Under the Highlander's Spell(75)

His little body relaxed in a sigh at Zia’s firm reassurance.

“Will you please go find Artair and tell him that I am tending your mother and will not be home until the babe is delivered?”

Jonas nodded and took off.

Zia rolled her sleeves up and prepared for the birth, thanking the heavens for their intervention.



Artair had been lost in his thoughts ever since talking with Lachlan. He should have realized himself that the only way to deal with Zia was through her passionate nature. She would not see reason the way he did, though that did not mean she didn’t see it.

He’d never known Zia not to be truthful with him, and the way she had blurted out her love for him should have made him realize that if there was anything she needed to share, she would have never been able to keep it to herself. She would have spilled it out in a zestful flurry.

She was an honorable woman, and he very much admired her for that and felt pride that she would be his wife. How to get her to agree was another matter. He hadn’t even told her he loved her yet, and he was certain she would never agree to wed him until he declared his love.

He planned on talking with her tonight, in their bedchamber. He intended to have their meal sent there so they could be alone and somehow work out the problems that plagued them.

“You have a good plan?” Lachlan asked, joining him at the table before the hearth in the great hall.

“I’m going to talk with her alone in our bedchamber.”

“You call that a plan?” Lachlan shook his head. “Beg her forgiveness, you fool. Better yet, tell her that you love her so much that love has made a complete fool of you.”

“It certainly has,” Artair admitted. “I’ve never felt like such an idiot.”

Lachlan grinned and was about to comment when Artair shoved a finger in his face. “I warn you, not a word.”

Lachlan’s chuckle rumbled in his chest.

Artair shook his head. “I will settle this tonight.”

“There’s a good start,” Lachlan said. “You’re finally being unreasonable.”

Before Artair could argue, the young lad Jonas raced into the hall and straight to their table addressing Artair.

“Sir, the healer says she will not return until the new babe is delivered.”

“Jonas, you look out of breath and chilled,” Lachlan said. “Sit and have hot cider and a sweet cake.”

The lad’s eyes brightened and he climbed over the bench beside Lachlan.

Artair stood. “I’m going to see if Zia needs anything.”

“She only needs one thing,” Lachlan said softly, placing another sweet cake in front of the lad.

“What’s that?” Artair asked.

“You!”



The birth took longer than Zia had expected, but the delivery went smoothly, without any problem, and mother and daughter were doing fine.

She settled them both, Jonas having fallen asleep hours ago, though he’d tried to remain awake. She promised to look in on them tomorrow. It was well after midnight, the village silent as she left the cottage. The mist had grown heavier, the wind more biting, and she wrapped her cloak more closely around her.

“You need this.”

Zia jumped and swung around. “You near scared me to death.”

Artair swung a fur-lined cloak around her. “You should have expected me.”

“Why?” she asked, hugging the cloak closed, grateful for its warmth.

Artair curled his arm around her shoulder and started them walking toward the keep. “Because I’ve always been there for you when you’ve finished late and are alone.”

Zia thought about it. “You’re right.” She rested her head to his shoulder snuggling her face past the cloak he wore to rest her cheek to his shirt and take in the familiar scent of him; fresh pine, burning hearth logs and pure male. It made her feel safe, secure and loved.

She tilted her head up and smiled. “I love you.” She didn’t know what made her say it at that very moment; she only knew she wanted to. It felt right and good.

He hugged her tighter, and when they reached the keep, swung her up in his arms and carried her to their bedchamber. Not a soul was about, not a sound stirred. It was just the two of them and when he shut the door she felt complete solitude surround them.

She sighed when she saw that a bath waited for her, steam rising from the water, and quickly shed her clothes, as did he. He stepped into the tub first and held a hand out to her. Zia waited a moment, for she wanted to drink in the sight of him, his body so strong and fine, and all hers.

He settled them down together; she resting on top of him, her head nestled on his shoulder and tucked in the crook of his neck, their legs entwined and their arms around each other. She was more comfortable than she had been in a long time.