Page 72 of Claimed By a Savage Scot
“Och, Malcolm, that’s wonderful news!” she cried, thrilled for him. Every instinct in her wanted to hug him, but she dared not for fear of what it might lead to.
He gave her another devastating smile. “Well, I cannae claim all the credit. I have ye tae thank fer keepin’ Sorcha entertained while me and Kenneth thrashed it out.”
She laughed softly. “Och, that part was easy. Sorcha and I get on very well.”
“Aye, she seemed tae enjoy yer company immensely.” He paused before adding more darkly, “As did Kenneth.”
“Still jealous?” she teased. He answered her with a sizzling gaze which made her feel even hotter. “Well, I’m very pleased fer ye,” she said, striving for control. “I ken how much this agreement matters tae ye.”
He nodded with satisfaction. “Aye, the coffers will fill, and the clansfolk willnae havetae struggle tae feed themselves through the harsh winters from now on.”
Catriona smiled, her heart aching with a tenderness it was hard not to express in touch. “Och, ye care so much fer yer clan, ye make me proud.”
His gaze drifted downward to the large, leather-bound volume in her hand. “Auld Mackie’s Scottish Highland Histories,” he read aloud, his smile expanding. “One of yer favorites, I believe.”
“Aye, but how d’ye ken that?” she asked curiously.
Malcolm barked a quiet laugh. “How dae I ken? Because, lass, I was the one who showed it tae ye in the first place. I used tae spend hours readin’ tae ye from it.”
She blinked. Then a memory suddenly burst upon her, of Malcolm sprawled lazily beneath an oak tree during some long-ago gathering between clans, patiently turning pages while she sat beside him, utterly captivated by stories of selkies, warriors, and Highland ghosts.
Warmth filled her. “So ye did. I’d forgotten.”
“I havenae.”
Their eyes held, the air between them thick enough to cut with a knife. They moved closer, neither seeming capable of resisting the pull, until they were virtually toe to toe.
“’Tis difficult, Cat,” Malcolm said quietly, tension rolling off him along with the warmth of his body, which was seeping into hers.
Her pulse fluttered madly, her cheeks burning. “What is?” she asked, her voice a breathy whisper.
“Bein’ in the same room with ye.”
The honesty in his voice made her breath catch.
“But I must keep me distance while Duncan’s here,” he continued, his jaw tightening with determination as he looked down at her.
She stepped closer, deliberately teasing him. “Is that why ye can scarcely look at me?”
Malcolm inhaled sharply, and when she put a palm against his chest, she gasped aloud as he caught her suddenly against him, his arm a steel cage around her, one hand tangling fiercely into her hair.
The book fell from her fingers, thumping dully to the rug as his mouth crushed against hers, his kiss desperate, hungry, full of pent-up passion.
It hit her like fire, heat exploding through her body instantly. She clutched his shoulders, opening her lips beneath his, kissing him back helplessly as restraint crumbled like a broken dam.
Then, just as abruptly, Malcolm tore himself away, leaving them both breathing hard. He held her upper arms and moved her away before releasing her.
“We cannae dae this now, Cat,” he rasped, sending disappointment burning through her. “If Duncan walks through that door before I’ve spoken tae him properly, he’ll kill me where I stand,” he gritted out.
She did not believe it, but she knew he did. “Aye, I ken it,” she murmured, her lips tingling from the kiss.
“Nae until the matter’s settled,” he said hoarsely.
The pain of longing blossomed in her chest as she looked up at him.
“Aye, but please, Malcolm, dinnae leave that conversation too long,” she whispered. “Because I need ye, and I’m nae sure how much longer I can wait.”
The look Malcolm gave her then stole the strength from her knees, so that she fell back against the bookshelves. His expression grim, he stooped and picked up the fallen book, handing it to her as he straightened.
