Blair’s eyes narrowed as she propped herself up on her elbow to look at him straight on. “A proposition? What sort of proposition?”
Reade dropped his hand to the blanket, covering her slender fingers with his own thick ones. His hand swallowed hers in a light grip. She didn’t pull away, and he saw that as a solid start.
“What I said last night, after I said I canna trust ye because I dinna know ye, and ye flinched from my hand. Therein lies the problem. We dinna know each other at all. We may have shared a bed for the past fortnight.” Here he pursed his lips before continuing. “Of a sort, at least. But we dinna speak. We have no shared history, and we dinna know anything about each other that is no’ borne of rumor.”
She nodded at his words, encouraging him to continue.
“I did no’ want to wed ye or have ye in our clan for many reasons. Most of those are due to your supposed connection to the Campbells. I have other reasons, ones I may share with ye one day, but the animosity in the Highlands strikes at the heart of every MacDonald, including me. If I have judged ye unfairly, ‘tis solely because I had naught else by which to measure ye.” Blair blinked at his words, and the tension in her lips softened as he continued. “And ye, from your reaction yestereve, and your words on our wedding night, ‘twould seem ye’ve been harshly used in your life. I would change that for ye, show ye that ye have naught to fear from the MacDonalds.”
Her lips twitched. “Even if ye believe me to be a spy or a traitor?”
Reade disliked her question, as it opened up the ugly wound of doubt. Was she suggesting she was a spy? Nay. Most likely she feared being unheard, something that appeared to have happened throughout her life.
He shook his head. “We have no proof, no evidence, that ye are a spy. Ye’ve done naught but be a fine woman in the clan. And if something does come out, well, we will address that if the issue arises. But none of that will matter if ye canna trust me, and ye canna trust me because ye dinna know me.”
He echoed the words from last night to reiterate the significance of this notion.
“Thus your proposition is we get to know each other?”
Reade nodded. “Aye. Let us bury the ashes of the past. Let us put the rumors and suppositions to bed and instead start as though we’ve just met and have no judgments about each other.”
Blair didn’t move. Rather, she stared at him, her blue eyes drawing him in, and if he hadn’t had preconceived ideas of the lass when he first met her, he could have easily fallen for her.
Then the side of her mouth curled up. Was she smiling? He’d couldn’t recall seeing a real smile on her face. She bowed her head at him and returned her gaze to his.
“Good day to ye, milord. I’m Blair Hamilton Gordon MacDonald,” she said by way of introduction.
Reade’s own lips curled up in a mirror to hers.
“And I am Reade Seamus MacDonald, of the Glenachulish MacDonalds. A pleasure, milady.”
A glint of Blair’s teeth emerged between her full lips as her smile widened. “The pleasure is mine, Reade MacDonald.”
“Welcome toBrochGlenachulish. Might I give ye a tour of my fine home today?”
Blair licked her lips in the most enticing movement she could have made. He craved to lean forward and capture her lips in a kiss. But more foundation was needed before his lips, and then his cock, might find release.
“Aye. ‘Twould be an honor.”
Reade’s curled lips became a full smile. Thoughts of their differences, of his cousin, of the conflict with the Campbells had been shoved to the side. In this moment, in this bed, there was only Blair and himself.
A much better start, indeed.
They spent the nextfew days in each other’s company. Most of their discourse was lighthearted, of childhood memories and of his family. They avoided deeper discussions, neither one ready to rip open any scarred wounds and truly open their hearts to each other. They weren’t ready for that depth, yet.
However, as Reade noted, this was a start.
The worst part was, the more time Reade spent with Blair, the more he wanted her — he was more able to forget any rumors of her affiliations and see her as nothing more than a beautiful young woman who was rapidly capturing his heart.
And his desire. The day before, when she had slipped and he caught her on the stair, it had taken every ounce of his willpower not to shove her against the stone wall, flip up her skirts, and tup her there.
His anger and sorrow faded like old scars as he and Blair shared their stories, her suggestive smile, rich tresses, and delectable body filling the place those previous thoughts had occupied.
Which made casual conversation difficult, and sharing a bed more difficult. Before he’d gone to his chambers last evening, he’d ducked to his private corner outside the kitchens, rested his palm against the damp stones in the shadows, then lifted his kilt and took his engorged manhood in his hand, stroking his pulsing organ until he exploded in release. Sweaty and panting, he had leaned his forehead next to his hand, waiting for the stones to cool his fevered skin so he might regain a modicum of control.
‘Twas better he forced himself into his hand and spill his seed onto the ever-moist dirt in this shaded corner than to lose control as he laid next to Blair and end up forcing her. His need for the woman had grown into a need so strong, like the need to breathe itself, that holding himself back was becoming an impossible task.
Reade had spent the morning repairing some of the animal pens in the barn with his younger brother, Conall. He was of a good size and age, and had begun more formal training with Reade, learning to wield a sword and build his skills as his body grew into that of a capable Highland warrior. Too bad the poor lad had yet aways to go.
