Page 65 of In Search of a Husband
She had found pleasure with a man who had a heart as big as he stood.
Kate tilted her lips up to meet his kiss, relishing at the soft press of his mouth against hers. Kate’s pulse quieted, and the shame melted away and the tears dried.
“I’ve caught ye,” Gabriel whispered. “I’ll always catch ye, lass.”
CHAPTER 17
Kate hummedas she waltzed into the kitchen, drawing the wool shawl around her shoulders tighter.
Gabriel froze from slicing the shallot on the worktop. He could still taste her on his lips, but he didn’t understand the pressure in his chest as she smiled at him, so easy. Warmth danced in her eyes as if she were happy to see him.
“It smells delicious,” she said.
Only an hour earlier, he had tasted her quim and brought about her pleasure, and she had wept in his arms. Only an hour earlier, everything he thought he understood of the world had changed, and he felt as if it were continuing on without him.
Because he was well and truly struck.
This woman. This Englishwoman Kate and her damned big heart. She was all light and good, and she swept into his life bringing about more chaos than when he had arrived in Scotland, knowing his place in the world and what he wanted.
Now…
“Thank ye,” he said gruffly, grabbing his glass of claret. He pointed toward the glass he had poured for her.
Kate swallowed a sip, licking off one last bead of claret from her lips. “What are you making us?”
“I’m fryin’ beefsteaks.”
She savored her claret, studying him. He could smell her perfume, and he wasn’t sure if it was on him or if it was her, and it was all bloody confusing. Because what he wished to do to the governess was anything but proper. But she wouldn’t be a governess much longer, for she was to help him with the distillery as he focused on having the inn open in time for the festival.
Still, he employed her, and he didn’t wish to muddy that relationship. Yet he couldn’t rid her from his mind, and he was quite certain he would be begging to taste her once more by the end of dinner if she continued looking at him as she did now.
He tossed a cube of butter in the hot skillet, then dusted the beef with salt and pepper.
“Sounds lovely. Would you like dessert?”
If she was on the menu, then yes. But that was rather base of him. He hadn’t thought that way about a woman… ever. He was going mad.
Stark mad.
“That’d be fine.”
“Fine?”
“Good,” he corrected, tossing the steaks into the hot pan. The air was suddenly perfumed with rosemary, garlic, and shallots as the butter glistened over the steaks.
She narrowed her eyes on him before spinning to the larder and returning with some eggs. “Tonight calls for baked custard.”
He focused on the steaks and not at all on how she moved around the kitchen, all long, lean grace and ease as she fetched spices, eggs, and a mixing bowl.
“Mrs. Malcolm ken ye’re messin’ about in her kitchen?”
Kate cracked an egg into the bowl and shrugged. “Who do you think made the baked apples you definitely were not sneaking? It was truly astonishing to see how quickly they disappeared.”
He grinned into his glass of claret. “So, you do enjoy baking?”
“I was never allowed in a kitchen before now, but I do. I think Icould happily spend the day making delicious treats.” She whipped the eggs up, then added a dash of nutmeg.
The kitchen suddenly felt alive.
