Chapter 19

19

T he ruins of the small castle had one small section that was kept private for Keira, and she treasured it. Sometimes, when the wind was blowing its hardest, driving stinging raindrops before it, she would come to the top of the highest turret, look out over the sea, and dream. She rarely visited the tower on a calm day or a sunny one because she preferred to see the sea in its wildest, angriest moods.

Today it was a stern blue-grey, the crests of its restless waves whipped into what looked like the manes of white horses by the scouring wind. The sky was a mass of lowering, bruise-colored clouds that heralded the approach of a violent storm, but Keira loved the storms. She felt wild and free, as if she could do anything. On days like this she almost felt able to fly like the gulls and terns that were sweeping the sky as she watched. Sometimes she envied them, as she did now. They could look down on the troubles of ordinary human beings like herself and laugh at them. What did they care if those two-legged earthbound creatures fought and killed each other? They had no such worries.

Keira sighed. She felt overwhelmed with happiness now that her father was out of her life forever, but she felt a little calmer today, content instead of euphoric. She did not have to look far to see the source of all her happiness, for he was standing not thirty feet below her, up to his knees in seawater.

Murdoch Holmes.

"Why are you mine?" she said aloud. "I do not deserve you. You will never know how much I love you, Murdoch Holmes. Men are so blind!" Then she laughed as she watched him slipping on the wet stones and landing on his backside, cursing.

Keira was so immersed in admiring Murdoch that she did not notice that the rain had started until it began to run down her cheeks. She hastily dashed it away and watched, fascinated, as Murdoch bent down and hauled a net full of shellfish out of the waves.

One of the little girls in the settlement, who looked about twelve years old, brought him a cup of ale.

"Thank you, Ailie!' he said gratefully, smiling at him. "How did you know I was dying of thirst?"

"Ma said ye would be," Ailie answered shyly.

"You are a good girl," Murdoch said, and he thanked her with a kiss on her cheek.

Even from the considerable distance between them, Keira could see that she was blushing as she turned and ran back to the main building. Now there would be a story to tell her friends tonight!

Keira chuckled softly at the sweet interaction between the big man and the little girl. As the rain began to fall more heavily, Keira sighed and went downstairs. She wanted to sit down with a cup of warm milk and do nothing for a while. She wanted to chase every thought out of her head, sleep, and dream happy dreams.

Accordingly, she filled a pot with milk from the pitcher and set it over the fire to warm up while she lay on a soft cushion and watched it as her mind emptied and her body relaxed. Her eyes drifted closed.

She was abruptly startled out of her slumber when a heavy hand landed on her shoulder and she heard a familiar voice saying urgently, "Your milk is boiling over!"

Murdoch wrapped a cloth around his hand and snatched the pot from the fire as the milk poured over the sides, hissing and spitting, then he put the vessel on the floor. He stood up and frowned at her, intending to reprimand her, but as he looked at her face and her eyes twinkled as she gazed at him, he chuckled. How could he ever be angry with her?

"Thank you, Murdoch," Keira said tiredly. "You know how clumsy I am. That was very stupid of me."

Murdoch poured the milk into a cup and offered it to Keira, feeling how cold her fingers were as their hands touched. He squatted down beside her and put his arms around her, hearing her sigh with contentment.

His mind went back to the first day they had met in the pinewood, the crackle of attraction that had passed between them as they walked toward each other. His manhood had sprung to life at once, and he had felt an urgent need to sweep Keira into his arms and kiss her senseless right there and then. He had managed to resist, but now that time had passed, he was finding it more and more difficult to do so. She was everything he had ever wanted in a woman. She was perfect.

As he sat down, Murdoch watched her taking her first sip of the milk, loving the way she rubbed her lips together then licked the corners of her mouth. He almost growled with desire but resisted the impulse, although his body disobeyed him and surged to attention as he caught the scent of her skin. There was no perfume, or even anything as humble as lavender water, just the plain earthy smell of her, but it might as well have been one of the most exquisite French fragrances ever concocted.

"You look tired. Perhaps you should take a rest tomorrow," he suggested. "It is Sunday."

"No. Sunday is just another day here," she pointed out, yawning then smiling. "I cannot sit idly by while everyone else works."

"You are the leader here," he pointed out. "And you have been working harder than anyone else I know. It is time you were good to yourself, Keira."

Keira looked into his shining green eyes for a moment. She knew she could look into them forever and never become tired of it. What a beautiful man he was, and how long it had taken her to know how much she loved him. At that thought, her body began to respond to him in its most primitive way, and suddenly she was flushed, sensitive, and wet in a very inconvenient place.

She snapped her gaze away from him quickly and took a deep draft of her milk. "I have no wish to be a leader," she told him.

"Then what do you want to be, Keira?" he asked softly.

I want to be your wife, she thought.

She was not the kind of woman on whom the responsibilities of hearth, home, and children would sit well, yet for Murdoch, could she be all of those things? Somehow she knew that he would not want to tame her wildness, and he would allow her the same amount of freedom as he, a man, would expect as his right.

They stared at each other, each of them seemingly unable to look away, before Keira sighed and shook her head in complete exasperation.

"I just want our people to be happy," she replied at last. "I don't care who is the leader as long as they take care of everyone and keep them safe."

She took another draft of her milk and stared into the fire.

"I can help you to do that." His deep, gravelly voice was gentle as he spoke, and it flowed over her like warm honey.

Keira had never felt the urge to be so close to any human being as she did now. The arms around her were big and muscular as opposed to her long, soft woman's ones. How different they were, and how good it felt to be close and held tightly against his hard chest. She was safe here, she knew it, and after the mayhem they had both managed to navigate through during the past weeks, she needed to feel secure. They both did.

