He did want her thoughts and opinions on what he’d learned and what he’d been asked, but the real reason he’d suggested this private dinner was because he wanted to be alone with her. It felt so right and natural.
He was on his second page of notes when Odin arrived on his lap with a thump. “Are you hungry, my lad?” he asked as he petted the cat, who regarded him with his one piratical eye. “Is that why you’re here this evening, because you missed your supper and are starving?”
Signy laughed. “He’s probably here because he ate his supper in the kitchen and thought it was inadequate, so he’s decided to try his starving kitten routine on you.”
“He didn’t get to be this size by skipping opportunities to eat.” The cat’s gray fur was sensuously soft, which made Ramsay think of Signy’s magnificent hair, an invitation to sin.
Like Ramsay, Signy had also bathed and donned her long blue robe, tying her luxuriant red-gold hair back with a blue scarf. Though every lovely part of her but her hands and hair were covered, the boudoir intimacy was profoundly erotic. He thought again how in London, a scene so outrageously intimate between two unwed people would have meant a sudden march to the altar.
Which wasn’t actually a bad idea....
“I don’t want to talk about business this evening,” he admitted. “The trip was valuable, and I’ve seen a great number of our islands and met many interesting and influential people, but I have nothing to ask you that can’t wait until tomorrow.”
She smiled. “You want to talk about your Viking ship, don’t you? It’s an extraordinary find. I can’t wait to discover what is hidden under the sand and soil.”
“Neither can I.” He set Odin on the floor. “Go wash Fiona’s face. You both seem to like it.”
“They’ve been getting along well,” Signy said, watching Ramsay uncertainly.
He stood and locked his gaze with hers. “As much as I want to excavate the ship, I want to explore you even more. A fortnight apart felt very long. Far too long.”
He extended his hand. She clasped it and rose from her chair, her gaze on him. Wordlessly they embraced, just holding each other. She was a little tense at first, but soon she began to relax, her body warm and pliant. He loved how tall she was, how he could bury his face in her hair after he’d deftly untied the scarf that held the thick tresses back.
“At night when I was trying to fall asleep in a succession of strange beds, I thought of you,” he murmured in her ear. “Which did not help my slumbers.”
She gave a soft laugh. “At least I had Fiona and Odin sharing my bed. They’re better than sleeping alone.”
“When I stayed with the Jansens in Eastray, I was impressed by the pottery but even more by Chieftain, their gigantic lurcher hound who insisted on sharing my bed. I’m sure you’ve met him.” He chuckled. “The beast was huge and smelled like a dog who lives a full life. He was no substitute for you.”
“Chieftain is a very memorable dog, but I’m not sure whether I should be flattered,” she said, her tone serious but her eyes amused.
“You definitely should be.” His hands kneaded her supple body, enjoying her winsome curves and alluring strength. “What really kept me awake was remembering that I slept in your bed when I came to tell you that the old laird died, and nothing happened. Worse, I was so exhausted that I can’t even remember what it was like!”
“If you’d tried to make something happen, I would have kicked you out of my bed,” she said tartly.
“Would you do that now?” he asked, his voice soft. “Because I would dearly love to share that bed with you tonight and every other night.” He bent his head into a tender kiss. Her lips were so soft, so quintessentially Signy . . .
Her mouth opened under his, and he blazed from tenderness into fierce longing. Passion was potent as it pulsed through his body, but even more than desire, he wanted to join with her so that they could share each other’s essences. To be mated and stronger than either of them alone.
“You aren’t very subtle,” she said unevenly as the kiss ended.
He brushed her shining hair from her cheek. “I seem to be fresh out of subtlety today.” He had an intense belief that now was the right time, coupled with an equally intense fear that what he was about to say would be disastrous. “You enjoy my kisses, and before I left, we seemed to have come to understand each other. What now?”
She slid her hand slowly down the front of his body. “I’m not entirely sure what comes next,” she said hesitantly, “being inexperienced in such matters. Though I have a fair idea.” Her moving hand stopped and gently clasped him through the heavy fabric of his robe. Mind-melting heat flared through him.
She squeezed very gently. “Perhaps . . . this is the night to become lovers.” She kept her gaze down, her voice shy even as her hand became more bold.
Barely able to speak, he gasped, “Not lovers, my darling goddess.” He lifted her chin with his hand and gazed into her golden hazel eyes. “I want more than that. I want you to share my bed as my wife. And we can make that happen right now, right here.”
Her breath caught. “Do you mean a handfasting?”
He nodded. “We seem to be in the midst of antiquities today, and handfasting is a most ancient and honorable Scottish custom. Usually two people handfast with the intention of having a more formal marriage soon, an intention I most certainly have. I want to marry you in St. Magnus Cathedral with half of Thorsay watching and beaming with approval or envy. But tonight I want to make this private, personal pledge to you.”
“Isn’t a witness required?” she said uncertainly.
He gestured to where Fiona and Odin were curled in the corner. “We have our friends here. I suspect that Odin isn’t entirely reliable, but I know that your Fiona is honorable and true.”
Signy laughed. “A fair assessment.” She pushed her hair back nervously. “Are we ready for this?”
