Page 47 of Sighs of the Highland Wind

“Will we be like them?” Kenna asked. “I hope we are.”

“I will make sure of it!” Maxwell answered firmly, as a plate heaped with a small mountain of food appeared in front of him.

Kenna’s eyes widened as she looked at it.

“Are you going to eat all that?” she asked, amazed.

“Yes,” he replied as he picked up a piece of chicken and bit into it. “We will both need all our strength.”

He winked at her and she blushed, then drank deeply of her wine, hiding behind the rim of the glass.

Kenna began to eat her food in tiny nibbles while Maxwell watched her from the corner of his eye.

Underneath the table, he began to squeeze the soft flesh of her inner thigh, beginning at her knee and working slowly upward. All the while, he was keeping up a conversation with his uncle, who was seated on his right-hand side.

Kenna felt shivers of sensation moving from his hand to her core as what felt like a puddle of warm liquid began to gather between her legs. It was such a delicious feeling that she had to bite down on her lower lip to stop herself from crying out.

She tried to move Maxwell’s hand, but he was far stronger than she was and refused to budge. However, fate intervened when one of the other guests began to talk to Maxwell’s uncle, and he was obliged to end the conversation.

By this time, his thumb was caressing the most sensitive spot on Kenna’s body, and she was becoming so aroused that she knew she had to make her escape or risk embarrassing herself.

Maxwell turned to her, grinning wickedly, but when he saw the desperate look in Kenna’s eyes, he stopped his ministrations immediately, and Kenna sagged, limp with relief. Tremors were still going through her body, but gradually they began to subside, and she was relieved to realize that no one had noticed anything amiss.

“Kenna, are you all right?” Maxwell asked in an anxious whisper. “I am sorry, I did not mean to upset you.”

Looking into his silver-grey eyes, Kenna felt her heart swell with love.

“It was too…pleasant,” she whispered. It was an inadequate word but the only one she could think of at that moment. “Leave all that ’til later, or I will embarrass both of us.”

“Stop murmuring sweet nothings, you two,” said a laughing woman’s voice.

It belonged to Maxwell’s cousin Mhairi, a young woman with bright red hair and a well-developed sense of humor.

“Remember what I promised the last time we argued, young Mhairi?” Maxwell said threateningly, waving a knife in the air, eyes narrowed in mock fury.

“Kenna, he said he would set my hair on fire!” Mhairi told Kenna, trying not to giggle.

“We were only ten years old,” Maxwell informed his wife. “Fortunately, I have never had to carry out that threat. But there is always a first time!”

“Kenna, don’t worry,” Mhairi said, laughing. “He pretends to be big and tough?—”

“I am big and tough!” Maxwell protested, flexing his arms.

“—but inside he is as soft as butter.” Mhari winked at Kenna, then sighed. “I am so happy for both of you. I never thought I would see Max madly in love.”

Maxwell smiled lovingly at his wife. “Neither did I,” he said. “Is she not beautiful, Mhairi?”

“Indeed she is,” Mhairi agreed, “and I hope we will be very good friends.”

“I hope so too.” Kenna smiled at her.

“And one of these days I will be married if I can just snare Cameron Johnstone over there!”

Mhairi nodded toward a tall, fair man who was a little older than them. He had a pleasant face and a kind manner, and Kenna liked him at once.

“That poor man has had a target on his back ever since he came out of mourning,” Maxwell said, sighing and shaking his head. “She will drag him to the altar if it is the last thing she ever does.”

Just then, Cameron turned, caught her eye, and smiled. Mhairi waved, jumped up, and hurried over to him. They stood,laughing at some jest for a moment before he put an arm around her shoulders, and they walked away, chatting amiably.