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I could admit that sounded lovely, even though I refused to acknowledge the bragging.
Later, he showed Ewan how to butcher the meat he’d shot for our supper, and kept him enthralled with tales of his world.
“There’s a pack of wee ones that run loose in my village—twenty, mayhap more.” He winked at my son. “They go over the walls, into the boats, up the cliff after gull eggs—and every adult on that island will feed them and scold them and send them home again.”
His grin seemed like he was speaking from experience.
“A lad could disappear into that lot and no’ be found ‘til supper."
And then, before dinner, came one I hadn’t expected.
He knelt on the floor, his head down, as he worked on the wobbly table.
“Ye ken, I’ve been thinking on what John called ye. We dinnae have that word in my world.”
He rocked the table experimentally.
“We’ve a female on Islay—auld enough to be my grandmother—who has lived with five different males during her lifetime without being Mated to any of them. She keeps the clan's history, and everyone asks her opinion afore they do aught important.”
In my world, a woman could be driven out and risk death for sleeping with a male not her husband…and in his world, she was respected?
Huh.
And every chance he got, Maardok spoke of the delicious-sounding hot springs.
They were compelling reasons, and by that evening, I was all-but-convinced. Of course, the hot promise in Maardok’s gaze didn’t hurt his argument either. If I went with him, I would have all winter to kiss him.
He said he would allow you to leave after the winter…but what will he do if he learns the babe is his?
The babe might be his, but if his world wasn’t as idyllic as he claimed, or if ‘twas not any safer for Ewan than this one, then I would leave. I was determined enough to find a way.
I would tell him tonight.
And after that, I would tell him the truth of the babe.
But after Ewan was asleep and Maardok went outside to take care of the chores which should have been mine, I found myself dozing in the bed. The bed which now seemed so empty without him after only sharing it for two nights.
God, how easy would it be to get into the habit of allowing myself to depend on him?
I was asleep when I felt the bed sag, and instinctively, I rolled over to face him, getting tangled in my chemise and the blankets, kicking irritably as I muttered sleepily. I heard him chuckle, then large, gentle hands reached for my knees and helped me untangle them.
But they didn’t release me, and I came fully awake as Maardok’s callused fingers slid up the inside of my thighs.
“Maardok,” I breathed, knowing there was something I was supposed to tell him now that we were alone…but unable to concentrate because of the sudden flood of desire to my core, mere inches from his rough thumbs.
“Aye, dkaar?”
I could feel him loom over me in the darkness, his rumble a mere vibration which had me holding my breath.
“Ye wanted to tell me something? Mayhap ask?”
“What does dkaar mean?” I blurted, then winced, because ‘twas not what I’d wanted to ask.
“Beloved,” he murmured, then allowed his hands to continue their journey upward.
My muscles tensed, but his fingers didn’t pause near my wetness. Aye, they brushed over my damp curls, but instead continued upward, pushing the chemise up over the bulge of my belly, up toward my breasts.
I whimpered in shame and need and confusion, but didn’t stop him.
