Without another word, the Campbell chief turned and walked around the fountain in the direction of the terrace. Celia started to take a step after him, but Colin stopped her with a gentle hand.
“Wait a moment,” Colin whispered.
Ellen cast a look over at Celia as Lord Hugh gathered them up. Celia nodded to her, and as Ellen, carrying Kit, and Hugh went up onto the terrace, Celia could see the young woman and the laird chatting amicably.
The spring sun spread a shimmering blanket of diamonds over the rolling blue sea beyond the garden walls. Sheltered from the wind by the protecting walls, Celia sat beside Colin and basked momentarily in a warmth that came from more than the golden orb above. Her eyes scanned the section of flower beds that lay before her, and suddenly were arrested by a glimpse of color beneath a brushy covering of grass and leaves.
Leaving Colin's side for a moment, she moved to the bed and crouched down, sweeping the leaves and debris away with her hand.
“Are you starting your work as gardener already?” Colin asked, coming up beside her and bending on one knee.
“Colin, look,” Celia exclaimed, pointing to the white, purple, and blue mass of flowers that had been hidden beneath. “Crocuses! The new season really has begun.”
“Aye, you've brought the earliest spring I can remember,” Colin responded.
“I'll wager there's a lot of beauty hidden here beneath all this,” she sighed, standing and waving her hand toward the untended beds.
“All the beauty out here isn't hidden, Celia,” he said, moving behind her and encircling her with his arms. Gently he pulled her to him, burying his face in the mass of curls on her head.
Colin felt the tremor go through Celia as the contours of their bodies fitted together in the embrace.
“How is your head?” he asked, holding her, satisfying a need he'd been feeling all morning to be in physical contact with her.
“Mmm...good...my head's much better.” She loved the way he held her, the way he enclosed her in his arms.
“You didn't give me an answer about being my woman,” he said, whispering in her ear as she rolled her head back against his chest.
“The answer is yes, Colin,” Celia answered softly. “I've never been anyone else's.”
Colin hugged her fiercely to him, feeling desire for her igniting in his loins. One of his huge hands found its way inside her cloak, and Celia's circular pendant brushed against his hand.
“What's this?” Colin asked, pulling the medallion from her cloak and inspecting it. “Legendary jewels of the Ottomans?”
“Just a memory of my mother,” Celia responded, looking down at the keepsake. “It's the only thing I have of hers now.”
“The only black sapphires I've ever seen so large or so dark,” Colin said in a low voice, “are your eyes.”
Colin laid the pendant back against her chest and gathered her tightly to him, cupping her firm breast through the fabric of her soft wool dress. Her body arched outward to his touch, melting into his close embrace.
“I came to your room last night,” he rumbled affectionately.
“I thought you did, but I didn't know if that was real or a dream,” she responded, caressing the backs of his hands as he held her.
“You were so beautiful, lying there in your thin nightshift,” Colin whispered, lowering his head and planting gentle kisses against the skin of her neck.
“You watched me while I was sleeping?” Celia asked in surprise.
“The firelight was reflected on the beautiful curves of your body.”
“Wasn't I wearing a blanket?” Celia turned in his arms and faced him, looking into his captivating gray eyes.
“Your smooth, ivory skin was too alluring for me to keep my hands off.” Colin pulled her against him, his hands tightening around her waist, her back.
“You touched me? While I was sleeping?” she asked, putting both hands on his shoulders, looking for some hint that he was teasing.
“The ties that held the front of the nightshift pulled apart so easily.” While one hand held her waist tightly, the other moved inside the opening of her cloak—exploring, caressing her back, her side, her breast.
“You...you untied my nightshift?” she asked, taking hold of his hand and holding it still.
“Starting at the top, one fell away.”
“You didn't.” This was too much.
“Then the next.”
“Did you have Agnes give me something in my wine?”
“Then the last tie fell away...revealing...revealing...” Colin closed his eyes as if remembering.
“Aye? Revealing what?”
“I couldn't hold back. I took you in my arms.”
“I had passed out!”
“I held your silky body against me.”
“You wouldn't. You didn't.” Celia was sure that he wouldn't have. Well, fairly sure.
