Campbell led her across the room and nudged his chin toward the settee before sitting down next to her. “Perhaps I can assist ye in doing so?”
“I am not sure you would care to hear what I have to say.”
“Try me.”
With trembling hands, Sarina twisted the ribbon that dangled from her waist, its pink hue one shade lighter than the color of her gown. “I saw myself as a wolf in search of my wife and my newborn child.”
“Interesting. Go on.”
Clamming up would have been the better, more appropriate action, but something in the warmth of Campbell’s hazel-eyed gaze prodded her to continue. “My child was alive, but my wife, dead. Then I too, died, thanks to the attack by a small army of Romans.”
Campbell just sat there, silent, his gaze lingering on her face. He was probably trying to decide the safest way to evict an insane woman and her annoying little brother.
“Incredible,” he finally whispered.
“You find my dream incredible?”
“No. I find ye incredible.”
“I assure you, my lord, I was not lying.”
Campbell’s lips edged up into a soft, welcoming smile. “I ken ye were nae lying.”
“You do?”
“Absolutely.”
“How so?”
He leaned close. “Because that dream, my sweet, tempting, Sarina, is the story of my heritage. And no one outside the MacHendrie bloodline or outside those closely associated with my family, knows the tale or would dare retell it as it is highly guarded.”
“I see.” She didn’t. At least, not completely, but with Campbell sitting so close to her, sorting out such details were near impossible.
A hint of lime tinged with spice, danced under her nose.
In all her four-and-twenty years, never had she smelled a scent so pleasing, yet so sinful. “Campbell?”
He closed the space between them, then lowered his head to her neck and brushed his lips against her skin. “Yes?”
Heat licked her flesh. “Do you think me insane?”
“Absolutely nae.” Campbell’s deep, husky voice vibrated against Sarina’s neck.
She reached out and ran her fingers through his hair, the amber streaks of his light brown locks appearing gold in the sunlight. She tilted her head to offer him more of her neck. Who would have imagined a man so accepting of her could exist in Dundaire? Or anywhere else in the world, for that matter, but Campbell MacHendrie did indeed exist. In the flesh. In the here and now. And he was doing the most exquisite things to her, kissing her, touching her, igniting her every inch with the most exhilarating sensations she hadn’t even known she could feel.
The soft caress of Campbell’s fingers dipped below the neckline of her gown.
Better judgement would have her pulling away, but with no future to look forward to, no proper match to make, she did not care to follow propriety. She’d spent her whole life being modest and good. And where had that gotten her? To a cursed estate in the Highlands of Scotland with barely a penny to her name. Propriety be dashed.
With a gasp, Campbell pulled away.
The sudden loss of the heat of his body jolted Sarina back to reality. Warmth flooded her cheeks.
“Forgive me,” Campbell said. “I completely lost myself and I had nae right.”
“How long has it been since you’ve had a woman?” Where the hell her boldness came from, she hadn’t the slightest of notions.
“Excuse me?” A veil of shock crossed Campbell’s handsome face.
She skimmed her hand over his arm. “I only meant that while I am here, finishing up the expedition, perhaps we could come to some sort of agreement?”
“Ye think me that much of a cad?”
Sarina covered her eyes with her hand. “Of course not. It’s just…well…I am four-and-twenty, have an education that was solely concentrated on the macabre, and…and I am attracted to you.” She dropped her hand from her face but didn’t dare look at Campbell. “I am also not entirely naïve. At least not in my reading habits. I am well aware there are methods that can satisfy a man and a woman and not bring forth a child. That, and I know about the MacHendrie mating rituals. My father wrote about it in one of his letters. To me, you smell of citrus and spice.”
Now that earned her the marquis’s full attention. “Good, God woman, why did ye not tell me this the moment we met?”
“Because I thought you would think I was insane.”
“Sanity is the least of my worries where ye are concerned. God kens I havenae been sane in years.”