Page 62 of A Wife for the Highland Villain
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Ye never claimed me. Nae truly.”
His chest tightened, and he leaned closer. “Do ye want me to claim ye then, lassie? Is that what it’ll take for ye to finally listen to me?”
Her laugh was soft and teasing. “In yer dreams, Laird MacRay.”
The words cut, yet her hands on his arm softened the sting. Every brush of her fingers made it harder to hold himself back.
He wanted to pull her close and silence her sharp tongue with his mouth. He wanted to explore every inch of her body and watch her face while he did so. But he wouldn’t. Not now. So he stayed still. His bride would never forgive him if he acted without restraint.
A cold drop landed on his face. Then another. His eyes flicked up to the sky, and at that moment, thunder cracked through the clouds. The wind picked up, and the heavens opened.
Lily looked up, the shock on her face evident. “It is raining.”
Alasdair looked straight at her. “Deciphered that rather quickly, did ye nae?” he drawled.
“But I thought?—”
Another thunderclap rent the air, and her mouth clamped shut. Then, her eyes shifted to the wound on Alasdair’s arm, and a mild groan escaped her lips.
“Of course. I tried everything to keep this wound dry, and now the blasted clouds must pour on us.”
He laughed under his breath. “Follow me, lassie. Scolding the clouds will get ye nowhere.”
She shot him a glare. “Ye think this is funny?”
He smiled and started forward. “Aye. Very.”
She muttered about the injustice of nature itself as he led her deeper into the woods, and soon they found a cave tucked against a ridge. The inside was dry and dark, and the stone floor was cool beneath their feet.
Lily set his arm on her lap again and sighed.
“At least yer land is beautiful,” she said.
“The best part is that it is close to the sea.”
Her eyes widened. “The sea? Truly?”
“Aye.” He studied her face. “Ye seem surprised.”
“I am. The way ye left… I thought ye must have hated the sea.”
He shook his head. “Nay, I loved the sea. I was loyal to yer faither, too. But I had to fight for this clan alone. Ye daenae understand.”
Her gaze hardened. “Nay, I daenae.”
He looked away, his jaw tight. Finn’s words echoed in his mind.
“Tell her the story.The full story.”
But the full story was heavy, and he was not sure Lily could bear it. Not yet. And there was another weight pressing on him—the archer. No man would try to kill the lady of a clan without support. Whoever had sent that archer was not alone, and that fact gnawed at him.
Still, none of it troubled him as much as the feel of Lily’s hands on his skin.
For a while, they sat in silence as the storm raged outside. Her fingers moved slowly and carefully on his wound, turning his thoughts wild.
At last, she looked up at him. “Ye are awfully quiet. Nae a single cuttin’ remark in minutes. Did the wound rob ye of yer tongue, too?”
He laughed. “Nay. Ye ken, I often wondered what might have happened to me sweet bride.”
