“Aye, m’laird.”
Geordie noticed the way Dwyn glanced around as Drostan quickly shook out the plaid and spread it on the ground. She seemed surprised that they’d reached the orchard already, but she smiled when she took note that he’d chosen to have the boy lay out the plaid beneath their tree.
“There ye are, m’laird,” Drostan said, stepping back once he’d finished his task.
Geordie turned to inspect the lad’s work and nodded with approval. “Thank ye fer yer help. Now ye’d best go see to me horse ere he wanders off to the stables on his own and upsets Fergus.”
“Oh! Aye,” Drostan gasped, and whirled around to hurry off.
Dwyn chuckled as she watched the boy rush away, and then turned her head up to Geordie. “Drostan is an adorable lad.”
“Aye,” Geordie agreed as he stepped forward onto the plaid, and then knelt before setting her down. “But do no’ let Fergus hear ye say that, else he’ll have a fit.”
“Why?” she asked with amazement as she watched him settle on the plaid beside her.
“Because Drostan drives him mad,” he admitted on a grin. “He says the lad talks from sunup till sundown and is like to drive him to drink does he no’ cease his incessant chatter.”
Dwyn threw her head back on a laugh at that, and Geordie found himself searching for something else to say to keep her laughing. He loved her laugh. It was so honest and open, not the silly twitters most ladies employed in an effort to appear ladylike. Dwyn laughed from the belly, or perhaps the heart. It was a sound full of life and joy, and made him want to wrap her in his arms and squeeze tightly. And if her breasts popped out during the squeezing, all the better.
That thought made Geordie smile again, and he wasn’t surprised when his face muscles complained about the action by aching a bit. They were not used to the workout they’d been getting the last day or two, but especially today. Geordie knew for a certainty that he’d never in his life laughed or smiled as much as he had since meeting Dwyn.
“Oh, m’laird, I shall miss ye,” Dwyn said with a shake of the head as her laughter began to ease.
Geordie stiffened, a frown tugging at his lips as her words raised alarm in every inch of his body. “Why would ye miss me, lass? I’m no’ going anywhere.”
“Well, nay,” she agreed with amusement. “But once you and yer brothers pick brides from the selection Lady Jetta arranged, or reject all o’ us, I and my sisters and father shall return to Innes.” Shrugging, she added, “Much as I love me home, I have never laughed so much there as I do in yer company. I shall miss that, as well as talking to ye . . . and yer kisses,” she admitted on a sigh. “Thank ye fer making this all so much more enjoyable than it started out. I shall look fondly on the memories ye’ve given me.”
Geordie stared at her silently, not nearly as stunned by her honesty as by his mind’s rebellion at the thought of her leaving Buchanan and returning to Innes without him. He didn’t want her to leave. He didn’t want the laughter and talking to end. He certainly didn’t want the kissing to end either. In fact, he wanted more kisses, and he wanted more than kisses. He wanted Dwyn. He wanted her in his bed, naked and laughing until he turned that laughter to moans, and sweet groans and pleas as he loved her with his body and planted a bairn in her. He hoped it was a lass with the same honesty, and quiet beauty, he saw in Dwyn. But he’d be pleased with a lad too.
Dear God, he wanted to marry Dwyn, Geordie realized with amazement, but supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. His interest in drinking and wenching had fled quickly after meeting her. He certainly hadn’t taken the opportunity to find a willing woman last night, or even the night before when he’d been hard and hurting after sending her back to the keep. The thought of other women simply hadn’t appealed to him. How was he to wench if the only woman he wanted to bed was the one sitting before him?
“M’laird? Ye’ve gone oddly quiet. Is aught amiss?” Dwyn asked with sudden concern.
Geordie dragged his attention from his thoughts to peer at her, letting his gaze drift over her blue eyes, and soft lips, then to the long plait her hair was in today. It was thick, and beautiful and well done as it had been the day before, but he wished her hair was undone and flowing around her as it had been the night she’d been injured. He wanted her naked here on his plaid, with her hair free and the sun shining down on her pale skin and light gold hair.
With that in his mind, Geordie shifted closer to her and caught the end of the plait where it lay on the plaid beside her hip.
Chapter 7
Dwyn stilled in surprise when Geordie suddenly plucked the end of her braid off the plaid and removed the thong at the end of the plaiting. But she laughed nervously and grabbed for his hands to stop him when he began to unravel the plaiting her sister Aileen had spent so much time on that morning.
“M’laird, what—?” she began with confusion, trying to catch his hands to stop him, but Geordie caught her hands instead and lifted his face to kiss her. He did not start out with gentle teasing caresses as he had when kissing her before; this time he went straight to the devouring kisses, his tongue thrusting out almost before his mouth had fully covered hers.
Dwyn opened for him without protest, her tongue meeting his, and then she moaned and slid her arms around his chest as he made love to her with lips and tongue. She felt his arms go around her as he kissed her, and knew his hands were in her hair, but didn’t care so long as his tongue was thrusting and filling her as it was. When he broke the kiss and trailed his lips to her neck and she felt him tugging at the laces of her gown, she opened her eyes and then closed them again and took a relieved breath when he got them undone and her breasts spilled out, their constriction ended. That breath then came out on a startled gasp though when he suddenly pulled back to peer at her.
This was not like the night before. Then she’d had the darkness cloaking her in shadows. Now it was broad daylight, the sun shining down on what he’d revealed, but Dwyn remained still, allowing him to look. It seemed silly to cover them now. Besides, her breasts were constantly climbing out of her gown anyway. He’d surely caught peeks of what he was looking at now, so the only difference was he was getting a full unencumbered view.
“I want to see ye naked with nothing but yer hair fer cover,” he confessed in a broken growl that had her heart hammering in her chest.
Dwyn hesitated. What he was asking for was more than he should of a lady. On the other hand, she knew she wasn’t likely to get the request again from another. She didn’t even want the request from another. She wanted Geordie. She wanted to give him whatever he desired, and she wanted him to give her the pleasure she’d already experienced with him. She wanted his kisses, and caresses, and she wanted him to suckle her breasts, and she wanted those memories to carry away with her.
Lifting her chin, Dwyn tugged her open gown off her shoulders and let it slide down her arms until she could draw her hands free of the material. Then she sat, uncertain what to do next. She could not stand and remove the gown altogether with her cut feet. Dwyn wasn’t even sure she wished to go that far, so she simply met his gaze and waited, naked from the waist up and her hair loose about her shoulders and around her breasts.