The Highlander's Defiant Captive (The Lairds Most Likely 4) - Page 71

Her gaze softened until he drowned in the rich blue of her eyes. Even in his wildest dreams – and he'd had a few of those, God forgive him – he'd never imagined that he’d see that melting surrender in her expression.

"Oh…"

Callum couldn't resist stealing another kiss. This one swiftly turned ardent and arousing. He had difficulty drawing back. Even with her arm in a sling, he could manage to claim her if he was careful, but he refused to tumble his bride on a rough hillside. She deserved every honor.

Still, when he heard her disappointed sigh, temptation damn near undid all his good intentions. He framed her face between his hands. He'd never tire of looking at her. Aye, she was bonny. Bonny enough to break a man's heart. But what made him love her was that bright spirit in her eyes and the character in her features.

Callum wanted a strong woman to stand firm at his side through all the joys and tribulations life threw at him. The miracle was he'd found one.

"What?" she asked softly.

He smiled in sheer delight. "I'm just thinking what a braw lady of Achnasheen you'll make."

"As long as I'm the lady of your heart, that's enough."

How could he resist? He kissed her again. "Och, you’re that until the day I die, lassie."

"Mackinnon…"

"Let me take ye home to Achnasheen. If you keep looking at me like that, ye won't come to your wedding a virgin."

Her lashes fluttered down, and her voice emerged in an embarrassed mutter. "I…I wouldnae mind if ye want to…"

His soft laugh was rich with love. "Och, lassie, ye merit better than that. And I havenae always been as careful with your good name as I should have been. I want everyone in Achnasheen to know you’re as pure as the lily."

Amusement lit her eyes. "Ye were so furious when I threw that wine over ye."

"Och, I was half mad already with wanting ye. And knowing that I'd started my wooing in the worst possible way, I was at a loss as to how I could come back from that and find favor with ye. Yet with every moment I spent with ye, I loved ye more."

One day, perhaps he'd accept that glow in her eyes as his due, but not today.

"Ye know, if ye hadnae seized me that day in the meadow, we'd never have met. I'd have ended up marrying John."

"Would that have been so bad?"

It was her turn to laugh. "Och, now you're chasing compliments, laddie?"

"After all the dreadful things you've said to me, can ye blame me?"

"Ye deserved most of them."

He smiled down at her. "Ye have a point."

Her gaze dropped to where their hands lay linked in her lap, and her voice turned serious. "Even when I hated ye, I felt something."

"The urge to commit murder."

Mhairi looked up. "Aye, I cannae lie. That was there. At least at first."

"Ye certainly made your mark, my bonny. I still bear the scar of your knife, and my ears have just stopped ringing from my head’s collision with the peat bucket. I soon knew I needed to treat ye with the respect you deserve. But you were such a surprise. I'd expected a lassie who'd come round to my will without too much trouble."

"Even then, something in me recognized that I'd met my match."

His wayward heart missed a beat. "Yet still ye fought me."

"Aye, but I fought myself, too."

"I'm glad ye lost," he murmured.

Tags: Anna Campbell The Lairds Most Likely Historical
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