Emer slid her hand into one of the concealed pockets sewn into her skirt and brought out a tiny piece of parchment, folded into a complicated rectangular shape. Carefully, she unfolded the paper; inside was a tiny amount of what looked like dark golden-brown sand. But when she opened the parchment and spread it flat, the air in the grove grew heavy with an invitingly soft floral aroma, and yet it was strangely reminiscent of a vanilla pod and an apple pie smothered in cinnamon powder, all at the same time.
“What is it?” Caillen asked, knowing with absolute certainty Emer had been the girl in the room that night.
“ ‘Tis tolu balsam. It’s a resin from a tree in the Americas. Have ye been there?”
“Aye,” Caillen was happy to share information about his travels abroad with Emer, “I have been to that place. It’s huge–vast and huge-and so is the ocean ye have to cross to get there.”
“Why then, I warned ye’d be bored by me insignificant stories about Paris,” Emer teased him as she folded the tolu balsam back into the parchment and stowed it away in her pocket.
Caillen laughed, “I’ve been there too, and am envious o’ yer grandfaither having lived in such an interesting metropolis. The church graves there are the most tremendous boneyards-crypts and monuments stretching as far as the eye can see, circling the city walls in the most ominous fashion!”
Emer wrinkled her nose, “It must look-and smell-odious. What business was it that took ye to these places? It sounds as if ye were a merchant like me grandfaither.”
Caillen shrugged his shoulders, “Aye an’ nay, ye could say. I am more like an overseer. I make sure precious cargoes reach their destinations with nae mishaps along the way.”
“That sounds very vague as a job description, Caillen,” Emer remarked.
Caillen chuckled. He enjoyed the way Emer was not afraid to hold back her thoughts. She said exactly what was on her mind and champed at the bit with the idea of subterfuge.
“The seas are a dangerous place, lass. Many things can go awry. When I’m on board, bad things dinnae happen. That’s a rare commodity in and of itself! And the cargoes get to where they have to be, meaning the places where they will fetch the highest prices, in the shortest time, by the swiftest route, and with nae problems getting in the way of everyone’s happiness. Have ye nae read yer Shakespeare? The Merchant o’ Venice? If Antonio had had me, he wouldnae had to sacrifice his pound o’ flesh. But then we’d nae have that stage play, and that would be a sore pity.”
Fascinated, Emer asked more questions, “Is that why they have to press men into serving aboard ships? Because of the dangers?”
Caillen shook his head, “None o’ the men onboard mine own ships are pressed. They are all free men, all have a share in the profits, and every one o’ them trusts me as I do them. It will nae work otherwise. Believe me when I say, ye should see how hard a man fights when it’s his own profits on the line. I have nae suffered a successful pirating or pilfering since I first set sail.”
Emer looked at his sun-bronzed skin and where the ocean salts had tinted the top of his hair gold.
“It sounds lovely, at least, ye make it do,” Emer said with admiration.
“Ye make yer perfumes sound as appetizing as ye are yerself in the flesh, Emer,” Caillen spoke the words so softly, Emer thought she must have misunderstood the meaning behind them at first.
She shifted her position, realizing her body was reclining in a seductive manner. When she sat up, she shook her skirts free of tiny grass seeds and pollen, trying to look business-like, but all she succeeded in doing was looking adorably nervous.
“What I wanted to say, Caillen is this: at first, I thought ye were a frivolous person, only interested in having fun and nae happy to take on the responsibilities of Laird. But now I ken more of yer story, I must ask yer forgiveness for nae taking ye seriously.”
Caillen got up and came toward her, holding out his hand to help her stand up. When Emer took his hand, he pulled her up but did not let her hand go. Instead, he brought her closer, saying,
“And I must ask yer forgiveness for nae asking yer permission to do this,”
And he kissed her.
Chapter Twenty
Could it be? His touch is so familiar to me, and yet it’s impossible. What would a Laird be doing up in castle turret, grabbing women as they come into the room, and forcing them to kiss him? It makes nae sense!
Emer recognized his kiss from the very moment his mouth pressed against hers. The taste of his lips, the soft roughness of his beard, even the way his arms held her by the waist, compelling her body to come closer toward him, it was-ithadto be-the man from the east wing tower on the night of the feast, but she could not be entirely sure.
And Emer had to admit to herself Caillen’s kiss was just as sweet as before and twice as welcome now that she knew it was he who was holding her.
There was something so tempting about the way Caillen felt when he held her in his embrace. His mouth, honey-sweet from mead, hungrily pressed against her lips, demanding she part them open to accept a deeper, longer intimacy. The tip of his tongue probed her mouth, insistent and yet utterly desirable. It was only a kiss, but Emer felt other parts of her body burst with a tingling sensation. It flooded her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and it made her want to sink into the flower-strewn grass and lie down with him until she felt satisfied.
There would be no pushing him away this time. Emer, unaware she was even doing it, raised her arms and wrapped them around Caillen, wanting him closer just as much as he wanted her. She was so immersed in their kiss, she ran her hands along his broad, muscular shoulders and over the back of his neck without thinking as to why she felt the need to do so, reveling in the feeling of his hard body underneath her eager touch. To Emer, his skin seemed warmed by the sun, unaware the heat was rising in her body quickly.
A young woman, new to sensual pleasures of any kind, she was caught up in a whirlwind of sensations and thoughts. Just living for the moment, every heartbeat brought a different heightened feeling. She let his kiss devour her, their breathing rose and fell as one, the forest noises faded away, even the breeze and sunshine seemed to diminish because everything was about this kiss, this intoxicating closeness.
Unaware she did it, Emer gave a soft moan of pleasure, as though her voice had no other way of expressing her bliss.
Caillen stopped but did not move away. All he did was move his mouth a fraction from her own and ask, “Was that an ‘aye’ or a ‘nay’? Or did ye want to say ye’re enjoying this as much as I am?”
