha smiled at the night, thinking about how she didn’t mind one bit. “Next time,” she whispered, patting the arm he’d draped protectively around her.
“Next time.” He yawned, and promptly fell asleep.
Samantha lay quietly in the dark, her body still singing and her soul still a little troubled.
She could do this, couldn’t she?
Gavin moaned when she shifted her position a little to ease a new ache in her back. His fingers found her belly, and he splayed his palm against it, making a dreamy sound.
That flutter startled her again. Had the child caused it? Or was it her own reaction to the man?
“Are… are you awake?” she whispered.
He replied with a soft, masculine snore.
Samantha’s heart squeezed so powerfully, she thought for a moment that the ache might kill her.
Come hell or high water, she knew she’d steal every moment in Gavin’s arms, in his bed, and in his life that fate would allow her. She wanted nothing more in the world than for this child to have him as a father. He’d teach a sonhow to be a man, a kind, honest, strong man, and he’d allow a daughter to feel cherished, appreciated, and protected. What a life a child would have at Inverthorne. Romping in the woods with Callum. Reading to Eleanor. Riding with Eammon. Laughing and teasing with Locryn and Calybrid. Working alongside parents who would do anything to secure a happy, prosperous future.
This was a family. The mutual desire that brought them together. The thing that could bind them despite whatever threatened to tear them apart.
Including her deception?
Perhaps… This wasn’t just about her needing protection, anymore. He’d just admitted he needed her too, needed the child she carried.
For the first time, Samantha considered that her secret… might just be one worth keeping a little while longer.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
Eammon Monahan’s sense of trepidation intensified as he lifted the saddle blanket from Lysander’s back, and uncovered the mystery as to why the beast had thrown poor Sam from the saddle. He’d awoken this morning sensing trouble on the north wind. The Monahans had always sensed the wind, and this one blew alteration and revelations whispering through the winter trees.
“A thistle.” He held it up for her inspection, though how Sam could see anything from eyes narrowed in fury confounded the blarney right out of him. “Right beneath the blanket. Left a proper scrape too, here on his back, poor lad.”
“Iknewit had to be something. I can count on one hand the times I’ve been unseated from a horse, and more than a few have tried.” Sam plucked the sharp thistle from Eammon’s outstretched hand and inspected it thoroughly. “Gavin thinks he can order me to stay home, does he? The high-and-mighty Lord of Inverthorne Keep. Ha! I’ll saddle up, take this thistle to Erradale, and shove it up his—”
“Come now, lassie, don’t be too hard on your husband.”
“Someone has to be.”
Eammon chuckled, even though he still felt a mite pale, and his palms were still slick with moisture. “He was worried about you, is all.”
That morning, Eammon had aided in preparing a few horses for permanent transport to Erradale so the workers could have use of them, since they’d cobbled together a new stable of sorts on the land.
Lady Sam, Lord love her, had offered to prepare and saddle her own mount, and he’d allowed her to as he knew no one but Callum more adept with horses.
All was well until she led Lysander into the courtyard. The moment her wee arse plopped in the saddle, before her opposite foot had found its purchase, the beast had jumped, bucked, and reared, dumping her onto the stones.
Luckily, the girl knew how to fall, and had popped back up, quick as a fleet-footed cat, and subdued the animal.
That hadn’t stopped Thorne from losing his Mackenzie mind over it.
Their resulting yelling match had revealed three very amusing facts.
