The Highland Wife. Lyn Stone

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      Just as rapidly as it had come, his smile faded. The taciturn baron frowned as he regarded the basket she carried. That left her wondering if she had merely imagined his greeting. Wishful thinking?

      Her wits returned, Mairi lifted the cloth on the basket to show him. “I brought food. There’s a wondrous place I could show ye, if ye’d like to ride.” She then lifted a bridle off its peg and handed it to him, nodding toward her mare.

      “Ride?” He glanced around them and back at her. “Alone?”

      She grinned and cocked her head to one side. “Why not? We are betrothed. Who’s there to censure us? None, that’s who!”

      With a shrug of uncertainty, he reached for her saddle. Mairi felt content to simply watch him move as he readied her mount and then his own.

      Grace in motion, she thought, impressed by the economy of his every action, the play of muscles just visible through his well-fitted clothing.

      Rude or not, he stirred her blood, this man. He was the first to do so, and so she half forgave him for his inattentiveness last evening and the lapse of that enchanting smile just now. Mayhaps he was only shy, or had never been taught better manners.

      She could teach him. For a first lesson, she waited expectantly for him to assist her in mounting. After a hasty perusal of her person, he grasped her waist, lifted her as if she weighed no more than the basket of food and plunked her atop her mare.

      Had those braw hands of his lingered longer upon her than necessary? She thought so. A good sign, that.

      He quickly mounted and they rode in silence for a while with Mairi leading the way. Her special place awaited them, a lovely clearing in the wood where a stream pooled beneath a shallow fall. The ferns and flowers growing there made it seem a faerie glen. They could spend a few quiet hours away from the keep, becoming acquainted.

      Not that she would allow him any liberties. He would know better than to attempt that before the wedding, certainly. Or would he?

      Mairi smiled to herself, almost wishing he would abandon propriety. Many a couple anticipated their final vows. Not that she would countenance such doings, of course, even to turn him up sweet. A lady must have limits. Da said so.

      So many times Mairi had wished to speak with another woman about these matters. Her mother was long dead and the few females left at Craigmuir were not the sort she’d ask for advice of that nature. Most were right free with their favors and made no secret of it.

      When they reached her destination, MacBain remained mounted and spent quite some time observing the surrounding woods. She could have sworn he checked the grassy ground for tracks and sniffed the air for trouble. Did he believe she had invited him into a trap of some kind?

      “I like it,” he announced finally as he dismounted and came to assist her off her mare.

      Then he bent down and quickly gathered a fistful of wildflowers. “For you,” he said, all but glaring as he held them out. Mairi chose to believe he merely worried whether she would appreciate the offering. She decided to ignore the intensity of his regard. God’s truth, he rarely blinked.

      “I thank ye!” she muttered, quite taken aback by the gesture, perfunctory as it was. He certainly wasted no time. Or tenderness. However, he had made an effort and she would give him the credit for it.

      “Coom with me,” she ordered, reaching for the strong hand she had just emptied of the blooms. She grasped it and pulled him along toward the bank of the stream, set upon making friends with the man, no matter how rough his manners.

      He dropped to a sitting position, gently pulling Mairi down with him. Once seated, he glanced at the water, shot her a look of daring and began to remove his boots.

      Intrigued at his unexpected hint of laddie-like behavior, she took the dare and did likewise, tossing her shoes and hose over her shoulder onto the grass. In moments, they sat side by side, bare feet slowly swishing in the cold, clear water.

      “Ah, here’s a pleasure, in’t?” she commented, lying back upon the lush carpet of green behind her. “Have ye such a place near yer home? Somewhere special to ye as this one is to me?”

      Though he did not answer, he reclined on one elbow, leaned over her and fixed that avid gray gaze upon her face. For a moment Mairi thought he might kiss her, but he only reached for the flowers she still held in her hand and chose one.

      “Beauty,” he whispered gruffly, teasing her nose with the petals. “Here,” he said, dragging the flower across her lips. “Here,” he repeated, drawing it down her neck to the edge of her chemise that peeked above her gown. “Hiding,” he teased, trailing the small bloom across the fabric covering her breasts and stomach.

      Heat flared within her. More than anything, she wished to see that smile of his. She had surprised it out of him once at the stable. Could she do it again?

      “Kiss?” she murmured coyly, adopting his peculiar habit of brevity in speech.

      As an answer, he simply lowered his mouth to hers. After a moment’s gentle press of his lips, he eased hers open with his tongue. She’d never been kissed so in her life. More’s the pity, Mairi thought, enjoying the sensation immensely. She quickly responded to his exploration with a foray of her own.

      She met the hot, wet warmth of his mouth, tasting his heat as her own increased. Encompassed and loving it, Mairi saw no need to withdraw. They gave and took with an abandon that sent a trail of fire down her middle, a consuming blaze she could scarcely control. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as sparks danced behind her eyelids.

      When he drew back, breathing as heavily as she, Mairi blinked up at him in wonder, realizing that nothing save their mouths had touched. If he could wreak that sort of havoc with only lips and tongue, whatever might he do with the rest of him? She released a heavy sigh and closed her eyes again, just imagining.

      “You want me?” he asked. And sounded serious.

      “Is the sky blue?” she replied wryly, eyes still shut, a silly grin stretching her lips wide. “What do ye think, ye foolish lad?”

      He laughed. A strange sound, she thought. Too loud and abrupt, as if he did that rarely and it had caught him unaware.

      Mairi rather liked his laughter the more because it was not planned. Because she had surprised it out of him. Surely a man could love a woman who made him laugh, especially if he had little laughter in his life.

      She would provide that for him, Mairi decided on the instant. Laughter and children. Both, in abundance. She laughed, as well, delighted by the notion.

      He seemed easier to be with now, more comfortable in her presence after their kiss and her bit of teasing.

      For what seemed hours, they lay side by side, the fingers of her right hand interlaced with those of his left. Now and again, he would turn his head to look at her—sometimes quizzically, other times with satisfaction—but no words passed between them. She detected a ripple of uncertainty beneath his calm, as though he wished to speak of something, but held back.

      What a mystery he was! Why did he not ask questions of her or tell her about himself? Mairi longed to know about the home he planned to offer her and the СКАЧАТЬ