Page 47 of The Highlander's Temporary Bride
A smile played on his lips as he nodded at her. “Try and ride the length of the pasture and back. I’ll wait here.”
“What if I fall?” she blurted out.
“Ye havenae yet,” he said and rested his hand on her knee, causing her to suck in a breath. Desire flooded her.
Keep it there, oh please,whispered a wicked voice in her heart.
“Trust yerself and Mor. Ye can do this, Emma.” He winked and stepped back.
Pulling in a slow breath, trying to push away those thoughts and terrible yearnings, Emma focused on Mor. She squeezed her legs lightly and leaned forward, and Mor began to walk. A thrill of fear—and joy—coursed through her.
I am doing it.
With each step, her fear ebbed and her joy increased. This was not so bad, nor so hard. When they got closer to the fence, Emma managed to turn Mor and guide her back to the Laird, who whistled and clapped.
Trembling all over, she held out a hand. “Alright, you were right, Sir.” He laughed softly, and she couldn’t help but smile. “Now, please get me down.”
“Alright, alright,” he said and reached up, catching her around the waist and lowering her to her feet. “Next time, ye’ll learn how to dismount.”
“Next time?” Emma asked.
We only have five more days.
“Och, aye, I have more to teach ye,” he said. “But now, I think ye deserve a reward.”
Emma felt her heart skip a beat. Even though her upbringing, her common sense, and everything else screamed at her to decline, she merely gave the Laird a slow smile and said, “I agree.”
They left the horses grazing in the pasture and took a narrow, winding path through the wild fields beyond. It twisted throughsmall groves and along the ridges of hills, offering breathtaking views of the loch.
Emma did not ask any questions, only watching Laird Ronson stride ahead, a pack that he’d taken from Balfire’s saddle slung over his shoulder, his steps sure and steady.
Out here, he belonged to the land. The wilderness called to him, and something in him called back. And as Emma walked along, an English lady hundreds of miles away from her home as well as everything she’d ever known, something stirred deep within her.
Perhaps I could hear it too if I stopped and listened.
She tucked that thought deep into her heart as they continued on.
Her eyes seemed to seek out every last detail. Greedily, she memorized the landscape, the slant of light, the scents, and the strong form of the man in front of her.
This, Emma decided,I shall keep for myself.
It wasn’t until they reached a hidden stretch of sandy shore, after clambering through a tree line, that Emma realized she should’ve asked where they were going. She should’ve suggested taking a chaperone with them, too, even though they’d been alone together countless times.
Only, those suggestions fell to the wayside as she walked to the edge of the water and gazed out at the loch. The evening was breaking, and the loch shimmered with hues of amber and gold, while the scent of brine rode in from the west.
When she turned around, Emma saw that Laird Ronson had laid out a large blanket and was setting out dinner. Her heart leaped even as she glanced to the west, where she knew the castle was hidden beyond the vale and trees.
“Come eat,” the Laird called with a wave of his hand.
Emma felt a flutter in her stomach, the sense that she should turn and flee, not walk toward him. But when he looked over at her, shaking back his wild dark hair, his green eyes lit with a sparkle of mischief that he wanted her to share, she could not resist.
Joining him on the blanket, they had a small snack, but mostly, they talked. Emma spoke about Mor, then the castle gardens she’d explored only this morning—which had felt like days ago—and then the loch, and so on. Her chatter felt like nervous rambling.
Eventually, she paused and peered at the Laird, who was watching her, the corners of his mouth curling up, as though he did not realize he was smiling.
“What?” Emma asked.
“I like the way ye see the world, Me Lady,” he said slowly. “And I never thought I’d say such to aSassenach, much less a noble one.”
