The Highland Laird (Lords of the Highlands #8) - Amy Jarecki Page 0,55
have the gist of it as of yet. Here I was champing at the bit thinking of all the fantastical things you might wish for. You could have been far more creative.”
“What would you suggest?”
“Perhaps a new fleet of sea galleys or a magical sword that never needs sharpening.” She looked away. Or a bonny wife who will love you forever.
“But I asked for things that are important to me. Did I satisfy the commander’s wishes, or must I pay a forfeit?”
“Nay, I believe your last two wishes could have been far more astounding. You must do better at surprising me. I am afraid you’ll have to pay a forfeit…but not one too dastardly, since you are new to the game.” Emma swayed in place as if she were playing a cheery folk tune. “You must kiss Albert on his belly, and I want descriptive details of every step.”
The dog’s toenails tapped across the stone floor when he heard his name mentioned.
“His belly, aye?”
“Mm hmm.”
“I suppose a kiss is better than having my face marked with charcoal.” Ciar grumbled something not even Emma could hear, and then added, “Come, ye overgrown urchin.”
Albert moved between them.
“Put your paws up here.” Ciar thumped his chest. “I’ve taken hold of the dog’s arms. Now I’m diving for his underbelly. Mmmwa, ye hairy beasty!”
Albert yowled and shook, his tail slapping Emma’s knee.
Emma clapped then scrubbed her knuckles through the dog’s fur. “It seems the laddie enjoyed the attention.”
“Aye.” Ciar pounded the table with three quick raps. “Now I’m the commander, am I not?”
“You are.” She sipped again, letting the fruitiness of the wine tantalize her tongue. “Give me your worst.”
“Very well.” His voice turned serious, and then he hesitated. “If your eyes were opened, what is the first thing you would want to see?”
Emma’s breath seized in her throat. Oh, Lord in heaven, did he not know how often she’d prayed for the gift of sight, if only for a day? She would rush outside and take in all the colors from the grass to the sky to the flowers.
Ciar sat very still. He expected an answer. And though she wanted to experience everything, from nature to the colors of silks and fire, there was one thing she desired to see most of all.
“You,” she blurted as her face burned. Clapping her hands over her cheeks, she was absolutely certain her blush had nothing to do with the wine. Had she really spoken such a shameless thing aloud? Goodness, if she kept flirting with him, he might make her stay in one of the ruined, dank vaults.
The rough pads of his fingers swept across her hand. “Och, I’m not a handsome man, lass. You may not like what you see.”
“To me you’re handsome. You’re beautiful. And Betty says by the girth of your shoulders Robert was smart to make you an ally of Clan Grant.”
“Betty? What remarks has your lady’s maid uttered about me?”
Emma’s head swam with hundreds of responses, most of them unutterable. “Um…you’re rough-hewn but robust.” And such a man attracts me like no other.
“And you? Are you of the same mind?”
“I told you I was.” Before she thought better of it, Emma leaned forward and placed her hands on his cheeks. With a sharp inhale, he stiffened and grabbed her wrists. Cringing, she drew away. “Apologies. I should have asked permission first.”
“The err is mine. I wasn’t expecting you to ‘see’ me at the moment.” His grip eased as he drew her fingers back to his beard. “I must ask Livingstone to bring a razor.”
“The hair feels softer than a few days ago. And so thick. I’d wager it makes you look fiercer than before.” She couldn’t help but explore more. “You have a prominent nose, but I think it suits the ridges of your cheeks.”
Ciar closed his eyes as she moved upward, the lashes tickling her fingers. His brow was broad and framed by a great deal of hair, soft, but masculine.
“It is decided. You are inarguably handsome, and there is nothing you can say to change my mind.” She forced herself to draw away, lest she let the wine take over her sensibilities and kiss him, which she absolutely must not do. “The first thing I want to set eyes on is you. And that was not an easy question to answer, mind you. You could have laughed in my face or, worse, ridiculed me. Therefore, I will not be smutted, no, no, no.”