Page 18 of A Merry MacNaughton
It was a rewarding afternoon. Enid’s sister could have been her twin, and the young girl had the same plump cheeks and curly red hair. The squeal of delight was satisfying, but it was the embarrassed pleasure on Calum’s face that warmed her heart. A grown man, with so many important issues on his mind, took time to make this child happy. It was such a small thing, yet such a huge gesture. It revealed the character of a man who loved his clan and considered each one, no matter how small or old, to be equally important in his eyes. He sat in the small cottage, leaning back in a chair with a cup of tea as comfortable here as in the elegant drawing room of his castle. These people loved him. How could they not?
“Ye shouldna have done this. The MacNaughton prizes his hounds.”
Calum shook his head. “He values his clan more. Look at her face. What’s worth more than that?”
A light snow continued to fall on the way back. Calum settled a rug on Peigi’s lap and kissed the top of her head. “Are ye tired?”
She shook her head. “I couldna have spent a nicer afternoon.”
He pulled back on the reins and brought the horse to a stop. “I’m afraid I canna stand it another minute.” His fingers brushed her cheeks as they threaded in her hair and pulled her mouth to his.
She didn’t hesitate this time but opened to him, her tongue searching out his taste, his lips moving back and forth across hers. The throbbing was deep and low between her legs, her mind a blur of desire and need for something she had not yet experienced. Yet somehow, her body knew this man could give her what she craved. Her hands pressed against his chest and then slid beneath the folds, feeling the lines of hard muscle beneath the wool, wondering what his skin would feel like, what he would look like beneath the layers.
Calum removed his hands from her face and pulled her onto his lap. He feathered her jaw and neck with kisses and gently pulled back her cloak. With one hand, he pulled back the wool and lowered the bodice of her dress. She drew in a sharp breath as the cold air was followed by his warm breath and lips, trailing kisses across her bare chest. A violent hammering in the folds of her most private place made her gasp and cling to him.
He chuckled and cupped her breast, rubbing and kneading through the material until her nipple was hard and aching. Her pulse increased, and she trembled with the new sweet sensations. His hand caressed her stomach and slid lower. He rubbed slowly, lightly between her legs, creating a liquid warmth that spiraled through her. He continued his rhythmic stroking as she whimpered, fire licking her veins when his lips returned to her neck and, once again, claimed her lips. A delicious pressure was building insider her, making her legs weak, her head light, and her body scream for more. More of what, she did not know. And then he stopped, her stomach still quivering as the tremors inside her quieted. Her chest heaved, panting from some inner exertion.Sweet Mary, is this love? It will be the death of me.
“Do ye believe in fate, Peigi?” His voice was gravelly and sounded pained.
She opened her eyes, saw the strain and regret in his midnight blue eyes, the rigid clenching of his jaw. “I believe destiny plays a part in our lives. And ye?”
“I think every man decides his own way, regardless of what fate throws at him.” He carefully set her back on the seat beside him. “I shouldna have taken advantage of ye like that, out here alone. Ye are a tempting beauty, and I hope ye dinna think the less of me.”
“Nay, if I’m honest, I enjoyed it immensely even if I dinna understand it all.”
That seemed to please him. He picked up the reins and clucked to the horse, sending them back into motion with a lurch.
How could he just stop? Her mind was still hazy with his touch, and he was whistling and driving them over the next hill as if they’d done nothing but shake hands. Was it because passion between a man and a woman was not a novelty to him, or because he felt no love for her? It would make sense. Though he desired her, without love, it was just a physical act. One that could be started or ended when he chose.
Her mind went over the past few days and this latest adventure. Looking at his profile, the strong jaw, straight nose, kind eyes, she realized how much she liked this man, how she could love him without reserve. She knew he liked and respected her, too. Yet, Calum deserved so much more than a stranger for a wife, a woman who would only quench his desire but never satisfy his heart. This man longed for the kind of love that was rare. Perhaps he’d never find it.
Not if ye marry him.
Her chest hurt at the thought of what lay before her if she broke the betrothal. What kind of a person was she if she put him in the same position she had been? Was her virtue any more valuable than this man’s happiness? He didn’t love her; they’d only met a few days ago.
“Love will come in time, Peigi, I have no doubt.”
What if it didn’t? Would he come to resent her? She closed her heart against the thought that, in the end, his words would haunt them both.
She hugged Ailish.“Thank ye for everything. I shall miss ye.”
“It willna be long. I’m thankful to finally have a daughter.” She kissed Peigi’s cheek. “We shall be the best of friends.”
Peigi blinked back tears, forcing a smile. “Ye have much to do to prepare for the holiday. We shall no’ impose any longer.”
“Enid has been fretting for days, worried she willna finish in time. It’s the same every year,” scoffed Angus.
Her father shook hands and said his goodbyes.
Hamish and Finley came out to bid them farewell. Finley picked her up and twirled her around, planting a loud kiss on her cheek. “Goodbye, Sister!”
Hamish, not to be outdone, scooped her up in a bear hug and taunted Calum. “She’s just my size, big brother. If ye change yer mind…” He set her down with a wink. “I like to poke the bear, ye ken.”
Then Calum was beside her, his hands on her waist to help her mount. “I canna let my brothers take a kiss and leave me out.” He bent his head and claimed her mouth, the brothers whooping and whistling behind them.
The breath left her chest, and she clung to him. She returned the kiss, prolonging the bittersweet farewell, memorizing the feel of his velvet tongue, his hands spanning her back, the sweet, smoky smell of him. If she must give him up, she would cherish the memory of him. It would be his hands when the earl embraced her, his lips on her when she endured another man’s kiss. He raised his head, but she pulled him back, her hands gripping his plaid, refusing to let him go.
He chuckled. “Aye, we’ll make a good match.” He slapped her on the bum. “Now, let’s get ye home so ye can come back to me.” Without another word, he lifted her onto the saddle and settled her skirts around her.
