Page 47 of Wicked Kilted Highlander

“Aye. Ye always dae.”

A soft laugh. “Flatterer.”

“It’s nae flattery. Only truth.”

Lara’s gaze dropped, but not before he glimpsed the warmth in her eyes.

he asked. “Or have ye a hunger for something else?”

Her head jerked up, eyes wide. “Nay! I mean—” She bit her lip, color flaming her cheeks once more. “Food. We should eat.”

Chuckling, Darragh cupped her face in his hands. “Dinnae fret, mo ghráidh. I shall never press ye.”

“I ken.” She smiled, shy but genuine. “Ye have been most patient with me.”

“And shall continue tae be.” He brushed his lips over hers. “Ye are worth the wait.”

Lara’s arms stole around his neck, drawing him down into a kiss that stirred his blood. When at last they parted, her eyes shone. “Perhaps the wait will nae be so very long after all.”

Joy swelled in his chest, sudden and sharp. “Lara—”

“Food first.” She slipped from his embrace, casting him a teasing glance. “Then we shall see.”

Just then, the chamber door banged open. “Lara, have ye seen—Oh!”

Elsie, as Darragh imagined from her resemblance with Lara, stood frozen on the threshold, eyes round as coins, gaping at them. Darragh felt the blood drain from his face, cursing himself for a fool. In the joy of the moment, he’d forgotten anyone might come upon them unannounced.

For a long, awful moment, none of them spoke. Then Elsie let out a shriek that rattled the windowpanes and bolted like a startled hare.

“Elsie, wait!” Lara started after her sister, but Darragh caught her hand.

“Let her go, mo ghráidh. The damage is done.” He grimaced.

Lara groaned, covering her face with her hands. “This is a disaster. Ach, what about me faither?”

“He will have tae accept it.” Darragh drew her into his arms, stroking her hair. “We sleep in the same bed, dae ye think he expects something else? We’ve done naught wrong. And it’s time he kenned of our affection as husband and wife, in any case,” he chuckled.

She peered up at him, eyes still anxious. “Dae ye think so?”

“Aye. We shall speak tae him together, if ye like,” he smiled and tipped up her chin. “Dinnae fret. All will be well, ye shall see. We’ll find a way tae fix this mess.”

Though she did not seem wholly convinced, she nodded. “Very well. I will trust in ye, as always.”

“It’s all I ask.” He kissed her forehead. “But fer now, let us nae borrow trouble. We have this day tae ourselves yet.”

At that, her expression brightened. “So, we dae.” She rose onto her toes, lips curving. “Where were we?”

Joy banished the last of Darragh’s concern. When Lara looked at him so, the rest of the world fell away. He had no doubt that her father’s wrath would be a small price to pay for the gift of her love.

“Here, let me.” Darragh came up behind her, fingers brushing hers aside to work the laces of her kirtle.

Lara went still, a soft intake of breath the only sign she’d felt his touch. The familiar scent of her—lavender and rosemary, with a trace of musk that was hers alone—addled his wits, as always.

His knuckles grazed the nape of her neck and she shivered, lashes fluttering. Heart pounding, he gathered her hair and swept it aside, baring tender flesh that begged for his lips.

“Darragh.” Her protest was halfhearted at best, desire ripening her voice to a dusky sweetness.

“Hmm?” He brushed his mouth over the delicate ridge of bone and tendon, thrilling at her responsive quiver.

“The laces.” Her hand covered his, guiding it back to its task. “Please.”

Chuckling, he relented, fingers working swiftly. “So impatient, mo ghráidh.”

“Says the man who is more impatient than anyone I’ve met,” despite her tart words, she leaned into his touch.

“Och, that was different.” The laces undone, he spread the parted sides of her kirtle, baring inches of creamy skin. “Ye can hardly blame me for that.”

Lara gasped, then wrenched away. Crimson stained her cheeks as she bent to tighten her laces once more. “Ye, Darragh, are incorrigible.”

“And ye adore me for it.” Grinning, Darragh snatched her close, swallowing her squeak of protest in a searing kiss.

She melted against him with a sigh, lashes fluttering shut. But all too soon, she pulled back, eyes alight with mischief. “Dae I?”

Before he could reply, she slipped from his arms and darted for the door. “Mayhap ye should find a way to prove it!”

“Lara!” He started after her, but by the time he gained the hall, she had vanished.

Darragh ran a hand through his hair, torn between annoyance and amusement. It seemed his bonny lass meant to lead him a merry chase. But he would have her yet, and when he did, she’d not soon forget who had caught her.