Silence fell between them, and his gaze dropped to her lips, and for one breathless moment, she was sure that he was going to kiss her. She felt frozen in place, whether from fear or anticipation, she could not say. But then his gaze slid back up to her eyes, and just as last night, he drew her hand to his lips and feathered a kiss to the inside of her palm. Heat instantly pooled in her belly, and desire tightened her core.
“Good night, Lillith,” he said in a voice that slid over her like silk.
It was all she could do to murmur her goodnights. He left her standing there, feeling as if flames were burning her skin, as she watched him stride away—tall, proud, confident, and she was beginning to suspect—dangerous.
The pattern repeated the next night, but this time, he led her all the way to her bedchamber with his palm pressed gently at the low curve of her back, right where it met her bottom. That hand was all she could think about as they walked. She felt as if he were branding her with it, and she was not entirely terrified by the notion. When they reached her bedchamber door, he faced her directly as he’d done the other nights, and this time he asked, “What’s yer favorite memory?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” she replied. “It’s when Eve came to live with us, and my da became happy again.”
“Eve helped yer da over his grief?”
“Aye,” she said. “What’s yer favorite memory?”
That slow, devilish smile she’d grown accustomed to seeing curled up the corners of his sinful lips. “Kissing ye,” he replied, his voice low, husky, and utterly enticing. He brought his lips a hairsbreadth from hers. “Lillith—”
“Hmm?” This had to be what being enchanted felt like.
“I’m going to kiss ye.”
It was her turn to smile, and then his mouth descended on hers, pushing away all fear for the moment. The pressure was gentle at first, and she felt almost as if she were floating on a cloud or water, but soon his lips became more demanding. She was shockingly eager to meet his demands. When his tongue ran over the crease of her mouth, she willingly opened for him, recalling that he could do rather astonishing things with that tongue. She needed to be sure the memory was real or if it was a memory fueled by the mead haze she’d been in.
Every time their tongues tangled, hot desire coursed through her veins, and she found herself standing on her tiptoes, pressing her lips more firmly into his. Just as her knees began to weaken, he drew back and offered a half-bemused, half-wolfish smile. “I’ll leave ye now, because if I do nae, I kinnae promise I’ll be able to.”
She was utterly dazed and could do no more than nod.
“Goodnight, lass.”
She found her voice and said, “Good night, Rory.”
Once again, he left her standing there, watching him depart, and it was not until he disappeared around the corner that she realized the sly devil had somehow managed to get her to lower her guard more than she’d intended, and without her really knowing it. And her chest had that odd, tight feeling again, butit was much more intense, as if someone had cracked it open and squeezed between the cracks. She groaned, but hope sprang along with a dash of fear. But that was progress, and she’d take that.
Caleb was going to pass his warrior test. Rory smiled as he watched the man whom he’d been helping to train for the last five days. And when Caleb did pass the test, he had informed Rory, on the first day Rory had worked with him, that he had every intention of asking Lenora’s da for her hand. Rory searched for Lillith among the cheering MacLeod clan and found her very near the edge of the loch, standing by her sister, along with her grandmama, stepmama, and aunts. All the MacLeod women were cheering for Caleb to pass the test, because all the MacLeod women knew Lenora wanted to wed Caleb, and they wanted Lenora to have that choice.
Rory smiled to himself as he watched Lillith jump up in the air to cheer an especially adept move that Caleb had just displayed to best the warrior he faced. Rory had taught Caleb that move, and in doing so, he had stamped his approval on Lenora and Caleb wedding. Not that they cared, but it mattered to Rory, because it made him even more certain of his own decision—he wanted Lillith, and he realized with a sharp intake of breath as her gaze clashed with his and she offered him a radiant smile before turning her attention back to Caleb, that she had his heart. Completely. God’s blood. He’d set out to pick a biddable wife, and instead, he’d fallen in love with a hellion.
“Might I be so bold as to say that my granddaughter has claimed more than yer lust,” Iain said from beside Rory.
Rory turned to look at Iain. “Ye may, and aye,” he said, thinking upon the realization he’d just had, “she has.”
“So the courtship has been going well?”
Rory thought about that and had to fight the grin that wanted to come. “I believe so,” he said, thinking of all the nights he’d walked Lillith to her bedchamber, the talks they’d had, and the small touches and kisses that had been seared into his brain.
“Ye’ve softened her, then?” Iain asked, and Rory could hear the underlying hope in the man’s tone.
Rory drew in a deep breath before speaking to give himself time to pick his words with care. “I think it’s truer to say that in trying to soften her, I’ve made myself into dough.”
Iain chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s the way of it with the right lass, Rory. It’s decided then,” Iain said. “Ye’ll tell her ye’ve chosen her and—”
Just then, the crowd went wild, and Rory looked down to the loch to find Lenora rushing toward Caleb with Lillith and what appeared to be the entire rest of the clan on her heels.
“’Tis over,” Iain said. “Caleb’s passed. Come, we—”
“Laird MacLeod!” Caleb’s excited shout rose over the cheering of the crowd and caused an immediate hush to fall.
“Aye?” Royce called back from the dais he’d been sitting on to watch the match.
“Now that I’ve passed my warrior test, I wish to wed yer daughter as we discussed.”
