A Year and a Day (46 page)

“Cait, what’s wrong?” Ewan asked, his voice so warm and full of worry that she was almost soothed- almost.

“Just let me leave!” she cried, hiding her face in her hands since it was clear that Ewan wouldn’t let her get away. “It would have been better if I’d never come back at all.”

“Better if…? You’re crazy!” Ewan gasped. Against her will, he tipped her chin toward him.

“But you said…” Cait protested weakly, unable to put up much resistance when she was caught in Ewan’s gaze.

“Good, God, woman!” Ewan gasped, “You don’t think I was talking about you earlier?” he exclaimed. “How much did you overhear?” He didn’t give her time to answer. Instead, he bent over her to bestow a worshipful kiss. “I was talking about Lady
MacMillan
,” he explained, “I was saying that I wished that Muira had never talked me into denying my heart. I…I love you Cait. I think that I always have. There could never be anyone else.”

Cait’s face was wet with tears, but her eyes were suddenly shining. Wonder mingled with disbelief in her eyes. “You…you don’t mean that!” she finally sniffled.

“Don’t I?” Ewan growled, scooping her into his arms in a single, powerful motion. Cait squealed as he hefted her into the air. “Shall I prove to you that I mean it?”

Yes!

Cait felt like yelling her reply as every neglected nerve ending in her body shivered with anticipation. She felt like a flower, warmed by the sun, slowly unfurling its petals in the warmth of Ewan’s smile.

“Silent?” Ewan asked, his confidence wavering slightly.

He started to set her down. Then, seized with panic at the notion that he might release her, she blurted: “Please!”

toward the double oak doors that led into his
room. A small, mischievous part of him wanted to make her beg, but the rest of him, the better part, couldn’t bear to waste the time. Smiling to himself, feeling as though he was walking on air, Ewan kicked the doors closed behind them, and then tossed Cait into the centre of the bed.

The chamber was so beautifully candlelit and stuffed with roses that it looked like a bridal chamber- which, of course, it was- Ewan mused. He quickly shuffled
Mary
out of his mind and concentrated on Cait. Looking down on her, sprawled in the centre of the mattress, he couldn’t begin to imagine anyone else.

She was so tiny! The large bed fairly swallowed her little body. Ewan was struck by how insubstantial she looked. He couldn’t imagine her able to fed for herself outside the castle walls. Perhaps that was what made him accept that he had lost her? She had survived, however. There was steel beneath the softness. It hurt him that she had gone away, but the fact that she had been so strong- strong enough not just survive, but to thrive- left him fairly bursting with pride.

Moving slowly, Ewan crawled onto the bed beside her, desperate to touch her, but wanting to take things slowly. “My pretty Cait,” he whispered, reaching out to stroke her cheek, “My beauty.”

“Ewan,” she whispered back, and treated him to another shy smile.

He wanted to see her- all of her, all of the beauty that he’d been denied. Now, however, wound together in the darkness, he started to lose his nerve. A bit of self-consciousness settled in, reminding him of the gap of months since he had held her last.

Where was he meant to begin? Ewan felt like a young, fumbling virgin as he willed his fingers to work and claim their prize. Cait didn’t resist when he finally found the nerve to stroke his hands down her side. He traced his fingers over her hips and belly, then reached up again to cup her breasts.

Her body had altered slightly. It was softer than it had been before, and slightly more voluptuous. He supposed that the change had been wrought by their child, and while he appreciated the results, he hated the reminder of everything that he had missed.

Despite his good fortune in finding Cait again, Ewan couldn’t help feeling faintly cheated too. He had been robbed of her comfort for more than a year.

He hated that he hadn’t seen her pregnant. Ewan groaned with arousal and regret as the images sprang to his mind. He splayed his fingers on Cait’s flat belly, brushing tenderly over the fabric of her skirt as he imagined how it had been a few months before: swollen and bulging around the little life she had carried in her womb.

Ewan fairly ached to go back in time and recapture the moments. He wanted to lie behind her, arms curled around her waist, feeling their baby moving beneath her skin, knowing that a part of them both was joined forever. His body tightened at the notion. He would have to get her pregnant again as soon as possible, he thought, and a wicked smile curved onto his lips.

“What are you thinking?” Cait asked shyly.

Ewan smiled in response, and bent forward to dap a string of kisses beneath her ear. He didn’t quite trust himself to answer the question, and so he settled for a demonstration instead. He moved the hand that had settled on her stomach until it was cradling one of her breasts. He groped it through the thick wool of her dress, already yearning to touch her bare skin, and listened for the Caitch of her breath. “Do you like that?” he queried.

“You have to ask?”

“I’m out of practice,” Ewan answered.

Cait moaned quietly and lifted her own hands to Ewan’s face. “Well, we’ll have to see what we can do about that.”

“Aye,” Ewan whispered, closing his eyes as the sheer relief of having her began to sink in. He pulled her tight against his chest, content with merely stroking her for a while, palming heavily over her skin as he relearnt the hollows and swells of her beautiful form. “I missed you so much he groaned.”

“I missed you too,” Cait’s voice nearly broke as she spoke the words. It was strange, but the enormity of what she’d lost was only now beginning to sink in. What a fool she had been to leave! How lucky she was to be forgiven. “Oh, Ewan, I’m so-!”