Keira snuggled further into his chest and murmured, "And how can you do that?" she asked. "Perhaps we could build a big wall and put archers on top of it?" Her voice was teasing.

"Yes," he replied, with a soft smile. "We can do that, but a wall will take months to build. We are a scattered people here. We have not much organization, not much shelter, and only a few fortifications. The only thing that makes us safe is your deal with the other lairds."

"You mean the Allens?" Keira asked.

"Yes," Murdoch replied, kissing her long red hair.

"Their castle is a long way away," she replied, "and although he is a decent man, I do not think we can rely on his support alone."

"Then I propose two strategies." He moved closer to her and held his hands out to the fire. "I suggested a while ago that our little band here should form ourselves into our own clan. You were hesitant then. What do you think now?"

"I think we should do it," she replied instantly. "But with you as its leader, not me."

He nodded slowly. "I have no fear of leadership," he answered. "But I do want to be chosen, not to thrust myself into that exalted position." He grinned self-consciously.

"If only you could see yourself as others see you, Murdoch," Keira observed sadly. "Everybody wants to follow you because they respect you and have faith in you. You are the only one who does not see it."

Murdoch raked his fingers back through his wheat-blond hair, making it stand up in spiky disarray, almost like a little boy's. He looked, if anything, even more attractive than usual, and Keira could not resist putting out a hand to straighten a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

Murdoch laughed softly and removed her hand, then looked at her palm, running his thumb over it. It was hard and calloused with the constant labor of lifting stones, but he admired it more than he had when it was the soft, well-manicured hand of a pampered lady.

"Your hands have changed," he remarked.

"Yes," she agreed, "but I like them better like this."

When he looked up at her again, there was a deep tenderness in his expression. His lips parted, and his gaze dropped to hers.

Keira felt herself beginning to tense up, and a strange tingling began all over her body. Murdoch dropped his mouth to her palm and kissed it gently, causing a shaft of pleasure to shoot straight to her core.

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

"Do you not like it?" he asked softly, flicking a mischievous smile at her.

"I do," she confessed. "But no one has ever done that to me before."

"But we have kissed before," he reminded her.

He was now so close that she could see every one of the golden bristles on his face and feel his breath on her skin. His lower lip was full and rounded, almost like a ripe plum, and Keira longed to taste it again.

Her wish was granted a few moments later as he dipped his head and took her mouth in a soft yet incredibly sensual kiss. She opened her lips to him and once again they began their dance of tongues, and he explored the sweetness of Keira's mouth until she thought she would die of pleasure. She tilted her head back and surrendered to him completely, moaning with delight.

Murdoch was so aroused that he would have taken Keira at that moment if she had consented. However, they were lying on the floor of a mean little room with nothing but a small cushion between Keira and the hard floor. It was neither the place nor the time for them to be intimate. Murdoch wanted Keira's first time with him to be in a beautiful bed with perfumed sheets so that he could press her into its soft mattress as he gave her all the pleasure she deserved.

Oh, God, what am I going to do without her if she marries someone else? he thought, suddenly panicking.

He tore his mouth away from hers and said desperately, "Marry me, Keira. I cannot live without you. You are the most wonderful woman I have ever met, and I love you. Say yes, please."

His words were a desperate plea.

Keira was shocked at the suddenness of his proposal, but as she looked up into Murdoch's hopeful pale-green eyes, she knew that there was only one answer. She loved him, and she would love him until her dying day.

She felt her face stretching into a smile as she whispered, "What else can I say, Murdoch? Yes. You are the only man I will ever want, and I love you too."

He leaned his forehead against hers and tightened his arms around her, gathering her so closely that she could hardly breathe.

"I think you should loosen your grip a little," she suggested, laughing. "You might kill me before the wedding." She could have stayed there all day listening to the steady thud of his heartbeat with his chin resting on the top of her head.

"I am so sorry, I was a little carried away!"

Keira let out a sigh of utter contentment and heard his laugh rumble through his chest as he heard her.

"You are sighing. Tired of me already?" he asked, twitching a smile.

"Never," she answered, tilting her face up for another kiss. "It was a happy sigh. Kiss me again."

"Yes, milady," he laughed.

He was only too happy to oblige, and once more they became lost in each other. He knew that from now on he was going to find it very difficult to keep his hands to himself when his betrothed was around him. Every time she came too close to him, he knew he would feel the urge to hold her again.

When they broke the kiss, Keira traced a line around the outside of his lips with her forefingers, frowning.

"You told me about one of your strategies but not the other."

"But I did," he replied, cupping her face in his hands. "I want to unite all of us into a clan of our own, starting with you and me. So we must marry. But we will need a clan name since there is a Holmes clan already."

"Let us discuss it with the others," Keira suggested. "I have no doubt that we will find something to call ourselves!"

"There is another thorny problem that needs our attention," Murdoch reminded her, grinning. "Where shall we be wed? The nearest church is miles away."

Keira laughed merrily. "I hardly think that is an insurmountable problem, my darling."

Her voice sounded carefree. Everything was right in her world. Well…not quite. It would only be perfect when Murdoch was lying in her bed making her his.

"Well, my Keira," Murdoch said gently, "let us start the way we mean to go on. Everyone must have a voice since we are a community, and that voice must be listened to. Agree?"

She nodded, then gave him a mischievous grin. "And when we have heard everyone's voice, I demand that you listen to mine."

"Of course," Murdoch agreed.

"When the meeting is finished, we will come back here for more kisses," Keira commanded. "For I find that I enjoy them very much!"

Her wish was granted, and a few seconds later, she was enjoying another one.