Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

E van paced back and forth outside Bonnie's chambers, all the frustration of the past few days clouding his mind like a thick fog. He had tried approaching her in the gardens only for her to slip away from him. He had tried talking to her in the library, in the great hall, even in the stables where he managed to corner her by chance, but Bonnie kept refusing to speak to him, either outright ignoring him and walking away or managing to evade him at the very last moment.

But now she was in her chambers. Evan had watched her enter and he had proceeded to follow, reaching the door just after she shut it.

He came to a halt, hard gaze fixed on the carved wood of the door. Vines decorated its surface, twisting and twinning in dizzying patterns. It was the first time Evan had stood there so long, staring at that door, and now he thought it was a shame that he was about to ruin it.

He took a deep breath and a few steps backwards, muscles tensing in preparation. Then, he threw himself right at the door.

A shriek sounded from inside the room, but Evan barely heard it over the buzz in his ears, the pain of the impact radiating down his right side. Maybe it hadn't been a very good idea, in retrospect, but he wasn't going to give up. With a growl, he threw himself at the door again, the hinges budging under his weight but not yet breaking. He didn't know what would break first—the door or his arm.

One last time, Evan threw himself at the door and this time, splinters flew around him as he broke both the lock and one of the hinges. At the other side, he found Bonnie standing near the bed, a candelabra clutched tightly in her hands as she stared at him, wide-eyed.

"What are ye doin'?" she demanded, voice high and thin with terror. "I thought someone was comin' tae kill me!"

"In me castle?" Evan asked in disbelief, as if the mere thought was ridiculous. "Nae one will harm ye here."

"Ye broke the door! Ye could have harmed me!"

Evan hadn't thought about that. His goal had been to get in the room, and so he did. "Aye, I suppose I could have," he admitted. "I am sorry, Bonnie. I only wished tae speak with ye."

"An' so ye decided tae break down me door?" Bonnie's cheeks were flushed a deep red, her knuckles bone-white where she was still gripping the candelabra. Slowly, she put it down and collapsed on the bed, face in her hands as she breathed deeply. "Ye scared me half tae death."

Evan looked down, avoiding her gaze. He had been so eager to talk to her that he hadn't quite thought about the consequences of breaking down the door, other than to make a mental note to have it repaired later. Now he stood by the broken door awkwardly, unsure of what to do or say.

"Well?" Bonnie asked, looking up at him. "Yer here now an' ye broke a door tae speak tae me. So speak."

Evan was there and he had Bonnie attention. And yet now that he could talk to her, the words failed him, dying in his throat before he could ever utter them. How could he explain this situation to her in a way that wouldn't make him seem even worse than he was? How could he tell her he never wanted this marriage with Medea when he couldn't even promise Bonnie, she would be the one he would marry?

Bonnie looked at him expectantly; impatiently. Evan didn't have much time before she would get fed up with him and tell him to leave.

"I . . . I didnae ken, Bonnie, I swear it," Evan said, taking a few halting steps towards her, uncertain of whether or not he should approach. "I didnae ken about the betrothal. Me council arranged it with her advisors an' they never informed me o' it. They thought once I returned, I would dae as they asked an' . . . an' I would if I hadnae met ye."

Had it not been for Bonnie, Evan would have married Medea Buchanan without any protest. It wouldn't matter to him that she was a stranger. It wouldn't matter whether or not they were compatible, whether they could be happy together. Such things had been inconsequential—at least until he met Bonnie and she showed him what true happiness meant.

"But I did meet ye," Evan continued. "I did an' I loved ye an' because o' this, I cannae marry the Lady Buchanan. Me heart is an' always will be yers. Ye can dae with it as ye please. Ye can send me away. Ye can curse me an' scream at me an' scorn me fer the rest o' yer life, but ken I will never marry her."

Bonnie stared at him in silence for so long that Evan began to think she would never speak to him again. With a defeated sigh, he turned around and made his way to the door, thinking it would be better to simply leave her be. He had told her everything he needed her to hear, and he had promised her she could now do as she wished. If what she wished was to never see him again, then Evan would have to accept it, even if the ache was so much that his feet could hardly carry him to the door.

With one last look at Bonnie, he righted the door on its hinges; one last attempt to fix what he had broken.

"Wait."

Evan paused by the door just as he was crossing it, his gaze hopeful as he turned to look at Bonnie. For a few moments, though, she remained silent. She didn't know what she wanted to say to him. She only knew she didn't want him to go.

"Ye will nae wed her?"

