Page 64 of Desire of a Highlander

Chapter 15

For one long, terrifying heartbeat, Elodie wished she could snatch those words back. Not because they weren’t true, but because they were. That terrified her more than anything.

For his part, Ronan looked like he was carved from stone. He didn’t move. He didn’t even seem to be breathing.

“Ronan? For God’s sake, say something.”

He swallowed. “I confess,” he said in a choked whisper, “I’m finding it rather difficult to frame a coherent thought right now, let alone words.”

She looked into those impossibly blue eyes and felt every carefully built wall she’d constructed crumble into dust. “Honestly? You’re not the only one.”

He looked down at their joined hands. “Dear God, lass. Is this real? I needed hope. And ye’ve just given it to me.” His thumb stroked slowly across the back of her hand and his smile faded into something deeper. “I’ve been trying not to feel this.”

“Why?”

“Because I feared ye would leave.” He snorted softly. “Never did I dream that ye’d be leaving me for the future.”

The words sliced her like a knife, their harsh reality enough to make her gasp. Hadn’t she wanted to go home since the moment she arrived here? But was that still the case?

Ronan took a long breath. “But damn it all, lass, I’ve learned that the future isnae certain. None of us are promised a tomorrow. This is all we have.” He squeezed her hands. “Now is all we have.” His eyes searched hers. “I love ye too, Elodie.”

The words settled over her like a thick warm cloak and Elodie forgot to breathe.

“Oh,” she said.

It seemed a highly inadequate word, but it was all she could come up with. Her thoughts were suddenly racing, her stomach tying itself into a knot. “I suddenly seem unable to form a coherent thought.”

He laughed lightly at that. “I think I began loving ye the day ye marched into my smithy demanding answers.”

“I prefer the term ‘politely persistent.’”

“Aye, we’ll go with that then.” Ronan reached up and gently tucked a loose strand of brown hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered against her cheek.

“So,” he murmured.

“So,” she agreed. “Where do we go from here?”

“Well, how about this?”

He leaned forward slowly, giving her every opportunity to pull away. Instead, she met him halfway. Their lips touched softly and Elodie slid her arms around his neck as he drew her gently against him. Something uncurled inside her, a rush of euphoria stronger than any drug. Ronan loved her. He loved her!

His lips moved insistently against hers and the kiss deepened naturally, unhurried. But it sent a spark racing right through her. It began deep in her belly like a match being lit, but quickly spread, becoming first a candle flame and then a bonfire, burning through her blood and sending heat roaring down to the spot between her legs. A low, helpless moan escaped her and she tightened her grip on Ronan, pulling him down on top of her.

He obliged, following her down, his hands on her body, his tongue in her mouth. Oh God.

All the pent-up tangled emotions she’d been feeling over the last few weeks suddenly overwhelmed her. Her restraint snapped. She wanted him. She wanted him like she’d never wanted anyone. Everything beyond their tiny oasis suddenly seemed distant, unimportant. But Ronan was right here, solid flesh and hard muscle. She could barely think for the want of him.

Ronan leaned over her, one of his big hands sweeping across her belly even as his lips found her neck, laying kisses down to the crease where her neck met her shoulder. She gasped and turned her head, catching his lips with hers, bringing up one arm to run her hand down his back.

His hand on her stomach traveled upwards, cupping one of her breasts beneath the rough material of her dress and caressing with his thumb until she arched under him, her nipple hardening almost painfully. She gasped again, moaning against his lips and an answering moan came from him.

“Elodie,” he groaned. “Dear God, lass, what are ye doing to me?”

She had no answer. Whatever he was feeling, she suspected she was feeling it fivefold. All the hairs along her arms and on the back of her neck were standing on end.

So instead of answering, she brushed her hand across the contours of his belly and down to the hard bulge between his legs. As her fingers swept lightly across his erection he jerked and gasped, his eyes going wide. She delighted in the power she had over him. Here he was, bigger than her, stronger than her, all muscle and sinew honed through long years working in his smithy, but the slightest touch of her hand and he was helpless.

She caressed him gently back and forth and he flung his head back, screwing his eyes tight shut. “If ye keep doing that,” he gasped. “Then I willnae be able to stop myself from taking ye.”