Page 56 of The Laird's Wicked Game
That wasn’t part of their agreement.
All the same, ever since their supper together at Yule, she’d marked a change in him. He was still as hungry for her each week, as passionate, but there was a slight reserve in his manner when they weren’t abed. And when she observed him at mealtimes, or when she saw him on the walls with his men or talking to Jack in the barmkin, he seemed a little subdued.
Was she the cause?
Clenching her jaw, she picked up her skirts and stepped over a large puddle.By the Saints, think about something else!Her gaze slid left then, over the rough surface of the Sound. The wind had whipped it up this morning, although the shadow of the mainland was sharp against a robin’s egg blue sky.
Perthshire, and Meggernie Castle, lay in that direction.
Longing tugged at her chest, not for her lover this time though. Indeed, she’d received a letter from Makenna the day before, with news from Meggernie, and reading her sister’s missive, and her complaints about the Campbells pushing south again, had left her unsettled. Two days before getting word from Makenna, a letter had also arrived from Liza. All was well at Moy, and Liza planned to visit them at Bealtunn.
Of course, this news had pleased Kylie—despite that she still didn’t approve of her sister’s marriage—yet it couldn’t shift the discomfort that sat on her chest like a boulder these days.
The nagging intuition that she was heading for disaster.
Anxiety fluttered up once more, although she tried to ignore it.Life is good, she told herself firmly,and ye’d do well to stay focused on the progress ye have made with Ailean and Lyle.Aye, she had. The lads were learning swiftly now. These days, they came to their lessons with an enthusiasm that warmed her.
“Look!” Lyle exclaimed then, throwing aside his stick and racing away down the path. “Snowdrops!”
Laughing, Ailean took off after him.
Quickening her pace, Kylie followed them to where a patch of slender green shoots—with delicate white bonnets that waved in the wind—grew farther up the path, poking up through a patch of melting snow.
Indeed, they were snowdrops—spring flowers that were symbols of hope and friendship in adversity.
“Spring is here!” Ailean said, flashing her a grin. “At last!”
Kylie forced a smile in return. “Almost,” she replied, even as her belly dropped to her boots. “We haven’t reached March yet … don’t wish time away, lad.”
She was a coward. She should have told Rae that day of her discovery.
After all, she’d made it clear. As soon as the first of the snowdrops appeared, their game would conclude.
But she hesitated, waiting until two days later, after they’d lain together again.
Kylie collapsed panting against Rae’s sweat-slick chest, her body trembling in the aftermath of their passion, pleasure still pulsing through her womb. And as she lay there, and the world stopped spinning, her thoughts turned to the flowers she’d seen glistening in the late winter sunlight.
It’s time.
Finally gathering her courage, she propped herself up onto an elbow and gazed down into Rae’s ruggedly handsome face. His eyes were still closed.
“I’ve seen my first snowdrops,” she murmured.
His eyelids flickered open, and his gaze shadowed, before his mouth curved into a wry smile. “So did I … a couple of days ago now … but I was loath to tell ye.”
Kylie grimaced. So, they were both fazarts. She decided not to admit that she too had hesitated to tell him. She’d wanted one last time together.
They both had.
Rae huffed a sigh then. “Our arrangement is at its conclusion then?”
She nodded, even as an ache rose beneath her breastbone. “Aye, all games must end … sooner or later.”
Their gazes fused before he finally replied, “Never have six months passed so quickly. It seems the blinking of an eye since we opened The Art of Coupling.”
She gave a soft snort. “Aye, but we’ve worked our way through it now.” Her breathing quickened then. “And … these days, we need no guide.”
“No.” He lifted a hand, brushing Kylie’s hair back from her face. “I will miss this … closeness.”