Finn nipped at her earlobe with a growl. Whether it was due to the way she aroused him or a grumble at their combined contrariness, he had no idea. “’Tis an honorable position. No’ a blow to yer womanhood. Stay.”
“Nay.”
“Blast it, lass.” Lifting his head, he stared down at her. Her cheeks were flushed with passion, eyes rather hazy. Her lush lips reddened by his kiss. He’d never had the simultaneous urge to shake a woman and make love to her. Maddening was an understatement. “Nae one, myself included, would think any less of ye for accepting honest work. Nae more than I think less of ye for taking me to yer bed.”
“Finn, I willnae…” Her words trailed off and her dazed expression hardened as her brows snapped together. “I beg yer pardon? Did ye just belittle me for shagging ye?”
“What? Nay. I said Idinnaethink any less of ye.”
“Then why would ye mention it in the first place?”
At a loss for an appropriate response, Finn stared down at her in hopes of enlightenment as to the reason for her ire. His inability to produce the proper words riled her even more.
She struggled in his loose embrace until he released her and pointed a finger at his chest. “Let me ask ye, why has it ever been acceptable for a man to be gantin’ a poke or pump with any random female but even when a woman has a genuine desire for a man she loses any chance at respectability?” Aila spun around like a tempest and walked away from him. “Why am I still here? It’s like living in the middle ages, as if reality were no’ biased enough.”
“Och, lass. Did ye no’ hear me? I said Idinnae—” Finn took a step toward her only to have her whirl about again.
Losh, she was resplendent in a temper, flushed with becoming color and her brogue more pronounced. While he couldn’t pinpoint the precise misstep that had garnered him such a reaction, he’d have to find a way to antagonize her again.
If she were to stay.
“This, so ye are aware —” she gestured back and forth between them “— is an anomaly. Practically a freak of nature. No’ how I normally go about things, I’ll have ye know.” She poked a finger at his chest. “Even so, I wisnae sorry for it. And I’ll no’ be apologizing or be disparaged for taking a bit of indulging that desire.”
A grin jerked at Finn’s lips. A grin inappropriate to the mood and most likely to the moment, however there’d been a clear admission in there regarding the pleasure she’d taken in their lovemaking. Whatever else she interpreted in his words, he’d deal with later.
“What are ye laughing at? I’m serious.”
She spun around and strode to the window at the end of the corridor with a trail of muttered profanities left behind like breadcrumbs. He followed them as readily as a hungry bird. Her arms wrapped tight around her body and her shoulders lifted before dropping with a sigh.
“My apologies. All of that? It’s no’ really directed at ye.” Her gaze flicked up to him, blue as the sky winking out from the clouds through the window. “My therapist would be appalled.”
Her lips compressed into a thin line. A moment later, they trembled. Her anger was gone. In fact, it now appeared as though she was withholding a smile. He rather wished she wouldn’t. He’d love to see her soften with… He shook his head to rid himself of the fantasy. Better he focus on business, primarily the business that had brought him to Inveraray and how to accomplish his goals in short order.
What had she said again? “Yer what?”
“The special person I talk with about my feelings. Ye’d like her.” Her lips quirked and against his better judgement, he held his breath. Another sigh and her lips softened, but not into the anticipated smile. “Gah, I couldnae be in a worse place considering my issues.”
“Ye’re intent on leaving then?”
For the best, again he scolded the part of him that groaned with regret.
“I shou—”
Aila’s head cocked to one side, rotating ever so slightly as she stared out the window. Finn tried to follow her line of sight to see what had caught her attention, however he saw nothing out of order among the bustle in the bailey below.
“I beg ye to reconsider.” Finn’s scolding turned inward, prepared to stifle the upstart impulse that spoke out of turn. “If only because my children enjoy playing with yer dog.” The contrary bent carried on unchecked. “Effie especially has been withdrawn since her mother’s passing. ’Tis nice to see her smile.”
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
Her abrupt agreement both confused and gladdened…and irked him. “Ye will?”
“A weather eye. Nothing more.”
* * *
“Circle ’round, Niall!” Aila called in a vain attempt to keep the lad from running out of sight. Again. The children didn’t need a watchful eye, they needed a bloody leash. They ran, they climbed, they somersaulted with more vigor than any children she’d ever encountered. Given her confessed inexperience, her knowledge was based on her own childhood and frankly, in defense of her own time, most playtime as she knew it was organized into team sports supervised by a designated adult and the rest was spent glued to a screen of some sort. She had no idea how to curb such boundless energy. Thankfully, Niall looped around for the third time now with Rab hot on his heels, yowling like an elated hound on the hunt.
She continued along the path with one eye on the children as promised while they sprinted back and forth. The shepherd chased them, then the stick, then the pair again. Aila was pleased by the smiles and laughter given what Finn had said about his daughter. She was pleased, too, by Rab’s unfettered joy. The playful pup with the lolling tongue bore virtually no resemblance to the somber shepherd that had greeted her in the whisky shop two days ago. He was thriving on the attention Niall and Effie showered him with and on the open spaces. No matter what Donell said, the dog needed the affection the children provided far more than she needed the protection he could offer her.
