“I thought we could go to the loch and practice.”
He had not yet visited the loch that bordered their land and he let Eilidh lead the way. The path was lined with trees on either side and covered with pine needles, the scent tickling his nose. The trees opened up to a vast loch, the water a deep blue glistening under the sun.
Eilidh unfolded the blanket that he had not noticed she had been carrying and he grabbed two corners so they could spread it evenly on the ground. She set her fiddle case down and sat on the blanket to remove her boots, placing them to the side of the blanket.
“Walk with me along the shore?” she asked, looking up at him, squinting against the sun.
Torquil toed off his boots and clasped her hand. The rocky sand was warm under his feet as they walked, hand in hand, along the water, trying to stay away from the small, cold waves so they didn’t get wet.
“This is one of my favorite places to play,” Eilidh said with a smile. “With only the birds and the fish to listen and judge.”
He nudged her with his shoulder. “I doubt anyone would judge yer playing. If they do, it has to be out of pure jealousy. There is nay fault in yer music.”
She looked up at him, a huge grin on her face. “Ye always ken tosay the right things. ’Tis verra kind of ye.”
“I only speak the truth.” He paused, turning her to face him and held her close. “I would ne’er say aught but.”
Eilidh lifted on her tip toes and kissed him gently. Then squeezed him tight, laying her head on his chest.
He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of heather.
Later as they sat upon the blanket, playing songs they were each familiar with, Torquil realized he never wanted to spend a day out of Eilidh’s presence. She was his life now.
They finished a particularly difficult duet and collapsed onto the blanket in exhaustion, laughing.
Their gazes clashed, fire burning in the depths of their eyes. He dropped his head and kissed her fiercely, the need to be inside her strong. They fumbled with their clothing, coming together quickly, and he buried himself in one quick thrust as she gasped his name near his ear. Her arms tightening around him, pulling him closer. Urging him deeper. Their lovemaking was fast, each of them rising to their climax in moments. Their chests heaving, moans escaping until they both tumbled over the unseen edge.
Torquil rolled onto his back, stroking Eilidh’s hair and shoulders as she snuggled into his side.
“Ye are amazing, Firebrand,” he said, his voice deep, husky.
“As are ye, husband.”
He smiled at her statement. It was the first time she had called him husband as a nickname in their conversation and he found that he rather liked it. He kissed her forehead.
“Yer family willnae break us, Eilidh. No’ unless we let them, and I dinnae ken aboot ye, but I ken I willnae let them.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The next morn,Eilidh woke in sated bliss after another night of she and Torquil exploring each other’s bodies. She was for certs that by now, she kenned every inch of his skin. Every scar. Every muscle. The way they contracted when she gently ran her fingers over them. The way he hissed when she placed her lips on his chest.
She stretched with a sigh, feeling serene and loved. Beside her, Torquil reached out and pulled her into him, kissing her neck.
Completely content, she looked forward to the day ahead. There was naught that could ruin this feeling she had.
A knock sounded, and they both groaned.
“Who could that be?” she said aloud, not expecting anyone. “Go away,” she called out, turning so she could face Torquil. She smiled. His hair was mussed from sleep, his eyes still heavy.
The knock sounded again. “Miss Eilidh,” Joan called out. “I have a message of importance.”
Eilidh sighed.
“Can it no’ wait?” She did not want to leave the warmth of Torquil’s arms.
“I am afraid no’. I am sorry to disturb ye.”
“Fine,” Eilidh grumbled, leaving the heat of Torquil’s body, and slipped on her robe, cinching it tight around her waist.
