“And is it a sight ye might wish tae see again, me lady?” he teased.
He watched the delicate arch of her throat as she swallowed, hard, enjoying her discomfort. He could only guess at how her body was responding to his, yet she still did not turn her gaze away.
The urge to stride across to where she stood was almost impossible to resist. Yet, to his shocked amazement, it was Annora who paced the few steps to stand close to him.
She reached a hand and brushed his shoulder and down his arm, gazing into his eyes, her touch igniting smoldering flames inhim. Without further thought, he swept her into his embrace. He had to kiss her.
He lowered his head and softly took her lips in his, expecting at any second, she would pull away. Then all thinking was extinguished by the honeyed taste of her lips and her quivering response to his touch.
Holding her gently he deepened the kiss, touching her lower lip briefly with his tongue. Her arms came up, circling his neck, while her long, elegant fingers, tangled the hair at his nape. Her softness melded with his hardness and, for only a moment, he allowed the overriding pleasure of this stolen moment to course through his body.
It was then he jolted his head back, releasing her from his embrace.
He hauled in a deep breath and blew it out before he spoke. She was looking at him, blinking, her eyes wide, while he attempted to gather himself.
“Milady, please excuse me trespass. I was quite out of line. It was ne’er me intention tae take advantage of ye in such a way. I was once more overcome by yer nearness and the touch of ye on me skin…” He shook his head. “It was unforgivable of me.”
In response to his stumbling apology, her laugh was like a life raft to a drowning man. He looked at her hardly able to believe his ears.
“Mayhap it was me who trespassed. I wished tae feel the strength and hardness of yer body. I didnae give it thought but followed me own impulsiveness.”
He chuckled and reached for his clean shirt and pulled it on. After tucking it into his kilt he smoothed his hair and proffered his arm.
“Come. I am famished and ready fer me supper.”
He did not add that he was famished and ravenous for her.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
They joined the Elders at the high table, Tormod insisting that Edmund take the seat at the head as would befit the laird. He raised a hand when Edmund went to protest.
“Whether ye take the lairdship or nae, ye are the duly appointed heir and the son of the late Laird Baldur. As such, it is our duty tae pay ye the respect ye are owed.”
Edmund looked down at the sea of smiling faces, swept by a sense that this was where he belonged.
One by one, the Elders took the opportunity to speak with him about the events of the day.
Gilleasbiug leaned over, nodding sagely. “Tormod told us what ye achieved today. Seems ye settled a feud that we all thought was past mending.”
Edmund shook his head. “It all boiled down tae them working it out fer themselves.”
“Nay lad. There was old anger there.” He took a draught of ale and lowered his tankard. “Tormod told us of the way ye spoke tae the lads. Respecting, listening as they each spoke their grievances. Then ye took the time and made the effort tae visit the land and see fer yerself.”
Gaufried broke in. “The ability tae listen and show respect in the manner ye did today is greatly valued and it is why they listened tae yer suggestions.”
Edmund was still basking in the goodwill showered on him by the Elders, when a glowering Harris MacDonald stalked in, followed by a worried-looking Tyra. They took their seats opposite the Elders.
When Lamend raised a tankard to Edmund’s good health, the scowl on Harris’s face deepened.
“Methinks ye are making too much of Edmund Sinclair’s easy resolution of the long-lasting feud between the shepherds.” He plucked a piece of oatbread and dunked it in his soup. “This man has nay experience with the law. Why…” he turned to Tormod, “I daresay it was yer advice that helped him tae a resolution.”
Silence fell over the table and for a few moments Harris’s words hung over them. Then Tormod stood and raised his tankard.
“Tae yer good health, Edmund and Lady Annora.Slainte mhath.”
The others raised their drinks, nodding in agreement. All except Harris, who kept his eyes downcast. Tyra shifted in her seat and looked up, clearly uncomfortable. Then she did the unthinkable, and raised her cup.
Harris lifted his hand and knocked the cup to the table, spilling the ale so that it splashed on Annora’s kirtle. “Ye’ll nae drink tae the health of the lad who is trying tae seize what’s rightfully yers.”
