Margaret smiled faintly, a tiny, watery curve of her lips. "Aye. That sounds like Lilly."
His thumb brushed her hip unconsciously, pressing into the soft skin. "I remember lookin' at her and thinkin' she was impossibly small."
"And loud."
"Very loud."
The smile deepened briefly between them, a shared warmth in the dark. Then it faded again into something much quieter. Much heavier.
"She wrapped her hand around me finger," Fergus said, his throat tightening unexpectedly. "And suddenly everyone was lookin' at me, waitin' for answers I didnae have. I could fight men. Lead men. Build walls. Defend land." His eyes found hers again, intense and unblinking. "But that child looked at me as though I belonged to her already."
Margaret's expression softened so completely it almost hurt to witness. "And ye did," she said.
Fergus stared at her. He then realized, with a strange, blinding clarity, that she had never once questioned his care for Lilly. His competence, maybe, often. But never his heart. That mattered more than he knew how to tell her.
"She needed ye," Margaret continued softly.
"Nay." His voice roughened into a growl. "She needed someone gentler."
"And ye brought her one."
Margaret lifted her hand slowly to his face. The touch was feather-light against his heavy stubble. Her thumb brushedalong the hard line of his jaw. The sheer intimacy of it nearly undid him more than everything else. No one touched him gently. Not really. Not without caution. Not without expecting hardness or violence in return.
Margaret looked at him as though she saw something worth handling carefully.
"Ye are nae alone," she said quietly.
Fergus held her gaze. The room seemed dangerously still.
"Nae anymore," she whispered, her breath hot against his lips. "If ye let me, we will carry this together."
Something in him gave way. He didn't realize he was leaning closer until his mouth brushed softly against hers.
The kiss was entirely different from the others. Not hungry. Not searching. A promise. That was what made it lethal.
His hand slid deep into her copper hair, tilting her head back, demanding entry. Margaret sighed softly into his mouth, her lips parting instantly. The kiss deepened slowly, heavily. Tenderness first. Then something completely uncontrolled. Her body arched instinctively upward, pressing her belly against his. Fergus felt it everywhere. He gripped her hip, burying his mouth harder against hers before he could stop himself. Margaret gasped into the kiss.
His restraint frayed. Snapped.
God.
He wanted this woman. Wanted her with a force that frightened him to his bones. Not simply her body, though that alone was enough to drive a man half mad.
He wanted her laughter in his grim hall. He wanted her sharp voice arguing with him over supper. He wanted her hands reaching for Lilly. He wanted her warmth in his bed every night until he no longer remembered what the cold stone of this castle felt like without her.
The realization struck so hard he nearly pulled back. Margaret felt the sudden tension in his muscles immediately. Her hand slid up to cup his cheek, her thumb wiping a stray moisture from his cheekbone.
"Fergus," she murmured softly.
The sound of it in her voice destroyed the last of his control. He kissed her again. Margaret melted beneath him with a soft sob that made his entire body tighten into iron. The moonlight slid across her skin as she moved, highlighting the curve of her throat, the freckles he now knew by touch.
His hand moved lower, sliding over her ribs to the soft skin of her abdomen. Margaret trembled intensely beneath him. He felt the response in his own groin, his breathing becoming unevenand heavy. He briefly buried his face in the side of her neck, inhaling her scent.
His woman.The thought came fierce, primitive, and possessive enough to scare him.
Margaret's fingers threaded through his dark hair, pulling him closer. "So serious," she whispered softly against his ear.
"I am trying very hard nae to ruin this moment."
