“Late tonight.”
He lightly knocked his head against the barn wall. “I canno’ wait until tonight.”
She stood and grabbed his hand, pulling him up with her. “Come,” she said, and he followed her into the barn.
She hadn’t been this reckless since before John died. Iain would say that she was behaving recklessly every time she let refugees into her home, but this felt right, and hadn’t she just been missing a man’s warm body?
Breathless with anticipation, she climbed the ladder to the hayloft, Iain following closely behind, his fingers caressing her ankles. She tumbled into the soft pile of hay, rolling onto her back as Iain landed next to her. They lay looking up at the rafters, breathing heavily as if they’d already made love.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve done this in a hayloft,” Iain said.
“I’ve never done this in a hayloft.”
He rolled toward her and smiled. He really was very good-looking when he smiled. It lit up his eyes and softened his usually severe expression. “Ye should do that more often,” she said, brushing his cheek with her fingertips.
“Make love in haylofts?”
“Smile.”
His smile faded and she regretted saying anything.
“There’s not much to smile about these days,” he said.
“Sometimes ye have to search for the good, but it’s usually there.”
“How can you say that when life has dealt you nothing but blows?”
She shrugged and watched her fingers run up the sleeve of his coat. “It took me a long time to come to that conclusion.”
He touched the hollow of her throat, a light caress that made her shiver. “I admire you.”
“Me?” She looked at him in surprise.
His finger traced her neck, around her jaw, and outlined the edge of her ear. Goosebumps rose on her arms, and her breath caught in her throat.
“You.” His gaze caught on his roaming finger, now smoothing down her brow. She lay there looking up at him, watching the dip between his brows and the dark eyes that for once held a wealth of emotion. His gaze met hers. “Are you certain about this?”
“Oh, yes.” Her body was heavy with need.
His lids came down over his eyes. “It’s just…”
“Just what?”
“I didn’t know, with John and everything…”
She touched his chin, causing him to look at her. “I’ve had other lovers.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “You have?”
“Does that make a difference?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“I said I liked living out here, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get lonely from time to time.”
“Who?” He looked away, his cheeks stained slightly red. It was strange to see Iain Campbell embarrassed. “I know, it’s none of my business.”
“No, it’s not yer business. He’s dead now. Killed at Culloden.”
