The Highlander's Bride(39)
What she hadn’t counted on was that the more she learned about Cullen, the more she liked him and wished she could have found a man like him to wed permanently.
“No answer?” he asked, his lips brushing dangerously close to hers.
“I’m thinking.”
He laughed, caught her around the waist, swung her around, then planted her on the ground as he put a forceful kiss on her lips.
She grabbed hold of his broad shoulders, her fingers grasping solid muscle while her body drifted against his, with help from his guiding hands.
She didn’t struggle; she didn’t want to. She liked the taste of him, the feel of him against her, the way his heat melted over her and tingled her flesh to life, and the way his tongue danced with hers.
When he finished, he rested his forehead to hers. “We have a bargain, you and I, one that will benefit both of us in more ways than one.”
He was right, and she could either be a foolish female who denied the obvious and have him chase after her, which of course they had no time for, or she could be practical and enjoy what time she could with him.
“Agreed,” she said before she changed her mind.
“Three days, if there are no delays,” he said. “Three days for us simply to enjoy each other, sealing the deal and allowing both of us to have what we want, me my son and you your freedom.”
“Three days,” she repeated. Three days to live her life and gather memories before she would once again be on her own.
They were on the road in a couple of hours when the path turned dense with overgrown foliage and they had to dismount and guide their horses, hoping it cleared not too far ahead.
“You handle a horse with experience,” Cullen said as they maneuvered their way around the dense foliage.
Sara held tight to the reins, guiding her mare slowly and carefully, the animal trusting and obeying her every directive. “My father thought me foolish for wanting to ride as well as a man.”
“Is that what you told him?”
“You seem as surprised as he did. What good does a horse do me if I can’t handle it on my own? My father insisted I would need no such skills.” She laughed. “I guess he was wrong.”
“Did your father always let you have your way?”
“My way?” she asked curiously. “Why is it that I must forever seek permission from my father or a husband? Why can’t I make my own choices? I’m not an idiot like some men, and yet the fools are still free to make their choices.”
“Alaina felt the same,” he said.
“And what of you?” she asked as he followed in her footsteps, the terrain more even where she stepped.
“Surprisingly, I found myself discussing things with her, both of us working together to find solutions to our problems, neither fighting to be right, just fighting to be together.”
“You respected her,” Sara said, and he agreed with a nod. “You both were lucky to have found each other.”
“Or unlucky?” he said sadly.
“Do you think Alaina would have traded her life for the brief time she spent with you?”
“Never!”
“You didn’t even hesitate in answering. You knew her well, and I suspect that you wouldn’t ever trade having known her for your suffering in prison.”
“Never!”
“I envy the love you had for each other. It is so very priceless.”
“That it is, and I will never know it again,” he said regrettably.
“That’s selfish,” she snapped.
Cullen looked affronted. “How dare—”
“You do an injustice to Alaina’s memory,” she barked. “She loved unselfishly, not caring for the consequences, simply loving with all her heart, and she taught you the same. How dare you not strive to keep what she taught you alive and pass it on so others may share in its beauty.”
Cullen stopped. “You know not what you say.”
Sara halted her horse and her steps. “You are right, I don’t, but I would love to know.” She turned and walked on, her horse following without hesitation.
They stopped when the sun was high in the sky to water their horses at a cool stream and fuel their own bodies with cheese and bread and quench their thirst with the tasty wine purchased at market.
They sat on a blanket Sara spread out near to the stream, the food separating them, the overhead sun toasting them nicely. It seemed as if spring had suddenly sprung.
“Will you miss Scotland?” Sara asked, receiving a startled look from Cullen, as if he’d just realized he would be leaving his homeland. “You did say you would be going to America. I just wondered how you felt about leaving.”
It didn’t take him long to dismiss any concerns. “I have more unhappy memories here than I do good, and my first thought is for my son’s safety. If I remained in Scotland, I would always worry that the Earl of Balford would discover Alexander’s identity and kill him. In America, we can build anew, and with my inheritance, I can give my son a good life.”