Flora was exhausted, but she refused to give up. Realizing that if she continued to fight the current she would soon grow too tired, she rolled on her back and floated as Lachlan had taught her—conserving her strength and allowing the water to carry her in.
It was growing dark, and she could no longer see what was happening on the beach, but she wouldn’t give in to her fear, even when a big wave dragged her under for a moment. She had too much to live for. She wanted Lachlan to hold her in his arms again and tell her that he loved her. She wanted to call him husband. She wanted to make a life with him. Her throat squeezed. She wanted to hold their first child in her arms.
If only it weren’t so cold. Her teeth were chattering, and her limbs had gone stiff. All she wanted to do was close her eyes. Her lids fluttered….
“Flora!”
The mere sound of his voice jerked her fully awake. “Here,” she cried, tears of relief springing to her eyes. “I’m here.”
“Thank God.”
Though it was only a few moments, it seemed to take an eternity before she caught sight of him. Her emotions, barely contained, shattered when the achingly familiar ruggedly handsome features came into view—the hard angles of his face made more pronounced by the shadows of the beckoning night. A pillar of strength in a sea of danger. He’d found her; the nightmare was over. With a strangled cry, she swam toward him.
Seconds later, he had her. His steely arms wrapped around her and pulled her against the solid wall of his chest. She breathed him in, savoring his strength and vitality. He gripped her tight, his fingers raking through the tangle of her hair and pressing into her back as if he would never let her go. She clung to him, taking refuge in the security of his embrace.
His wet cheek pressed against hers, the scrape of his day-old beard against her chilled skin achingly familiar. He was breathing hard, and she could feel the heavy beat of his heart against hers. Even soaking wet in the freezing sea, a subtle warmth radiated from him.
Overwhelmed, she started to sob.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, smoothing her hair. “You’re safe.” Cupping her chin, he looked into her watery eyes. “You nearly scared the life out of me. I thought—” His voice broke. “I saw you floating like that, and I thought you were dead.”
Flora shook her head. “I’m afraid you won’t get rid of me that easily.”
“Get rid of you?” He pulled her close and pressed a hard kiss on her freezing lips. She tasted of salt and sea, but nothing had ever tasted sweeter. “Never,” he said, looking deep into her eyes. And then he kissed her again, longer this time, with an aching tenderness that sent a tingle of warmth to her icy limbs. “Now if we both don’t want to freeze to death, I suggest we get back to the castle as soon as possible.”
She nodded, and with Lachlan’s aid and instruction, they swam for shore—not directly, as she’d attempted before, but diagonally with the current.
Soon she could see Rory and Lachlan’s men wading toward them and knew that she’d done it. She’d fought her fear and won. And though she felt ready to collapse, the feeling of accomplishment gave her an unexpected swell of strength that carried her through the last few strokes.
As soon as the water was shallow enough, Lachlan stood and cradled her in his arms, carrying her the rest of the way. She pressed her face against the familiar hard planes of his chest, savoring the simple sensation of being held in his arms again.
Rory rushed toward them. “Is she all right?” he asked Lachlan.
Flora could hear the worry in his voice and immediately moved to reassure him. “I’m fine.”
“Thank God.” He drew off his plaid, which was blissfully dry, and gave it to Lachlan to wrap her in, covering her near nakedness and providing much needed warmth.
“She’s freezing,” Lachlan said. “I need to get her to the castle as soon as possible. Have my room prepared.”
“Look here, Coll,” Rory said, blocking his path to the castle. “I thought we agreed. I’ll not have my sister forced into this marriage. It’s best if you put her in another room.”
Why, he’s trying to protect me,Flora realized. Warmed by the show of brotherly affection, especially after what she’d just been through, she gave Rory a grateful smile. One that Lachlan mistook.
His jaw flexed, and she could tell he wanted to argue, but instead he pushed past Rory and said through clenched teeth, “Any damn room, then.”
Flora hid a smile and thought about teasing him for a bit longer, but he was right—she was freezing. “I thank you for your concern, Rory,” she said to her brother, who’d kept pace with them. “But the laird’s bedchamber will be perfect.”
Lachlan stopped midstep and gazed down at her, hope glistening in his eyes.
“Are you sure, lass?” Rory asked.
But Flora couldn’t look away from Lachlan. The depth of his feeling for her had been splayed open to her gaze, revealing her heart’s desire. She would remember this moment forever. Remember how it felt to know without a doubt that she was loved—totally and completely. Despite what he’d done in manipulating their marriage, he’d been willing to give his life for hers.
“Aye,” she said softly. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
Lachlan squeezed her tight and, not giving Rory the time to respond, carried her through the crowds of cheering clansmen. The Maclean of Coll had come home.
The door closed behind his serving woman Mairi, but despite her assurances, Lachlan still could not relax. He checked the fire, adjusted her pillow, and tucked another plaid around Flora.
