Her cheeks grew pinker. She gasped a little breath when he leaned in. He should stop. He would stop if she requested or demanded it. He hoped she would allow it.
Her breath was sweet against his lips, proving his first assumption. He breathed her in and reached for her bonnie cheek. Pressing his mouth to hers was the hardest thing Constantine had done. Marching into battle, clothed in mists with bagpipes playing a haunting tune all around him was not as hard as this. Going home to an empty house was not as difficult.
He knew himself then. Kissing Ismay Drummond meant he was changing into someone he didn’t know.
Let me be a stranger to myself, he settled it in his head. He took her in the way a starving peasant enjoyed his first meal in days. He did not kiss her harshly or without control. Nae, he took his time, caressing her petal-soft cheek then running his fingers through those bouncy flames and moving her head closer. He savored the scent of her, the feel of her in his hand, the taste of her like sweet fruit off the tree.
He could have continued basking in her for the rest of the night, but when he stroked the inside of her mouth with his tongue, she froze up and backed away.
He was glad. It was better to stop before he did something he would regret—like promise her anything.
“Ye are the first man who kissed me with intimacy,” she confessed. “I fear I let it overwhelm me.”
He offered her a smile. “I think the solution to that is practicin’ more often; gettin’ accustomed to it.”
“Is that so?” she asked with a playful grin that made his foolish head spin.
“Aye. I am a patient man. I dinna let desire rule over me.”
“Desire?” she asked, her eyes widening. “Fer me?”
He nodded and watched her face go up in flames.
“Ismay?”
“Aye?”
He did not release her gaze. “I willna let any desire rule over me. Ye have nothin’ to fear from me, aye?”
“I dinna fear ye, Constantine. Ye are the only man in my world whom I trust.”
Now it was his turn to blush. To trust another being in this life was a risk. If one was graced to be the one another trusted, it was an honor. A great one. Knowing Ismay had no one else made his heart break. She had had one man in her life, only one she trusted. Now that her father was gone, she had no one.
Nae. She had him.
It hardened his resolve to protect her, even from himself.
“Come, the hour is late,” he urged gently, hesitantly. “Let me escort ye to yer chambers.”
“All right,” she said, suddenly shyly.
She walked beside him down the hall to her chamber door. When they stopped before it, he leaned across her and opened the door with one hand. His heart thrashed wildly in his chest with the desire to kiss her again. But he had promised to let control lead him.
Before he had a chance to move out of her way, she gave him new things to dream about when she stepped past him and gave his lips a short, bold kiss.
He watched her disappear into the chamber, too surprised and pleased to speak.
She kissed him! He found it so exhilarating he almost knocked on her door to see if she would do it again. He laughed softly. He laughed! Och, what was he to do with her? He would not send her away and return to his dull, dreary days, hearing the sametalk about responsibilities, raiding, the troubles of others, some fact he already knew about his enemies.
Ismay Drummond breathed fresh air into his days and he would not be quick to let her go. But would she stay? Or would she choose a holier life hidden in a convent than one with him? He would not force her to stay. He would not force her to do anything she chose not to do. If she left, would his guilt over betraying Alison’s memory leave with her?
Would she wait while he went off to fight?
For the second time in his life, he wished he did not have to leave for battle. It would be a fight to the death. The MacKintosh chief would die and Constantine would inherit yet another sorrowful spirit that lived in his head.
He’d been killing for a long time now. The weight of all he had done was slowly destroying him, for he was drowning in the darkness.
But…his smile returned, reigning supreme. He wasn’t a monster. He was a soldier. If he had to fight, he would. If he had to kill a man for kidnapping a woman with vile intent, he would. But he would add praying for a way to avoid the upcoming battle to his list of strategies.
