Page 58 of Tempted By a Highland Beast
“Aye,” he said finally. “I can promise ye that.”
The words seemed to unlock something in Rowena’s expression. Her shoulders relaxed, and the smile that had been threatening finally broke free, transforming her face with its warmth.
Constantine felt his own control slip at the sight of it. Without conscious thought, he stepped closer, close enough to see the flecks of gold in her eyes, close enough to smell the lavender in her hair.
“So ye’ll have me then?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Aye,” Rowena breathed. “I’ll have ye, Constantine MacLean.”
The admission hung between them for a heartbeat, weighted with promise and possibility. Then Constantine was moving, his hands came up to frame her face, thumbs brushing over the soft skin of her cheeks.
“Good,” he said roughly, and then his mouth was on hers.
The kiss started tentative, a question rather than a demand. But when Rowena’s lips parted under his, when her hands came up to fist his shirt and pull him closer, Constantine felt the last of his restraint snap. He kissed her like a drowning man, like she was air and water and salvation all at once.
Rowena met his intensity with her own, rising up on her toes to deepen the kiss, to pour into it all the words she couldn’t say and the promises she was finally brave enough to make. She tasted like honey and hope, like the future he’d never dared to imagine for himself.
He broke the kiss and traced a careful hand around her face. Her face was warm in the palm of his hands, and his lips fell upon hers again. She wobbled on her feet, and Constantine drew her flush against his body. She was soft, all womanly curve against him, and he knew he would too easily get used to it.
“So it’s settled then,” he murmured against her lips when they finally broke apart.
“Aye,” Rowena whispered back, her eyes bright with unshed tears and something that looked suspiciously like joy. “It’s settled.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Constantine sat in the dining hall watching Rowena as the servants cleared the table away. Two days after Rowena had caught him in what could only be described as a precarious position. With her acting like it had not happened, there hung in the air a tension he didn’t like.
I’ll talk tae her after this meal.
His breeches tightened as he pictured again how her eyes had glued to his hands. He hadn’t been able to help it, teasing her like that.
“Good day, Sir.” A maid said to him and he nodded at her. Just then, a messenger arrived, mud-splattered and weary from his ride through the winter countryside. Constantine received him in the great hall, Rowena standing quietly to one side as the young man delivered his request with the careful formality of someone unused to addressing nobility.
“Me laird,” the boy began, his cap clutched nervously in his hands, “the village of Kinloch sends their respectful greetings and a humble request fer yer wisdom.”
Constantine’s expression remained neutral, but Rowena caught the slight tension in his shoulders. This would be one of his first official acts as laird-in-waiting, and she knew he felt the weight of it.
“Go on,” Constantine said simply.
“There’s been a dispute, me laird. About land boundaries between two families; the MacBeths and the Campbells. It’s been festering fer months now, and the village elders fear it might turn violent if left unresolved. They’re asking if ye’d be willing tae come and mediate, tae lend yer authority tae whatever judgment ye see fit.”
Constantine was quiet for a long moment, considering. Rowena could see him weighing the opportunity to establish his authority, but also the risk of making enemies if his judgment was seen as unfair.
“When?” he asked finally.
“Soon, if possible, me laird. The spring planting season approaches, and both families need tae ken which fields belong tae them.”
Constantine nodded decisively. “Tomorrow morning, then. Tell the elders we’ll arrive before noon.”
The messenger’s face lit with relief. “Aye, thank ye, me laird.”
After the young man had been fed and sent on his way, Constantine turned to Rowena. “Pack whatever ye need fer a day’s travel,” he said. “Ye’re coming with me.”
Rowena raised an eyebrow. “Am I now? And why’s that?”
“Because if we’re tae be partners in this marriage, ye need tae see what that actually means. This is the work of a laird and his lady—settling disputes, maintaining peace, ensuring the people under our protection can live and work without fear.”
The casual way he’d said “our protection” sent a flutter of something warm through Rowena’s chest.