It was all Bonnie could bring herself to ask. None of this mattered if this was just another lie, if Evan's council managed to convince him to go through with the wedding in the end. Evan was not a weak man, prone to outside influence, allowing others to dictate his actions, but at the same time, his sense of duty was so strong that Bonnie couldn't help but fear he would rather sacrifice himself, his happiness, their love than risk anything happening to his clan.

And it was that which filled her with guilt—knowing Evan was trying to do the best for his people and still being filled with this fury that gnawed at her insides ever since she had found out the truth.

She shouldn't be happy that he would refuse to wed that woman. She shouldn't find joy in the fact that he was letting down his council, his people.

Evan shook his head. "I willnae wed her. Ye have me word."

There was no mention of a wedding between the two of them, though. Evan wouldn't wed the Lady Buchanan, but he also wouldn't promise Bonnie she would become his bride.

Even so, nothing could stop her as she stood and approached Evan, a hand cradling his cheek to pull him into a tender kiss. In an instant, Evan's arms were around her waist, pulling her close and clinging onto her as though she was the only thing that kept him upright.

"Forgive me, mo ghraidh ," Evan whispered against her lips. "Forgive me. I never meant tae hurt ye like this."

There was no doubt in Bonnie's mind Evan was telling her the truth, but that didn't lessen the ache of their reality. Could it be that she could never truly have him? Could it be that even after he refused to marry the Lady Buchanan, his council would still forbid him to marry Bonnie?

It seemed more likely than she wanted to think. It was no secret that his council didn't approve of her as an option and they made it clear to her, even without outright admitting it to her face. Padraig, one of his advisors, asked her when she would be leaving every time he saw her—a less than welcoming thing to do.

Bonnie didn't want to think about any of that, though, not when Evan's lips were soft and warm against hers, his hands holding possessively onto her waist. Even if it was only for a short while, she wanted to be lost in the fantasy of being his. Even for a short while, she wanted to believe it—she wanted it to be as real as it could be.

"Make love tae me," she mumbled as they kissed. Moaning softly into the kiss, Evan kicked the door shut as well as he could, small gaps forming between it and the frame as it failed to close. Picking her up, he carried Bonnie to the bed and she wrapped her legs around him, holding on, never once breaking their fevered kiss.

Evan laid Bonnie on the bed gently, crawling over her as they both settled on the mattress. She was completely surrounded by him and his warmth, his weight a comforting pressure over her, helping her push any other thought away from her mind. Nothing else mattered but the two of them in that moment, twined together on her sheets, reaching to each other for whatever they could get.

As he undressed her, slipping her dress off her shoulders, Evan's hands were soft, gentle, moving with deliberate slowness. Inch by inch, he bared her skin and followed the path of his hands with his lips, his kisses leaving goosebumps in their wake. Bonnie gasped, breath catching in her throat, her body arching off the bed as she sought out the drag of his lips over her skin, the drag of his beard. It left a slight sting behind, one that drove her mad with lust.

"Evan," Bonnie said in a soft moan, her fingers carding through his dark hair. She could feel him getting impatient, his hands tugging insistently at her dress as he tried to take it off her, laughing softly in triumph once he finally had her naked.

He wasted no time before he descended upon her once more, tongue dragging hotly over the swell of her breast before the tip swirled the hardened nub of her nipple. Bonnie could not look away from him, mesmerized by the sight of him as he grazed his teeth over her sensitive skin, her fingers curling in the strands of his hair to tug gently at it, just to feel his rumbling groan as it reverberated through her. Already, warmth pooled deep in her stomach, her desire coursing through her, wetness gathering in her core, and Evan's groan deepened as his thigh pressed against her, feeling that liquid heat.

"Already wet fer me?" Evan asked, grabbing Bonnie's waist as she writhed against him, shuddering with every brush of her sensitive spot against the heated skin of his thigh under his kilt as she rolled her hips. She would have thought his words mocking had he not sounded just as affected as she felt, his voice rough and gravelly, thick with desire. On her own thigh, she felt the rigid length of Evan's manhood growing thicker and she couldn't help but reach for him, slipping her hand under the kilt.

When she wrapped her fingers around him, stroking him firmly once, Evan gasped, his forehead coming to rest against hers. Bonnie stared into his eyes, tongue darting out to wet her lips before Evan captured them in a kiss, her other hand insistently tugging at his shirt in a silent plea for him to undress.

Reluctantly, Evan peeled himself away from her, quickly tossing all of his clothes on the floor carelessly. The moment he was done with the last layer, he was on top of Bonnie once more, refusing to stay away from her for any longer than necessary.

