It was a cozy hearth in the middle of winter.
It was coming home.
As they sank into each other, he followed the glass buttons running the length of her spine, all the way up from the small of her back to the nape of her neck where a tawny curl wrapped around his wrist.
He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips; strolled leisurely within to taste her sweet nectar when her mouth parted on a surprised gasp. She stiffened, then relaxed on a mewling sigh that went straight to his loins as he traced the sensitive outer shell of her ear with the rough pad of his thumb before sliding his fingers into her elegant coiffure.
Hair pins dropped to the blanket and her curls tumbled down over his hands in a spill of yellow satin as their kiss continued to deepen. To carry them someplace so high into the clouds he wondered if he’d ever see the ground again. But nothing could fly forever and, with great reluctance, he finally ended their embrace. It was either that or continue kissing her into the night. But as tempting a notion as that was, he’d need to return her to the manor sooner rather than later.
“Here, let me help ye,” he said gruffly, scooping up whatever pins he could find hiding amidst the folds of the blanket and dropping them into her palm.
Biting her bottom lip, she averted her gaze as she fixed her coiffure, then adjusted her sleeves and bodice. Save for the rosy flush in her cheeks and the slightly dazed gleam in her eyes, no one would ever guess she’d stolen away from the party to be ravished by a Scot beside the stream.
Which was, Lachlan knew, how it needed to be.
At least for now.
Shyly, she peered up at him, and the uncertainty he saw in her eyes tugged straight at his heart. “That was my…that is to say, I’ve never…um…”
“Been kissed?” he asked bluntly.
Adorably, her blush intensified until her entire face was the shade of an apple ripe for the plucking. “Yes. I take it…I take it you have?”
“Dozens of times,” he said, and crowed with laughter when those hazel eyes tempered with green flashed. “Are ye jealous, little songbird?”
“No,” she snapped. Rising to her feet, she stepped off the blanket. “And you shouldn’t laugh at my expense.”
He stood as well, and put his hands on her shoulders. “I wasna laughing at ye, Bry. Not in the way ye mean. Yer innocence isna something tae be embarrassed about, and neither is me experience. I’ll freely admit ye are not the first woman I’ve kissed, and I’ve done a great deal more than that.”
Her nose wrinkled. “I really don’t want to hear about your conquests.”
“I’ve no plans tae share them, as intimacy is a private thing.” When she would have looked away, he caught her chin on the crook of his finger and lifted it so that their gazes met. “As I said, ye are not the first. But I’d like ye tae be the last.”
He could see that the importance of his words didn’t strike her immediately. But when they did, the color drained from her countenance and she simply stared, unblinking, while he questioned if he was about to go down in history as the world’s largest arse.
He gritted his teeth. “Say something.”
“I…you…we…”
He gave her a harmless shake. “Bluidy hell. Ye’re going tae kill me. Say something that’s more than a syllable.”
“Lachlan–”
“That’s a start.”
“I–”
Just then, a loud spill of raucous laughter sounded from the east lawn, and Brynne froze.
“I shouldn’t be here,” she said, her gaze darting as if she half-expected Lady Crowley to come springing out of the bushes. Given the dowager countess’ dedication to her young charge, it wasn’t a completely unfounded fear.
“I’ll walk ye back,” Lachlan offered, scooping up the blanket and tucking it under his arm along with the basket.
“No, I…thank you.” Her smile was fleeting, and already beginning to freeze along the edges. “But it would probably be best if I went back alone. I’ll say I went for a brief walk in the stables.”
“Aye.” Ignoring the twinge of hurt that came from the woman he loved needing to use an alibi to conceal the time she’d spent with him, Lachlan brandished his grin like a shield. “The stables. As tried and true a way tae cover up a scandalous tryst that there’s ever been.”
Her eyes still slightly wider than they should have been, Brynne nodded slowly, then started towards the trail that would take her back to the estate. But before she disappeared into the trees, she paused and partially turned, affording him a glimpse of her profile as a beam of dwindling sunlight filtered through the leaves to place a golden crown upon her head. “I want to be your last, Lachlan.”
