Page 67 of Return of the Scot
“And neither would I.”
“I used to be scared of who I was. Scared of being alone. Of relinquishing control if I did ever…” The column of her throat bobbed. “If I ever found someone.”
“I would never take away your control, lass. Well, perhaps only when I had ye naked and pinned beneath me.”
“Ye’re a rogue.”
“Aye, but I’m a rogue who wants ye, lass. A rogue who would never expect ye to give up the things ye love, what ye’ve worked for. I would give ye anything ye asked.”
“Even the thing ye prized the most,” she mused, referring back to his statement in the carriage that he would give her Dunrobin.
“Even that. I’ll ask ye once more if ye’d be my wife, Jaime.” Lorne was certain he could no longer live without her. She fascinated him absolutely. She was grounded, determined, independent. Someone he could lean on and confide in without judgment. Having grown up in an undependable world lasting into adulthood, she was what he needed most. No secrets. No games.
Exactly what he needed.
Jaime’s lips parted. However, nothing came out but a sigh. He thought she would pull away. Stand up and cross the room to put as much distance between them as she possibly could, as she had done every other time. But she didn’t. It felt as though she might have been sinking closer to him.
“Aye,” she whispered.
Lorne’s breath left him in a whoosh, and he hadn’t the power to suck it back in. Had he heard her correctly? Aye.
“I know ’tis wrong,” Jaime was saying. “To have wanted ye and loved ye for as long as I have, but I can no’ fight it any longer. Society be damned.”
Loved…
Lorne couldn’t breathe. Perhaps he’d fallen and hit his head when the ship jerked. That was it. He was hearing things all wrong.
“Say something,” Jaime said, her brow furrowing in that way he liked.
“I love ye, too.” Those were not the words he’d expected to come out of his mouth. Not by a long shot. He’d been thinking more along the lines of “What? What did ye say?”
But there they were. Devotional words that captured the depth of his feelings, the truth of his heart.
Jaime grinned. “How?”
“How could I no’?”
“I’m a hoyden. I stole your castle, and I wished ye dead.”
“And ye loved me, lass.”
Lorne rolled with her until she was pinned under him. Her lush body felt so right, and his hard places sank against all her softer ones. Leaning upon his elbow, he stared down into her gorgeous face. Creamy cheeks flushed. Her eyes searched his for answers he’d happily give her for the rest of their days. He settled his pelvis against hers, a lithe leg bent at the knee pressed to his hip.
“How could it be wrong?” he asked. “It should have been ye from the beginning.”
“My father would have never allowed it, nor my mother.”
“Neither would ye,” he said with a smile, kissing her briefly. “No’ if it meant taking something from your sister.”
“Even when she did no’ want it.”
“Ye’re too generous.”
“And yet I took your castle.”
He chuckled softly. “Maybe ye acquired it because ye wanted a piece of me.”
“But I gifted it to my sister.”
