Johanna Lindsay - The Heir

"Be quiet and let me finish," he admonished gently. "I dinna mean his intentions. Those were fine and noble. I mean he was wrong in what he thought. I did indeed tell him a while back that we were only friends, and it was the truth at the time. I felt a closeness tae you that I've ne'er experienced afore wi' any other, and truthfully, lass, I didna think o' you any other way until Archie tried tae convince me that men and women canna be friends, that sex will get in the way o' it. Dinna be blushing now. There's nae polite way tae explain this. It was after he had that talk wi' me that I started seeing you as more'n just a friend, as the bonny lass you are. You can blame Archie if you like, but I'm no' blaming anyone for what I feel for you now. It's no' what it was, lass."

This was more painful than she could possibly have imagined it would be, because she wanted to believe him so much—but couldn't. Archie had been right, Duncan just wanted her near to hand, and this was the only way he thought he could accomplish it. And he'd just said it himself, that he'd felt a closeness to her that he'd never experienced before. She was his best friend, but because she was a woman, he was trying to call it something else.

She turned away from him to face the fire. "It is what it was," she said sadly. "You've just come to realize that I'm not as accessible as you'd like, that you can't visit me anytime you want, that you can't wake me in the middle of the night to share your thoughts, that you—"

His chuckle cut off her words, and her gasp as well, as he wrapped his arms around her from behind. "And what is this, if no' the middle o' the night?"

"You know what I meant. You can't be climbing trees every night. And you'd have the neighbors gossiping about us if you tried to see me as often as you want. But then you know that, which is why—"

His arms squeezed her to silence this time. "You're a stubborn lass, so I'm going tae speak plainly. Every time I see you now, I want tae drag you into my arms and make love tae you. D'you really think that that has anything tae do wi' friendship? I'm fighting wi' m'self right now no' tae kiss you. Brina, I love the fact that we were friends first, and I love thinking that we always will be, but I have tae be more'n that tae you now. I want tae be your lover, your protector, your provider, and your friend, but I canna be all o' that unless you'll marry me."

"You're killing me," she choked out.

He swung her around. "Look at me! Do I look like a man who doesna know his own mind? And if you tell me nae, I swear I'll cart you off tae the Highlands and live wi' you in sin. After nine or ten bairns, then you can tell me I dinna love you like I know I do."

"I meant I couldn't breathe."

"Oh," he said, but he caught the twinkle in her lavender eyes and laughed as he drew her back into his arms. "You believe me now."

He wasn't asking, nor did she need to confirm it, though she did say, "Any man who would want that many babies from me must love me."

"It hurts how much, lass."

She cupped his face in her hands, leaned up to kiss him softly. "No, it only hurts when you can't share it. We're going to share it now, Duncan."

"Then I hope you'll be understanding that I canna fight this any longer."

"This" was kissing her, and no soft pecks for him. His mouth took hers voraciously, the culmination of untold frustrations, the release of the hopelessness they'd both experienced too much of. Passion exploded between them instantly, but it was mixed with so much joy and relief, it was more a unique emotion, theirs alone, theirs to share.

Sabrina wanted to laugh in her happiness, but didn't want to stop kissing him long enough to do so. He must have felt the same, for his lips formed an uncontainable smile even as they seared hers.

They dropped to their knees together on the rug before the fire, still kissing, hands still grasping. The bed, only steps away, was too far for the kind of urgency upon them. Undressing, even, wouldn't part their lips. Not surprisingly, a few buttons went flying along with their clothes, into different parts of the room.

The heat from the fireplace, the heat from their bare skin, the soft fur on the rug in sensual contrast, all were conducive to quick repletion, yet Duncan still delayed. The first time they had made love had been in utter darkness. There was ample light now, and he wouldn't have been normal if he didn't want to feast with his eyes, as well as his hands and mouth, on the woman he loved.

"I'm glad this beauty has been so well hidden, lass. Had other men possibly guessed, they would've been lining up wi' proposals."

