Page 43 of The Highlander’s Fake Wife (Legacy of Highland Lairds #4)

O livia’s heart practically leapt into her throat at the sound of footsteps. She sprang up from the chair she was sitting. She wanted nothing more than to throw herself into Arthur’s embrace, but had enough restraint to simply offer a hopeful smile his way.

“Come wit me, selkie,” Arthur said as they approached the bedroom’s door.

Once more, Olivia’s heart went wild. She quickly obliged.

The moment the door closed behind them, she dove into Arthur’s arms, grabbing his waist for a tight embrace as he, too, quickly reciprocated.

“Tell me what happened! What did they ask ye? Do they believe ye’re innocent, Arthur? When do they think?—”

“Easy, selkie!” Arthur chuckled lightly, pulling away just enough so the pair could speak face-to-face. “Yer forgettin’ to breathe.”

Olivia inhaled deeply, feeling a touch dizzy at the sudden rush of oxygen. As she exhaled, her questions began to stream out once more, only to be interrupted by Arthur’s gentle finger against her lips.

“Hector an’ Duncan believe me,” Arthur explained. “They just need to do things properly.”

Olivia somehow exhaled further, legs wobbling as relief flooded her body.

Arthur easily caught her, scooping her up into his arms once more as their pair shared a brief moment of elation together.

But, her euphoria soon diminished, and she gently placed her hands against Arthur’s arms. Concern knitted his brow as he set her down, immediately pulling a chair across for her to sit in.

“What is it, selkie?” Arthur asked.

Olivia began to fidget with the hem of her nightgown’s sleeves. “It’s just…it’s over, now.”

“What is?” Arthur chuckled nervously, visibly bemused. “Yer speakin’ in riddles, Olivia.”

He'd used her name. He really was worried. “Me clan was being puppeteered, and ye discovered the hand in charge. Those still loyal to me–I have to return to them, Arthur.”

Arthur’s smile fell as he shook his head slowly.

“Arthur.”

“Why do ye need to leave? Yer clan isnae–they havenae proved they deserve ye back.” Arthur’s voice darkened, a hateful glint casting across his eye.

Like the very sea itself couldn’t accept what Olivia had just said.

“There could still be disloyal folk after yer life–stay by me side, Olivia. We can run our clans together, as–”

“If today has taught me anything, it’s that a laird cannae appear weak.

” Olivia turned her gaze away from Arthur, unable to look at the anger–the hurt–in his eye any longer.

“I…I cannae simply rely on ye, Arthur.” She bit back a sudden gasp as her chair spun around, forcing her to speak to Arthur face-to-face.

“I dinnae believe you, selkie,” Arthur stated curtly. “Ye have another reason fer saying these things.”

Olivia tried to shake her head, but found herself unable to.

“Tell me the truth, Olivia.” Arthur got down on his knee, his hands cradling the side of her face. “Do ye nay trust me with it?”

She did. She absolutely did, but it killed Olivia to admit to what she was thinking.

“Arthur…” she blinked furiously, his thumb catching stray tears that ran down her face.

“I…I cannae marry ye. Not if ye willnae choose a life o’ fighting over our family.

” She grasped his hand, biting back a sob.

“Becoming a maither–it’s what I’ve been waiting for.

Me purpose in life. And–and I cannae ask ye to compromise yerself for me. ”

She couldn’t face him, couldn’t bare to see him heartbroken. Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, allowing more tears to fall as her breath shuttered terribly.

“Selkie…”

She managed to shake her head this time.

“Olivia?”

A tiny gasp slipped out, and as Olivia opened her eyes, she was surprised to find Arthur’s own watering as well. Her hand pressed against his face, the curls of his beard tickling against her palm.

“Olivia…what if ye’re me reason fer living?”

Olivia blinked. Blinked again. Blinked so furiously, she was certain her tears had formed a puddle on the floor around her.

“What if, over the time that we’ve ken each other, I’ve been slowly falling in love with the selkie whose pelt I managed to steal?

” Arthur chuckled lightly, eye misty as he fought to keep his voice even.

“What if I fell in love with her silver tongue, her desire to learn archery, the love and grace she showed a clan who hardly deserves her?” He gently grasped her hand, kissing the knuckles as Olivia felt something wetter than his lips fall against her hand.

“What if I decided I didnae wish to hide me fear o’ the future behind excuses?

” Arthur raised his face, expression so full of longing and aching desire.

“What if I trusted that, even if I were to fall in battle one day, this oceanic goddess o’ mine would be surrounded by love an’ support?

That me children wouldnae have to worry fer a future I’ll ensure is no longer stained in blood? ”

“A-Arthur…”

“I love ye, Olivia MacLarsen. And the one thing that would give me life is to have ye by my side, however long that life may be.” Arthur’s smile was so genuine, so terrified; he bore his heart in its entirety, and he was doing it for her.

For a moment, Olivia wasn’t certain how to reply.

She felt as if they’d already spent a lifetime together, and yet, the future remained entirely unknown.

She didn’t know if the clans would put their weapons aside, declare peace in sake of future generations.

She didn’t know if Arthur would grow old beside her, or if he would die protecting her sometime in the coming days.

Olivia didn’t know what to think. But she knew exactly what she felt.

And she expressed it by throwing herself into Arthur’s arms once more, her lips finding his as she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck.

Their kiss was long, lingering, a dazzling mix of love and loss and fear and hope.

It was sweet mead and oceanic salt, of the forest earth and yearning indescribable.

And it was theirs. Wholly, uniquely theirs.