“Then what would I do?”
“You could return to your clan with no disgrace. I would accept fault for the handfast ending and your wish to leave.”
“You would do that? You’d let people think I left you? What if you wish for a proper wife one day?”
“Mayhap we get through deciding whether you wish to handfast, then we can get through a year. After that, we’ll see.” His thumb swept over her cheek, each pass more soothing than the last.
“It cannot be that simple.” Emelie shook her head as she closed her eyes. Her head spun as she considered what Dominic offered. It was the most outlandish—most ideal—thing she’d ever heard. “I don’t know,” she said lamely.
“I’ll be here at least another fortnight. You don’t have to decide tonight, but you will have to decide soon. If we go through with this, we can’t delay; otherwise, people will talk when your healthy bairn arrives too soon.”
“Wait. What if I am already two moons along, not one?”
“I’ve been away from Kilchurn for nearly three moons already. I’ve come and gone from court during that time, but I didn’t socialize. Few people knew I was here, but it’s reasonable to say we handfasted during any of my trips here. It doesn’t require a priest.”
“But people knew Henry was courting me.”
“Aye. But he hasn’t been here in some time. And if you were successful sneaking around to see him, why can’t we say it was me you sneaked off to find?” Dominic reasoned.
Emelie licked her dry lips, and Dominic’s gaze followed the tip of her tongue. He had a sudden desire to taste her lip, and he wished it were his tongue gliding along her flesh. When he shifted his gaze, he found Emelie watching him. The interest in her eyes matched his own. He cupped her jaw with his other hand and slowly brought his mouth down to hers. It was a soft brushing of their lips before they met halfway, each adding pressure until their lips pressed together. Emelie opened to Dominic as he slid his tongue past her teeth.
The feel of Dominic’s tongue reminded Emelie of crushed velvet. She felt the tension, the lust that sparked between them, but Dominic kept it contained. Her hands fisted his leine as she swayed into him. His massive hands that contained such strength were light on her waist, letting her grow accustomed to their feel before he lifted her off her feet. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hung from him. The difference in their height likely looked ridiculous, and it made it difficult to kiss, but Emelie reveled in the feel of Dominic holding her.
Dominic thought to offer a tender kiss to show Emelie that he desired her as a man should a wife and that he would be gentle with her. He didn’t expect the inferno she ignited as his tongue swept the satiny insides of her mouth. He wished to wrap her legs around his waist and press her against the wall. He hadn’t wanted a woman since Colina. He hadn’t been sure he would ever want one again. He’d been devoted to her, but discovering her betrayal with Graham, his and Brodie’s illegitimate older brother, made him want nothing to do with women. At least until now.
As his cock stirred yet again, Dominic lowered Emelie back to the floor. He didn’t want his lengthening arousal to scare her. He knew she was no virgin, but he didn’t want her to fear he would make assumptions. He didn’t want a marriage or a handfast in name only, but he would follow Emelie’s lead. He wouldn’t presume anything.
“Can I think aboot it and give you my answer in a day or so?” Emelie whispered.
“Of course, lass.” Dominic kissed her forehead, and Emelie once more had a feeling that it was a paternal gesture. But it was so contrary to the desire they’d just shared. As she watched Dominic, she was rapidly coming to understand that while he was enormous and his size clearly came from hours upon hours of swinging a sword, there was a gentleness that belied his size. A moment of envy and guilt sparked in her chest. She was lusting after a man who still grieved his wife, but she sensed he’d been a loving husband. Emelie wished she’d had a chance for the affection and devotion that she suspected Dominic felt for Colina. When she forced herself to think of Henry, she felt nothing. There was no love like she’d believed she’d once felt. There wasn’t even anger or hurt; there was only antipathy. He may have sired the child growing within her, but having discovered his true character, Emelie realized she didn’t feel she was missing anything.
