Page 103 of The Scot Who Loved Me

Her giggle was sweet. Her hand drifted with the same sluggishness out of his placket. “I cannot stop touching you, Will MacDonald.”

“Because I’m the brawest mon you’ve ever met.”

“By far.”

“How handsome? Mr. Rory MacLeod handsome?”

Her head lifted and black wisps tickled his ear. She angled her head to see him better, the same as he was angling for a compliment.

She tipped her head this way and that. “It’s a close contest to be sure, but we may need to go and find Mr. MacLeod... for comparison’s sake only.”

“You wound me, lass. Right here.” He pointed to his heart.

Impish light sparked in her eyes. “For the best comparison, I may ask him to drop his breech—”

Will dragged her close and kissed her soundly. Hands in her hair, he nestled Anne between his legs... that stopped her tart tongue. It was a long kiss, sweet and dark, her tongue, her lips tasting of champagne. Anne was a mystery he’d barely plumbed. The young man had foolishly raised his fists in victory after their first kiss. HisYes!bellowed to the sky. A hard-earned first kiss, it was.

This was a mending of souls. Kindness, passion, love. An open-mouthed kiss melting into gentle nibbles, lips grazing, and tender noises lacing them together.

Heaven on earth. He’d find it wherever he was... as long as Anne was there.

Which begged a new, difficult conversation: she was leaving at dawn to go north.

Not a word had passed between them about him. Anne must’ve sensed his hesitation. She broke their kiss, folded her arm over his chest, and rested her chin there.

“Out with it, Will.”

This was nice, the weight of her on top of him. Anne belonged there, her legs lolling against his while the dray rumbled on.

He hooked an arm under his head. “You’re leaving at dawn.”

“I am. To take the gold back to Clanranald lands. It’s been my mission for years. You know that.”

This was the next skirmish. The night seemed full of them, but if he had to do battle, he’d do it with Anne and for Anne. She was pretty, the stars a crown to her head. Her eyes big emeralds, her cosmetics smudged. His landlocked mermaid, her green skirts a tail flipping her impatience. Black curls fell in sensual disarray. He plucked straw from one and tossed it aside.

“We havena discussed you and me, lass.”

He traced her collarbone to her shoulder.

“Because there’s nothing to discuss.”

He hooked a finger in her gown and tugged. Moonlight kissed her bared shoulder. The onyx curl slid lazily forward. It begged to be touched. He was fascinated with it, coiling and uncoiling her hair.

“We’re together. Forever. You heard what I said to Mr. MacLeod.” Anne’s strong voice thinned. “I cannot . . . I will not—”

A catch in her throat stopped her. Anne’s face crumpled.

“Will? You cannot mean to go to...”

The woman he loved more than life was about to cry and he would have none of that.

“Shhhhh...”

This wasn’t easy for either of them.

Her cheek on his chest, Anne grabbed handfuls of his coat. “I saw the way you looked at that painting. The beach at Benbecula.” Her head lifted heavily. “How can you not want to go home?”

“It’s no’ so easy, lass.” He brushed his knuckles on her wet cheek. “My father...”