Page 48 of Kidnapped By a Highland Shadow

Pippia nodded. “Probably. But my father won’t.”

“Pippia…”

“You know it’s true. I know it’s true, although it’s hard to understand.” Pippia paused, choking down a sudden flood of emotion. “There are people I will miss. Hilda, for one. She’s been like a mother to me. And Gordon, too. But they can’t save me, and they know that. Perhaps I can contact them later, but for now…well, I know they would want me to be happy. I’ve got nothing to go back to, except for a forced marriage to a man I care nothing for. I want to be with you, Arran. I’m not a fool, I know it won’t be easy, but it has to be better than the alternative.”

Arran swallowed hard, and Pippia tracked the movement of his throat with her eyes.

“Please,” she continued. “Let me come with you. I want to come with you.”

“Alright,” Arran managed, his voice rough and choked with emotion. “We’ll go together. We’ll start a new life. I can’t promise it’ll be easy…”

“I’d be sorry if you did,” Pippia said, with a gurgle of laughter, and Arran’s face split into a wide grin.

“Well, are you going to let me go yet? We still have to get a move on, one way or another.”

“Let you go? Certainly not. I don’t think I’ll ever let you go. Or at least, it’ll be a very long time before I do.”

Arran ran a finger along Pippia’s cheek, gently pinching her chin. He tilted her face up toward him, and Pippia smiled up at him.

“So, I suppose… I mean, that is…” Arran stammered, and flushed at Pippia’s grin.

“Come on, spit it out, lad.”

He chuckled. “I was going to tell you that I love you, and I was going to ask if you’d do me the honor of becoming my wife. If that’s what you want, that is.”

“Oh, it certainly is.” Pippia smiled, and Arran felt a flutter in his chest of happiness, so powerful and overwhelming that it almost hurt.

“I don’t have a ring.”

“We can get a ring later.” Pippia’s gaze flickered down to his lips, and Arran was more than happy to take the hint. He leaned down—no small feat with Pippia’s arms still wrapped tightly around his middle—and gently kissed her.

Arran tangled his hand in Pippia’s long, fair hair, risking getting it entangled forever (she had gone several days without a comb, after all), and Pippia’s hands slid up his chest, curling around his shoulders. Arran felt that his heart was likely to burst. Was it possible to be this happy?