“I will find you when I decide. I feel like I keep saying this, but thank you. You are offering me something I never imagined. Dominic, if you change your mind—if you wish to rescind—I won’t hold it against you.” Emelie slipped out of the alcove before Dominic could argue. He watched her go. As she moved further along the corridor, he knew he wouldn’t rescind. If anything, he would urge her to agree. There was something about Emelie Dunbar that was already getting into his blood.
Four
Dominic fought to keep a rein on his temper as he stood across from King Robert and to the far left of the MacArthur delegate. He’d listened to the man spend ten minutes spewing lies about Clan Campbell and asserting his clan’s dominion over the very land the Bruce had granted Clan Campbell after the Battle of Bannockburn. Brodie kept the king alive on that battlefield, and Dominic had come the closest he’d ever been to dying. He’d been gravely wounded, and few people besides Brodie believed he would survive. It galled him to stand and listen to any MacArthur attempt to steal land Dominic and his brother nearly died protecting.
Dominic knew the king would side with the Campbells, but it further infuriated him that the king let the Campbells’ enemy drone on, slighting Dominic’s clan and, specifically, his brother and laird. King Robert must have realized Dominic was coming to the end of his tether when he glanced down and noted Dominic’s white-knuckle hold on the edge of the table. The last thing the king needed was blood splattering over the important documents strewn across the table.
“Enough, Alfred,” King Robert intoned as he raised his hand to silence the man. “I have let you vent your spleen. Now I shall tell you what will happen. You and your men will return home. You will tell your uncle that not a single Campbell will see hide nor hair of your clan. And if they do, they have the right to run any of you through on sight. I will not fault them for it. Your memory must be incredibly short if you don’t recall my family connection to the Campbells. You never met my sister Mary, but she is a Campbell now.”
Dominic kept his eyes forward despite the consuming desire to gloat. It even tempted him to stick his tongue out at Alfred MacArthur, but he controlled himself. Barely. Dominic waited for King Robert to turn to him, unsure of what would happen next. He couldn’t fathom what else should happen. He’d been back and forth to Stirling several times after riding throughout Campbell territory, securing their borders from the MacArthurs and their friends the MacGregors. The Campbells and MacGregors would likely never come to a truce. It was their land the king gave the Campbells. Dominic and Brodie’s father, and now Brodie, had pushed the MacGregors further out of Glencoe, defeating the MacGregors during every standoff. Dominic, as tánaiste, had enough worries, since he was the one who led the Campbell patrols. He didn’t need more.
“Dom,” King Robert started. Dominic knew the familiarity of the diminutive was for Alfred’s sake, not his. “Inform Brodie that the MacArthurs will cease their incursion and will remain far from Kilchurn. Under no circumstances will they cross the River Orchy again.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
King Robert’s eyebrows rose, expecting Dominic to say more, but Dominic felt there was little more to say. He’d presented his case, then waited for the king’s judgment. He wouldn’t defend himself against Alfred, nor would he beg. He’d gotten what he came for, and he’d expressed his gratitude. Succinctly.
“Very well. Alfred, you may leave. Dominic remains.”
Now Dominic wanted to groan. He suspected what else King Robert wanted to discuss, and he was in no mood for it. He fought the scowl that wanted to take hold of his visage. He listened to the door to the Privy Council chamber close behind Alfred and watched as the king motioned his other advisors away from the table.
“Sit.”
While Dominic followed the king’s command, he didn’t appreciate it making him feel like a dog. The Campbells were hardly the Bruce’s lapdogs. They’d been instrumental in Robert the Bruce’s rise to power. But King Robert had tested Brodie’s loyalty a little too far the last time he and Laurel were at court. Thinking to tease Brodie, even prove a point that Laurel was a better woman than many believed, he’d insulted her. Brodie had warned the king, but as sovereign, he’d pressed on. Brodie hadn’t forgiven the king yet, and that was largely why Dominic represented their clan right now.
“Is your brother still in a fit over the wager?”
