Garrett removed his hand, but not before giving Megan’s an affectionate pat. Then he wiped the tear from his cheek. “Not at all. It was not completely unexpected, as he was eighty-two. The last letter that I received mentioned that he was not well. And when he hadn’t answered mine the past five months… Well, as I said, not unexpected.”
“But hurts nonetheless,” Abbie replied kindly.
“Yes. It bloody hurts. Sorry for the language, ladies.”
“When did you last journey to Scotland?” Megan asked.
“Five years past, when my grandmother died. Once I grew up the trips grew less frequent, but we kept up a vigorous correspondence.” Garrett sighed wistfully. “He was a large man, braw, as they say in Scotland, with a quick temper and a generous heart. A genuine twinkle in his eye. My mother was his only child. His older brother, who never married, died about ten years past. I am the only living relative in the direct line.” He nodded toward his daughter. “And Megan.”
“Goodness, you will be the sole heir,” Abbie marveled.
“Well, I won’t be inheriting a Scottish castle or pots of gold. My grandfather lived modestly; he owned a small share in Mackinnon Spirits and Liquors, based in Edinburgh. The company belongs to another branch of his family—his cousin’s, I believe.” Garrett drank some tea, savoring the warmth. A cuppa always helped in times of stress, so his grandfather claimed. “He never traveled beyond Hadrian’s Wall, not even when my mother passed, even though my father invited him more than once. He despised travel.” He raised his teacup. “I will miss him. To Alec Mackinnon.”
Megan and Abbie raised their teacups and they all took a drink. Regardless of hearing of his grandfather’s death, he would not sink into despair. It was a sunny day. He sat with the woman he loved more than his life and his lovely daughter. His grandfather used to say: “Be happy while you’re living, for you’re a long time dead.” The Scottish saying held a good deal of common sense and truth.
Time to get on with the living—and loving.
Chapter 14
When they arrived at the hunter’s hut shortly past midnight, Garrett wasted no time and gave her a passionate kiss. “I need you. I want to forget…”
“Your grief? I understand.” Abbie caressed his cheeks, trailing the tip of her finger across his prominent cheekbones. “When someone we care about dies, we need affirmation of life, in whatever form.” As she had when Elwyn passed. Instead of seeking physical contact with another man, Abbie had decided to volunteer at the sanatorium. She was eager to contribute, to play a role in her husband’s legacy. But obviously Garrett needed a more direct confirmation of life. His erection pressed insistently against her.
He spun her about until she faced the stone wall. “Forgive me, I will withdraw, I swear it.”
“Yes, all right.” Garrett pushed up the skirt of her gown, moaning when he discovered she was not wearing undergarments once again. His hand slid between her legs. Already she was wet, thrilled at this wild, carnal side of him. Most of their past encounters were like this, rushed, frantic, feral. He kicked her legs apart and entered her with a swift, deep thrust, causing her to cry out at the sheer delight of him filling her.
Slipping an arm about her waist, he pounded into her, careful that her exposed skin did not scrape against the rough stone wall. Her feet lifted from the floor and she gasped in surprise. Garrett held her aloft, yet firmly pinned against his hard, unyielding body. As he slid in and out of her, he nuzzled her neck, whispering fiercely in her ear. “You are all I want, all I need. I love you, Abbie. Never stopped. Never will.” He uttered a rough oath as she cried out with her swift release.
Garrett’s thrusts grew wilder, and she placed a hand against the wall to steady herself. Then he left her, groaning as he lowering her to the floor. Gasping for air, Abbie turned to face him. He held one hand over his shaft. As promised, he did not come inside her. Reaching in the pocket of her skirt, she handed him a handkerchief.
“Would you?” he asked, still breathing unevenly.
Abbie moved his hand and gently wiped away the proof of his desire. It was intimate, standing this close, assisting him as their breathing returned to normal. Garrett then undressed, and did the same to her.
He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the chaise. Laying her on it, he covered her with his large body, then began to build the passion between them once again, but at an agonizing, slow pace. Garrett only stopped long enough to place the rubber condom on his stiff shaft. Once sheathed, he kissed and licked her skin, suckled her breast until she writhed and moaned under him. He threaded his fingers through hers and lifted their arms above their heads.
