Page 73 of Sinful Scottish Laird
They lay that way for a while as the storm raged outside and flashes of lightning lit the room. It was odd how the the storm seemed close to them and yet so far. They were safe here, with each other.
Cailean stroked her hair, twined it through his fingers as he made her laugh with observations of her dancing. They talked about their childhoods. Their favorite pets. Their horses. Their tutors. Their sorrows, their joys.
They made love again when Daisy climbed on top of him. They moved slowly as they explored the suddenly verdant landscape between them.
Daisy didn’t know when she fell asleep in his arms, but she was awakened in the dark by the movement of someone in the room. She sat up, propping herself on her elbows and blinking into the dark. “Cailean?”
“I’m here,” he said low. The bed sank to one side with his weight. He touched her face and smiled tenderly. “I must go, aye? The servants will be moving about soon.”
“Don’t go,” Daisy said sleepily and reached for him. Cailean hugged her to his chest; she pressed her cheek against his shoulder, her head filling with his masculine scent. She closed her eyes, wanting to relive every moment.
“Och,but you make it hard to take my leave,leannan,” her murmured against her hair. He kissed her mouth and stood up, pushing his arms into his coat.
She sat up, wrapped her arms around her knees. “When will I see you?” she asked. She had a sudden, girlish image of the two of them, riding horses in flower-strewn meadows with the sun shining overhead...but her little fantasy disappeared when she saw Cailean run his hands over his hair and then hesitantly turn toward her. He didn’t speak immediately...but he didn’t have to. The look on his face said it all—sorrow. Regret. Apprehension.
The feeling of sweet warmth Daisy had felt all night disappeared under a wave of disappointment. She said nothing.Let him say it. Let him say he’d given her what she wanted and there could be no more.
“Naugh’ has changed, aye? You donna believe that I...thatwe—”
“Good God, Arrandale, did you think I expected you on one knee offering for me?” she asked irritably and drew her knees tighter to her.
He put his hands on his waist and gazed down at her. “I am fond of you, aye? You know that I am,leannan.But you will take your leave of Scotland and I will...” He paused, seeming to look for the right word.
“Sail off and smuggle wine?” she asked coldly.
He winced slightly, as if that pained him. “Aye,” he said.
She responded with silence.
“I’ll always be your friend, Daisy. If you are again in Scotland—”
“I won’t be,” she said curtly. He thought he could make love to her like he had and then continue on as a friendly neighbor?
But whathadshe expected? She was the one who had initiated this affair. She was the one who had all but begged for physical release, and now she would take offense once he’d given it to her? She hated herself for hoping for something different. She was no blushing debutante; she knew the rules of this game. So why, then, did it feel so wretchedly heartbreaking?
“I rather thought we understood each other,” he said quietly.
“I understand very clearly, Cailean,” she said. “But I had hoped I was wrong.”
He sighed sadly. He moved back to the bed and leaned over it to kiss her, but, like a spoiled child, Daisy turned her head. She could feel the tears of humiliation burning in her eyes. She was a fool, an utter fool. Of course she hadn’t thought she’dmarryhim. But she’d thought...she’d thought—
“Leannan—”
She leaned away from him. “Cailean... Iunderstand. Will you please go?”
He didn’t move immediately, but Daisy refused to look at him. She couldn’t look at him, for fear of breaking into sobs that welled from a place so deep in her that it felt almost foreign to her. A dam had burst somewhere, and at this moment, with the feel of his hands and his mouth still fresh on her skin, she couldn’t see him, couldn’t staunch the flow of ugly, bitter disappointment. Andloss. She was losing him, losing herself. She was losing everything. Her freedom. Her garden. Her heart. Everything was lost.
She heard the door open, then quietly close. She held her breath—was he gone? Should she call him back? She looked to the door—he had left her. Daisy groaned and fell back into the pillows, ashamed of the way she’d treated him and irrationally infuriated with him at the same time. It made no sense, not even to her.
Daisy got up, found her chemise and donned it. She picked up the room without thought, as reality began to seep back into her head like black smoke, curling in around the joy she’d felt during the night and suffocating the life from it.
She wanted gone from Balhaire. Gone from Scotland. Gone from him, that beautiful, exasperating, sinful man. Whatever she’d been seeking when she’d dragged her family here, she had not found it.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CAILEANMADEHISway up from the meadow of thefeilland to the great hall at Balhaire, taking his place on the dais along with his family for the midday meal. He sat next to Vivienne, who was in extreme discomfort, squirming in her seat as her husband tried to make her more comfortable.
“What’s wrong?” Cailean asked, frowning with concern.