“You raised your lips to mine.” Colin said, lowering his lips toward hers slightly.
“I was asleep!”
“You whispered for me to take you.”
“I didn't! I would remember that,” she exclaimed.
“To ravish you.” His lips were a breath away, threatening to devour her at any moment.
“I wouldn't!”
“To take you to heights of passion that you'd never experienced before.”
“That wouldn't be difficult,” she shrugged, a smile beginning to play on her lips.
“And I did,” he concluded, his face transfixed in his rapturous moment.
“Was it satisfying for you, m’lord?”
“It was until I woke up,” Colin reported in a casual tone that was completely devoid of the sensuous pretense of the previous moments.
“Then you never were in my room last night,” she challenged.
“Was I not?” Colin asked, his smirk taunting her.
“You were the one dreaming last night,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Was I?” he continued seductively.
“Absolutely.”
“Then how could I know how many ties you have on your nightshift?”
Celia looked down, still standing in his tight embrace, trying to remember the number of ties. Abruptly she looked up, crimson red, suddenly embarrassed. Three ties.
Colin's laughter, though, as he released her, erased her doubts.
“I came to your room last night, but you fell asleep on me,” he said, pulling her two steps to a bench and drawing her onto his lap.
“You're a beast, Colin Campbell.”
“And you're very talkative in your sleep.”
“I'm not,” Celia denied hopefully. “What did I say?”
“You really do not remember?”
“Of course I do, you tease, but remind me.”
“Do you remember this?” he said, catching her chin with his fingers and guiding her upturned lips to his own.
Colin's kiss began with a slow deliberateness that excited Celia with its promise. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him even closer to her.
Celia opened her lips and received the pressure of his mouth as he caressed her lower lip with his tongue, his teeth, his lips. She moved her head slightly to accommodate him as his mouth brushed her cheek and nibbled gently at the smooth flesh beneath her ear. She shuddered at the erotic sensation that suddenly raged in her veins.
“Do you remember telling me you love me?” he whispered, and her chest heaved as his breath caressed her ear. He tenderly kissed the bruise above her temple.
Celia took his face in her hands and brought his lips to hers.
He suckled her lip momentarily before sweeping into her with his thrusting, tasting tongue. She felt him explore deeply the recesses of her mouth, their tongues entwining with increasing sensual pleasure. She delved into his mouth with her own tongue, feeling the textures, loving the taste of him. She felt his strong hands grip her shoulders and lift her away from him.
“You do love me,” he growled, pausing to look intimately into the ebon depths of her eyes.
“Aye, Colin. I love you.”
Celia wanted to melt into him completely. To lie within the protective shelter of his arms. To be loved by him. She rested her forehead against his full lips.
“Celia, look at me,” Colin began. She lifted her gaze to take in his serious expression. “Celia, I love you. I want to marry you. I want you to marry me.”
Celia was paralyzed by the words that she'd never expected to hear. Emotions surged within her. A joyful shudder wracked her frame as she gazed into the face that had become a whole world for her.
He loved her. Because of that he wanted to join their lives, a union of bodies, of souls, of futures. Tears suddenly welled into her eyes, overflowing in streams of joy that rolled unchecked down her face.
“Oh, Colin.” She wept, smiling through her tears.
Colin brought her face to his, kissing the salty tracks and pressing her eyelids closed with his smooth lips. He gathered her tightly in his arms, as Celia buried her face in the hollow of his neck.
“Before you came here, I was like that shoreline beyond the wall,” he began. “My life was rough, unrefined—but solid, supportive of the life above. When you came, it was like the shimmering sea that dashes up against those rock walls, surprising, exciting, powerful—but somehow rhythmic, thoughtful, and secure. Yours is a shaping force, sure, defining and yet nurturing.”
Colin felt her soft frame resting snugly against him as she listened.
“Celia, I love everything about you. From the first moment I laid eyes on you, something was branded on my heart, on my soul. I still recall that vision in the moonlit room, so wild and mystical, so beautiful and so utterly fearless. The way you looked at me, the fires glowing in your eyes.”