Page 50 of The Dragon Laird’s Obsession

Gordon forgot the village, the raid, and everything that troubled his mind just at the sight of her.

His chest ached now, and he did not understand why.

She looked peaceful in her sleep, and he could not bring himself to disrupt that.

Gordon stepped into the room, closed the door quietly behind him, and crossed toward her.

One of the paintings lay beneath her hand.

He recognized it at once.

Me mother.

The painting was poorly done. He had been young when he painted it, and by then, his memories of her had already begun to slip away. He had painted what he could remember: the color of her hair, the shape of her eyes, the gentleness he could no longer quite recall but had carried all his life.

Alistair had called it a waste of time.

Paintings will nae make ye strong. Fightin’ will.

He had taken the brush from Gordon’s hand and broken it across his knee. Gordon had never painted again or looked at his paintings. Until now, when Ailis had found the pieces of his childhood hidden in chests and spread them across his floor like treasures.

His gaze returned to her. She had been looking at them, and now, she had seen the part of him he never allowed anyone near.

A strange vulnerability opened inside his chest.

He crouched beside her and lifted a hand, but it hovered close instead of touching her face. One curl had fallen across her cheek. His heart hammered so fast, he nearly forgot how to breathe. Exhaling deeply, he finally brushed the strand away from her face.

Ailis made a small sound in her sleep, her lashes fluttering before settling again.

Gordon’s hand remained suspended near her cheek.

His thumb moved before reason could stop it. It touched the edge of her lower lip. It was soft and warm. His thumb lingered on it for one heartbeat as he recalled their taste and the way she responded, melting into him.

I want to feel that again.

Then Gordon pulled his hand away as if he had touched flame.

Saints.

He looked at her mouth again, and longing moved through him so sharply that he had to close his eyes.

If he merely wanted to kiss and touch her again, then it would have been easier. Instead, he wanted to hear her laugh too and simply watch her paint with Lileas or walk around the grounds with Marion.

“Nay,” he whispered to himself as he realized what was happening.

I cannae want those things.

Ailis stirred on the floor, and he worried he had woken her.

He immediately bent and slipped one arm behind her back and the other beneath her knees. She was lighter than he expected.

The moment he lifted her, she instinctively moved toward him. Her arms slid around his neck. Gordon froze at the contact of her bare skin on his neck.

Her cheek pressed against his chest, and her breath warmed the side of his throat.

He inhaled before he could stop himself. His body stirred in the most delicious way possible. She smelled warm, like heather and lavender.

Her scent moved through him like fire beneath ash. His body tightened even harder, and his heart began pounding so hard he was certain it would wake her.