“Shhhhh!” he whispered, laying a finger against her lips and then quickly following with his own mouth. He didn’t want to hear her apologies. He didn’t want to hear anything but the rasp of her breath and the wet slap of skin against skin as he claimed her once again. “You’re mine now,” he whispered, when he finally trusted that he had kissed her into silence and drew away.

Cait nodded dreamily. She didn’t resist when Ewan’s fingers rooted at the front of her gown. He tugged loose the laces, and then stripped the bodice away, leaving her in her chemise and skirt.

“My beautiful, perfect girl,” he puffed, continuing his work of peeling away her clothes. He finally succeeded in removing her skirt, and then dipped to kiss her lips soundly once again. His own body was aroused nearly to the point of pain, but he wanted to hold back a little longer- to savour what he had finally regained.

Ewan had never tended her so carefully: covering every inch of her exquisite body in tender kisses before he even moved to remove his own clothes. As soon as he was naked, Cait reached for him, but he intercepted her hands and pushed them aside. “Not tonight,” he breathed against her ear.

Cait whimpered in concerned confusion, earining another kiss.

“It’s your turn,” Ewan whispered. Tonight, he only wanted to show her how much he missed her- how much he loved her.

He had never loved her so slowly. Time wound down to a crawl as he continued to worship her, only gradually arranging his body between the cradle of her legs. “I wanted this so badly,” he told her, “Needed it.” There had been no one but Cait. He couldn’t account for it. As soon as he’d had her, everyone else had faded to insignificance. The moments that he shared with Cait, around her and inside her, were as different from his other encounters as fire was to ice.

Cait shuddered when he nudged against her, giving him assurance that she was as needy and hungry as he. She was so wet! Ewan groaned as the head of his
sex
bobbed against her opening. He dragged it through the
hot folds
, before he bucked against her again. “I want…” he started to confess, but didn’t get a chance to answer. Cait wrapped her arms around his neck and dragged him toward her.

“I need this now,” Cait finished for him, “Ewan, I’ve been waiting so long…”

Minutes, hours, months…a lifetime, Ewan finally decided, putting up a final resistance as Cait’s fingers plucked at his skin, coaxing him forward to make them one.

“Never leave me,” he groaned, intent on exacting the promise before he opened himself to her again. He wouldn’t live if he lost her a second time. He wouldn’t have the will.

“Never!” Cait promised, and then further words between them were unnecessary. Ewan surged into her body with a single, powerful stroke, leaving them both breathless and mute.

He wanted to stay where he was and savour the moment, but his body wouldn’t allow him to rest. He needed to move. Soon, he was doing so, rocking forward in steadily more powerful strokes as Cait bucked and writhed against him.

She felt so good! He’d forgotten how good she felt. He had to struggle to stop himself from coming immediately. Every time he looked down at her body, glimpsed her passion-glazed eyes or felt the hot, ragged puff of her breath he wanted to explode.

“Cait, my Cait…my Beauty,” he puffed the words into her ear again and again, wanting to cover her in his possession. He didn’t want her to be any doubt that this was the beginning of the rest of their lives.

“Ewan!” she answered back in a steadily more-strangled voice. He watched her carefully, gauging her reaction and adapting his technique, intent on pleasuring her beyond endurance. It wasn’t long before his plan began to work. He felt her tightening and pulsing around him.

“A little more,” he groaned, his hand tightening almost painfully on his waist as he adjusted the angle between their bodies. He was determined to time everything just right, desperate to share the ecstasy when their bodies finally broke. “A little…a…” he jerked his hips upwards, grinding hard against her clit. Then, Cait’s lips parted to release a keening little wail and he was finally, completely undone.

Ewan’s body came to a shuddering stop, and then he spilled inside his wife, barely able to breathe as wave after wave of pleasure surged and crashed around his body. He had almost forgotten how good it felt with Cait. His body was utterly sated. More than that, he felt wholly more at peace than he had since the day he’d left Glen Mohr.”

Ewan knew that he must be crushing his tiny wife, but he couldn’t bring himself to move until she asked. So, he remained as he was, smothering her beneath the warm blanket of his flesh, limbs knotted together,
and breath
mingling.

Had it always been like this? Ewan was astonished to think that it had, and that anything his uncle might have said or done would have had the power to drag him away. Upon reflection, however, he considered that things had changed. Over time, the emotions he felt for the woman had distilled, growing stronger and more distinct. The veil of doubts that had hung between them was finally ripped away. Cait knew- or at least he hoped she knew- that he wanted her- damn her name or her position! He knew that nothing else mattered more than the love that he felt for his wife.

“Let’s lay like this forever,” he mumbled sleepily when Cait began to squirm.

He was met with a giggle, “We can’t.”

“Why?” Ewan countered, letting his eyes start to drift shut. What was the bloody point of being the laird if he couldn’t indulge his own whims. Perhaps Cait was right that they couldn’t remain in bed for eternity, but surely he could eke out a few days? After all, the clan had been expecting him to take a honeymoon!

With Mary
, he reminded himself wearily. Then, despite his best intentions, he thought about the mess with the
MacMillan
s and the rest of his clan waiting to be unravelled until he finally emerged.

Well, even that could wait a few hours, he decided, finally turning onto his side and dragging Cait back against his chest. He had learnt since becoming Laird that moments of peace were sometimes few and far between. He had to seize them, and cling to them for as long as he was able.