Not for the first time, Bonnie was distracted by the sight of him before her, hands reaching out to touch before she could even realize what she was doing. Her tender touch as she dragged the tips of her fingers over the ridged wall of muscles that was Evan's stomach drew a sigh of pleasure out of him, one that deepened when she scraped her nails just under his navel. His length twitched in response, flushed and leaking as Bonnie wrapped her fingers around him once more to stroke the feverish flesh, losing herself in the soft moans he made. She loved watching him, listening to him as he gave in to pleasure, and she loved even more knowing that she was the source of it.

"Me love," Evan whispered as he buried his face in Bonnie's neck, sucking the sensitive skin there between his lips as he thrusted lazily in her fist. His hands stroked her hair, her jaw, her shoulders, running over her breasts and the dip of her waist in an almost reverent manner, as if Evan was trying to map every inch of her in his mind. For the first time, neither of them was in a hurry; they were content simply enjoying each other's touch, each other's proximity, Bonnie's need stoked and intense, but simmering just under the surface.

It was as though neither of them wanted this to end.

Slowly, Evan rolled onto his back, settling against the pillows and pulling Bonnie in his lap. For a moment, he only looked at her, pushing her brown hair over her shoulders until it cascaded down her back. Another teasing touch then, fingers ghosting over her body and coming to rest on her mound, giving Bonnie a moment of anticipation before Evan circled her sensitive spot with his thumb, drawing a desperate cry from her. As she straddled his hips, she couldn't resist the urge to roll hers, seeking the friction of his manhood against her folds, her wetness leaving Evan's length slicked and throbbing with desire.

"Please," she said, and Evan was quick to indulge her, taking himself in his hand to guide his length in her entrance. The first contact stole all the air from Bonnie's lungs, forcing her to brace herself on Evan's shoulders as he breached her.

And then, he looked up at her with a teasing smirk, simply waiting.

Bonnie decided right then and there that she was going to wipe that smirk off his face. Just as slowly as he had moved, just as teasingly, Bonnie sank onto his length, taking him inside her inch by inch until she was fully seated on his manhood. Just as she had wished, that smirk had been replaced by an expression of raw desire, Evan's gaze glazed and his lips parted, his breath coming in pants as he stared at her, his hands leaving marks on her hips. She felt him pulse where he was buried in her core, already close to reaching his climax.

She could hardly blame him. Her body throbbed around him, the stretch of her sensitive flesh as she accommodated his girth quickly bringing her closer to the edge. As Bonnie began to move, holding onto Evan's chest as she rode him, his gaze flitted between the place where they were joined, watching as his manhood disappeared inside her, and the bounce of her breasts as she picked up speed. Then, he glanced to the side and Bonnie followed his gaze over her shoulder to see their reflection in the looking-glass in the corner of the room. She saw herself, her skin flushed all the way to her chest, her breasts engulfed in Evan's large palms as he reached for her, pinching her nipples between thumb and forefinger to draw a moan out of her. She saw the arch of her back, the swell of her buttocks, and under her, she saw Evan, illuminated by the soft light of the evening sun that streamed in through the windows, looking like a statue carefully chiseled by a loving hand.

Pulling her gaze back to Evan, Bonnie met his eyes, keeping the eye contact as she rolled her hips in a slow, sensual rhythm. There was no part of her that wasn't filled by him, the honeyed drag of him against her walls a sweet torture like no other.

Bonnie's moans turned high and needy as every thrust brought her closer to her climax. Evan's fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips while her nails painted crescents on his shoulders, desperately holding on as one of Evan's hands slid from her hip to stroke her, thumb matching the rhythm of her movements. It didn't take long for Bonnie's pleasure to crest over her, rushing like fire in her veins and setting her entire body aflame. She couldn't help but quiver as her core pulsed and throbbed, her opening clenching hard down on Evan's length and pulling his own climax out of him within moments.

Afterwards, Bonnie sat there, still straddling Evan's hips, trying to catch her breath. Wrapping his arms around her, Evan pulled her over his chest and Bonnie went easily, nuzzling into his neck.

"Everythin' will work out, me love," said Evan in a reassuring tone, though Bonnie didn't know if he was saying it for her sake or his. "I promise."

An' yet, still nae mention o' marriage.

Perhaps Bonnie was expecting too much. Perhaps it would be better if she stopped hoping, if she let go of any expectations and simply accepted whatever ended up happening in the end. After all, there was no changing Evan's mind if he had already decided he didn't want to wed her.

She only wished she didn't have to think about changing his mind in the first place.