But he had only meant that he was capable of getting hard again right away.
Oh.
Oh, her romantic Alasdair had become daringly wicked. And she had experienced an instant of mourning for what she had thought was going to be a proposal—but only an instant, as a wash of desire came over her, demanding that he touch her.
The second important moment was when he had been inside her the second time and beyond the excitement of knowing his pleasure and the satisfying feeling of being filled, she had sensed a rising tide of her own impending ecstasy and she realized she was going to release with him inside her. He was going to make her spend. And then she had had her first climax from someone besides herself.
She should have told him that at the time. That inthat way, he had been her first. After her discussions with him about her desire, he must surely see that that was a far more significant event for her than her penetration by Giles.
If only he had spent inside her, though. Then, even if he never asked for her hand, she still might have something of his forever. A redheaded baby. She smiled. If that happened, she really would have to go to the New World and start over completely. As a fictive widow, perhaps, living on some forested frontier with an auburn-haired daughter by her side.
Then she heard sounds in the house and knew it was morning despite the closed drapes and she managed to squirm from the lock of his arms. He slept on, her exhausted Alasdair, as she dressed and slipped from the room. She took the brown scarf with her. She held it to her nose as she descended the stairs. It no longer smelled of him and she felt a brief pang until she realized that she, Arabella, smelled of him instead.
There was a sound of dripping from the eaves. The sun was out and the snow was melting. Despite the depth of the snow still on the ground, Arabella could not bear to stay inside any longer.
She sought the butler out. “Please, Andrews, may I have my coat and bonnet and gloves? I must go for a walk.”
“We’ll be serving breakfast in half an hour, Mrs. Andrews.”
“Just let me have a piece of toast or something. I long to get out.”
And that is how Arabella found herself tramping through three-foot drifts with a ham sandwich in one hand, feeling quite gloriously alive and very grateful to be so.
She was getting out of breath from the exercise of walking in the deep snow and that was what she wanted. And she was halfway done with the sandwich when Alasdair got within shouting distance of her.
“Good morning,” he called out.
She turned around and waited for him to catch up with her. With his long legs, he had a much easier time than she did wading through the snow. And of course, he was making use of her partially broken path.
“Good morning,” he repeated himself when he drew even with her.
She smiled. “Good morning. Would you like some of my sandwich? It’s not hot anymore but it’s still delicious.”
“Uh, aye,” he said and took the sandwich from her gloved hand and sank his teeth into it.
She watched him chew. He had no hat on but he had the tartan scarf around his neck. From her point of view, it seemed like his red hair and the bright-green tartan were the only bits of color in the entire landscape, besides the blue sky.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” she asked, knowing he had his mouth full and he couldn’t answer.
He nodded.
She turned and started walking forward again.
He followed, but made his own path next to her. He swallowed.
“Thank ye,” he said and handed the sandwich back to her.
She took a bite and handed it back to him. He took another bite and handed it back to her.
She looked at what was left of the sandwich. There was one large bite left or two small bites. She took a small bite and handed it back to him, thinking they were done.
But then he said, “Arabella,” and handed her half a small bite.
She laughed and put the piece up to her mouth and used her teeth to carve off a little bit of the morsel. She gave him the tiny crumb of sandwich that was left and stopped walking, waiting to see what he would do next.
He popped it in his mouth.
“You finished my sandwich!” she said in mock-anger.
