“Ye can recall the lass?”
“She was my first. I was hers. Aye, I recall her. I recall, too, that she was delicate, in body and, I think, in mind. Bethoc is similar to her in body but nay in mind. ’Tis hard to think of the life my child has led because her mother lost my letter.”
“It was hard, nay question about that, but it didnae break her. It honed her.” Callum smiled faintly.
“And ye mean to have her.”
Callum was stunned by Brett’s words and unsure of how he should reply.
Brett shook his head. “Ye look as if I just punched ye in the head. The lass is a grown woman. I have had naught to do with her raising. All I ken is that she has spent her life raised by a hard mon and cares for a lot of bairns that are nay hers. Her mother was nay help to her, lost in misery and dreams as she was. What I am trying to spit out here is that I dinnae have the right to demand anything of ye. I will ask though that ye dinnae hurt her. She has had enough hurt in her life.”
“I would ne’er hurt her.”
“Ye ken what I mean. Ye are keeping her close and ye ken what a lass can see in that.”
“Aye,” Callum admitted. “Do ye want the truth?”
“Always better.”
“I dinnae ken what the hell I want.” He frowned when Brett laughed. “’Tis true. I cannae say I love her. What do I ken about such things? Yet I cannae see nay having her about. When I saw that sheriff on top of her, I threw him into a wall and if she hadnae needed me to untie her, I would have broken him into pieces. I dinnae e’en care if she drags all the little ones with her if she comes with me to Whytemont. And I already ken I willnae heed a nay when I say she should come with me.Jesu, ’tis a confusion.”
Brett laughed. “All I ask is that ye dinnae hurt her. I may have seeded her but I am nay a father to her. She is a grown woman. Who kens? If we see each other from time to time that bond will grow. But I am nay going to tell ye what to do. All I can think of saying, again, is just dinnae hurt her. She has had enough hurt in her life.”
“Fair enough. Ye do believe ye sired her though, aye?”
“Oh, aye, nay question of it. Proud to call such a bonnie lass my daughter. But nay a bond. That must come with time and kenning each other. I look forward to it.”
“Then we shall be sure there is regular visiting done.”
“Ye ken where your bedchamber is?”
Callum nodded and left the room as fast as he could without looking as if he was running. His bedchamber was right next to Bethoc’s and he had no intention of sleeping in that bed. That was not something he was comfortable revealing to her father, even one who said there was no bond yet. Once inside his room, he stripped off his clothes and washed up. He then threw on his plaid. Realizing he was intensely anticipating spending a full night in a bed with Bethoc, he grinned and slipped off to the bedchamber.
* * *
Bethoc woke to a hand on her breast. An instant of panic came and went quickly as she recognized the scent of Callum and even recognized his hand. She tried to push back against him but found the covers and turned to see him on top of them.
“What are ye doing out there?” she asked.
“Waking ye up.” He stood up, shed his plaid, and climbed into bed.
Bethoc caught her breath when he shed his kilt. It was only a brief glimpse of his naked form but it was more than enough to set her heart pounding. The man was perfection as far as she could see. He was all smooth skin and taut muscle. The hair at his groin and on his legs was more than enough to be manly and darker than the hair on his head, but it was the glimpse of what rose up from those reddish-brown curls at his groin that truly took her breath away. As he took her into his arms, she idly wondered what would happen if she touched it. He touched her between her legs, she mused, so it ought to be fine for her to return the caress.
Then Callum pulled her into his arms and sighed. Bethoc could not help herself: She laughed. It was such a happy sound.
“What is so funny?” he asked, kissing her shoulder.
“Ye sounded so content. I have heard the boys and Margaret make that same sound at times when they found something they think they lost.”
“Ah, weel, my skin against yours makes me verra happy.”
Bethoc relaxed in his arms, running her hand over his chest. Resting her cheek against his chest she inched her hand down to caress his taut belly. A moment later she gave in to her curiosity and went farther. When she clasped him in her hand, his whole body tensed. Afraid she had erred, she released him, only to have him take her by the hand and put it back.
“I thought I had hurt you,” she whispered.
“Nay, just surprised me.”
As she lightly stroked him he kissed her. He was hot silk in her hands, hard yet soft. It was obvious he liked her touching him. Even as she stroked him, she lost herself in the pleasure of his kiss and the fire he spread inside her with his own stroking hands.
