Page 54
Clarissa winced. He was her king, not his, and therefore it was not treasonous for Aidan to comment on his likely fate so bluntly. Even so, she knew he was right. She’d heard the whispers.
“I should say, then, the king’s advisors would be cross with my father if he were to oust one of the king’s favorites, even if he has the authority to do so. I know what he’s said but—” She shrugged, less and less sure of her convictions. Perhaps she was wrong. “My father has spent his life garnering favor with the king. ’Tis the only thing he cares about more than expanding the holdings that will one day go to the babe I am not carrying. Which is why he will never, ever allow me to marry a Scot. With no other heirs, Theffield will pass to me. A woman. And he will not allow that either.”
Aidan’s eyes widened. “What if you relinquished your claim?”
“I would do so, gladly. But don’t you understand? If that happens, Theffield will revert back to the crown upon his death, and that will mean my father has lost.”
And Father never, ever loses.
“Look at me, Clarissa.”
He moved too close for her not to do so. Her heart hammered in her chest, ignoring her attempts to calm it. “I cannot stay.”
“But neither can you leave.”
“My father—”
“Can be dealt with. Before his meeting with Douglas. After. I care not. Surely you realize that this—” he gestured to both of them, “—happens just once in a lifetime.”
She wanted to agree. Clarissa had never wanted anything more than to throw herself into Aidan’s arms and forget that her father could be coming for her even now.
“You are wrong,” she said, her voice small but her heart filled with love. “It has happened once before,” she rushed to clarify, needing to smooth the furrow in his brow, “at the Tournament of the North when a very handsome Scotsman looked at me as if I were the most beautiful woman in the stands.”
“In all of England, and all of Scotland too. And that was before I knew you as I do now.”
“And then I let you go.”
“Nay.” He grabbed her hands. “You did not let me go. Your father forced you to leave.”
“As he will do again.”
Aidan’s shoulders sagged. “We will find a way.”
Clarissa wished she shared his conviction. She got to her feet. “And what of Highgate End? And Lady Gillian and Allie? Your niece or neph—”
“What of you, Clarissa? Do you not matter as much as they do?”
In truth, she was not sure that she did.
“Aidan—”
He kissed her before she could finish. This kiss was unlike the others they’d shared. It was less frantic, his lips opening hers like a flower’s petals in spring. Soft and slow, until his tongue took over her mouth. It circled her upper lip and then the lower, reverently, and then finally found her own. Like before, a fluttering ran from her chest to her stomach and then lower. When his hands moved up to her head, holding it in place as he continued his gentle assault, Clarissa wrapped her arms around him lest she fall to the ground.
He’d certainly mastered helping her forget their troubles.
“Open wide for me, my love.”
Clarissa thought she had already, but when she did as he instructed, his mouth slanted over hers and took even more. So this was what it meant to be consumed by someone. She met each thrust of his tongue as his hands moved swiftly from her head to her bottom. As he pulled her toward him, Clarissa clung to him. She could clearly feel him against her, and she knew unequivocally what he tried to tell her.
Throbbing with need and aware of Aidan in a way she could not explain, Clarissa felt her shoulders heave with an exertion that was hardly warranted. She had done nothing but stand there, and yet she may as well have run up the very hill they’d raced on last eve.
“And this,” she said, somehow knowing, “this happens but once in a lifetime.”
Aidan smiled, a slow sensuous smile that promised so much.
“Twice, I’ve been told.”
She laughed then, so hard she was sure the guards outside could hear her. And she did forget everything, save the sweet sound of Aidan’s laughter as the faintest of lines appeared around the corners of his eyes.
