Page 55 of Wild Highland Rose
She blushed. "Aye, but that was because of Torcall."
He smiled to himself, remembering her plea for him to stay after it had no longer been necessary. "Well," he said, trying to reassure her with his tone. "It's like this. Even with the fire, it's cold in here and the best way I know to stay warm is to share our body heat. For that to work best we need insulation of some sort. And it's either mine," he ran a hand along the blanket, "or yours."
She frowned, obviously thinking it over. Then squaring her shoulders, she sighed. "Fine. We'll use yours."
The woman made it sound as if he was asking her to sleep with a cobra, for heaven's sake. He waited until she was lying down and then settled in beside her, tucking the blanket around them for additional warmth. She turned her back to him, snuggling against his chest. He willed himself not to respond as she wriggled against his body. Wrapping an arm around her, he pulled her closer, listening as her breathing deepened and slowed.
"Good night, Marjory." No answer. He inhaled the soft floral fragrance of her hair, marveling at the fact that she could still smell so good after all they had been through.
It was going to be a long night.
15
Marjory stood by the shell of a window and looked at the stars, thinking, as she always did, of her mother. Happiness would be all that her mother's spirit would wish for her now. No cry for vengeance would come from those long dead lips. Gleda would only want for her daughter to find a love as rich as the union she had shared with Marjory's father.
Marjory tried to reach inside herself, to find her anger and her pain, but all she could think of was the man lying on the pallet by the fire. Heaven help her, she wanted him. As surely as there were clans in Scotland, she wanted this man, whoever he turned out to be.
She sighed and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the early morning chill. One thing was for certain. He was not the man she had been forced to marry, not the man who had taken her with the callousness of a conqueror. She shivered again, but this time it wasn't the cold.
"You're going to catch your death."
Marjory felt the meager warmth of Cameron's blanket wrap around her shoulders. She leaned back against him, letting her body mold to his.
"Are you wishing on the stars?" His voice curled around her, warm and alive, lighting fires deep within her.
"I dinna believe in such nonsense." But she wanted to, oh heavenly Father, she wanted to.
Cameron pulled her closer, his chin resting on her head. "Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight." He paused for a minute, looking up at the night sky. "I'm pretty sure my mother used to recite that for me. And then I'd make a wish."
Marjory stared up at the twinkling stars, and felt hope blossoming. "My mother always said they were angels."
"Maybe they are." His voice was soft, thoughtful. "If so, then maybe one of them is my mother."
"Mine, too." She twined her fingers through his, not wanting the moment to end. "Except that I don't believe in them anymore."
"If you did, what would you wish for, Marjory mine?"
She turned in his embrace, amazed at her own boldness. He met her gaze and she caught her breath. His face was close to hers, so close she could feel his breath as it stirred tendrils of her hair.
She swallowed convulsively. She could feel the blood coursing through her body. "I'd wish for you, Cameron."
His arms tightened around her. "You called me Cameron." He leaned even closer and she shivered as his hair brushed against her cheek.
"'Tis your name."
"Yes, but you've never used it before." He whispered the words and they came out sounding like a caress.
"I know." She swallowed again, trying to focus on his words. "But 'twould be wrong to call you by another man's name. And you're no' Ewen Cameron, of that I'm certain."
"How can you be so sure?" His eyes searched hers, the intensity there almost as dazzling as the stars.
"Ewen canna swim."
He laughed, a rich, deep sound that echoed off of the remaining walls of the cottage. She tried to pull away, unexpectedly hurt by his laughter, but he pulled her back, forcing her to meet his gaze.
"Wait, Marjory. I wasn't laughing at you. It's just that after all this time and everything I've been through, I find it amazing that something as insignificant as swimming could convince you."
She looked up at him, letting his words sink in. Her heart had begun its staccato beating again. His warmth flowed into her, robbing her of strength. She leaned against him, trying to find words for what she was feeling. "'Tis just that…"
