Page 14 of Bride Takes a Charmer
When he took her hand in his, Sorsha drew a small sigh at the warmth of his touch. She trembled and was unsure if it was from desire swarming her body or the emotions coursing through her. His touch was tender, yet strong, as if he offered so much more than his escort to the dance floor. Was it her imagination? She didn’t think so.
She gently squeezed his hand and allowed him to lead her as the harpist’s chords filled the chamber with a soft melody. She moved around him in steps to the dance. Each time he approached her, she met his intense gaze. The overwhelming urge to touch him caused her to clasp his hand and force him to follow her.
Sorsha didn’t know where she was taking him, but she wanted to be alone. They ended up on a balcony to the right of the great hall. A short stone wall surrounded the length of the balcony and she sat upon it.
He joined her, sitting beside her, and stretched his legs outward. His muscular, hard thigh almost pressed against her softer one but she shifted a little closer, purposely squeezing herself against him. How she wanted to press her hand on his hard, muscular thigh, to caress him, and to tell him withoutwords how much she had missed him. She lifted her eyes and saw the passion in his gaze. At that moment, it was as if they had never been separated. They didn’t speak but could only gaze at each other until Shaw finally broke the silence.
“I never forgot ye, lass. When ye married Rodick, I was begrudged in my pursuit of ye. Now that ye are available again, would ye be amiable to marrying me?” He took her hand and squeezed it with his warm fingers.
She looked down at their joined hands. It felt so right to be able to touch him and she couldn’t help but enjoy it. “Oh, Shaw, you do not know how disappointed I was to have to marry Rodick. My father forced me to accept him because he’d made a treaty with the Chattans. I had no choice but to obey him.” Reluctantly, she withdrew her hand from his, as saddened memories brought forth the reminder of hurting him then.
Yet Shaw’s tone didn’t sound angry or piqued. She shifted closer to him, and briefly closed her eyes, allowing his nearness to affect her senses. He smelled of a manly scent that reminded her of rain amid a warm summer day, and the sound of his voice nearly shook her. “If you want to marry me now, then yes, I would be amiable.”
“I professed my feelings for ye back then but we were so young. I thought we had time. To have to witness your marriage to my cousin was a difficult time for me…”
Sorsha reached for his hand again and this time she held it. “I wasn’t told until right before my wedding that I was to marry him. It was a horrid day to be sure. I vow it was a difficult time for me as well.” She lowered her chin and tried not to let the sadness of her admission affect her.
“Ye had a child, did ye not, and gave Laird Chattan a daughter?”
Sorsha smiled and nodded. “I did. Her name is Gillian.”
“Is she at Tor?” he asked and caressed the tops of her fingers with his thumb.
She glanced at his hand and the sensual way he stroked hers. In all the years she’d been with Rodick, he never once touched her in such an appealing, desirous way. “She is, but I hope to retrieve her soon.” She decided now was not the time to discuss how Gillian was essentially Geoff’s hostage.
“I was almost knocked on my arse when Alexander told me that ye were an offered bride. Though I am sorry for your loss, lass, I am not displeased to take ye for my wife. I promise ye that ye will be held in the highest esteem by my clan and by me as well.” He lifted her hand and brushed his hard, manly lips over her knuckles.
Sorsha’s breath caught in her throat. She scrunched her eyes and grinned, hoping his words held the promise of a better life for her and Gillian. “There is nothing, Laird Mackintosh, that would make me happier.”
“Shaw, lass. Ye used to call me Shaw, do ye remember? I was always fond of the way ye spoke it. I will do my best to win your hand before any of the other grooms can name ye. Should we return to the hall?” He stood and pulled her to stand.
Sorsha didn’t know what overcame her, but once she was on her feet, she embraced him. Her arms surrounded his hard familiar body and she pressed herself against him. She lifted her face to better see him but his gray eyes smoldered with a look she well-remembered. Shaw shifted his face toward hers and he set his mouth near her lips.
“I have always been enchanted by ye.” He kissed her all-too-briefly.
When he pulled away, Sorsha fingered her lips and teetered on her feet, completely captivated by him. “We shall do well together, Shaw. I vow to be a good wife for you.”
“There is no other woman’s heart I desire more than yours.”
Chapter Six
There was trickeryafoot. Shaw realized that when he’d been chosen to fight in the first two battles and was commanded to purposely lose. The queen had bade him to do so, and of course, he couldn’t disobey her order. That the king wanted to witness their combat also led him to believe that the king was only after entertainment and used the marriages as a way to do so. Still, Shaw was more than incensed at his defeat, especially against MacKendrick and Cameron. Now, there was one last opponent and Shaw decided to take matters into his own hands. He wasn’t about to be routed by Buchanan or possibly lose Sorsha once again.
“Ye look like ye got run over by a cart.” Walen chortled a laugh. “I say ye can still take Buchanan even though he’s a wily fighter. Your face is no longer bonny. Make certain ye protect it, Laird, in the next bout. Can ye even see out of that eye?” He made a hissing sound and grinned.
Shaw disliked his comrade’s banter, but it was true that he wore the battering his adversaries doled out in the last bouts on his face. “Cosh, be quiet or I’ll skelp ye. I feel like I was run over by a cart. I need ye to do me a favor.”
Walen stepped toward him; his brows wrinkling, and his eyes squinting. He lowered his voice with seriousness and asked, “What do ye need?”
“Find Buchanan and tell him to come to me. I’ll await him here.” He pulled a golden cup from a small satchel he wore and handed it to his comrade. “After, take this and have it melted down.” He told him exactly what he wanted made from the melted gold.
“I’ll see to it, Laird.” Walen marched off with a purposeful stride.
Since Declan MacKendrick had won Lady Isabella’s hand and Magnus Cameron had won Lady Kendra’s, that only left two remaining brides—Eva Scott, and Sorsha.
In Shaw’s opinion, Sorsha was definitely a prize worth fighting for. As he paced along the wall by the king’s garrison awaiting his opponent, Shaw considered how to sway Breckin Buchanan to agree to allow him to name his bride. He wasn’t about to be further entertainment for the king and didn’t want to fight in another round. He especially didn’t want to be saddled with Eva Scott. Although Eva was beyond beautiful, she was rather young and from accounts, a spoiled willful lass.
Breckin walked next to Walen and when they reached him, his opponent grunted. Shaw waved Walen away so he might speak to Breckin privately. When his comrade was far enough away, he motioned to Breckin and they walked slowly along the wall.