Page 31 of Only a Highlander Will Do

Fiona marvelled at what had already been accomplished. At the centre of the green was a round garden that looked like the spokes of a carriage wheel, but on a much larger scale. In between each of the “spokes” was a plethora of flowers, some natural and others exotic. He showed her a pineapple tree that grew its fruit from a stalk that came from the ground up. It was the most unusual thing she had ever seen. “These plants are magnificent. I’ve never seen anything like them.”

They followed the path that cut through the round garden, heading to the southwest. After a time, Fiona paused at a familiar rushing sound. She turned to Tormod, her eyes wide. “It cannot be . . .”

He smiled back at her. “We have our very own waterfall.”

Eager to see it, Fiona rushed ahead, then stood before the spillway, revelling in the spray of cool spring water as it caressed the skin of her face, her arms. She tipped her face up to feel the refreshing mist fully. “It’s so beautiful. This is where I would walk every day, just to feel the quiet solitude the fall of the water brings,” she said when Tormod joined her.

“It would be my pleasure to come here with you every day for the rest of our lives.”

Her breath caught. He was making plans for their future. A future they would never have, at least not together.

As though sensing her distress, Tormod slowly turned her to face him. “Does it disturb you when I talk about our future?”

She forced a smile. “Everything is happening so fast.”

He pulled her closer and glanced down at her lips. “The legal documents should be complete by now. There is nothing to stop us from starting our lives together.”

Her belly flooded with liquid heat at the look of desire in his eyes. Would he kiss her this time?

He brought his hands up to cradle either side of her neck and angled her mouth up to his. Instead of kissing her, his lips brushed her temple. They moved slowly down her hairline, sliding down to capture the curve of her earlobe, remaining there long enough for her to feel her pulse quicken beneath his hands.

Tormod eased back. “I will not force you into anything you are not ready for, Fiona. One word from you and I step back.”

Fiona pressed her lips together. She had fought him in the forest, had resisted temptation all through their journey today, but she could fight him no more. She wanted to feel his mouth on her flesh. She wanted his heat and his strength. She wanted the memory of him to take with her when she left Dunvegan tonight.

She saw relief sweep through his dark eyes at her silence. His lips descended on hers. He drew her closer still, moulding his body against the warmth of her own. She parted her lips and he delved inside, probing with a sweetness, a possessiveness that sent a warm tingling web through her. After a time he pulled back, gazing into her face.

“This was supposed to be a walk in the garden, and as much as I want to explore every inch of your flesh, I will not do so with an audience.” He looked into the distance at the warriors who waited just beyond a cluster of trees. “What happens between us should be special and private.” He looked at her with a question on his face and tenderness in his eyes.

A warmth coiled thorough her. He was asking her once again if she wanted to proceed with this intimacy or return to the status quo they had come to earlier today. Fiona found herself staring at him, captivated by his gaze. He was a handsome man, especially when he smiled. That realisation sent a tiny thrill into her stomach. And he was hers if she only had the courage to reach for what they both wanted.

At her hesitation, he shifted forward and placed his hands on her arms. Palms open, they slid up to her elbows across her bare skin. The touch sent shivers through her body, sent longing stabbing into her heart. “Do we stay and view the gardens or go back to the castle?”

He wanted her, but he wanted her with the innocence of a man who did not know what she had planned for her future. Would giving in to their mutual desire now only hurt him more when she was gone?

Fiona closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “That is not an easy question to answer.”

His hands moved up and down her arms. He spread his fingers over her skin as though cherishing every inch of her along the way. “It can be, if you stop thinking and simply allow your body to react.”

She looked away, back down the path to Dunvegan. The leaves on the trees shivered in the breeze, and the sound of birds filled the air that was heavy with the scent of the earth and just a hint of the sea. “You don’t understand.” How could she explain what she was thinking, feeling? Two days ago she had loathed him for carrying her back to Dunvegan. But now there was something else, something fragile that had started to blossom between them. Their friendship was becoming deeper, stronger, changing into something more.

“I’m not the same man I was a day ago, and I think you are not the same woman either.”

She knew that much was true, but could she willingly give herself to him with an act that would make their marriage binding forever? Fiona felt her heart move into her throat as he shifted closer.

“I want to make love to you, Fiona,” he said in a voice so deep it made the last thread of her reservations snap. “Let me take you back to the castle.”

She melted under the dark temptation of his voice, his heat. “Aye,” she whispered.

Triumph mixed with desire in his eyes as he folded his hand around hers and started back down the path to the castle at a much faster pace than when they’d set out.

Now that the decision was made, Fiona was eager as well. In no time at all, they crossed over the Fairy Bridge and made their way back through the gates of the castle. In the front courtyard, they left the warriors behind. As soon as they were through the doors to the castle, Tormod scooped her up into his arms and took the stairs two at a time.

He carried her into his bedchamber, and only when the door was shut behind them did he set her on her feet. His gaze settled on the rapid rise and fall of her bosom above the neckline of her dress. Only a few days before she would have felt exposed by such a blatant perusal. The expression in his dark eyes shifted from awareness to something more. Heat. It was the only word she could think of to describe the intensity in his gaze. Tendrils of that very same heat reached out to her, ensnaring her in its trap.

Slowly, carefully, he drew near her, his gaze never leaving her face. He lowered his mouth until she could feel his breath on her lips. As gentle as a breeze, his lips met hers. A simple touch and her body flooded with the same warmth she’d seen in his eyes. Her limbs felt weak, her mind numb, until all she could sense was him—his smell, his taste—spiced honey and thistle. The combination was as intoxicating as the feeling of his hands on her cheeks, her neck.

She leaned into him. Her hands crept up his torso to wrap about his shoulders. He trembled beneath her touch. She urged him forward, into her own body, hoarding the sensation of power she held over him.