Page 113 of Highlanders for the Holidays
“Roderick,” the old woman said, with a nod toward the door.
Lily’s pulse jumped. She swiped uselessly at her ungovernable hair and brushed her palms on the skirt of her gown. Though he came nearly every day, she always felt unprepared to see him.
The door opened with a rush of cold air, and Roderick filled the doorway looking so handsome she had to stifle a sigh.
Seanmhair poked Lily’s shoulder and handed her the cloak she had stolen from the baker’s son a lifetime ago.
“All right, we’re going.” Lily spoke the simple words in Gaelic without thinking.
As if to reward her, Seanmhair broke off a piece of greenery from the pile on the table that they had gathered earlier and stuck it in Lily’s hair.
“Thank you,” Lily said in Gaelic.
Roderick winked at his grandmother and took Lily’s arm. Lily was well aware that the two were working together to persuade her not to return to London in the spring. She did not quite know what to make of it, for surely his grandmother at least knew Lily did not have the makings of a great seer.
Lily and Roderick walked the path along the cliff, as they usually did. Each time he came to the cottage, she felt her defenses weaken.
“Aren’t you needed at the castle?”
“We’ve no enemies likely to attack while Alexander is at peace with the Crown, and we’ve plenty of well-trained warriors at the castle.” He paused. “What we will need soon is a healer, as my grandmother fears she’ll no longer be able to make the trip across the inlet come spring.”
The sail across the inlet was short, and the old woman seemed well enough to Lily.
As they walked side by side, she felt his desire as if it were something physical pulling their bodies together. To break the spell, she stepped off the path. The view from the cliff usually soothed her.
“’Tis so beautiful here,” she said, as she took in the wide vista of the sea dotted with islands and the dreamlike layers of gray-blue mountains on the mainland beyond.
“I didn’t expect ye to like Skye,” he said as he came to stand beside her. “I feared you’d suffer from loneliness in such a quiet place.”
Lily liked the quiet, and she was accustomed to keeping her own company. At least here, she had his grandmother and Roderick’s visits. In truth, she had not realized how lonely her life in London had become since her sister married and the old healer died. She was not about to confess that, however.
“Anyone would appreciate how lovely it is here,” she said.
“Maigrid hated it,” Roderick said, staring at the horizon.
“I can tell that her leaving still pains you.”
“She hurt my pride, that’s all.” He shrugged. “We weren’t suited. Ach, she even hated my grandmother.”
“Hated Seanmhair?” Lily was appalled. “I regret not slapping that woman when I had the chance.”
“Seanmhair feels much the same,” he said. “I had to talk her out of casting a spell to cover Maigrid in boils.”
Lily was laughing when Roderick turned her to face him and plucked the sprig from her hair. When she saw that it was mistletoe, she swallowed hard. She liked his grandmother, but the old woman was a sly dog.
“Seanmhair says ’tis verra, verra bad luck to refuse a kiss under mistletoe,” he said with a devilish grin. “And she knows such things.”
Lily told herself that a brief, lighthearted kiss would be harmless, but she knew it was a lie. She was playing with fire—and she didn’t care.
As he leaned toward her, her heart raced and she rose up on her toes. His lips barely brushed hers at first, and yet the kiss set off a burst of longing like the torch that exploded the bonfire into flame at the Yuletide celebration.
She held on to Roderick as if her life depended upon it as they devoured each other with hot, hungry kisses. When he backed her against the lone tree on the cliff and lifted her off her feet, she wrapped her legs around him.
Waves crashed below them, the surf echoing the storm of passion between them.Yes. Yes. Yes.His hands seemed to be everywhere at once, massaging her breasts, running along her thighs, squeezing her backside. She had missed him so much.
Roderick got control of himself first and leaned back, panting. Why did he stop? She could feel his hard shaft against her through their clothes. Oh, how she wanted him.
“My grandmother knew the moment she saw ye that you’re not the next seer,” he said. “You’ll be free to go, if ye still want to.”
