Page 53 of Hold Fast

“I’m going to tell you whether you want to hear it or nae.”

He saw the moment she armed herself, the moment she donned her shield. She stood taller and her eyes went cold as she glared.

“Say it, m’laird,” she said through clenched teeth.

He stepped closer and lifted his hand to cradle her cheek, swiping a thumb over her tears. She didn’t flinch.

“I think,” he said, pausing for breath, “I think that you are the bravest person I have ever met. I dinnae ken how you survived a monster like him. I dinnae ken how it is that you’re here with me—”

Una sucked in a breath.

“But I dinnae care. Because youarehere with me. And I am sorry. I shouldnae have spoken to you as I did. I have been… worried of late. I cannae have eyes on everyone and everything at once. I wanted to keep you close, to keep you safe. When I heard that you meant to take Gavin’s cottage, I—” He swallowed thickly. “I lost my senses. His cottage is on the outskirts of the village, farthest away. I cannae—” He heaved in a breath. “I cannae promise you safety there. The thought made me half mad.”

“I can take care of myself,” she said quietly, and he remembered first meeting her, her arrow trained on his heart.

“Aye,” he agreed. “You can. You are more than capable of taking care of yourself. You are more than capable of anything you set your mind to.”

Her blue eyes went wide. That lump rose higher in Ewan’s throat, making it difficult to speak at all, and his voice caught. “You’re so brave, Una, and I—”

The thought died when Una launched herself at him, cutting off his words with her mouth pressed against his.

CHAPTER20

Una gripped Ewan’s cheeks between her palms and kissed him. She could taste the saltiness of her own tears, of his sweat. But Ewan’s mouth did not soften, did not kiss her back. She squeezed her eyes shut, filled with the most sudden, horrifying sense of embarrassment.

She dropped her hands and moved to push away when Ewan groaned and banded his arms tightly around her, crushing her to his chest. His hand tangled in the braid at the back of her head, gripping her tightly.

Nobody had grabbed her like that since Cameron—and certainly no one before. Her skin prickled and she felt the panic rise, but then Ewan’s tongue swept at her lips and she tasted him. Laird Cameron had always tasted of whiskey or wine. Ewan tasted like mint, as if he’d chewed it before coming to find her. That taste, that scent alone was enough to remind her, yet again, that Ewan was not Malcolm Cameron. She wassafe.

Una let out a small sob, almost collapsing into the kiss.

Ewan kissed her like a man leaving for war. He kissed her without restraint, without guile or finesse, as if he were trying to join the very fibers of their bodies. He was a man possessed, bent on erasing every kiss that had come before and ruining every kiss yet to come with anyone that wasn’t him.

Una wrapped her arms around his neck and grabbed at the sun-bleached waves that hung past his collar. Ewan’s hand slid from her low back down to cup her arse, pulling her roughly against him. She felt the hard planes of his body, the soft places, too, against her own. The muscles of his shoulders bunched and flexed under her wrists, and she became more aware than ever of the raw power of his body.

It made her feel wild. His body was a weapon, and she suspected that all she would need to do is ask and he would wield it for her however she commanded.

He brought his other hand from her hair to the other cheek of her backside, squeezing it roughly as he ground his hips against her. Una felt the hard line of his cock against her belly and moaned as he bit her lower lip.

He held her jaw in his hands, angling her head back to give him greater access to her mouth. Ewan began to walk, pressing her with his body under she felt the cold stones of the wall at her back.

“Is this good? Are you well?” Ewan panted against her mouth, and she nodded rapidly.

It was true. Wedged between Ewan’s body and the stone wall, she wondered why she didn’t feel frightened. After all, Cameron had pushed her up against a wall many times and it had always made her feel like being buried alive.

But this felt nothing like that. If anything, she wished Ewan would press in closer. The yielding hardness of his body at her front and the unyielding solidity of the stone at her back made her body feel positively alive with sensation, as if lightning crackled under her skin.

“Una,” he whispered huskily, his lips against her throat. “I didnae plan to fall on you like a beast. God’s bones, Una, I—”

“Aye,” she said and kissed him again.

Una slid her hands away from his hair, down his chest, around his waist, and then back up to grip his shoulders. As he sucked gently on her tongue, she lifted her right leg, wrapping it around Ewan’s calf. That small gesture seemed to bring out even more of the beast in him as he began quickly rucking the skirts of her gown and chemise up in greedy handfuls, like a parched man hauling a bucket up from the well.

The fire was low in the hearth, and the room was cold. Una’s skin erupted in goosebumps as the fabric lifted higher and higher. When her skirts were around her waist, Ewan gripped her bare backside, pulling her hips roughly against his.

“Christ, Una,” he moaned, caressing her arse. “You are so soft.”

She lifted her leg higher, hooking her calf around the back of his thigh. A low growl sounded in Ewan’s throat, and he lifted her from the floor. He grunted, sounding pained, and her eyes flew open as she remembered his stitches.