Page 103 of A Bride for the Icy Highlander
The door slammed shut behind them, leaving Kian and Abigail alone once more in the silence, save for the echo of retreating footsteps.
Kian’s arm never left her. He wasn’t ready to let go. Not now, not ever. He held her close.
Her cheek rested against his shoulder, her breathing still uneven. He tilted her face gently, brushing his thumb over the smudge of dirt on her temple.
Her eyes, though tired, sparkled with that same fire that always stirred something fierce in his chest.
“How did ye ken to come?” she asked softly.
Kian gave a low chuckle and kissed her brow. “I heard something crash. Thought maybe ye’d tripped over yer feet, but then I heard a voice in the corridor that didnae belong.”
Abigail chuckled and leaned back just enough to meet his eye. “So, I suppose it’s a good thing ye put me in a room next to yers.”
“Aye,” he said with a crooked grin. “And that I didnae return to the healer’s chambers, as ye kept barkin’ at me to do.”
“Yer stubborn ways saved me,” she murmured, resting her hand over his heart.
He caught it, pressing her palm to the steady thrum beneath his ribs. “If I’d come a minute later?—”
“But ye didnae,” she cut in. “Ye came for me, like ye always have.”
His hand slid up her back, threading into her hair as he looked down at her. “God, Abigail… I cannae stand the thought of losin’ ye. When I heard her voice, I kenned it was her. I kenned she came to hurt ye.”
Abigail’s eyes shimmered, but her lips curled into a smile. “And ye stormed in like a wild boar.”
“I’d tear down the whole castle if it meant gettin’ to ye,” he said hoarsely.
She laughed again, the sound like warmth after frost. “Och, ye daft man.”
He didn’t answer her with words. Instead, he lowered his head and caught her lips in a fierce, deep kiss that conveyed every unsaid fear, every breathless relief, every ounce of love between them.
Her arms twined around his neck, pulling him closer. His hands cupped her face, holding her like she was something precious and breakable.
The kiss deepened, hungry and slow, as though they’d both forgotten the world outside the door. At that moment, it was only them. No past, no danger, just the thrum of hearts and the heat of longing.
When they finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, Kian rested his forehead against hers, smiling lovingly.
“Stay in me bedchamber tonight,” he said.
“Aye,” she whispered. “Someone has to watch over ye.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“What is that?” Abigail asked.
The bells rang loudly, the sound echoing through the door to Kian’s chambers.
Abigail rushed to the window, her heart pounding in her chest. One glance at the procession approaching the open gate, and her face lit up with joy.
“Marissa has arrived!” she exclaimed.
Kian braced himself against the carved wooden chair, still stiff from his wound. Abigail moved to his side, gently supporting his weight as he straightened.
“Come,” she said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “We must go down to meet them.”
“I’d do anything for ye, bunny,” he murmured, his gaze fond but wary. “But I confess, I’m afraid yer sister would snap at me.”
Abigail smiled up at him, brushing a lock of his hair from his face. “She’ll grow to like ye, same as I did.”
