“I could no’ bear for ye to die on my behalf,” she whispered. “But I would die if I married another.”
The distance between them had narrowed until she could feel the warmth of him, the steady rise and fall of his breath, the muscles of his well-trained body pressed flush to hers. Every inch of her sparked with heat, with need. His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from her cheek with a gentleness that stood in contrast to everything she had seen of him in the yard and yet felt no less intentional. She pressed her cheek against his palm, closing her eyes for the briefest moment, wishing with all the breath in her body that the circumstances were different.
“Isabel…” Her name on his lips was a sound she would never tire of hearing.
Isabel placed her hand against his chest, feeling the solid line of him beneath her palm, the steady beat of his heart that seemed just slightly quicker than before. A cadence that matched her own.
“Ye pulled away last time.” She cursed herself for bringing it up, but before she let herself fall harder for this man, she needed to know he wasn’t going to push her away.
His breath caught at that, subtle but unmistakable. A flicker of regret flared in his gaze.
“That was a mistake,” he said. “No’ a mistake I intend to make again.”
This time, when he kissed her, there was no hesitation. The world around them melted away. Isabel slid her hands up around his neck, crushing her body to his. His mouth slanted over hers, his tongue pressing between her lips. Strong hands circled her hips, her lower back, splaying along the planes. Tingles prickled her skin, and she itched to be closer still.
When his mouth shifted from hers to the curve of her neck, a shiver ran through her that had nothing to do with the cool air moving across the training yard. She tilted her neck allowing him further access, hissing at the delicious sensation of his mouth on her skin. Zounds, but she did not want this to end. A whistle sounded from one of the men, and Isabel pushed against him.
Lachlan called for his men to get back to training, and then his gaze returned to hers. Searching with that same quiet intensity, she knew he understood it just as clearly as she did.
“When I’m with ye, I forget where I am. This is no small thing,” he said, his voice roughened now, as though restraint had already begun to slip.
Isabel’s pulse fluttered beneath her skin, but she did not look away. “Nor is it something I will pretend does no’ matter.”
His hand tightened slightly at her waist, his thumb brushing just enough to make her aware of the heat building between them. “If we do this…there is no stepping back. Your uncle will be furious…”
“I will speak to him,” she answered. “I canna deny my heart.”
That was all it took. The last of his restraint gave way. When he kissed her again, it was deeper, more demanding, his mouth moving over hers with a hunger he no longer tried to hide. Isabel met him fully, arms wrapping over his shoulders, as she leaned into him, her body answering his without hesitation.
The world beyond them blurred. The men in the yard forgotten. The rules of propriety long since abandoned.
His hands moved with more certainty now, no longer testing, no longer holding back. They slid from her waist along the curve of her back, drawing her closer until there was no space left between them, until she could feel the full strength of him, the heat of him, the unmistakable evidence of his desire pressing against her.
Her breath caught at the contact of his arousal to her belly. And something inside her answered, heat pooling low and insistent. Isabel shifted closer, her hips moving against him without thought and Lachlan groaned low in his throat, the sound rough and unguarded.
“Isabel…” he warned, though there was no real warning in it.
“I dinna want to stop,” she said, her voice unsteady now, but certain.
Lachlan lifted her with sudden, effortless strength, his mouth never leaving hers as he carried her from the open yard into the castle, up the circular stairwell and into a chamber that was not her own.
She half expected Elsa and any other number of staff to come barging through the door demanding him release her. But no one came as he set her down and pressed her back to the cool, stone wall. No one came when his mouth crashed hot and heady against her again and again.
His mouth moved from hers to her throat, his lips and tongue tracing a path that made her breath catch, then shudder. Every touch seemed to settle deeper than the last, awakening something she had not fully understood until now.
Her fingers fumbled slightly at his clothing, grasping the edge of his leine, pulling at it until he caught her hands with his own, a rough laugh escaping him.
“Easy, lass,” he murmured, though he did not sound inclined to slow at all.
“Then dinna make me wait,” she returned, breathless. “I need ye.” And she did, desperately.
Heavily lidded eyes met her gaze, and what she saw there made something inside her body soar. The intense look of desire was enough to drag her under.
He kissed her again, deeper, as his hands moved with purpose, helping her free herself from the confines of her gown, before tugging at his own garments. Fabric loosened, shifted, fell away in pieces that neither of them cared to track, until there was nothing left between them but warmth and skin and the rising urgency neither of them tried to deny.
Bare now, Lachlan explored her body with a deftness that only made her tingle all the more—Isabel gasped, her head tipping back against the stone as sensation rushed through her, sudden and consuming. She had thought she understood desire before this moment. She had not.
“God, ye feel…” he muttered, his voice breaking off as though he could not quite find the words.
