Arthur grinned. “I told ye they werenae so bad. But dinnae try to touch ‘em now. I’m certain they wouldnae thank ye for that.”
She scoffed at him. “Dinnae worry. I’ll nae try to touch a duck, or any bird for that matter, for quite a long time.”
“But mayhap ye can admit that they’re nae so bad. Now, what did ye call them? Foul creatures?” he teased.
She smirked as she turned her gaze back to him. She looked lovely like this.
The sun had moved higher in the sky, painting the tips of her auburn hair golden. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were bright. And Arthur could not help himself.
He bent down, brushing his lips across hers in a soft, gentle kiss.
“I want to get married by the loch,” she murmured, her mouth moving against his lips.
It made him smile, and when he pulled back to gaze down at her, she was smiling, too.
“What about the ducks?” he asked, nodding his head in their general direction.
With a huff of a laugh, Marissa shook her head.
“I dinnae want to get married right at this spot.” She took a moment to look around them for the first time, no doubt taking in the scenery beyond the ducks. “Mayhap over by the cave? Along the beach there?”
It was not a hard decision for Arthur. In fact, he didn’t need time to consider it at all.
He nodded. “If that’s what ye want, then that’s what we’ll do.”
Marissa’s cheeks flushed with delight. “Thank ye.”
He kissed her again, and she rose on her tiptoes, giving him greater access.
All of their previous kisses had been filled with passion. There’d been a need behind them, a need to devour. To act in a moment where they’d been driven by their baser instincts.
But now, the kiss they shared was soft and tender. Something that Arthur had never truly experienced. Not quite like this.
And it was easy for him to give himself over to it entirely. His hands explored her body gently, his fingers running up and down her back, pressing her to him more firmly.
She moaned low in her throat, the kiss deepening into something that became all-consuming. The loch no longer existed.
Arthur could no longer hear the quacking of the ducks. Could no longer smell the water on the breeze or feel or focus on anything else that was not Marissa.
“Well, this is quite lovely,” a cruel, sneering voice said, breaking the spell that had fallen over them.
Marissa yipped in surprise, jumping back from Arthur and out of his arms. Arthur whirled around, immediately sweeping his arm back to push her behind him.
Men stood along the bank of the loch, no more than twenty feet away from them. His gaze swept over them, counting them as quickly as he could.
Ten. Ten men stood, glaring at him.
The man standing in the center, with the others all fanned around him, was clearly in charge.
It was likely him who spoke.
That suspicion was confirmed a moment later when the man spoke again. His eyes flicked over Arthur’s shoulder, landing directly on Marissa. Arthur heard her quick intake of breath, the quiet, subtle “nay” that she whispered as she stared at the man.
“It’s a pleasure to see ye again, Marissa,” the man said, his mouth curling into a wide smile, revealing a set of yellowed teeth.
Arthur didn’t need her to say it. Did not need to hear her utter the words. He knew precisely who the man standing in front of him was.
So, it came as no surprise when Marissa opened her mouth and said one simple word. Or rather, aname. A name filled with so much contempt and fear that it seemed to shoot through Arthur like an arrow to his heart.
