A Highlander's Gifted Love (Blood 0f Duncliffe Series Book 9) by Emilia Ferguson

Author:Emilia Ferguson [Ferguson, Emilia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Ancient Civilizations, Historical Scottish-Irish Romance, Historical Romance, Women's Fiction, Regency & Victorian Era, 17th Century, Forever Love, Bachelor, Single Woman, Medieval & Ancient World, Thrillers & Suspense, Mystery & Intrigue, Protection & Safety, Action & Adventure, Dangerous & Deadly, Romantic Suspense, Life-Changes, Second Chance Reunion, Highlander, Rough & Tumble, Fantasy, Lifetime Love, Clean Romance, Romantic Schemes, Mysterious Scottish Highlands, Dark Ages, Beautiful & Feisty, Blood 0f Duncliffe Series
Publisher: Emilia Ferguson
Published: 2019-06-11T04:00:00+00:00

A NEW MORNING

Domnall woke with a sweet wandering sensation in his stomach. He looked down at the head beside his on the pillow, flaming hair shining in the dawn’s pale light.

“Chlodie?”

She shifted and smiled, and he saw her slowly come to heart-stopping wakefulness, her eyes studying him.

“Hello,” she whispered.

He drew her close, crushing her against him, his heart about to burst. He stroked her hair again and leaned back, kissing her tenderly.

“Good morning, Chlodie.”

She grinned. She stroked a hand down the side of his head, lingeringly, touching his hair.

“Good morning, Domnall.”

He smiled, realizing what a pleasure it was to whisper her name thus.

“Chlodie. Chlodie. Chlodie.”

She giggled. Repeated his name.

He grinned, foolish, and she smiled back. They lay there, holding each other.

After a heart-stopping moment, he leaned back, looking at her.

“We need to dress.”

She sat up quickly, face flushed. “You’re right,” she said. “What if somebody enters?”

“I blocked the door,” he whispered.

He saw her eyes move over the array of furniture – a chair and a night stand – he’d pushed before the door. He laughed.

“I couldn’t risk it.”

“No,” she nodded, leaning back against the back rest of the bed. “You’re right. Thank you.”

“Thank you, milady,” he whispered, raw. “Thank you so much.”

She blushed and giggled and he held her.

Then, as soon as they had kissed, she stood. Unashamedly naked, she reached for her petticoat skirts.

“I really ought to go,” she said, grinning. “Someone might come in.”

“I suppose,” he said, still lying down. He studied her, loving the way she looked shy as he let his gaze study her. He loved the way she looked shy and proud at once, her cheek pink.

“You, too,” she whispered, teasingly, “need some clothes on.”

“I suppose,” he teased.

He stood and felt himself flush as he caught her gaze on him. It was admiring, and the thought of that made his body tingle, making him blush.

He reached for his shirt, shrugging it on over his head. Then, as he tried to organize his kilt-pleats, he watched her get into her underclothes.

“Need help?” he asked.

She pulled a face. “Can’t…reach,” she said.

He nodded and, grinning, fastened the one button.

“Thanks,” she breathed.

He smiled and watched, teasing himself, regretful, as her body was again concealed by clothes.

Then, adjusting the pin in his kilt – he had it askew, and he knew that it wouldn’t escape scrutiny – he headed to the door.

“We’d best find some breakfast.”

He floated down the hallway – Chlodie had chosen to wait, going to her chamber to fix her hair – and paused at the door.

“I hope you’re planning to stay, Douglas,” he heard Marguerite saying.

“Of course, milady,” Douglas replied, respectful. “I don’t need more adventuring.”

“No,” she said, strictly. “You don’t.” Her gaze fell on him. He tensed, seeing her eyes widen and knowing he looked disarrayed.

“Good morning, milady.”

He bowed and with the dignity he could summon when wearing a skew kilt and a shirt hastily buttoned, hair messy, he went to a seat and sat down, heavily.

“You woke early,” Douglas commented.

Domnall blushed. “Aye, I did,” he said.

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