Gabrielle almost laughed. How could he think such a thing? Her fingers rested limply in her cold, wet lap; she twisted them nervously together. "You know I do. It's just that... truth to tell, m'lord, I'm not entirely sure that you want me."
Connor cocked one dark eyebrow, his gaze leaving hers only long enough to shift briefly down to the part of his anatomy that gave hard, vibrant proof that he did indeed want her. So badly he ached from it. "Does it look like I dinny want ye, Gabby?"
Her attention shadowed his, and her blush deepened to a hotter shade of pink. "Well, no, but—"
"No 'buts' aboot it. I want ye, Gabby, and not for the reason ye think. Aye, I'll not lie and say I dinny want an heir, several of them in fact, because I do. Howe'er, if ye said ye dinny want to carry me bairns, 'twould not change the way I feel for you. I'd still be wanting to lay ye back against the cool, sweet grass, strip ye bare, and make love to ye until neither of us could think straight."
She didn't want to ask.
She had to ask, had to know.
The uncertainty of his motives was gnawing at her insides, creating doubts where, perhaps, there should be none. "Why?"
Connor's fingers left the buttons at her back. His hands shifted, his open palms gently cradling her cheeks. His expression didn't blanch, nor did his gaze waver as, without missing a beat, he replied, "Because I love ye, Gabrielle Carelton. Why else?"
The sincerity with which he uttered the words made her spirits soar higher than the eagle that circled the sky above. She was torn between a strong sense of disbelief and an even stronger sense of unadulterated joy. Had she misheard? Had he really said he loved her? Dare she hope it was true? "But how can you? I'm not beautiful. I'm not—"
"Ye are to me," he corrected her firmly. "Ye're maun than beautiful. 'Tis all that matters, dinny ye ken?"
Gabrielle blinked hard, her senses spinning. The Black Douglas loved her? He thought her beautiful? Had she really drowned when he'd pulled her into the water? Died and gone to heaven? She thought she might have, for never in life had she known such elation.
"I'm not dreaming, am I?"
"Nay, lass."
"And you really do mean it, don't you?" Her voice was edged with disbelief.
Connor nodded, the gesture making his dark hair sway wetly against his shoulders. "I do. It may take me a lifetime to prove it to ye, but... Och! lass, I've ne'er meant anything so maun in me life. Why do ye think I finally relented
and tried to end the feud between Douglas and Maxwell? Do ye think I'd do that for anyone else but ye? Nay, I would not have. But ye were the one who asked it of me and, try though I do, I cannot deny ye anything, e'en that."
Gabrielle unlinked the fingers clenched tightly in her lap and, his words filling her with a heady burst of confidence and boldness, splayed her open palms against his naked chest.
He felt hot and damp to the touch.
He felt oh so very wonderful.
The smile she bestowed upon him was so radiant that at first Connor was too entranced by the sight of it to realize she was speaking. Even once he did realize it, her words did not register in his mind and he was forced to ask her to repeat them.
"I simply pointed out that there's another feud in need of settling, m'lord."
"There is?" he asked, dazed by both her touch and the intense desire it aroused within him.
"Aye. The one between you and your twin."
Gabrielle's hands were not content to remain still. She began stroking restless, distracting circles over his hard-muscled chest and belly, his shoulders and arms. He groaned when her water-wrinkled palms left a blazing trail of molten fire in their wake.
"Later, Gabby," he said throatily, his mouth dipping with slow intent toward hers. "We'll discuss it maun, maun later."
His mouth carried through its promise and was on hers, his tongue urging her lips apart. His kiss was ravenous; it obliterated all thoughts of family and feuds and weddings from her mind.
Connor's arms stole around her, holding her impossibly close, and Gabrielle decided abruptly that later would suit her just fine. There was no rush... now that she knew there would be a later.
A lifetime of laters.
She looked forward to each and every one.
The End