Page 7 of Dark Side of the Laird
“Just as I said, someone may be coercing Isabella to marry you—the king and her brother—but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to.” She wrapped her arms around my neck. “You are one handsome, charismatic, intense man. I’ve wanted you from the moment I met you.”
“So ye think she desires me?” I wiggled my brows and tucked my arms around her waist so she couldn’t escape me.
“You’re a brute.” Emma pouted in a way that made me want to take her to bed again. To prove how much a brute I was not, and how much she was the only woman for me.
“I’m sure Cook would love your help in the gardens, picking last minute harvests. Maybe even helping with storing everything for winter. With the first frost already coming, the crops are in danger of being ruined.”
Emma sighed. “You’ve convinced me. You know, I never knew how much I liked gardening and watching food grow before I came here.”
I chuckled. “And how did you grow your food before?”
She gave me a worried look. “You’re going to think this is odd, but I bought it at a market. We had these great big buildings filled with food, all year round. It was shipped from warmer places in winter or greenhouses, fresh things in crates and non-perishables in boxes.”
“Non-perishable? Sounds evil. And warmer places? How could it be warm somewhere else? And what is a greenhouse?” There were so many things about her world I’d yet to understand. Sounded like a fantasy, unreal and weak. They’d not dealt with the hardships we had that made us strong.
Emma smiled up at me, brushed an errant strand of hair from my forehead. “A greenhouse is a tiny house that is built for plants. It has a clear ceiling so the sun can reach the plants, but it’s insulated to keep it warm.”
“Clear ceiling?”
She nodded. “Glass or plastic—a synthetic material.”
“Huh.” I wanted to build one. Right away.
“And, there are places where the weather is different than here. You have spring, summer, fall and winter, where your weather gradually changes from warm to cold and back again. There are places in the world where it is warm all the time, and places where it is cold all the time.”
“Where are these places?” Emma’s view of the world was amazing and I wanted to see it, to experience it the way she told me.
“It is warm all the time in the south, and on tropical islands. Cold all the time in the north, kind of like the tips of your mountains always have a bit of ice.”
I grunted my acknowledgement, trying to let all of her information sink in. “’Haps ye should show cook how to build a greenhouse. I would love to eat fresh fruit in winter.”
Emma frowned, wrinkling up her pert little nose. I leaned down, kissed the tip of it.
“I could try, but truth be told, I don’t know much about greenhouses, or designing a building.”
“I’ll send for a master builder.”
She shrugged. “I guess it couldn’t hurt to try.”
“And then ye’d have a nice project to work on.”
Her interest suddenly flared into irritation. I could see the sudden shift in her eyes before she pushed it aside.
“What is it?” I asked.
“You’re trying to give me hobbies. Keep me busy. Why?” She sounded suspicious.
“I am not trying to divert ye, lass. Ye mentioned yourself that ye enjoyed gardening. I’m but giving ye a way to do it every day, if ye like.”
Still, she frowned. She looked so adorable. Marred brow, flushed red cheeks, pouty lips and her red hair wild from where I’d threaded my fingers into it while we made love.
“I promise there is nothing untoward about my suggestion,” I said, leaning forward and nuzzling her neck. She smelled delicious, and my cock responded, lifting and nudging her thigh.
Emma sighed, shifting her thigh back and forth, making me hot for her all over again. “All right,” she murmured.
I trailed a finger down her arm, swirling in the crook of her elbow. “A lady of the castle often has projects that make the castle a better place. My mother loved to sew tapestries. Her mother before that made cushions and blankets. Many of those items still grace the chambers of Gealach today. But ye, what will ye do?”
She raised an impertinent brow. “I’m not mistress of the castle.”
