A Midsummer Wedding by May McGoldrick

Author:May McGoldrick
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2018-04-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Elizabeth’s shock at his response was priceless. Alexander nearly laughed, and the only way to hide it was to walk away.

Working his way along the water’s edge, he heard her continue to shout at him, but he didn’t want to slow down. She’d made assumptions about him, and he’d done the same. But there was an appeal in correcting her misconceptions a little at a time. They’d be traveling together for a while, anyway. Why dish out all the fun at one time?

“You wait for me,” Elizabeth ordered as he started up the hill on the far side. “You have some explaining to do.”

Alexander continued to climb. Even here, his boots either slipped or sank deeply. He knew the going would be even more difficult for her. Right now, that was a good thing. He needed to put some distance between them, if only to give himself time to cool the growing urge to kiss her.

Blast her, if she wasn’t trouble. She was funny, smart, and—regardless of everything she’d gone through since yesterday—the woman refused to give in. She was holding her head high. He had to respect that. He’d certainly not expected such toughness in her. And then there was her mud-covered face, the tangle of hair that had once been a golden braid, the violet blue eyes that showed the strain of cold and lack of proper sleep. She was beautiful.

And “trouble” was exactly the right word. The more time he spent with her, the more doubts he had about the decision he’d made. Perhaps he’d been too quick in judging what he thought she would be. Perhaps he should have waited and gotten to know her.

Last night, holding her trembling body in his arms, he’d tried to warm her. The problem had been his awareness of what lay beneath that torn dress, and that embrace had become more of a torture for him as the night went on. As she lay there asleep, so trusting, she had no idea of how much he wanted her. As she relaxed, she hugged his hand to her breast and he could feel the strong heart beating there.

Alexander had needed to roll away. If he hadn’t, she would have awakened with a full knowledge of how aroused he was.

He’d lain awake for hours, listening to the battering winds of the storm, thinking of his ships and the ports he’d visited, picturing in his mind the crops in the Macpherson fields. He thought about whether this storm was ravaging Benmore Castle. Forcing himself to consider these other things, he was able to make his body behave. Until the next time she moved or murmured softly in her sleep.

Damn him if it wasn’t the longest, most enjoyably torturous night he’d ever endured.

“Alexander Macpherson, you stop this moment,” she called. “Or I swear I won’t save you the next time you’re flopping around my boat like a dead fish.”

He considered telling her that dead fish don’t flop, but he’d reached the top of the low rise.

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