He was quiet for a moment, staring at the floor. Then he looked up at her and smiled. “There is room in my heart fer all of ye…and more to come.”
“More?”
He aimed a slanted smile at her and nodded.
Her heart flipped behind her bones and made her spring to her feet and headfor the door.
He followed and caught up with her. He was still smiling.
“Where were ye?” she asked and patted her forehead with the back of her hand.
“Fishin’ fer breakfast.”
“Och!” she gasped with excitement lighting her eyes. “Is there a loch nearby?”
“A stream.”
“That will do.”
“Fer what?”
“Fer a quick wash.”
“’Tis a cold mornin’, lass.” he told her.
“A wee bit of cold never killed anyone.”
“Aye, actually, it has,” he corrected to no avail when she snatched his hand and pulled him with her down the stairs.
He wrapped her in two plaids and then kissed her forehead before stepping outside with her.
She was surprised and delighted to find the ribbon stream glistening in the sun, not ten steps away from the back of the house. When she saw it, she hurried toward it.
She hurried to the edge and dipped her feet into the water. She squeaked with delight and turned to him. “’Tis freezing!”
He laughed behind her, but not too far behind. “Shall we head back then?”
“Nonsense,” she told him, grabbing fistfuls of her skirts and stepping into the steam up to her calves.
He was quiet so she turned to find him. He was there, removing his boots and rolling up his pants.
“What are ye doing?” she asked and laughed when he entered the water.
“Ye said ye needed to wash.” He moved closer, his voice grew huskier. “I’m here to help.”
She blushed at the thought, but her blood also felt hot, like liquidfire. Did men do such things as bathe their women? She found the idea of it quite pleasing.
But it felt so much better than she could have ever imagined. His hands explored her with curious fingers that felt like fiery brands on her skin.
Her flesh reacted, growing tight and needful. She wanted to tell him she loved him, but at a time like this—when passion reigned—her heart was likely not on his mind. She could understand why not. Her body was reacting because she wanted more with him physically. What if he thought she was mistaking love for mere passion? Though, in truth, there was nothingmereabout it.
He gave in to her every whim, and she gave in to his.
Later, he carried her back to the house and set her in the sitting room before a roaring hearth and covered her in a wool blanket. She snuggled in the blanket, seeking more warmth and felt him behind her. She closed her eyes and sighed in satisfied delight when he began rubbing her hair with another, smaller cloth.
When he leaned down and kissed her temple, she wanted to weep with how much she loved him. He was like water to her thirsty soul. Every moment with him made her love bloom and grow more.
“Constantine?”
