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Chapter Thirteen
They embraced, breathing heavily for a few moments before Jamie said, “Sorry, lass, I’ll clean that up for ye.” And he tied up his trews and went to grab the pitcher on a side table and wetted a cloth to come wipe the table and her dress.
“Oh, ‘tis nothing. Jamie?”
He looked up at her, and she was smiling. “That was the most wonderful thing I’ve ever experienced.” She sighed contentedly. “How did you know that is what I needed, to make the ache go away?”
Jamie cleared his throat uncomfortably, and rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. “‘Tis normal for a young man tae have a few experiences now and then.” He didn’t make eye contact.
“Ah, I see.” He looked up to see her face, not angry, but thoughtful. “Seeing as you’ve had experience, did I do it right?”
He laughed at her slightly furrowed brow, and he kissed her lightly on the lips. “Amelia, ye were perfect, so beautiful, so strong. And yes, ye can tell ye did it right as I’ve got tae clean meself up after.” He winked.
He kept cleaning while Amelia whispered, almost to herself. “I suppose I am not virginal anymore, not that it matters much anyway.” He saw her shrug and then adjust her dress before jumping down from the desk.
“Nay, ye still have yer virginity.” She turned in surprise, unknowingly having expressed her inner thoughts aloud.
“I do? But what was that we just did? Was that not a tryst?”
Jamie rubbed his beard and went to sit behind the desk. “Certainly, of sorts. But, that was not the full act. The full act would be...my...uh...tool, pushing inside of you.”
“Really?” Amelia looked fascinated. “I suppose that makes sense, but my father always hid me from such discussions. But...you’re huge. I don’t think that ye’d fit.”
He chuckled and crossed his arms. “Ye’ve unknowingly complimented me lass. But, aye, I would fit. ‘Tis a natural act.” His eyes darkened with heat as he stared at her fascinated face.
She giggled. “Well, I suppose I need to go to my chamber. Lady Fiona will be wondering why I have dark circles under my eyes if I do not get any sleep.” Jamie tried not to let his disappointment show. She smiled and walked to the door.
Jamie stood to say goodbye, and she turned once in front of the door. “Thank you so much for the beautiful gift, Jamie. I’ll get started on that story.”
He walked over to her and before she could say anything else, he placed his lips on hers, a gentle parting kiss, like two whose urgent passions have been wonderfully sated. “Good night, lass. And yer welcome.”
Amelia stood back, the little furrow in her brow returned. “Good night.” And she dazedly left the room.
Jamie moved back to his desk and poured himself a whisky. He rubbed his face over his hand in utter surprise. “Now what the bloody hell was that?”
* * *
Donald sat in the main hall of Kinnaird Fort, barren of furniture except for a few odd wooden tables and chairs. The hall was not as large as in the castle, but it had been richly furnished in the past before his father’s death, and now he’d had to sell much to pay for his own keep. None of his plans had turned out as he’d hoped.
“Ye bloody fool,” He said to Alana as he sat across from her in the darkened main hall, just the evening before Hogmanay. “Ye were supposed tae get whatever information ye could, not simply beg for his bloody cock.”
“I tried,” Alana whined. She was dressed warmly, as if she’d walked to the fort from a long distance away. “But he wasnae interested in bringing me anywhere near to his workroom. He wasnae interested in any tryst, so how was I tae get intae that room?”
Donald’s sharpened features hardened as he looked at her.
“What good are ye? Nothin’. Ye’ve brought me nothin’. And now, ye won’t get yer precious Jamie either.”
“I want me money.”
“Not a foking chance in hell. Ye’ve not done what I’ve asked.”
She stood, gathering her woolen plaid around her. “I could try again, at the Hogmanay feast.”
“Nay, I donnae want any other disappointments. I’ll need tae find someone else.” His dark eyes stared at her standing figure, and Alana felt a chill run through her. She turned to look at the hunting knives Donald had so proudly displayed on the wall, their sharpened edges gleaming in the firelight. She didn’t want to press him any further.
“I do have a thought, though, which may be of use.”
“Aye, and what’s that?” Donald didn’t raise his glance from the flames.
