“What am I to think, eh, Ailsa? I come here tae find ye, sittin’ together in the dead of the night, lookin’ verra cozy.” His fingers flexed briefly at her waist, the pressure quick and almost painful, yet Ailsa was still sorry when he forced his hand to relax.
“You’re to think,” she said, struggling to get her own thoughts in order. He was very near. He smelled faintly of woodsmoke and heather. It was likely from a ride, or perhaps from the fire in his bedchamber, but she couldn’t help but think that he, like the whisky he distilled, had all the sensory experiences of home.
“You’re to think,” she repeated, “that we were having a drink together. I couldn’t sleep and, as it happened, the captain couldn’t, either.”
It did not seem wise, currently, to reveal that James had given her use of his Christian name. She’d approach that later when Ewan’s temper was cooler.
“Ailsa.” There was a raspy quality to the way he spoke her name, and it made her, on instinct, arch closer to him. Once she’d given up the scant space, he refused to let her reclaim it, his hold on her growing even tighter. This meant, when he spoke again, they were practically nose to nose.
“Understand this,” he said. “If ye cannot sleep, ye come to me. If ye have aught that troubles ye, ye come to me. If ye need a distraction tae quiet yer mind…” With the way she was pressed against him, she could not mistake what form thisdistractionwould take; he was wearing trousers, not his kilt, and the thinnermaterial made the hardness that pressed against her all the clearer. “Ye come tome.”
He punctuated this last by sliding the hand on her hip around to the small of her back and using this new leverage to pull her in toward him. She gasped. She was arched now, pinned by his dual grip on her hair and her back. The position should have left her unbalanced, but she knew, without a single doubt, that Ewan would not let her fall.
Her breathing grew quick and heavy. She should have found this jealousy foolish, unappealing.
She very,verymuch did not.
“Ye aremine,” he told her. “Mine to guard, mine to care for, mine to comfort. Ye had best not forget. I know ye have tried. Ye’ve spent ten bloody years trying to avoid what we’ve both always known.” He bent even closer, his lips brushing tantalizingly against hers with every word. “Ye have always been mine, and ye always will be.”
Ailsa couldn’t deny it; she was the one to close the gap between them. She was the one to throw her hands around his neck and hold him close. She was the one to start it.
But Ewan…
Ewan returned everything she gave tenfold. His tongue plunged into her mouth, tasting every inch of her, chasing the remnants of whisky on her tongue. She knew, somehow she justknew, that it was the realization that she’d been drinking the whisky he’d produced that led him to give that approving, thrilling growl into her mouth.
“Tell me,” he commanded in between kisses. He seemed determined to pepper every part of her with them—her lips, her cheeks, her jaw.
When she did not immediately comply, he bit down lightly against the place where her pulse throbbed in her neck. Not enough to hurt, nor even enough to leave a mark, but justenough to show the deadly seriousness of his intent. “Say it, Ailsa.”
She might have admitted to anything to get more of his kisses just then.
“I’m yours,” she said.
As he returned to her mouth, pouring all his passion into her, she worried that the words might be true.
Maybe she had always belonged to Ewan Buchanan. But she was not yet sure whether or not he belonged to her in turn.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Mustyou do that right now, Vaila?” Davina asked her elder sister, exasperation clear in her tone.
Vaila looked up from where she’d been lovingly polishing her daggers, surprise written clearly on her face.
“When else would I do it?” she asked.
Davina exchanged a speaking glance with Mairi Buchanan. Ailsa had noticed that a bond had started forming between her third sister and Ewan’s sister. She simply wasn’t yet sure how that boded for her.
She already had three younger sisters, causing her no end of mischief. A fourth might very well do her in.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Davina said, exasperated, when it became clear that Vaila actually wanted an answer. “Any time other than when we are helping our sister get ready for her wedding?”
Vaila frowned. “But I need them ready for the wedding. You know, in case Ailsa changes her mind and certain, ahem, gentlemen refuse to listen to reason.”
“You know, that’s my brother you’re threatening to stab,” Mairi said mildly.
“Don’t worry, I was planning on stabbing Captain McGregor,” Vaila returned sweetly.
“Oh yes,” Eilidh muttered, so only Ailsa could hear.
