Now he remembered.
“Wanton, too,” she said, her sweet curves gleaming in the golden light. “You chose unwisely if you wanted a proper wife.”
“I did no’ want a wife at all.”
“And now I have trapped you.”
“Precious lass, you will no’ need long in my hills to learn that a Highlander is nae man to be trapped.” He released a heavy breath, not mentioning that theycouldbe seduced.
Enchanted, bewitched, and besotted.
Still…
“We dinnae do things unless we chose to do them,” he said. “Now, when we want something…”
She tilted her head, her breasts jiggling with the movement. “You just said you didn’t want a wife.”
“I wanted you.”
“Even though I am wanton and wicked?”
He laughed, then paced to the open window and drew a great breath, needing air.
“Sweet lass…” He turned back to her, not caring if she saw his jutting manhood. “You are no’ either of those, though you are something that starts with ‘w.’ You are wonderful.”
She drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees. “So you do not regret bringing me here with you? Making me your wife?”
“Did you no’ hear me?” He looked at her, then wished he hadn’t for, from his present angle, her upraised knees gave him another delectable peek at her womanly curls.
Pretending not to have noticed, he struggled to keep his gaze on her face.
“Can it be that English lassies, even half-English ones, stuff wax in their ears?”
“I just wanted to be sure this is about more than this.” She flicked a hand at the mussed and tangled bedsheets, the gesture making sense of her not so clear words.
“You could have crooked your finger and had every woman in London diving into your bed.”
“And none of them would have been you.” He crossed the room and climbed into bed with her, drawing her into his arms. “I doubt a one would have possessed the cheek to attend a London ball with unbound hair. Nor would they have the daring to stand tall against a woman like Lady Clarice, knowing fine what villainy she is capable of.
“Lastly,” he finished, “how many London ladies do you know who would shun spending time and money on new gowns and other frippery so that they could dedicate all their days, their lives, to tracking down and rescuing aged carriage horses?”
She didn’t answer, but when he peered down at her head on his shoulder, he saw that her lashes looked wet.
“You, sweetness,” he replied for her. “That woman is you, and I would have carried you here with me on my shoulders if need be. I wanted you for my own that much, that badly.”
“Oh, dear.”
“No’‘oh, my?’” Lucian used his thumb to brush a tear from her cheek. “Nae crying, lassie. But you’d best listen closely as I’m more a man of deeds than words. I dinnae speak my heart easily, but the truth is, you are perfect for me. I could’ve helped you rid yourself of your stepmother at Cranleigh. You could’ve kept your old horses there, or if you’d wished it, I would’ve welcomed them at Lyongate, with or without you.
“But I wanted you in the bargain – in my heart, my life.” He leaned in then and kissed her. And when, a good while later, he pulled away, he laughed and lowered his head, kissing her again.
“See what you do to me,” he said when they finally broke for air. “I need you plain and simple.”
~*~
But do you love me?
Truly so?
