A Lass to Love (Brides of Scotland #1) - Tammy Andresen Page 0,19
They’ll be no more late-night meetings.”
Her breath caught in her chest. “Meetings?”
“And just so ye ken, Tom plans to court ye.”
Her entire body pulsed with surprise. “Court me? But he doesn’t intend to marry. He—”
“He didn’t. I think he’s changed his mind.” Colin relaxed, a grin spreading across his face. “And just so ye ken, that was his idea not mine. I ken ye don’t want another unwilling groom.” Colin reached out and touched her arm. “Ye can choose to accept his courtship or not. I suppose I wouldn’t blame ye if ye’d been scared off marriage. I ken I have.”
Fiona winced. Colin had been engaged a few years prior and likely still hurt from the experience. “I’m not. But I did miss all the fun other girls my age got to have.”
Colin nodded. “I understand that. But ye need to understand that Edna and I both have to suffer the consequences of whatever ye choose to do. Choose wisely.”
Her stomach dropped. Colin was right. Despite her need to have fun, she had to keep her family’s best interests in mind. “What do ye think I should do then? Marry Callum?”
“Of course not. That complete pile of bullocks doesn’t deserve ye. But do think about Tom. He’s a good man even if Edna doesn’t like him.”
Fiona cocked her head to the side. “Are ye meddling, Colin MacFarland?”
He dropped his chin to hide his grin. “Maybe I am.”
She leaned in then and gave her cousin a hug. “I’m glad we talked and I think I ken what to do.”
Tom shrugged off his wet coat and vest, slicking back his hair, the rain having soaked it through.
His body vibrated with untapped energy. Fiona had touched his leg, proposed another clandestine meeting, and given him doe eyes across the table all night. Refusing her had been one of the most difficult things he’d ever had to do.
Then again, he meant to keep his word to Colin and treat Fiona with the respect she deserved. The respect given to a woman who he wished to marry.
He could barely believe he’d thought the words and he repeated them as he shrugged out of his shirt. But Fiona would never hurt him the way others had done, rather, she’d put him back together. He was certain of that.
He straightened as a soft tapping noise broke the steady beat of rain. Then again. Crossing the door, he undid the latch, ready to peek out into the hall. He cracked open the door to see a wet Fiona pressed to the opening. “Can I come in?” she whispered. Rain dripped from her hair and wetted her face and lips.
Bloody hell, he should say no. But with a quick jerk, he opened the door and pulled her inside, then quickly closed it again. He reached over to the bed, grabbed a blanket, and wrapped it about her. “You shouldn’t have come, sweetheart. If Colin catches us…”
“He’ll what?” she asked. “Force us to marry?”
He paused, pulling the blanket down over her hair to dry the strands. “I know how I feel about the idea, how do you?”
Her tongue darted out to lick her lips. “I don’t ken how ye feel.” She stepped a little closer. “Would ye tell me?”
“How do you feel?” he asked, grasping the blanket and pulling her closer.
She drifted closer until she nearly touched him. “I’m here aren’t I?” she said softly.
He chuckled even as he tipped his chin closer. “Ye could be looking for more experience to help woo Exmouth.”
She pressed closer, tipping her chin up to look at him. “I was never going to woo Exmouth. I just wanted an excuse to kiss ye.”
A deep sound of satisfaction bubbled up from his throat. “And when you go to London?”
“I’ll tell him I can’t marry him,” she said, even as he dipped his mouth to capture hers in a soft kiss.
She eagerly pressed her mouth to his. “Then I will tell you I have every intention of making you my wife,” he said.
Her gasp filled his mouth in the most satisfying way, her heather smell wrapping about his senses. He knew why he loved that aroma…she smelled like home.
Chapter Eleven
Fiona never wished to be anywhere but in this man’s arms. His torso was bare and she’d seen the full view of what she’d dreamt of—all the rippling muscles of his chest.
He kissed her again and as he parted her lips and brushed his tongue to hers, she moaned, an ache pulsing between her legs.
Slipping her hand