When he entered her, tears gathered on her lashes. It had never been this intense between them before, but when had they had the opportunity to love each other so unhurriedly? His languorous, deep thrusts urged her onward as she lifted her hips to meet him. The sounds and odors of sex filled the small hut and mingled with their moans. Abbie lost all concept of time, and lost track of how many occasions she reached her peak. His free hand rested at her hip, and Garrett started to alternate between quick plunges and deliberate slow withdrawal.
Oh, Abbie was ready to come apart. Fly to pieces. Then she did, as if she soared with the clouds. She had read such passages in books and thought them exaggerated. Then she remembered her past encounters with Garrett. No exaggeration. This one topped them all.
His release directly followed hers. He lifted his head, gritted his teeth, and all the cords in his neck pulled taut as he shuddered. “Sweet, suffering Jesus,” he groaned. Burying his face in the curve of her shoulder, he trembled and Abbie held him close to her heart. They lay like this for interminable moments, until he finally lifted from her and lay flat.
Exhaling shakily, he gathered her into his embrace. “My God.”
She sighed contentedly. “Yes, indeed. I am the most fortunate of women.”
“And I the most fortunate of men. Abbie, will you wait a few days before your departure? A week even?”
“Why?”
“I need you, I want more of…this. Besides, how can I court you if you are in Standon? You claim that you wish us to know each other better, then announce you’re leaving. What is going on? Second thoughts?” He frowned. “Or is it the caution you mentioned?”
How to explain? Her emotions had not been caught in a maelstrom like this since they were last together all those years past. It was all on her, for she was the one who’d come here to stir them up. Now she was retreating like a besieged coward. God, was she having second thoughts? Abbie snuggled in closer. No second thoughts about loving him. Abbie needed him as she needed to breathe. “Yes, a little caution. Also, there is scandal…”
“What? Scandal? What are you on about? You keep mentioning the bloody word.”
“In the eyes of society, what we did fourteen years ago is as scandalous as what we are doing here and now.”
Garrett bolted upright, staring at her as if she were off her head. Perhaps she was. “To hell with society. All that matters is us. Together. Never to part. Say you agree, Abbie. Return to Standon by all means, but know this: it is temporary.” There was an edge of anger and exasperation in his voice. “You belong with me. At my side. In my bed. Damn it all, I want us to wed and be a family with our daughter, and more children besides. I want us to share the future. You said that you wanted one with me. Have you changed your mind?”
“If I hadn’t come here, you never would have sought me out,” she accused. Bitterness unfurled inside her once again. “Let that sink in. You broke my heart. I kept waiting for a knock at the door. A letter or note. Any word. Something. But it never came. You…never came to me. I had been discarded like an old pair of boots.”
Garrett threw his arms in the air as he stood. “God above, Abbie, we’ve agreed to put the past behind us—to allow the acrimony to heal. But it never will. Not for you. Not completely.”
She rose, holding the sheet to her chin. “Perhaps it never will. Can you blame me? Which makes me traveling here on an impulse all the more troubling.” Her voice quivered with emotion. “Yes, scandal is on my mind, for I paid for it as you never have. I was alone and pregnant, rejected by my parents, beaten by my father, married to a stranger—thankfully a kind one, but a stranger regardless. I carried the brunt of it all these years. It has affected me. It still does.”
“You should have come to me,” he snapped. “The moment you discovered you were pregnant.”
“And be humiliated again? You should have come to me,” she retorted.
“Damn it all, I’ve said that I’m sorry for my youthful, immature actions. And I am truly sorry. I didn’t seek you out because I was ashamed of my cruel words and behavior. I believed that you were better off without a selfish, self-absorbed young man with a stubborn streak as long and wide as the Thames. You were better off without a superstitious man who allowed an ancient curse to rule his life. I would have made a terrible husband and father.”
She blinked rapidly, trying to stave off tears from forming. “And now you’ve changed?” she asked skeptically.