Hamish slowed to a canter. “That doesnae get me this territory.”
“It does make ye the man who delivered Dunncraigh the means to be rid of Lattimer. Ye said the Maxwell wanted Lattimer to sell the castle and land to him, and leave the Highlands. Ye’ll have the Sassenach’s sister.”
Slowly Hamish nodded. “Now that’s an interesting idea. And ye’ll be helping me with it.”
Raibeart sighed. If he didn’t, it would be his nephews on the headsman’s block. “Aye. I’ll help ye.” And God help him, the Maxton brothers, and the poor lass.
Chapter Sixteen
Marjorie let out her breath in a shivering moan. With Graeme’s fingers teasing up inside her and his tongue and teeth on her breasts, she felt like a quivering twist of shivering, trembling nerves. When his hands and his mouth traded positions, she lost the ability to speak.
“Graeme,” she groaned, the only word she could conjure. “Oh, Graeme.”
She gripped his hair in her hands, arching her back and trying not to suffocate him between her thighs. If a lady didn’t indulge her carnal desires, she was well finished with being one. Because she was not going to give this up—give him up—for anything.
As she began to think she might faint from pure pleasure, he slid up her body, pausing to lick a sensitive nipple, and kissed her with an openmouthed growl. At the same moment he slid warm and hard inside her, and her fingers dug spasmodically into his shoulders. He’d said she no longer had to be alone. It was just words, hopeful words, until moments like this.
They were two people, but at the same time they were one, mingled breath, mingled sweat, no space between where she ended and he began. Even their hearts had the same fast rhythm. With every deep thrust she groaned, holding his gaze, watching to see the exquisite moment he climaxed inside her. She could feel it, feel both of them, rushing, quickening, rising, until with a deep groan he let loose, and she shook and shattered around him in response.
“Fer God’s sake, lass,” he murmured, lowering his forehead against hers. “Ye undo me.”
She grinned breathlessly. “I’m undone, myself.”
Graeme kissed her again, this time achingly gentle. “I love ye, lass,mo boireann leòmhann.”
“I love you,” she returned. They were words she’d never expected to say, and every time she uttered them,shefelt stronger.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, shifting onto his back and pulling her over on top of him. “Ye ken what this hoose needs?”
“A new roof? Fresh paint?” she suggested, chuckling.
“A dog.”
Marjorie snorted. “That should go well with the foxes, cats, rabbits, and the goose.”
“It’ll have to be a pup. By the time he grows up he’ll reckon all this is normal.”
She twisted her head to look at him. “You’re serious, then.”
“Aye.”
“If I’m staying here, the dog has to be female. I’m outnumbered enough as it is.”
His arms tightened around her, and he kissed her ear. “Oh, ye’re staying. I still have that shackle, and I’m nae afraid to use it.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that.” If shedidstay, as she wanted to, more badly with each passing hour and every time she thought about never having to return to London and those unkind, resentful gazes—she required one more thing from him. But while her comportment lessons had discussed flirtations and making oneself appealing to men, she had no idea how to suggest to a man—to this man in particular—that he needed to ask her to marry him.Askher. Not demand or bellow at her. And since that mess had already happened and she’d turned him down, how was she to let him know that she might be much more amenable this time?
Now that she knew him, she would be happy to see her money going to improving the lives of his family and his tenants. But after endless lessons on ladylike behavior, she couldn’t continue breaking the primary rule. Good heavens, what if she became pregnant? They’d certainly been having enough sex to make that plausible, if not probable.
“So, a dog—a bitch—it is, then.”
Young footsteps and the quick click of fox feet rumbled by and down the stairs. Marjorie sat up and slid from the warm, comfortable bed. “Yes, of course,” she said, knowing she sounded a bit brusque and not particularly caring. “First things first.”
He sat up as well, the blankets falling deliciously past his waist. “Are we arguing aboot someaught again? I’m naked, so I reckon it’s time fer a fight.”
“That depends on your list of things you wish to do here.” She pulled on her night rail. “I need to go get dressed before Connell comes back upstairs.”
“I’m nae going to stomp after ye again, so come here.”
