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She mustered a small smile. “I would like that very much.”
“Scott, tell Mary we willnae be back until late, and make certain that the council never ken I was here.” Noah thrummed with an excited sort of mischief. In all his years as Laird of Huxtable, he could not recall a time when he had set aside his duties in the name of fun. He’d certainly never done so in the name of love, or something like it. Surely, he’d earned one afternoon of doing what he desired.
Scott nodded. “Aye, M’Laird. Ye two enjoy yerselves.”
With that, Noah turned the horse around and headed back into the forest with his wife in his arms, racing toward a secluded spot that only they knew about.
* * *
“I’m sure it wasnae anythin’ but a gossipmonger with naught else to do,” Noah told Saoirse, as they sat together on the rocky lip of a clear pool. To their right, a waterfall frothed downward, spouting from the middle of a short cliff.
She’d just informed him of what had really happened in the forest, and though he was trying to be calm, for her sake, the thought of her being in danger made his blood boil. Who would dare to frighten his wife like that? Who would dare to take advantage of her misplaced kindness?
“I thought the same, for a while, but… she was very unsettlin’. If Scott hadnae come along when he did, I daenae ken what might have happened to me.” Saoirse showed him her wrist, which bore four thin marks. They would bruise; he could see that.
He took hold of her hand and pressed his lips to the marks. “Will ye promise me somethin’,mo cuishle?”
“Anythin’,” she replied, smiling. “Well, within reason.”
“I ken ye like yer freedoms, and I wouldnae deny ye anythin’, but… promise me that ye willnae walk alone again beyond the Castle walls. Even if it annoys ye, take an escort. Mary, at the very least.” His heart ached, thinking of the peril she’d been in. She likely didn’t even realize the magnitude of it. She was the Lady of Huxtable now, and that made her a target for anyone who might have an ax to grind with Noah.
I forget how sheltered she was before we married. A lass would have to have a naïve view of the world to walk through forests on her own, with a laden coin purse bouncin’ on her hip.Yet, it charmed him, too. He liked her naivety. He liked her sweetness and her innocence, so long as it didn’t put her in danger.
“I have been rather foolish, havenae I?” Saoirse lowered her gaze.
Noah rested his fingertips underneath her chin, tilting her head back up. “I wouldnae have ye any other way, Saoirse. I adore yebecauseof yer kind nature and yer occasional inexperience with the world.”
“I’m nae as inexperienced as I was,” she replied with an arched eyebrow. “I suppose we’ve both learned valuable things from another. Ye now ken how to control yer temper, and I—”
He caught her mouth with his, hot and fierce and hungry. He’d been waiting to do that since they’d ridden away from the Castle. There was something about being pressed against her, moving with the rhythm of the charging horse, with his arm around her that had driven him into a passionate fever. But it was also impossible to give into, while they were in the saddle, riding fast.
Now, by the waterfall, having heard her tale and letting her release herself from the fear of it, they could both find comfort in one another.
“I now ken that I cannae finish a sentence without ye kissin’ me,” she teased, her words breathless against his lips. “Though, I cannae say that I mind.”
He kissed her again, slow and deep. It was a dance they’d done countless times, and he knew he would never tire of it. Whenever their lips met, it was like coming home after being away for a long time. Familiar but new, comfortable but exciting. And every kiss had its own meaning, spoken in a language that only they understood. When he woke up with her beside him, that first kiss meant “Good morning.” When he fell asleep with her in his arms and lightly kissed her hair, it meant, “I’m falling in love with you.” But when they kissed like this, as if their life depended on it, it meant, “I will never get enough of you.”
Casting one secret look around to make sure they were alone in the secluded spot, Noah put his fingertips to the task of undressing her. Realizing his intention, Saoirse did the same, until they were naked and entwined on the warm rock.
Noah never liked to rush his enjoyment of her, but sometimes the fire in his veins burned too hot to take his time. After seeing Saoirse in the arms of another man, however innocently, he knew he would not be able to draw out the moment. He needed to feel her. Needed to know she was still his. As her hand slipped between them, guiding him inside her, he realized that she must have needed similar reassurance.
Her back arched as he pierced her, and a strangled cry of satisfaction echoed above the babble of the waterfall. Noah’s throaty gasp joined the sweet sound, stirring him to feverish heights. Her fingernails dug into his arms as she raised her head up, crushing her kiss against his mouth.
They moved as one, a tangle of limbs and desire, their skin hot against the cool breeze that swept away from the pool. With every thrust, Noah thought he might lose himself in the bliss of her. She made him feel as if he were more than human—a being blessed with the gift of her, and the intense pleasure that just her kiss could ignite in him.
Driven by his need for her, he quickened his pace, plunging into her as if she were the only thing keeping him alive. Frantic breaths of flesh.
“Noah! Oh, Noah!” Saoirse suddenly cried out.
Her body stilled beneath him, her neck straining under the pressure of her conclusion. Her teeth grazed her lower lip as the tension ebbed, turning into a tremble that shivered her from head to toe.
Deep within her, he felt the pulse of her pleasure, sparking around his manhood. The sensation tipped him over the edge, and as he thrust once more, he spilled his seed in the heat of that silken well. As if to keep the throb of him within her, Saoirse locked her legs around his hips, holding him to her as her arms wrapped around him.
He collapsed into her, breathing hard. “I missed ye,” he growled against her neck.
“I missed ye more,” she murmured back, running her hands through his hair.
A short while later, he withdrew and rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. Gazing up at a clear blue sky, where sparrows flitted, he toyed with the silky strands of her hair. She rested her cheek on his chest and nestled into his side, tracing patterns on his skin with her fingertip.
