Abruptly, Arthur broke their kiss. His arms stayed wrapped around her.
They were both panting, their breaths mingling in the space between them as Marissa fought to get her heart rate under control. Her lips were swollen from the force of their kiss. And, as she turned her gaze upward, his grey eyes were ablaze with desire as he regarded her.
“Ye want more,” he murmured.
His words sent a feeling that she couldn’t name racing through her. It was dark and delicious, and her body arched into him of its own accord.
He chuckled, and she felt the rumble of it deep within her bones.
“Dinnae worry, lass.” Arthur’s words were liquid honey, dripping over her and making her feel alive under the weight of his sweet touch. “There’ll come a time, sooner than ye think, where ye’ll be beggin’ for it.”
He leaned forward, pressing one more hard kiss to her lips, and then he was gone, striding down the hallway in the direction of his rooms.
She recalled for a moment that he’d said she’d have to tell him how to get there. But she hadn’t.
Still, he walked down the corridor and turned to the right, just as she would have instructed him to.
Almost as if he’d known the way the entire time.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Iam goin’ to miss ye.”
Marissa’s shoulders shook as she held tightly onto Abigail. She’d hugged Freya already, consoling her oldest sister, who had been on the verge of blubbering from the moment she’d laid eyes on her that morning.
I wonder if they can notice that I didnae get any sleep last night.
Because the Lord knows that she hadn’t. From the moment Arthur had left her at the door to her bedchambers, her mind had been racing.
“I’m goin’ to miss ye as well,” she murmured in Abigail’s ear, squeezing her sister’s shoulders as tightly as she could.
“Ye promise this is what ye want?”
Abigail’s question was little more than a whisper. She’d known that her sister had her doubts. Abigail had said as much when they spoke before getting ready for the feast the night before.
But Marissa had hoped that seeing her dancing and interacting with the Laird would assuage some of her worries. Apparently, that had not been the case.
Taking a step back, Marissa held her sister at arm’s length. “I promise this is what I want,” she assured her, careful to keep her voice low.
This was a conversation she only wanted the two of them to know about.
“I wouldnae have agreed to it otherwise,” she added.
She gave Abigail a moment to study her face, ensuring that she didn’t so much as flinch under the weight of her younger sister’s gaze. Finally, Abigail nodded.
Marissa knew that the same question would likely be asked again. She could see it now—Abigail trying to convince her to run and come home moments before her wedding.
But Marissa would not be swayed. For better or worse, her mind had been made up, and she was going to see this through.
“I believe that’s everythin’,” Cody called out.
He and Michael had been helping the servants load the carriage. As Marissa let go of Abigail and turned around, she found the two men covered in sweat as the last trunk was secured into the wagon.
“Do ye think ye have enough?” Arthur muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow as he walked toward her.
Just like Cody and Michael, Arthur had been adamant that he help this morning. Marissa had been able to tell from his pent-up energy that he was ready to leave. So, she hadn’t interacted with him much as she and her sisters waited for everything to be loaded.
“I’m sure I could scrounge up some more if ye’d like,” Marissa quipped, giving him a broad and winsome smile.
