Too Scot to Hold (The Hots for Scots #8) - Caroline Lee Page 0,48

Vina frowned down at her grandfather. “Nay, I dinnae.”

“Graeme,” the laird whispered. Then he took a deep breath and looked up, meeting Graham’s eyes for the first time. “They named my first great-grandchild, the future laird of the Oliphants, after ye.”

Did he expect shock? Surprise? Gratitude? Aye, Graham had been all those things when Kiergan had told him of their decision to name the wee bairn after him, and he’d been flattered. But MacKinnon didn’t need to know that.

So Graham just inclined his head smoothly, acknowledging the truth.

MacKinnon took a deep breath. “The last thing ye said to me, yesterday, before rushing off to help with the birth of Malcolm’s bairn…do ye remember what ‘twas? Ye said ye’d always run to help others.”

Aye, he’d been angry and frustrated at the stubborn old man, and Graham had said something like that as he’d rushed off, hadn’t he? Was he expected to apologize?

‘Twill be a warm day in the Hebrides afore I do that!

MacKinnon’s expression softened, and he shook his head. “That is a different kind of bravery than I am used to,” he sighed, “but bravery all the same. I cannae deny that.”

An apology, a thanks, and now…a compliment?

Graham almost frowned in surprise.

Then MacKinnon reached over and took Davina’s hand, while holding Graham’s gaze.

“Ye are a man of medicine, a caring man. But ye are strong and brave and willing to do whatever it takes to help people.” He touched his free hand to his chin, where the bandages covered his burn wounds. “Even people who ye might have cause to wish ill upon.”

Likely best to just keep silent on that one, lad.

When he saw he wasn’t going to get an answer—a denial or agreement—one side of MacKinnon’s lips curled up into a wry smile.

“Fair enough. But I want ye to ken that I have changed my mind. I would be honored if ye’d consider becoming the next Laird MacKinnon.”

‘Twas Vina’s happy gasp which told Graham he wasn’t imagining the words, wasn’t misinterpreting the offer.

An apology, a thanks, a compliment, and now…a blessing.

Slowly, Graham dropped his hands to his side and inclined his head. “Thank ye, milord,” he managed gruffly, past a throat thick with joy.

When he lifted his gaze, he saw Davina’s beautiful blue one shining with tears, and knew his own excitement was reflected there. In two strides, he stood before her, and she’d dropped her grandfather’s hand to wipe at the wetness on her cheeks.

Pushing away her hands, he took over the task, using the pads of his thumbs to caress her skin, wipe away the traces of her tears. Then he cupped her cheeks in his palms.

“Davina, ye’ve always kenned ye’d be the next Lady MacKinnon,” he began in a gruff voice. “St. Luke himself kens I’ve never aspired to aught so lofty, but…” He took the time to just breathe, to savor this moment, to savor the look of love in her gaze. “Now that Kiergan will be the next Oliphant Laird, it seems yer husband will be the MacKinnon. I dinnae need lairdship, but I think I’d be a good leader for yer clan.”

“Our clan,” she gently corrected him.

“Our clan,” he agreed, knowing he’d be stronger for having her at his side, ready to help him lead. “I love ye, Davina. I always have. And I’ll do aught to call ye mine for all eternity.”

Under his hands, her lips twitched into a wry smile. “Even if it means becoming laird, moving to Mull, and spending yer life doctoring only MacKinnons?”

I’ll always run to help others.

“I’ll help whoever needs it, but aye. Aye.” His lips curled upward. “Even then. Davina MacKinnon, will ye marry me?”

Her gaze had turned to a look of wonder as she studied his expression, and she lifted her fingertips to brush against his lips, as if surprised by his smile. “I will,” she whispered.

And this time, his lips pulled into a real smile. A smile which showed all the love in his heart, and his hope for their future. “I love ye.”

“And I love ye, Graham. Marry me soon please. Make me yers.”

Regardless of her grandfather sitting nearby, Graham couldn’t resist pulling her into a deep kiss, and when she wrapped her arms around his neck, he knew all of his patience and beliefs had come to fruition.

He’d be marrying Davina. He’d stand beside her, helping the MacKinnons. And he’d finally have a home.

Because she’ll be mine.

‘Twas a simple wedding, which suited Davina just fine.

When she was a child, she’d known the