The Condemned Highlander (Highland Intrigue Trilogy 2)

Iver laughed. “Then I will leave you both to talk.”

Brogan shared his cloak with Annis once he sat beside her and she welcomed the extra warmth.

Annis resumed their conversation. “I do enjoy kissing you, but how do I know I’d enjoy you poking me?”

Brogan cringed. “First of all, we would not poke, we would make love.”

“Don’t you have to be in love to make love?” she asked.

Brogan scratched his head. “That’s a good question and one I realize I truly cannot answer since I have never been in love. I have cared for the women I have coupled with, but I had no love for any.”

“Couple, poke, make love, it’s all the same then. That’s rather disappointing,” Annis said. “And what if you get stuck with a husband or wife, whatever the case may be, who you don’t enjoy coupling with?” She scrunched her nose. “How awful that would be.”

“I can guarantee you will enjoy coupling with me,” Brogan boasted.

“So you say, but I may think differently,” she said. “And what if I disappoint you? After all, I have no experience and you might be impatient with my fumbling attempts.”

He laughed. “You can fumble all you want with me, mo ghràdh.”

Annis jabbed him in the side. “You think it’s funny now but may not think it funny later. What then? Would you go seek your pleasure with another?” She jabbed him again. “Because if you did, I would give you more than a bloody lip.”

Brogan laughed again. “Want me all to yourself, do you?”

“Would you want me all to yourself?” she asked.

His smile disappeared in an instant. “No other will ever touch you but me. You are mine and mine alone. I would kill any man who puts his hand on you.”

Why did that spark a bit of joy in her?

“Then you understand why I feel the same,” she said.

“We agree then. Another good start to a marriage.”

Annis yawned and Brogan settled her close against him, giving her a chance to rest her head on his shoulder if she wanted, and he smiled when she did.

“I am not ready to wed,” she said and yawned again. “Though I will admit that you might—might—not make as bad a husband as I first thought.”

“Another good start,” he said and hoped she’d agree to wed him of her own accord before she found out what he had kept from telling her… she was already his wife.

6

The sky was overcast when Annis and Brogan left for the hills and the mist hung heavy over the top of them.

“Will your father send men to help prepare the small village for winter?” Annis asked as they walked. “If not, I fear the older ones will not survive, especially Seward.”

“When my father arrives here, I will make sure he understands the urgency,” Brogan said with a strong conviction that left no doubt he would see it done.

Annis did not hold as much hope as Brogan. “Yet he has ignored the small group all these years. Why now would it make any difference to him?”

Brogan grinned. “You underestimate my talent to persuade.”

“I hope you are better at it with your father than you have been with me, or it is doomed to fail.” Annis hid her laugh beneath her breath.

“You are a challenge, leannan, but I love a challenge.”

Love.

Annis had not given much thought to love. At most, it had seemed an inconvenience to her. Something that was not necessary to her life. She had known herself to be a determined lass since she had been young, though some would call it willful. How did she ever accomplish what she hoped, dreamed to accomplish if she wasn’t willful? No one would pay heed to her ideas concerning building. Not so, Brogan. He actually encouraged her. To have a husband who encouraged her passion to construct, would be something she never thought possible and was possibly the reason marriage never appealed to her. She did not want a husband who discouraged or forbid her propensity for designing and building all forms of structures, large or small.

“Do you wish to find love?” she asked.

“Is it that we wish to find love or is it that we wish to be loved?” Brogan asked.

Annis stopped briefly for a moment. “I never thought of it that way. Do you wish to be loved?”

“It would take an extraordinarily brave woman to love me.”

“That is not what I asked, Brogan. Do you wish to be loved?” she asked again.

Brogan threw her question back at her. “What of you? Do you wish to be loved?”

She chuckled. “Does my question frighten you so much that you evade it?”

“Answer me, mo ghràdh, and I will answer you,” he challenged.

“I can do that since I do not fear the question. I have never given much thought to love, probably because I have been well-loved by my sisters. And if I were to wed, I would prefer a man who accepted me for the determined woman I am. But I suddenly find myself wondering if perhaps love would make a marriage more worthwhile. To have a man who gave his heart to me, cherished me, protected me—even though I do not shy away from protecting myself—would be a good foundation for a marriage. It would be like constructing a sturdy building. Without a strong foundation, a building would eventually collapse. Love just might be the firm foundation that is needed for a good marriage.” She smiled and poked him. “Your turn.”