He did as she said.
“I miss my sisters,” she said, after returning to her seat and casting her eyes to the tabletop. She did not want to see the spoon slide into his mouth and be reminded of yesterday, especially since her lips ached to kiss him. “I miss talking with them.”
He coughed after placing the spoon on the table so she would look up at him. He tapped his lips with his finger, pointed to her, then to himself.
She understood his gestures as if he had spoken aloud. “Aye, I enjoy talking with you, but you visit for only so long. I miss my sisters always being here, always having someone to talk with or simply their presence. Silence does not have to be lonely if you share it with someone.”
Saber savored her words. He had not realized how his self-inflicted solitude had turned into loneliness until he met Elysia. He had begun to understand that forced isolation would not help him, but allowing himself to care for Elysia would do him no good.
Saber snapped his head toward the door and Elysia stood, by now knowing Saber sensed a knock before it came.
She was almost to the door when the knock came and Saber stood close behind her when she opened the door.
“Bram,” Elysia said.
Bran’s glance went to Saber. “As soon as you are done with the big fellow, I am here to take you to the keep. Chieftain Emory wishes to speak with you.”
“About what?” Elysia asked, her stomach roiling, worried he would demand an answer now to who she would take as a husband.
“He did not say and I did not ask, though I gladly obeyed his order to fetch you. And I would hurry if I were you. The sky looks ready to unleash a storm and light raindrops already fall.”
His glance at the sky had Elysia glancing up as well and the dark clouds did not look promising. The gloom of the impending storm would only grow worse since it would force her to spend the rest of the day alone in the cottage. At least, though, she would not be bothered by Bram, Tavish, or Rory—hopefully.
“I will not be long,” Elysia said and closed the door and turned to Saber. The concern she saw in his eyes touched her heart. “I will see you tomorrow.”
He nodded and stood staring down at her.
Something in his eyes held her captive. She did not move, did not want to move. A heaviness settled in her chest, almost as if their breath was one and if they separated one would not survive without the other. A foolish notion, but yet a strong one.
His hand went to her face, his thumb skimming her lips.
She responded without thought, her lips parting slightly and he groaned just before his lips came down to claim hers. His arm shot around her waist and lifted her effortlessly off the ground to bring her up to his height and her arms went around his neck, holding tight.
This was what she had wanted since they entered the cottage, his lips on hers. The berry syrup lingered there just as it had with their first kiss, but this time there was no uncertainty, no waiting. Their mouths opened without any coaxing and their kiss deepened and demanded and they both surrendered to it.
A crack of thunder ended their kiss before it truly could get started, though they continued to cling to each other, Elysia resting her brow against his.
It took every ounce of sound reasoning that Saber had to place Elysia on her feet and let her go when he ached to continue kissing her. But that would prove dangerous, since kissing her was not the only thing he wanted to do.
Elysia thought to say something, though words failed her and when Saber grabbed her cloak from the peg, draped it around her, and reached to open the door, she knew no words would be exchanged between them.
Saber followed her out, gave her a nod, and said, “Tomorrow.”
She did not watch him walk off. She feared showing any interest in Saber in front of Bram.
“His voice doing better?” Bram asked as they made their way to the keep.
“It is improving every day,” she said with a forced cheerfulness and hurried to change the conversation. “You have no idea why Chieftain Emory summons me?”
“Nay, though he did not look too happy when he ordered me to fetch you,” Bram admitted. “But now that I have you to myself for a bit, tell me if I lead in your choice of a husband.”
Elysia eagerly told him of Tavish’s proposition.
Bram laughed. “And you believed him?”
“So Tavish is not to be trusted?”
He laughed again. “What man is or what woman for that matter is to be trusted? People do what is best for them, nothing more.”