Chapter Four
Iftheyremainedabsenttoo long, it would be noticed, that Sawny knew for certain. As much as he despised letting Adaira go, time and obligation forced his hands. A few quick kisses in the dark would be all he’d have of her this night.
“Only a few days more, my love,” Sawny told her as he led her back to the kitchens. They picked their way through the burgeoning garden growth, lettuce leaves and carrot stalks lining the way. They paused near the kitchen door. “Then naught will separate us.”
That was the fantasy he longed to believe. He had been raised rough and wild, trailing his cousins as they reived and fought among clan and enemies. The moment he met Adaira, something inside him softened, and the foundation under his feet shifted. Her deep green eyes caught him in a stare that webbed him up like the spider traps her prey, and he was smitten from then on.
Theirs was a true love match, and if their betrothal worked out according to their parents’ machinations, so much the better. No arranged marriage or unrequited love for them.
Quite requited, on the contrary.
His cock flexed under his kilt at the memory of earlier that day in the woods.
Sawny could not get enough of her. He was like a man possessed.
Surely no man before him had ever loved a woman so passionately.
He glanced to his side to peer at her cherubic profile with a hidden, heated gaze.
Or been loved so passionately in return. Adaira gave all of herself to him — her body, her smile, her kind and supportive words, her whole self.
Aye, a fantasy love indeed. And he hated when they had to leave that fantasy and return to the real world of family conflicts and Highland politics.
If he had his way, he would run away with her and hide themselves from the world.
“That sounds heavenly,” she’d said when he spoke the heartfelt words aloud. No mocking, no condescending, no pandering to his foolish romantic ideas. Nay, she’d run away with him in a trice.
Thatwas what he loved about her.
“Ye are heavenly,” he said in a heady voice as he wrapped his arm around her waist before they entered the kitchens and left this fantasy. “Ye are the light to my dark, the soft to my hardness, the calm to my wild. Ye are my heaven, right here in my arms.” Her breathing increased, pushing her ample breasts high against the flat planes of his chest. He kissed the tip of her nose. “We could go. I would take ye away now. We could. I’m sure the isles have some parts that are unexplored, where we might find a croft and live quite peaceably. Just you and me.”
She squeezed his hand lightly. “Aye. Mayhap a cow for milk and butter, and a garden.”
“I’d give ye as many cows as ye wanted. Chickens too, if ye want eggs.”
“I could find a use for them,” she replied as she bit her lip. “I can make ye a fine Scotch egg.” A slight sigh that broke the night air followed her claim.
Sawny paused, stepped in front of, and took both of her hands in his.
“What ails ye, my love?”
Adaira flicked her gaze to the side before speaking. “I fear that these dreamy words are just that, dreams. What if something happens to us?”
The worry was an odd consideration coming from someone as bright and lively as Adaira. It was not like her to let shadows gather in her mind.
“Ye mean, given the state of the Highlands, and my family’s pressing issues with the MacIntoshes? Aye, ‘tis understandable that ye worry for our safety.”
“I feel like I am constantly waiting for something to go wrong. Since Camden’s death, and the battles your family has fought as of late, I fear that all our hopes and dreams might be taken away in a heartbeat. ‘Tis like we are in this perfect bubble, and at any moment, ‘twill pop.”
Her fear was valid. Who did not have a concern for the well-being of family and kin in the Highlands as of late? Scottish politics and clan division had become dangerous things. And his clan of Keppoch MacDonalds was not known for their level-headedness.
They were renown as wild, ruthless heathens. Sawny had frankly been shocked that the austere Seamus MacDonald had permitted him to court his daughter.
Sawny leaned down until his forehead touched hers. Her worried green eyes were naught more than darkened orbs in the flickering torchlight.
“I vow to ye, Adaira, that all I say to ye is true. And I will fight to the very end to keep ye by my side. I will let naught, and I meannaught, stop us from being together and living this life we have. I’d stand alone before a thousand men with naught but my sword to make certain that happens.”
Then he kissed her. His excitement for her surged in his chest and groin, and he pressed his hardness against her hip.
