caught his stare.
He quickly regretted his irritation, and flashed her a genuine smile. How could he not? Every time he looked at her, she brought about feelings inside him of both joy and irritation. A war he didn’t understand, and was reluctant to explore.
Lorna broke away from the maidens. From behind her, he was surprised to see that Heather grabbed their aunt from the line of matrons and tugged her into the circle. Neither Heather nor Fiona paid Lorna any attention. Instead, they continued to dance as though Lorna had never left their side.
He raised a curious brow, eyes never leaving Lorna as she sauntered toward him. The glow of the fire surrounded her. Cheeks flushed with excitement. It was a look he could have seen every day for the rest of his life and been happy.
“My lady,” he said softly as she approached.
“I’d thought ye’d gone to bed, my laird.”
“Not as yet.” He couldn’t tell her he’d come back outside to catch another glimpse of her. His gaze raked over her and he ground his teeth to keep from grabbing her and tossing her over his shoulder. Her gown was not immodest, but that didn’t matter, it hugged her curves in all the right places and tempted his imagination with what might swell and arch beneath. All sorts of primal and possessive emotions spilled through him.
“I’m glad,” she said, gifting him with one of her sensual smiles.
He was tempted to ask how much wine she’d had to drink. Jamie wasn’t one to take advantage of a lass, even if she’d let him kiss her before, and even if his need to taste her sweet lips again was nearly overpowering him. Could it be the whisky? The two cups had warmed his blood, but seeing Lorna, that had put a true fire into him.
“As am I,” he managed to answer.
“When do ye leave?” she asked.
“At first light.”
Disappointment clouded her features. “Will another fifteen years pass before I see ye again?”
A bold question and one he wished he could answer, but in truth… “One can hope ’twill be sooner. Much sooner.” He’d not meant to say that. Where the hell did that come from?
“One?” she asked, searching his gaze.
Och, why did lasses always want a man to expand on the things a man said? Didn’t they understand men had only so many words of emotion they could utter?
“Aye, lass, I would hope to see ye before fifteen years passes us by.”
“As would I.” She frowned, chewing her lip. “My brother told me why ye’d come here.”
“Did he?”
She nodded, but didn’t expound on her statement. Instead, she fiddled with her fingers and what looked like a woven grass ring. Jamie couldn’t help but postulate about what her brother had said. But that was the last thing he wanted to think about, so he forced himself to concentrate on the movements of her fingers.
“Did ye make that, lass?” he asked.
Lorna glanced up at him and nodded. “Childish, I know.”
“Nay, ’tis not.” He reached out , palm up and she placed her fingers in the center of his outstretched hand. He brushed a thumb over the grass ring. “Most of our lives ye’ll find that things go in circles, just like this ring. There are reasons for everything, and everyone has a purpose.”
Pretty green-blue eyes , dancing with firelight shadows, squinted up at him, surmising the meaning behind his words.
“The English have invaded our world, lass. Do not be afraid of what’s to come, for we all must fight to live in our own world. Wrangle our freedom from tyranny’s grasp. Some more than others.”
“Why are ye telling me this?” Her fingers danced a little on his palm, a nervous tremor perhaps.
He didn’t want her to be nervous with him though. He tightened his hold, an instinctual protective move.
“Because, I want ye to be prepared for what comes.” He made a gesture with his free hand to their surroundings. “Here in the Highlands, ye’ve not got a firsthand look at what the devil Sassenachs are doing to our country.
He quickly regretted his irritation, and flashed her a genuine smile. How could he not? Every time he looked at her, she brought about feelings inside him of both joy and irritation. A war he didn’t understand, and was reluctant to explore.
Lorna broke away from the maidens. From behind her, he was surprised to see that Heather grabbed their aunt from the line of matrons and tugged her into the circle. Neither Heather nor Fiona paid Lorna any attention. Instead, they continued to dance as though Lorna had never left their side.
He raised a curious brow, eyes never leaving Lorna as she sauntered toward him. The glow of the fire surrounded her. Cheeks flushed with excitement. It was a look he could have seen every day for the rest of his life and been happy.
“My lady,” he said softly as she approached.
“I’d thought ye’d gone to bed, my laird.”
“Not as yet.” He couldn’t tell her he’d come back outside to catch another glimpse of her. His gaze raked over her and he ground his teeth to keep from grabbing her and tossing her over his shoulder. Her gown was not immodest, but that didn’t matter, it hugged her curves in all the right places and tempted his imagination with what might swell and arch beneath. All sorts of primal and possessive emotions spilled through him.
“I’m glad,” she said, gifting him with one of her sensual smiles.
He was tempted to ask how much wine she’d had to drink. Jamie wasn’t one to take advantage of a lass, even if she’d let him kiss her before, and even if his need to taste her sweet lips again was nearly overpowering him. Could it be the whisky? The two cups had warmed his blood, but seeing Lorna, that had put a true fire into him.
“As am I,” he managed to answer.
“When do ye leave?” she asked.
“At first light.”
Disappointment clouded her features. “Will another fifteen years pass before I see ye again?”
A bold question and one he wished he could answer, but in truth… “One can hope ’twill be sooner. Much sooner.” He’d not meant to say that. Where the hell did that come from?
“One?” she asked, searching his gaze.
Och, why did lasses always want a man to expand on the things a man said? Didn’t they understand men had only so many words of emotion they could utter?
“Aye, lass, I would hope to see ye before fifteen years passes us by.”
“As would I.” She frowned, chewing her lip. “My brother told me why ye’d come here.”
“Did he?”
She nodded, but didn’t expound on her statement. Instead, she fiddled with her fingers and what looked like a woven grass ring. Jamie couldn’t help but postulate about what her brother had said. But that was the last thing he wanted to think about, so he forced himself to concentrate on the movements of her fingers.
“Did ye make that, lass?” he asked.
Lorna glanced up at him and nodded. “Childish, I know.”
“Nay, ’tis not.” He reached out , palm up and she placed her fingers in the center of his outstretched hand. He brushed a thumb over the grass ring. “Most of our lives ye’ll find that things go in circles, just like this ring. There are reasons for everything, and everyone has a purpose.”
Pretty green-blue eyes , dancing with firelight shadows, squinted up at him, surmising the meaning behind his words.
“The English have invaded our world, lass. Do not be afraid of what’s to come, for we all must fight to live in our own world. Wrangle our freedom from tyranny’s grasp. Some more than others.”
“Why are ye telling me this?” Her fingers danced a little on his palm, a nervous tremor perhaps.
He didn’t want her to be nervous with him though. He tightened his hold, an instinctual protective move.
“Because, I want ye to be prepared for what comes.” He made a gesture with his free hand to their surroundings. “Here in the Highlands, ye’ve not got a firsthand look at what the devil Sassenachs are doing to our country.
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