Page 46 of Kidnapped By her Highland Enemy
When the water grew tepid, Maisie decided to step out and flushed to the roots of her hair at how Lucas’s eyes trailed over her. He stepped forward and handed her a towel.
The leaping flames in the fireplace cast a glowing aura about her slender form, accentuating her delicate curves. She seemed bathed in light, from her head to her toes. The delicate beauty of her features shone with ethereal radiance, the soft curls of her brown hair glimmering with flickering light from the fire.
How I want to see her body littered with my kiss marks, laying on my bed, in throes of bliss.
Lucas battled with his desire and logic, then reluctantly gave her a loose léine as she headed to the bed, “If I had me way, lass, I wouldnae want a stitch on ye.”
She tilted her head, “Then why are ye giving me this?”
Lucas leaned in, “Because if ye are bare in me bed, we’d never leave the room till three days’ time. Get into bed, lass. I’ll be back in a while. I must speak with me faither.”
Dressed, Maisie reached over and kissed him, “Hurry back.”
Before he left, Lucas made sure to stroke the fire higher and tighten the casements before he left the room and closed the door behind him. He didn’t want to leave Maisie so soon, but heknew his father wanted to see him. He knew Cinead was going to question him about his decision to marry Maisie and Lucas would rather get it done and put to bed than have it linger over him till morn.
He headed to his father’s main meeting room, and as he’d suspected, his father was there, dressed in a mantle that was loose around his shoulder.
“Faither,” Lucas bowed his head. “I sensed ye needed to speak with me.”
Cinead rested the goblet in his hand, shifted it to the side and then leaned forward, bracing both elbows on the desk and pinning Lucas with a long look. His searching look trailed on long enough that Lucas began to feel the skin on the back of his neck prickling with apprehension.
When he spoke, Cinead’s voice was gravelly, “Are ye sure about this, son?”
Notching his head up, Lucas replied, “Aye, much more than I have ever been before.”
His father sat back and rubbed his neck. “Tis a shame that other lasses were nay right for ye son.”
A spark of irritation warmed Lucas’s chest, “What do ye mean by that? I’m nae going to look to anyone else but Maisie, Faither. Matter of fact, I daenae want anyone else.”
“I ken, I ken,” Cinead waved Lucas’s anger down. “It’s only that we are going to have to touch some old sore points when Dunn and I decide to negotiate. That man is as stubborn as a three-legged bull.”
“Daeane see ye any different,” Lucas snorted.
“Hush,” Cinead glared, then settled back into his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “When I first saw ye with the lass, I was afraid ye’d lost the good sense the Lord gave ye, and then when I found ye were taken with her, I feared the worse. Now though, as I look on it, this merge of our clans might be the best thing for us. Joined as one, we’d command so much more of the highlands than we already have.”
Lucas shook his head, “The main reason is to stop the bloodshed, Faither, nay to gain power or gold.”
“Which will happen but there’s nay harm in getting richer,” his father shrugged. “Ye may have a bond with the lass, but there is nay such thing between Dunn and I. The most I can hope for is mutual respect between us.”
“For the start,” Lucas said. He was not foolish enough to think that his father would welcome Dunn with open arms, no, but he hoped the two would cross hesitant acceptance and grow to trust each other one day. “Good night, Faither.”
As he got to the door, his father asked, “Why did ye nae give the lass a guest room, son? We have plenty.”
“Because on the journey to Perth I kept close to her,” Lucas replied, “And I daeane want to change it. There will be whispers, I ken, but I want Maisie with me.”
With that he left the room and went back to his, nodding at the guard almost hidden in the shadows. Entering, he decided to quickly wash with buckets of water in the bathing chamber, dried and went to join Maisie in the bed.
She snuffled a little as he tugged her into his arms, then folded into his side and rested her head on his chest. Maisie was such a little thing, so slender and petite but curvy when it mattered and had a spirited temperament—perfect for him.
Her cheek was smooth on his chest, and her hair tickled his chin, but he didn’t mind; all he cared about was having her in his arms and holding her.
In just a few days, she’ll be me wife.
With how his body was primed to wake with the morning light, Lucas slept later than he had in recent memory. Based on the way the light filtered through the small gap in the curtains, he judged it to be well past seven.
His head twisted a little and his gaze traced the smoky line of Maisie’s thick lashes resting on her cheek. Her bare skin under the léine was tempting, calling him to slide his hand over her, tocaress her, kiss her, join their bodies as one—but he refrained. Maisie needed her rest, and he was going to let her get it.
He threw back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed as he heard steps in the corridor and muffled voices coming towards him. Hurriedly, he dragged on a shirt, stuffing into the old pair of trews he had worn to bed and trying to listen as the voices drew nearer.
