Page 17 of Forge of the Highlander’s Destiny

C ohen did his best to keep his mouth from falling open at the sight of Arya.

She opened the door tentatively, and then when she stood inside, full to his view, he couldn’t look away.

Even though her eyes moved about the room, taking in all the efforts of the servants that evening, his eyes were glued to her.

She wore a deep-green dress that looked a little familiar with a matching silk ribbon around her neck. It drew his gaze there, reminding him of the taste and feel of it. Her dark hair was pinned up, and her cheeks and lips looked pinker than normal, helping to bring out the lovely blue of her eyes.

And now that he knew what partly what lay beneath her gown, he found he wanted to see more. The low bodice she was wearing only made him think more about seeing her fully unclothed before him, and he hoped that she would allow him such a liberty.

He’d never been more nervous in his life as he made the preparations for the meal and bid the servants to have everything ready so that no one would enter the hall that evening. He wanted it to be just him and her.

“Come in, Lass,” he said with a stupid smile on his face that he couldn’t seem to wipe away. “Here, come and sit,” he pulled out a chair next to his, and Arya smiled at him, walking his way.

“Ye are quite the host,” she said with a laugh.

“I just wanted this to be special. That’s all,” he muttered, and helped her into her seat before sitting down himself.

He reached for the bottle of wine and poured her a glass, wondering why his hands were trembling. He had already been with her for days now. Had the library made so much of a difference?

Aye. Because now ye ken ye care for her, ye dolt.

“I told the servants nae to disturb us. That is why ye will see me pourin’ and servin’.”

She grinned as she took her filled wine glass and brought it to her lips. “I like to see a man serving.”

Her eyes twinkled at him, making his desire spark. Chuckling, he poured his own glass. “I thought ye might like that.”

“And,” he continued, “I thought ye also might like what we are eating tonight.” His eyes moved to the area laying on the table in front of the pot of stew.

“Och? Do tell.” She was being playful and teasing. He liked this side of Arya. In fact, he liked all sides of her, even when she was stomping away from him or hurling insults at him.

Or moaning while yer head is under her skirts.

He pushed that image away and the corresponding heat that moved through his muscles. He said, “We will be eating rabbit stew, thanks to the very recent archeress who has come into me life.” He pointed to the pot in front of him. “There is also the arrow, yer arrow, that Malcolm recovered for ye.”

Arya looked between him and the stew, and she leaned forward, her eyes bright with excitement. “Truly? The men didnae leave the rabbit in the woods as a way to punish me for…rebellion?” she added sarcastically.

“Nay,” he laughed. “What a waste to leave perfectly good meat when winter is upon us. It is snowing too. If ye havenae noticed.” He motioned to the windows on the far wall, and she turned around and made a gasp of pleasure.

He stared at her profile as she kept looking out the window.

There was a soft smile on her lips. “Perhaps it is foolish of me, but I love the snow. It makes me feel safe somehow. As if everything is fresh and new and nothing bad can happen to me.” She sighed and turned back around, and Cohen felt his heart squeeze.

Did she have to be so strong and innocent at the same time? He wanted to slaughter her father, who had tried to beat such beauty out of her. He was happy it still existed, but he wished she knew just how special she was.

In a thick voice, he replied, “Aye, I ken just what ye mean. But I’m glad we went huntin’ today, so that we didnae have to go when the snow was underfoot.”

“Och, Sàbhailte wouldnae mind. She kens how much I love the snow.”

“Sàbhailte?” he asked as he ladled some stew from the pot into her bowl. The smell filled his nose: rosemary and garlic, and it looked creamy and delicious. The cook had done well, just as he’d hoped.

“Aye, me horse. The one we rode here on. That is her name.”

“Ye named yer horse, ‘safe’, Lass?” he asked, ladling his own stew into his bowl.

She sighed as she pushed her spoon into the stew. “I ken it sounds odd, but it is a name that reminds me of the past. I want to always feel safe and happy. And loved,” she added in a lower voice before lifting the spoon to her lips.

He cleared his throat and looked down to take a spoonful to his own mouth.

“I hope that ye feel all those things, Arya. All the days of yer life.” They ate in silence for a few seconds, and Cohen could feel something heavy in the air.

The energy was charged between them, and he felt like he was on the precipice of something.

“Thank ye, Cohen. This was very kind of ye. The rabbit, the arrow, the food.” Arya looked up at him with a bright smile. “It’s good too.” She took up a piece of warm bread in her hand and dipped it into the stew.

“Well, I didnae cook it, so I cannae take credit for that, Lass. But ye are welcome.” He smiled back at her, his heart thumping away happily as he looked into her beautiful eyes.

“So,” she asked, taking a quick sip of her wine. “What would ye like to do this evening, after we are finished eating?”

Arya’s question immediately brought the scene from the library into his mind, and his expression must have shown it because Arya blushed deeply, and her smile fell. There were plenty of things he wished to do that evening and not one of them involved clothing.

Was it so painfully obvious how much of an innocent she was? Cohen’s face at her question was one of desire and eagerness, and while she felt just as eager, she didn’t want it to be so obvious.

