She finally understood it wasn’t food he was hungry for.
Finlay found his way underneath her skirts, and attended to her in ways she never thought possible.
She gasped as first his fingers found her, followed by his mouth, making love to her and causing new, wonderful sensations. She was soon riding the crest of the wave, before he returned to her, framing her face in his arms as he moved her skirts aside and slid into her. They swayed with a natural rocking that seemed in time with the tune of the nature around them. His lips gently loved hers as he moved inside of her, soon finding his own release.
They lay together afterward on their backs, the plaid wrapped around them for warmth with the birds circling above them, the wind whispering through the leaves and the grasses, the pond’s water rippling from the soft breeze.
Kyla closed her eyes to the sounds of the forest, reveling in Finlay’s warmth next to her, his strong bicep underneath her head.
“This is heaven,” she said lazily, looking over at him. His brow was unfurrowed, his eyes closed. Even the lines around his mouth seemed to have diminished. He truly seemed at peace here, and it gladdened her soul that he had left behind the worries of his responsibility for a moment to rest.
They stayed that way for some time before he finally rose and actually did fetch food from the satchel on Hurley. Finlay laid out the oatcakes and cheese in front of them, laughing as he fed her, picking up the crumbs that fell off her skirt.
When the time came to continue on their path, they both looked around them longingly, reluctant to leave the sanctuary that had enveloped them, for a few moments at least.
“Time to go,” he said.
“We can come back any day, though,” she said hopefully.
“Yes, but then we may never leave,” he replied with a laugh. “We would have to build another home here.”
She smiled at him as they mounted their horses and left the clearing, which, she realized, would never be solely hers alone again. They had marked it as theirs now, and she was surprised that she was actually just fine with the thought.
“You know,” she said thoughtfully as they rode next to one another, trotting carefully to avoid the branches that stretched out toward them. She reached over and picked a twig out of Finlay’s hair. “There may be a way to create even more efficiencies.”
“You’re thinking business again, after the way we spent our time back there?”
“I’m sorry. My mind is always moving. Actually, what we did gave me an idea.”
“I’m listening,” he said, and Kyla sensed a slight bit of wariness mixed with intrigue at what she might have come up with.
“What if we were to amalgamate the lands of the McDougalls and the MacTavishes?” she said, speaking quickly before he had time to interrupt and shut down her idea before she even began. “Do you think the people would agree to it? Would they live side-by-side, working together? If they would, then we could truly find the best ways to plant, to grow, to harvest, and to raise the livestock and sheep.”
He reined in his horse and took a long look at her. Kyla was somewhat hopeful by the fact that his expression was thoughtful, his lips slightly parted as he blinked at her.
“I’m not sure I’ve heard that done before,” he said slowly.
“And why could we not be the first to try? We are united by marriage now. Perhaps we could take one step further,” she said, becoming more excited about the idea. “Rory certainly will never be able to manage our lands, which you know as well as I do. Perhaps we could manage both of them, together. We would just have to convince our fathers that it is the right move.”
“And convince me,” he said.
“Pardon?” she looked over at him.
“This is your idea, Kyla, not mine,” he said, though his tone was gentle. “I’m not sure yet if I agree with it.”
“But—”
“I listened to you this morning, aye, and many of your ideas are intriguing and we will put them into practice. However, I still make the final decisions here, and I don’t know if this is one I would like to make. I need to think on it.”
Kyla looked straight ahead, ire simmering in her stomach, her dismay growing. Every time she thought they had made progress, that they were getting somewhere together as husband and wife, as business partners, they would take a step backward. For a man who was apparently supposed to lead them all into the present, Finlay couldn’t seem to move out of the past.
It was trying, and she didn’t know how much longer she could keep this up, this playing with her emotions. They were over halfway through her promised three months. There were moments when she wanted nothing more than to stay with him as his wife. Moments like the night before, when they were truly on the same page, with one mind. Or this morning as they worked together, or just now, in the trees. Then he would say something, do something, that would try at her patience and make her question this marriage all over again.
He looked over at her in resignation.
“I’ve done it again, haven’t I?” he asked.
“Done what?”
“Upset you.”
“Aye, of course you have,” she said with a snort. “What do you expect? I never know what to anticipate from you, Finlay. You listen, but then you turn me down. You promise we are partners, but then you tell me you alone are making decisions. It’s difficult to know what is coming next. Sometimes I will be upset. That’s the way it is.”
“Aye, that’s something I’m learning,” he said. “It would be much easier if you would just do as I say, as most wives do for their husbands.”
“And what would be the
