Page 19 of A Highlander’s Heart

The man continued to raise their rents, which left many of the larger families struggling to feed their bairns. True, Morgan didn’t have access to the clan books to see what the income and spending was, but he had a strong suspicion that plenty of the clan’s coin went for his uncle’s whisky and his trips to Edinburgh to play the puffed-up Laird of Clan Gunn.

He pulled his attention back to Emma who got close enough to pat his hand. “Ye need to concern yerself with keeping yer stitches from tearing. I have no idea what the laird will do, but as I said, I do ken him to be a fair and honest mon.” She smiled.

Immediately, the muscles in his stomach tightened at her smile. Most of the times he’d gazed into her deep-blue eyes with the long, dark lashes, he’d managed to stop himself from reacting to her strength and beauty.

He thought of the time he’d crossed the line and felt her warm, moist lips against his, the softness of her mouth, and the places within that caused a visible reaction in her. He could no longer see her just as his healer.

In addition to erasing memories of the other Emma, which he had been somewhat successful in dismissing, he also had to erase the memory of holding this Emma’s warm, soft body in his arms as they’d slept.

Never having slept with a lass in his arms, it was surprising to him how easily he and Emma sleeping together had become so normal.

He didn’t want her to have any effect on him. And it wasn’t just because of her name. They were enemies.

St. Bridget’s toes. His clan had apparently staged a fake attack so his uncle could kidnap a married woman and force her marriage to be annulled.

What he didn’t understand was the role the Sinclair played in this. Megan Mackenzie wasn’t his blood niece, but once Robert Sinclair died, the Sinclair had apparently assumed not only the laird role, but also responsibility for the lass, which gave him the right to arrange another marriage for her. With his uncle being of an old age, there must have been some reason why the Sinclair agreed to a marriage between Megan and the Gunn.

While he’d been ruminating, Emma had been studying him carefully. What was she looking for? Could he give it to her?

Chapter Ten

While Emma had enjoyed Morgan’s kiss, it was time to stop this nonsense and go to the great hall and have her own evening meal. She turned to leave, and Morgan grabbed her hand to stop her. For a moment they stared into each other’s eyes. Slowly Morgan moved his head closer to hers, most likely studying her to see if she would back up this time.

She didn’t.

With both his hands he cupped her face and covered her mouth with his. His lips once again surprised her. For as firm as she’d seen them when he was angry with her, when they kissed, his lips were soft, moist, tender. He brushed those lips over hers and then slid his tongue into her mouth, seeking, searching, touching, bringing her almost to her knees.

How could a man so strong, a hard warrior, be so gentle when he kissed her? His tongue swept through her mouth touching places he must have determined the last time were sensitive.

She felt her nipples tighten and dampness grow at the area between her legs. Her heart pounded and her clothes felt restrictive. Morgan moved one of his hands from her face and slid it down to cup her breast, kneading the flesh and running his palm over her nipple.

Instead of being shocked, which she assumed would happen if she were in her right mind, she pressed closer to his body, feeling his muscles twitch as she slid her hand over his chest.

“Ye make me crazy, lass. One minute, ye are annoying the hell out of me and then I wrap my arms around ye, and all want is to make ye mine.”

“Nay,” she said. She pulled back, her eyes closed as he continued to kiss her neck, behind her ear and now had the front of her dress down around her waist.

When did that happen?

“I must go. ’Tis time for the evening meal.”

“Nay, stay here with me, let me show ye how good it can be between a mon and a woman.”

Emma drew on all the strength she had and once again pulled back, but this time far enough that he could not reach her.

She gulped trying to get air into her lungs as she refastened her dress. “We will take a walk when I get back.”

Morgan stared at her and reached out. “Ye ken that’s no’ what I want from ye, lass.”

She shook her head and fled the hut, walking as quickly as she could away from Morgan, to the great hall filled with warriors, and clan members enjoying their food.

Daniel and Beth sat at a table near the back of the room, heads together, chatting away. Emma slid in alongside one of the clan members, a young woman with her bairns. Since she was wrestling with a few of them to get them to eat, Emma took the youngest one off the mam’s lap and fed him the soft food she’d been trying to get the bairn to eat.

She thought about what had just happened with Morgan. He wanted to make her his? Even if by some miracle Daniel let him return to Clyth Castle, where would that leave her?

Here, and brokenhearted, that’s where. The thought made her stop for a minute. Brokenhearted? Were her feelings for the fool mon that strong?

Just then Daniel and Beth walked past her. The laird laid his hand on her shoulder and said, “Once ye finish yer meal, I would like to speak with ye in my solar.”