Page 89 of Forbidden Kilted Highlander

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Tav woke to Agnes laying curled against his chest, soft bare skin beneath the tangled sheets. One of her legs had found its way between his.

She looked so young like this, unguarded. Her lashes cast shadows on her cheekbones. Her soft lips were parted slightly. Her hair was a riot of copper and gold across his chest, wild and soft and sleep-warmed. His heart ached.

He reached up, slowly, to brush a stray strand of hair from her temple. She didn’t stir. He let his fingers linger for a moment longer than necessary.

She is here. In me arms. This is real.

She shifted slightly against him, and he turned his head to kiss her hair.

“Are ye awake, lass?” he whispered.

A quiet, grumbling sigh answered him. Then her nose nuzzled against his chest.

“Mmh,” she murmured.

He chuckled as Agnes made a sleepy, contented noise, her hand smoothing down his ribs.

“Ye talk in the mornings, then?” she asked without opening her eyes. Her head lifted slightly. Her hair was a mess. Her cheeks were pink. She looked angelic.

He buried his nose in her hair, letting the sweet scent of her settle into his lungs like a vow. Her breath slowed. Her body melted against his. He didn’t know if she was falling asleep again, or simply resting, but he stayed utterly still, not daring to wake her, not daring to break whatever fragile thing they’d conjured between them in the dark.

They stayed like that for a while. At one point she kissed the hollow of his throat, and he nearly wept.

She threaded her fingers through his and held their joined hands against her chest. “Feel that?” she whispered. “Still beatin’. Still here.”

He nodded, too overcome to speak. He had no words for the quiet miracle of her pressed to him like this, like they weren’t running out of time. It was pure bliss—everything Tav had never let himself believe he could have.

Eventually, the light changed. He sighed against her mouth. “I have tae go.”

Agnes blinked up at him. “What?”

“If anyone sees me sneakin’ out of yer room,” he said, brushing his nose against hers, “we’ll both be neck-deep in trouble before breakfast.”

Her expression darkened slightly, but she nodded. “Aye. Ye’re right.”

He kissed her once more, slow and lingering.

“I’ll see ye later,” he murmured. It hurt him to leave her bed.

She nodded again and watched him dress, her eyes quiet. Thoughtful.

Tav left as quietly as he could, slipping through the corridor with the stealth of a thief. His room was still dim when he entered. The window was cracked open, and the early light bled in soft as milk.

He laughed under his breath. It sounded a little mad.

He was in love. Not the way boys loved lasses, this was bigger. A few moments later, Tav startled. There was a knock at the door.

“Aye?”

A servant’s voice, muffled. “Beg pardon, sir. The laird’s been askin’ fer ye. Says it’s urgent.”

Tav frowned. “Did he say why?”

“Nay, sir.”

Tav hesitated. His stomach turned, just slightly.