Isla was quite certain that thirty years from now, she would be able to call up this moment.
Tavish standing tall before her—chest bare, hair damp and disheveled from her fingers, sunlight skimming his face and turning his gray eyes to liquid silver. The rustle of trees and the burble of the river at her back. The lone call of a hawk soaring high overhead.
Her reply stuck in her throat.I love you, Tavish. I do! But . . .
. . . will it be enough?
As if hearing her unspoken thoughts, he shot her a sad smile.
“Ponder this choice carefully, my love,” he said. “Ye know where to find me when ye wish to continue this conversation.”
Leaning forward, he pressed one last kiss to her cheek—night whiskers brushing her skin and the smell of warm male skin engulfing her.
And then Tavish pivoted and disappeared up the path to the castle.
Isla stared atthe place where Tavish had vanished for far too long.
I love ye. But . . .
Those spare words could caption their entire relationship.
She felt the echo of them in her chest.
Ye are woven into the very fabric of my soul.
Isla loved him. Of that that she was certain. She ached for a consummation of that love.
Yet as he had said,love and lifelongcommitment, particularly in the face of penury and poverty, were rather two different things.
I will never let ye go.
Just like last night, he said those words as a threat. A warning intended to control the blazing passion between them before it burned down her hopes for the future.
His actions underscored why she loved this man as she did. Even in the midst of untamed lust, Tavish still put her needs and wants above his own.
Isla pondered all this as she sat down on the grassy bank and brushed out her hair, letting it dry in the sun.
The enormity of the decision loomed large.
Once, she had committed herself to a life with him without carefully considering the ramifications.
This time . . . she would be intentional. Careful. Deliberate. Clearly understanding the repercussions. She would not toy with Tavish’s affections, as he said.
Even if part of her screamed in frustration over this need for logic.
When her hair was no longer dripping, Isla braided it with quick motions and tied it off with a ribbon from her pocket.
She stared at the rippling water of the pool, hoping it would bring her some clarity.
None arrived.
On a sigh, she gathered her things and trudged back up to Cairnfell Castle.
Tavish was making their lunch when she entered the great hall. Back to her, he stood at the sideboard, slicing ham and cheese.
Unfortunately, he had donned a shirt and waistcoat overtop his kilt. Or was it fortunately? She could scarcely say.
The stiffening of his shoulders indicated he had heard her arrival.
