Page 91 of The Scottish Duke
Striding across the room, he took her into his arms, wrapping them around her tightly.
Her black cloak was nearly threadbare, not enough protection for the chilly spring wind. The hood had fallen, leaving her hair loosened from its bun and framing her face. Her nose was pink and her eyes red-rimmed.
He hadn’t imagined a homecoming like this. Was she crying because he’d returned or because he’d stayed away so long?
She burrowed her forehead against his chest, her words muffled against his jacket.
“What is it, Lorna?”
She raised her head. “That,” she said.
For the first time, he noticed the destruction. Several of the bottles had been broken, shards littering the table. Most of the herbs had been tossed to the stone floor. Even the mortar and pestle had been damaged. The cracks in the surface of the pestle looked as if it had been thrown.
Someone had done the damage deliberately. The only question was: who?
She didn’t move, merely pressed her cheek against his chest. He hadn’t been able to stand so close to her for months, had never before felt her tremble lightly in his arms.
“Are you cold?”
“Not now,” she said, the words muffled.
“I’ll find out who did this.”
When he first held Robbie, he felt a surge of love, coupled with the need to protect his precious child. The emotion came back to him now in a way that was startling.
Lorna was resolute, independent, and determined to fight the world single-handedly. He’d never considered that she might need him. Nor had he ever anticipated that he would feel this way when she did. He wanted to shield her from the world. He wanted to defend her against anyone who had the audacity to challenge her. He wanted to soothe her, dry her tears, and take away the reason for them. He wanted to ease her heart and smooth her path.
He wanted to do these things not from a sense of duty, but to please her.
They were united in a single purpose: to rear their son and give Robbie the best life they could. But as he held her within the shelter of his arms, Alex also wondered if they might share something else. The need to feel whole, to trust, and to give and receive comfort.
She glanced up at him, her nose pink from crying, her brown eyes deep with tears.
“It’s all right,” he said. “I’ll make it right.”
What she would’ve said next was lost because he bent his head and touched her lips gently with his. He hadn’t meant to kiss her, but the memory was always there in the back of his mind. Perhaps time had exaggerated the sensation of kissing Lorna. The experience had been blown out of proportion.
Now he surrendered to temptation.
He tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss. She made a sound in the back of her throat. When he would have pulled away, she reached up and grabbed his jacket, pulling him to her.
No, it wasn’t his imagination. Nor had he exaggerated anything. She opened her mouth beneath his, their tongues dueling. Lights danced behind his eyelids. Desire surged through him, heating his extremities, hardening him and reminding him how long he’d been celibate.
He wanted to taste her everywhere, find that spot at her neck that had made her moan so long ago. Or place a kiss at the base of her throat. Or whisper things he wanted to do to her and hear her shocked gasps.
Breathing hard, he forced himself to step back. Would she know how aroused he was?
She blinked up at him, stretching out her hands to touch his chest.
“I’m not cold now,” she said.
He smiled down into her upturned face. “That’s why I kissed you, of course.”
“Of course,” she said. “A very kind gesture. Thank you.”
They smiled at each other, the first time they’d ever been in perfect accord. No, that wasn’t true, was it? After Robbie’s birth they’d sat together, watching as their child slept. The night had been silent, the atmosphere almost magical. Not unlike this moment in an empty cottage.
“I’ve wanted to do that for months,” he said, feeling the need to tell her the truth.
