Highlander Most Wanted Page 0,73

Ian had taken her and turned her life into a living hell.

Bowen was determined to give her all she’d never had, and so he set about courting her.

Teague and Brodie despaired of him. Teague routinely made Bowen the butt of his jests, and both men threatened to throw him into the river if he continued on his present course.

Bowen took it all in stride. Never before would he have tolerated the teasing and taunting, but he found he cared not. The way Genevieve’s face lit up when he complimented her made every taunt well worth it.

He did, however, keep the verse that he’d memorized a strict secret. He felt uncomfortable enough whispering the words to Genevieve under the softness of moonlight, but when she looked at him, her eyes shining like twin suns, all discomfort disappeared.

In that moment he wouldn’t have cared if the whole of the keep heard his recitation. The look on Genevieve’s face was an image he’d long carry with him and treasure.

They walked slowly under the glow of the moon, the rays bouncing off the surface of the gurgling river. He laced his fingers through hers, enjoying something as simple as holding her hand.

His past associations with women shamed him. He didn’t discuss such with Genevieve. They both bore shame, but for different reasons. Genevieve’s had been forced upon her. But Bowen’s had been solely of his own choosing.

He’d embraced his liaisons with women. He’d enjoyed loving. And what man didn’t like a good tup? He and Teague used to tease Graeme for his monkish ways, but Bowen thought now that Graeme had the right of it for being more discerning in his bed partners.

Graeme had come to Eveline without having bedded every lass in the vicinity. Bowen certainly couldn’t say the same, and just thinking on it made him wince.

What would Genevieve think if she knew of the casual way in which he’d divested lasses of their skirts? Would her opinion of him change? How could it not?

It wasn’t that he didn’t have great love for women. Indeed, it was the opposite. But now he wondered at the lack of respect he’d shown them. It pained him to be lumped in the same category as Ian McHugh. While he’d certainly never forced himself on any woman, could he say he hadn’t made them his whore?

He couldn’t even think on it any longer, because he did not like the potential results.

Genevieve had fundamentally changed him. Maybe from the moment he’d laid eyes on her, but certainly the moment he’d heard her story and knew of her pain and her bravery.

He wanted to be a better man for her. He wanted to be someone worthy of her.

He wanted her to love him.

“What are you thinking on?” she asked softly.

He blinked in surprise and lowered his gaze to hers. Many days had passed since her attack and the night she’d spent in his arms, and each day he’d carefully wooed her, gaining her trust. And it hadn’t been easy, because he’d vowed not to make her the brunt of clan gossip, and so every effort had been made in secret and it was taking a toll on them both.

What should be something wondrous was stressful, as they sought to hide from the prying eyes of others. But still, he looked forward to every stolen moment. Every opportunity to steal away and spend time in Genevieve’s presence.

Never had he displayed so much patience and forethought with another woman. He was determined to win Genevieve’s heart, no matter how long it took.

“You looked so deep in thought. I wondered what caused you to be so pensive.”

Bowen smiled. “I was only thinking that ’tis a beautiful night made only more beautiful by the woman who walks beside me.”

’Twas obvious she blushed, even in the glow cast by the moon. It was in her mannerisms, the way her gaze skittered sideways and she ducked her head in that shy way.

But he also saw her smile. It was a sight that never failed to tighten his chest. It had never been brought home to him the fact that she never smiled until finally she did. And now he sought to make her do so at every opportunity, because it was a sight he savored.

“You’ve a silver tongue, Bowen Montgomery,” she said, her teeth flashing with her smile. “A silver-tongued devil, you are.”

“I’d prefer to use my tongue for other purposes,” he murmured.

She paused, turning to face him as they topped the rise overlooking

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