She blushed, yet it was a most pleasant embarrassment. She had always thought herself a bit too plump, even if in the right places, but his eyes told her he found her luscious curves rather perfect. His hands did as well, kneading, caressing, gripping when the passion flared to near unbearable heights, soothing as he tried to prolong the exquisite moment. All the while his mouth ravished, sucking at her breasts, her lips, her neck, her earlobes.

They were both still on their knees, so it was a surprise when her own left the floor as he grasped her hips and dragged her up against his hardness, a surprise and sensual delight. But that wasn't his only intent, she found, as one at a time he wrapped her legs around his hips, and she realized in amazement that he was going to make love to her like that as he slowly entered her.

She held on to him tightly with her arms and legs, though it wasn't necessary, he had complete control of her weight, holding her to him, his hands gripping her cheeks and directing her own movements. He controlled the pace as well, and the depth, slow, hard, yet not deep enough, teasing. Not until he knew she was about to climax did he impale her fully, so deeply it wrenched a scream of pleasure from her that thankfully was muffled by his mouth.

She was smiling, afterward, when he finally lay down on the rug and gathered her close. "I didn't exactly mean that kind of sharing, you know."

He chuckled. "I know."

His hands were still caressing her softly, possessively. She still wasn't the least bit tired, but was now glad of that. She would be most happy, in fact, to snuggle there with him all night.

After a moment more, though, she sniffed the air and said, "You might want to remove your shoes from the fireplace, especially if you're still wearing them."

His first reaction was to burst out laughing, and he did. Her remark, out of the blue and so casually spoken, was just too bizarre. But then he also smelled what she did, leather burning, and sat up immediately.

"I'm no' wearing them, but I suppose I will need them tae get home." He made a sour face as he rescued the smoldering shoe that had managed to fall too close to the fire. "We'll be married t'morrow, so I can be removing m'shoes properly for bed. Neville has a special license for it, so there's nae reason tae delay."

"No," she said.

"No?" he roared, and pounced on her, pinning her flat on the rug, thinking he had more convincing to do.

"No," she repeated, smiling up at him. "We're going to let my aunts arrange this wedding. They've planned it for years and years. I'm not going to deny them their day, and lording it over their friends, what a fine catch I made."

"Oh," he replied, contrite, but then, "How long will this arranging take?" "Two or three weeks at the very least."

He groaned. "Could we no' sneak off tae Gretna Green for a quick wedding, then come back and have another?"

"No, that wouldn't be the same, but I'll arrange for some roof work to be done on the house." "Och, I'm afraid tae question that, but what the devil do roofs have tae do wi' weddings?" "Not much, but it will leave a ladder handy outside my window until we actually do get married." He gave her a very beautiful smile. "You'll be protecting m'shoes then?" "Oh, absolutely. I might even keep my room quite chilly, just for you."

He chuckled. "You're joking, but you'll ne'er need a fire when I'm around, lass, I promise you." "I wasn't joking," she corrected him. "I was counting on you keeping me warm."

The next weeks dragged by slowly for Duncan, though they weren't unpleasant since he spent many of the days with Sabrina. It was simply his impatience to have her for his wife before something went wrong again to prevent it. Not an unreasonable worry, and nothing at all to do with his lady.

She had assured him that she loved him, even that she had realized it much sooner than he did, and he had no doubts there, just his own amazement that he'd been blind not to see it sooner. They had just had so many obstacles thrown in their path that he wouldn't be able to relax fully until the wedding was an accomplished fact.

It was amusing, though, sitting back and watching the bickering that went on between her aunts and his grandfathers, who each had his or her own ideas on how this grand wedding was to proceed. And it was particularly amusing that the aunts won out in the end on every single disagreement—accept those the two ladies had with each other.

The wedding ceremony was going to take place in Summers Glade, because it really was the only place in the area big enough to accommodate the guest list, which included the entire village of Oxbow. Neville nearly collapsed, for real this time, when he heard that every one of the neighbors he'd managed quite nicely to ignore all these years was going to be invading his house.

He had protested long and loud, but with Archie feeling "the more the merrier and so not supporting him in this, Neville was quite outnumbered. He might have turned his house over for the ceremony, but that was about the extent of his say-so in anything else having to do with the wedding.