“I didnae mean that,” she stammered. “Well, it is nae that I daenae want…I mean, only that,” she stopped, trying to staunch the foolish stream of words that were beginning to tumble out of her mouth. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “I meant a game. Should we play a game?”

His expression cleared, and he gave her a handsome smile. “Aye, we can do that, but I thought ye didnae like games. Ye seemed very focused at the last one, but I cannae say that I think ye enjoyed it.”

“Nay, I did!” she said eagerly and then lowered her voice. “It was difficult for me, but I liked the idea of it. The fact that a family sits around and plays somethin’ together. I ken Olivia would appreciate it.” She sighed, and Cohen nodded.

“Well, then, once she is safe, we will have to show her All Fours,” he said, and Arya smiled at him, thankful for his attempt to encourage her.

“Aye, we shall. So, what game should we play tonight?”

“Well, I have another idea. What if we read somethin’? I mean that I could read somethin’ to ye, or ye could read somethin’ to me?” This time, it was Cohen who blushed, and Arya fell just a little bit in love with him when she saw it.

Swirling her spoon around in her delicious stew, she smiled. “Aye, I would like that very much. I would be happy to listen to ye.”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “I think that is the first time I will ever hear those words.”

Despite her nerves, Arya burst into loud laughter, clutching at her stomach. He laughed too, and she felt her heart lighten slowly by degrees. Yes, things were getting very dangerous, indeed.

But it feels good to be dangerous , her thoughts prodded at her again.

“Now that ye have sufficiently praised yerself, Lad, what is it ye would like to read?”

He tapped at his chin as if he was really thinking about it and then said, “I should like to read somethin’ that me maither used to read to me at night when I was young.”

“What is it?” she asked, intrigued by his opening up to her just a little bit. Even though she had spent much time in conversation with Sienna over their visit, she hadn’t mentioned their parents.

“Me maither loved poetry,” he said with a distant look in his eye. “And she would read me the poems of John Donne. Have ye ever read him?”

Arya shook her head. “Nay, I cannae say that I have. I have seen his name on the spines of books in me faither’s library, but that is all.”

“Well, then I would be proud to read him to ye. If ye would allow me.” He was smiling so widely and happily at her.

It was the type of smile that made one smile back.

It was also the type of smile that made one weak at the knees, and Arya wasn’t sure if she had knees any longer. It was like they’d melted away.

“Of course. I would like that. Very much.” She finished her stew, and he gave her a bit more and another piece of bread.

“Do ye enjoy being a laird?” she asked, trying to learn more about him.

“Aye, I suppose I do. But I was always expected to take on the position. It was difficult, though, that me parents died early. I should have liked me freedom for a little while longer.” He cocked his head to the side, thinking a bit before he took another bite of stew.

Arya finished her wine, enjoying the warm feeling spreading through her legs. It relaxed her, and her heart slowed, finally relaxing into the moment. Like a true gentleman, he filled her wine glass again.

“Yer freedom as a young man without any responsibilities yet?”

“Exactly. And ye, Arya, if ye could have had anythin’, what would ye have wanted?”

Arya breathed out, amazed that she had been asked such a question. No one besides Olivia had ever thought to ask her something so deep and personal, and she found that she craved it. She craved to share, to open up, to let others know the real her. Instead of what her father wanted her to be.

She blinked at him for a few seconds, and looked down when she felt his warm, rough, very large hand cover hers. “Me apologies, Lass, if I have asked something too personal. Too intimate. Ye daenae have to answer.”

He began to pull his hand away, and Arya stopped him, grabbing it, and holding it tight.

“Nay. I thank ye. Truly. No one has ever asked me that before. I suppose I daenae have a ready answer. Although I have thought about it many times.” She sighed, and when she realized that she was still holding his hand, she let it go and leaned back, trying to put a little distance between them.

“I think I would like to dae anythin’ and everythin’. Me faither restricted us in every way possible, and I’m sure it was far worse because we were women. I should like to live a life where I can ride if I wish, hunt if I wish, fight if I wish, and read all day if I so wish it.”

Cohen smiled, lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “What a beautiful life that would be. I have kenned such freedom, Lass, and I would want that for ye. But how did ye become such a good huntress and archeress if ye were restricted?”

“Well,” she grinned with a mischievous flash in her eyes, “As Laird, me faither wasnae always home to restrict us. We took what freedoms we could when we could get them. That is why I wanted so badly to come and hunt with ye. And that is why I love yer library so much.”

“I’m sorry about that, and ye are a free to use the library whenever ye like, Lass. I understand its draw.” They finished their meals, and Cohen said, “Sit by the fire, Arya. I will be back in a moment.” He walked a little away, and then he turned back and said with a wink, “Daenae go anywhere.”

“I willnae,” she said, her heart fluttering wildly. “The night is only beginning, Cohen,” she said softly, staring at him and reveling in the look of his heated gaze.

“Aye, it is,” he replied, and when he shut the door behind him, Arya felt all the buzzing energy of being on the edge of something great.