and
running off at the mouth."
His silence squeezed her
heart and she released a shuddering breath. "Damn you, Lachlan, you
make me crazy, sometimes! I told you I want you in my life. What
more do you want to hear? That I want you in m-my bed?" She sucked
in a breath to calm her nerves. "Okay. O...kay, I do. Want you in
my bed, I mean."
Expressionless, Lachlan ran
a hand over the top of his sodden hair. "Are you saying you want me
back in ma bed, lass, or in any bed wi' you?"
A strangled chuff of
laughter escaped her before she gripped the remains of the front of
his shirt. Lifting on toes immersed in mud, she calmly stated, "If
you don't kiss me now, I'm going to bury you where you
stand."
"You've graduated from
threatening ma monhood to the whole o' me?"
"Lachlan...."
He released a throaty laugh
and exuberantly threw his arms around her, molding her shivering
form against him. His possessive embrace elicited a sigh from her
and she laid one side of her face against his chest. The cold
wetness of him was barely felt as she listened to his heart. The
beat was strong, as inspirational as a symphony in a park on a warm
summer's day.
When they'd made love in
the past he didn't have a heartbeat, only a life pulse that she now
knew had been a gift from Deliah.
"I canna kiss you wi' yer
head down," he whispered.
Beth instantly looked up,
her lips parted in invitation. Her fingers kneaded the small of his
back as his head lowered with teasing slowness. But when his mouth
covered hers, she found the long hours of the past two weeks worth
the wait.
Sweetened by the rain, his
mouth moved slowly over hers, second by second becoming more
demanding until she was so completely lost in love that she had no
concept of the weather or their location. She ached with familiar
desire. It heated her blood and made her pulse quicken. In life or
death, he owned a part of her no other man could claim.
Ending the kiss abruptly,
Lachlan tilted back his head and, breathing heavily, allowed the
rain to splat against his face.
Beth watched him for a
moment and placed her right hand against his cheek. He looked down
at her, wonderment enhancing his handsome visage. His mouth quirked
with a grin as he slowly shook his head.
"We're soaked, ma Beth. I
can think o' a less no canny place to make love to you."
"Can you?"
"Aye, darlin’." He winced
comically. "I'm abou' to break through ma breeks for want o'
you."
"Sounds serious," she said
with a wicked little grin. She shuddered and released a mewl of
appreciation when his arms again enveloped her. Although he was as
wet and as cold as she was, being in his arms afforded her
psychological warmth. He gave her a hearty squeeze, then scooped
her up in his arms and gave her neck a teasing nibble as he settled
her against him.
With a laugh, she linked
her arms about his neck. "You can't carry me to the house. Not in
this mud."
"Right now, ma love, I
could fly you to our room on wings o' love."
Beth released a long,
dreamy sigh. "I love it when you get poetic."
Grinning, Lachlan started
off toward the house, his boots heavily plopping in the mud, its
thickness slowing his usual gait. To keep her in the mood for what
he hoped would be a long night of making love, he began to sing in
baritone, Tell Me How To Woo Thee, by Graham of
Gartmore.
"If doughty deeds ma lady
please,
Right soon I'll mount ma
steed:
And strong his arm, and
fast his seat,
Tha' bears from me the
meed.
I'll wear thy colors at ma
brow,
Thy picture in ma
heart;
And he tha' bends no' to
thine eye,
Shall rue it to his
smart."
He paused to blink into the
stinging rain and softly blow at the moisture on his lips. Then he
continued:
"Then tell me how to woo
thee, love,
Oh tell me how to woo
thee.
For thy dear sake, no care
I'll tak,
Though never anither trow
me—"
Lachlan grunted as his feet
went out from under him. His butt hit the boggy ground and a
splattering of mud and water sprayed up around them. He managed
running off at the mouth."
His silence squeezed her
heart and she released a shuddering breath. "Damn you, Lachlan, you
make me crazy, sometimes! I told you I want you in my life. What
more do you want to hear? That I want you in m-my bed?" She sucked
in a breath to calm her nerves. "Okay. O...kay, I do. Want you in
my bed, I mean."
Expressionless, Lachlan ran
a hand over the top of his sodden hair. "Are you saying you want me
back in ma bed, lass, or in any bed wi' you?"
A strangled chuff of
laughter escaped her before she gripped the remains of the front of
his shirt. Lifting on toes immersed in mud, she calmly stated, "If
you don't kiss me now, I'm going to bury you where you
stand."
"You've graduated from
threatening ma monhood to the whole o' me?"
"Lachlan...."
He released a throaty laugh
and exuberantly threw his arms around her, molding her shivering
form against him. His possessive embrace elicited a sigh from her
and she laid one side of her face against his chest. The cold
wetness of him was barely felt as she listened to his heart. The
beat was strong, as inspirational as a symphony in a park on a warm
summer's day.
When they'd made love in
the past he didn't have a heartbeat, only a life pulse that she now
knew had been a gift from Deliah.
"I canna kiss you wi' yer
head down," he whispered.
Beth instantly looked up,
her lips parted in invitation. Her fingers kneaded the small of his
back as his head lowered with teasing slowness. But when his mouth
covered hers, she found the long hours of the past two weeks worth
the wait.
Sweetened by the rain, his
mouth moved slowly over hers, second by second becoming more
demanding until she was so completely lost in love that she had no
concept of the weather or their location. She ached with familiar
desire. It heated her blood and made her pulse quicken. In life or
death, he owned a part of her no other man could claim.
Ending the kiss abruptly,
Lachlan tilted back his head and, breathing heavily, allowed the
rain to splat against his face.
Beth watched him for a
moment and placed her right hand against his cheek. He looked down
at her, wonderment enhancing his handsome visage. His mouth quirked
with a grin as he slowly shook his head.
"We're soaked, ma Beth. I
can think o' a less no canny place to make love to you."
"Can you?"
"Aye, darlin’." He winced
comically. "I'm abou' to break through ma breeks for want o'
you."
"Sounds serious," she said
with a wicked little grin. She shuddered and released a mewl of
appreciation when his arms again enveloped her. Although he was as
wet and as cold as she was, being in his arms afforded her
psychological warmth. He gave her a hearty squeeze, then scooped
her up in his arms and gave her neck a teasing nibble as he settled
her against him.
With a laugh, she linked
her arms about his neck. "You can't carry me to the house. Not in
this mud."
"Right now, ma love, I
could fly you to our room on wings o' love."
Beth released a long,
dreamy sigh. "I love it when you get poetic."
Grinning, Lachlan started
off toward the house, his boots heavily plopping in the mud, its
thickness slowing his usual gait. To keep her in the mood for what
he hoped would be a long night of making love, he began to sing in
baritone, Tell Me How To Woo Thee, by Graham of
Gartmore.
"If doughty deeds ma lady
please,
Right soon I'll mount ma
steed:
And strong his arm, and
fast his seat,
Tha' bears from me the
meed.
I'll wear thy colors at ma
brow,
Thy picture in ma
heart;
And he tha' bends no' to
thine eye,
Shall rue it to his
smart."
He paused to blink into the
stinging rain and softly blow at the moisture on his lips. Then he
continued:
"Then tell me how to woo
thee, love,
Oh tell me how to woo
thee.
For thy dear sake, no care
I'll tak,
Though never anither trow
me—"
Lachlan grunted as his feet
went out from under him. His butt hit the boggy ground and a
splattering of mud and water sprayed up around them. He managed
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