“Why would he want that?”
“Because he’s worried about the message ye want to send to yer family,” she admitted. “He’s hoping if ye like us ye’ll be less likely to complain to yer brothers about being kidnapped and will no’ have them lay siege to Maclean to claim recompense,” she said dryly.
The shout of laughter that burst from him startled her slightly, but Evina smiled faintly as she watched him. He had a nice laugh, and his face was positively gorgeous lit up with humor as it presently was.
“But I was no’ kidnapped,” he said once his laughter faded, and then reminded her of her own words when he added, “Ye merely took me because ye felt it unsafe to leave a handsome bastard like meself naked and unconscious in the clearing on me own.”
“I ne’er said handsome,” she protested at once, flushing.
“So ye do no’ find me handsome?” he asked with a wounded expression.
“Well, aye, but—” Evina began with confusion, then cut herself off and scowled at him for tricking her into admitting as much when a grin replaced his feigned upset.
“But?” the Buchanan queried with a crooked smile.
“But ye’re bossy and cranky as old boots too,” she ended, her eyes narrowed.
“Are old boots cranky?” he asked with obvious amusement.
Evina scowled at him and reached for a cherry, but he grabbed the hollowed-out bread loaf Cook had set them in and pulled them out of her reach. Grinning at her consternation, he plucked one up by the stem and held it out toward her.
“Nah-ah,” he said when she reached for it. “Open yer mouth.”
Evina narrowed her eyes on him, but then her gaze slid to the cherry. It looked ever so succulent and sweet dangling there, the color a red so dark it was almost black. After a hesitation, she leaned forward and opened her mouth. When he lowered the cherry between her lips, she closed them and tugged, leaving him with the stem.
The Buchanan watched her with a smile and then popped a cherry into his own mouth and said quietly, “The message I want to send home is no’ to complain about the manner in which I came to be here.”
“Nay?” Evina asked, her suspicion plain.
“Nay,” he assured her. “While that was unfortunate, once here at Maclean I am the one who agreed to stay. No one made me, and I’m no’ a prisoner, so I’ve naught to complain about,” he assured her. “I wish only to let them ken where I am and that I’m well.”
“Oh,” Evina murmured, frowning as she considered how worried they must be. He’d just disappeared as far as they knew.
“So ye need no’ be especially nice or try to make me like ye,” he said with amusement.
“Good,” Evina said with relief, relaxing back on the fur.
“Would it have been such a trial to try to be nice to me?” he asked with curiosity.
“Aye,” Evina assured him, and then realizing how that sounded explained, “I’m no’ very good at that sort of thing. If I’m told to be nice to someone, I tend to do the opposite by accident.”
“By accident?” he asked with interest, and when she nodded, he raised his eyebrows. “How does that work?”
“I do no’ ken,” Evina admitted on a sigh. “I just get tense and tongue-tied, and usually end up insulting the person somehow.”
“So, if yer father told ye to be unkind to someone, would the opposite be true? Would ye then find it hard no’ to be nice to them?” he queried with amusement.
Evina smiled faintly at the question, and shrugged. “I do no’ ken. He’s ne’er asked me to be unkind to anyone.”
“Hmm.” He was silent for a minute and then asked, “How kind were ye supposed to be to me?”
Evina eyed the innocent expression he was giving her dubiously, and assured him, “No’ that kind. I’m his daughter, no’ the local lightskirt. If that’s what he’d wanted he’d have sent Betsy to yer room.”
“I do no’ have a room,” he reminded her. “I’ve been sleeping on a pallet in yer father’s room to stay close by in case he needs me.”
“Oh, aye.” Evina frowned slightly, and then assured him, “I’ll see to arranging a room for ye when we get back. Father’s well enough I should no’ think ye need stay in his room at night anymore.”
“Thank ye,” he murmured, and then grinned and added, “But do no’ feel ye need send Betsy to me. Me tastes run more to prickly beauties with red hair, than blond amazons with large . . . lungs,” he finished delicately.
Evina blushed at the compliment and then blinked and speared him with a look. “How did ye ken Betsy was a blond amazon?”
Conran shrugged and grinned. “She already offered herself to me.”
“She did no’!” Evina said with amazement.
“Aye, she did,” he said. “The first night I went below for sup. She offered to be dessert.”
“She did no’!” Evina gasped out again.
“She did,” he assured her. “But as I said, I’ve found I prefer red-haired beauties, so I refused her kind offer.”
Evina stared at him uncertainly, unsure how she was supposed to respond to that. She had red hair, but didn’t consider herself a beauty, and he’d been so stilted and cold around her since that kiss in her father’s room . . . She wasn’t sure why he was suddenly so relaxed and easygoing with her.
“I thought ye were married.”
He spoke the words so softly Evina almost missed them. She tilted her head with confusion. “I was. I told ye that.”
“Aye. But I did no’ realize ye were also widowed,” he explained solemnly. “I thought ye were married still. And that ye kissed me despite having a husband.”
“I would no’ do that!” she cried with dismay, sitting up straight. “Besides, I did no’ kiss ye, ye kissed me,” she added quickly, feeling her face heat up with a combination of embarrassment and something else as she recalled the kiss in question.
“Aye, I did. But ye kissed back,” he responded, and Evina blinked as his breath brushed over her cheeks and lips. How had he moved closer without her noticing? He was just inches away now. Close enough to—
Evina stiffened in surprise when his hand suddenly slid around her neck, his fingers driving up through the hair at the back of her head to cup her scalp. That’s all. He just cupped her head and met her gaze. He continued. “But now that I ken ye’re widowed and would no’ be being unfaithful, I’d really like to kiss ye again.”
“Please.” Evina had no idea where the word came from. Her brain didn’t send it out. It was like her body had a mind of its own. Or at least her lips did, since they whispered the word. It didn’t matter though. She’d said it, and that was that. The hand at the back of her head pulled, his face came closer and huzzah! His lips were on hers, and it was as wonderful as the last time.
With pleasure and need rushing through her, Evina opened to him, drinking in the taste of cherries as his tongue slid in. Passion infused her and her body responded as if it had been sleeping for years and was being brought back to life, softening and pressing into him.