“I was simply reminding them that they are all appreciated and invited them to pick up rations in the kitchen before they leave tonight.”
But Ailis noticed some Sinclair women talking intimately with soldiers from other clans. Worry pierced her thoughts of them leaving after the battle. However, she knew many of them were widowed, and perhaps they would find happiness with the soldiers. It would be good for them to find love again.
As the dance concluded, Ailis thanked Lachlan softly. Before he could reply, Duncan appeared at her side, concern etched across his face. “Ailis, may I have a word?” he asked gravely.
“Of course, Father. What is it?”
Duncan’s voice was low and urgent. “Have ye given any more thought to the punishment for Arran and Callum? They’ve beenhere for months now, and I believe it’s time they faced the punishment for their actions.”
Ailis shook her head. “With the war at hand, I had forgotten about them. I cannae ask they be executed, as I won’t have that blood on me hands. And I dinnae think anything less is appropriate, so do as ye will.” Truth be told, she’d forgotten all about their Sinclair prisoners, and simply thinking of a punishment for them was too much for her to handle while they were on the eve of battle.
Lachlan stepped forward. “If I may, Duncan, perhaps I could be the one to mete out their punishment?”
Duncan nodded. “Very well, Lachlan. I trust ye will see that justice is served. It was yer wife who was kidnapped, so in a way, it was a slight directed at ye.”
Ailis focused on her duty to her people and the clan as the conversation shifted to other matters.
Later in their chambers, Ailis turned to Lachlan, concern evident on her face. “How do ye plan to punish Arran and Callum?” She didn’t want to think about how he would punish them, but it seemed important at that moment. She didn’t want blood on his hands any more than she wanted it on her own.
“Dinnae worry about it,” he told her gently but firmly. “It’s not yer burden to bear. Ye are me wife now, and I will take care of the men who took ye prisoner.”
“Lachlan, please,” she implored, stepping closer. “I dinnae need any more blood on me hands.”
“The blood will be on me hands,” he assured her. “I will do what must be done for our clans and our future together.”
Ailis leaned into his touch, feeling both love and fear for what the dawn might bring. She whispered, “Make love to me, Lachlan.”
Lachlan captured her lips in a fervent kiss. Ailis responded, tugging at his clothing, eager for their skin to touch.
Ailis melted into Lachlan’s embrace, heat searing through her veins as his lips caressed hers with a passion that stole her breath. His calloused hands slid along the curves of her waist and back, igniting trails of fire through the thin fabric of her gown. A soft moan escaped her throat, spurring him on.
Lachlan’s nimble fingers made quick work of the laces at the back of her dress. The garment slipped from her shoulders and pooled at her feet. Ailis shivered, though not from the cool evening air on her bare skin. No, the trembling arose from the smoldering intensity in Lachlan’s eyes as his gaze roved over her, drinking in every inch.
Lachlan pulled her flush against him, the heat of his body searing her bare skin. Ailis gasped as she felt the evidence of his arousal pressing insistently against her stomach. Her own desire pooled low in her belly, aching and urgent.
Lachlan’s hands roamed her curves reverently, calluses rasping deliciously along soft, sensitive flesh. “I want to worship every inch of you,” he breathed against the shell of her ear before nipping at the lobe.
Ailis shuddered and arched into him. “Yes, please,” she managed, her own hands tugging impatiently at the fastenings of his shirt. She needed to feel his skin against hers, with no barriers between them.
He aided her efforts, shrugging out of the garment and letting it fall forgotten to the floor. Ailis splayed her fingers over the hard planes of Lachlan’s chest, reveling in the feel of firm muscle beneath heated skin. “Mo ghràdh, you are so beautiful,” he groaned. Lachlan captured her hands and brought them to his lips, kissing each palm reverently before guiding them to the belt holding his kilt in place.
Ailis’s fingers trembled as she unfastened his belt, her eyes never leaving his. The intensity of his gaze sent shivers racingdown her spine. When the last tie loosened, Lachlan kicked the garment away impatiently, leaving him bare before her.
Ailis drank in the sight of him, all hard planes and angles. An awed whisper fell from her lips. “Ye’re magnificent.”
A roguish grin tugged at Lachlan’s lips as he gathered Ailis into his arms, his hardness pressing insistently against her belly. “And you, mo chridhe, are a goddess,” he murmured, his voice husky with desire. “I plan to spend the rest of my days loving ye.”
Ailis shivered at his words, liquid heat pooling between her thighs. Lachlan lowered his head, trailing scorching kisses along the column of her throat as he walked them backward toward the bed. The back of her knees hit the mattress and they tumbled onto the soft furs, a tangle of eager limbs and heated skin.
Lachlan’s weight settled over her, delicious and grounding. He captured her mouth in a searing kiss that left her breathless and aching for more.
Ailis buried her fingers in Lachlan’s thick, dark hair as she returned his kiss with equal fervor. His tongue delved into her mouth, tangling with hers in a sensual dance that left her dizzy and wanting. She could feel the evidence of his need, hot and heavy against her thigh.
Breaking the kiss, Lachlan began to explore the ivory column of her throat with lips and tongue and teeth, wringing breathy sighs from her kiss-swollen lips. Slowly, torturously, he mapped a path of fire along her collarbone and down to the valley between her breasts.
They came together with heat, both of them worried this would be their last time to make love.
Afterward, they lay entwined, hearts beating together while savoring brief tranquility. With Lachlan by her side, Ailis knew their love would be a guiding light amid uncertainty.
