Page 91 of My Brave Highlander

"Well… I kissed your forehead and you grabbed me."

"I did? Saints," he muttered, his face heating. He'd never been one to get aggressive with women, unless they wanted it.

"You started kissing me and… heavens… it got hot in here. And then you rubbed your mouth over my breasts, and suckled at them. It felt amazing, and—"

"Enough!" Damnation, he already ached for her. He didn't need more fuel on the fire. She aroused him like no other woman ever had, and now the wall he'd built around his desire had been smashed.

"I thought you wished me to explain it to you," Isobel said.

"There is no need for such great detail. It… brings it all back, what little I can remember. And you could be…" An odd mixture of fear and hope stole his words. What was he thinking? He feared naught. But it was all so overwhelming and sudden.

"What?" she asked.

He released a pent-up breath. "You could be with child. Damnation. Are you mad, woman?"

"'Twas not my fault. You seduced me with your irresistible kisses."

Kisses. Aye, he loved kissing her and wanted to now. He forced himself to turn his back and pace away from her.

"Most chiefs want offspring, you know," she said. "Will you not need an heir when you're chief?"

He turned on his heel. "You are betrothed to another chief!" If she carried Dirk's bairn, the only way for that child—if it was male—to be his heir was if he married her.

She shrugged. "It matters not."

"It should. This could spur a clan war." Hell, he couldn't become chief one day and then lead his own clansmen into battle the next, all because he couldn't control his lusts with the virgin fiancée of his neighbor. 'Twas beyond irresponsible. He'd never been irresponsible before.

She frowned. "Do you think the MacLeods would attack your clan over it? Or mine?"

"They might. Your brother will likely have to work out an agreement with them and give them a gift."

"If he'd give them the land, they'd likely be appeased. 'Twas all they wanted anyway."

He nodded. "If they find out you're here, they may attack anyway, agreement or no. Feuds have been started over far less."

Long-faced, she stared at the door. "I should leave, go back to my own clan."

A feeling of dread hit him in the pit of his stomach. He feared he could never let her go. His possessiveness was fired up and he couldn't imagine living his life without her. "Nay. I can't take you back there now. 'Tis winter. The wind blows too fiercely to travel by water. And to travel through MacLeod territory with you would be suicide without an army to ward off their certain attack."

"I suppose I'll have to stay until spring. By then, we'll know whether or not I'm with child."

He ground his teeth, imagining her lush body swollen with his child. Although he found the image beyond appealing, he'd never thought about having children before. His life had always been too disrupted. For the last ten years he'd done little but travel with his friends. But now, all that was behind him. He might be voted in as chief today. That meant settling down, leading his people and marrying. He hadn't planned to look for a wife right away. Perhaps in a year or two, after he'd accustomed himself to being chief.

But if Isobel carried his child, he would have to marry her. Not that the prospect was hellish in the least. Marrying her could quite possibly be paradise. But what of her betrothed? The last thing he wanted was a feud with the MacLeods.

She'd been a virgin. He shook his head. Had he been rough with her? He barely remembered taking her. 'Twas more like a feverish dream, vague, but the memory was there. He remembered the pleasure. Twice was more than enough to get her with child.

"I'll have to marry you. I won't have any other choice," he said.

She frowned. "You have a choice. If you don't want to marry me, then don't." She rolled over, turning her back to him. "If you would be so kind as to leave the room, I'll dress and get out of your way."

Damnation. Now he'd gone and done it. Hurt her feelings. He was not accustomed to womanly sensibilities.

"Pray pardon," he said. "But like you said, you might be carrying my bairn. My heir." His head swam. Was this sensation left over from the bash on the head, the herbs, or from things happening so fast? He could hardly believe she might have already conceived his heir before he was even chief.

She shrugged. "That seems to matter little to you."

"It matters, have no doubt of it."