But she had seen the other side to him, the side that cared. About her, about his family, about his people. It wasn’t just the gentle vulnerability of this evening, but the way he always did what was best for others who needed him.
It was what drew him to her, and it made her see the goodness inside of him. Besides what she felt about his character, she knew she could no longer deny the fact that she wanted him. She desired this man—her husband—with a yearning she had never felt before. That he was here, wanting her in the same way, made her realize that there was only one answer.
She lifted a hand, softly running her fingers over that furrowed gaze, wishing she could take away all of his worries.
“Aye,” she said, hearing the desperation in her voice. “I want this, Finlay—I want you.”
* * *
It was all he needed to hear as he lowered his head and kissed her with the passion of a man who was finally finding the treasure he had sought for so long.
He eased her back onto the bed, freeing her from the rest of her nightclothes as he did so. He took a moment to sit back and truly admire her. She was beautiful—all of her—from the top of her sun-kissed hair down her slim, strong rider’s body, to her perfectly formed toes, her soft skin like satin beneath his fingertips.
His entire life, Finlay had loved this woman from afar. He now realized that for so many years he had more so loved the idea of her, and saw now how different it was to want the real woman for who she was and all she was to him.
He knew her now, so much better than before. He knew who she was, what she stood for, what had meaning for her. He also knew she didn’t love him back and probably never would. But she seemed to care for him, and there didn’t seem to be any question that he desired her in equal measure, and that would have to be enough. Where he was an ice sculpture, she was the heat of the flame that had slowly melted his resolve with her dancing light and he could not deny this moment any longer.
He, of course, had always wished for her, but had never dreamed it to be possible. Now the moment he had waited his entire life for was here, in front of him, and it was so much better than he ever could have dreamed it to be.
He readied her for him, stroking her in the most intimate of places, loving the rapture on her face as she responded to what he was doing to her. Her eyes flew open, and she suddenly seemed to realize that he was still clothed. She ripped at his garments, clumsily undoing his belt and tugging down the kilt so he was as naked as she.
It seemed that she could take what he was doing to her no longer, for she reached up and stroked him as he did her, drawing him closer to her. He couldn’t wait anymore.
“Are you ready?” he asked her, hearing his breath coming in quick gasps.
“More than you know,” she responded with a sly grin, though her expression changed to one of breathlessness as he gently slid himself into her, easing in slowly as he filled her.
She gasped and he stilled when she winced, hating himself for hurting her but unable to do anything except try to ease it for her. He was about to ask her if she wanted to stop, but then she arched her back and moved her hips against his. He took that as his sign to continue, and began moving back and forth with her, physically showing her the love that he knew he would always feel for her but would likely never be able to put into words.
What started out as a gentle rocking soon turned into a passionate back and forth as they lost themselves in one another and in the desire that overtook them.
When Kyla cried out his name, Finlay was lost, and found his own release in time with her. He squeezed his eyes tight as sensations he never knew were possible rippled through him, until he finally collapsed on top of her, just managing to hold himself above her on his forearms. Taking a breath, he rolled to his side to take his weight off of her, keeping one arm clasped tightly around her waist. She turned over and snuggled up next to him, and he savored the feeling of her next to him. Holding her close, he soon fell into a content, dreamless sleep.
13
The next morning, Finlay woke to the knock on the door before Kyla did. He took a moment to look down at her, so content in her slumber, her blonde hair spread around her on the pillow giving her the look of an angel.
He smiled as he eased himself out of bed so as not to wake her, wrapped a plaid around his waist, and pulled the door open a crack to see who was on the other side. He came nose-to-nose with his brother, whose sly grin was wide and laughing.
“Finlay, you animal,” said Roderick, not seemingly to care who could hear him as he was apparently delighted to find his brother in Kyla’s room. “I went looking for you this morning,” he said. “Not finding you in your bedroom, your bed unmade, I was hoping to find you here. I am quite pleased about this turn of events. It’s about time—”
“Quiet, Roderick, Kyla is still sleeping,” he said, shushing him. He didn’t need the entire castle knowing the two of them were holed up in her bedroom. Sure, they were husband and wife but it seemed all the family—and those who
