Love in the Time of a Highland Laird (A Laird for All Time Book 3) by Angeline Fortin (bill gates books to read .TXT) 📕

up to lightly chafe the scruffy growth of beard along his jaw. “A person might think you didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

“Mayhap I dinnae because I hae nae idea what ye’re speaking of.”

“I’m talking about a way for me to support myself when I’m on my own,” she said, her winsome smile slipping away.

He was frowning and he knew it. Stealing away her joy and enthusiasm. But he couldn’t provide the enthusiasm she was obviously hoping for when he was so stunned by her words.

“We talked about this, remember?”

Aye, he remembered talking about it. Talking her out of it and convincing her to stay. To stay at Dingwall. To stay with him.

He’d thought that would be the end of it. Yet here she was, making plans for a life without him.

She truly meant it. She intended to leave Dingwall. Or Rosebraugh.

To leave him.

As if the incredible passion they’d shared being thus spent had put an end to it all.

His blood roared in his ears, drowning out the slapping rain against the windows, the thunder rolling in the distance. Everything but the deafening beat of his heart.

“I have to think about the future.” Her voice was dim, shaky, losing the verve and confidence she’d gained over her time in the past. With him. “And now that we’ve… you’ve…”

“What, Al?” he bit out. “Now that I’ve what?”

“Gotten some.”

“Some? Some what?”

“Oh, come on, Keir! You’re not so archaic that you don’t know what I mean. You’ve gotten some. Yo—you’ve had your fill. Or slacked your lust. Whatever you call it,” she blustered, flushing so scarlet she was surely red to her toes. “You know you’re not going to want me around here forever,” she added in a soft voice just above a whisper, glancing back down at her sketch.

He wouldn’t?

It hovered on the tip of his tongue to say, “but what if I will?”

He didn’t even flinch in surprise at the thought.

He’d never been one of those hardened bachelors who claimed he’d never wed. Nay, he’d only determined in his thirty-four years he’d never find a woman to suit him. One who cared about his interests, could handle his moods. Who would never bore him.

Allorah Maines was that woman. She fascinated him in every way. Intellectually, physically. His beguilement transcended the mere knowledge she could impart, what she might teach him. Though keeping up with her mentally was a challenge he relished. Nay, her wee quirks had their own allure. The way she scratched at her earlobe when she was nervous. Bounced on her toes when she was excited.

The way she cared for the feelings of others even when they had given her no reason to.

Even her own insecurity tugged at his heartstrings. He wanted nothing more than to be the man who would make sure she was confident in her appeal. That she was worthy of love.

But how to tell her all of that without frightening her away even faster than she already planned to go?

She was indefatigably certain she needed no one in her life. He knew her well enough by now to know she didn’t think herself worthy of true affection. No one had ever cared for her unconditionally before.

All that nonsense about being her own woman when no one, no one truly wanted to be alone in life. It was nothing but fear talking. Fear of rejection.

However, he knew well enough her feelings on marriage after hearing her response to Artair’s hasty proposal. Had seen for himself firsthand how she responded to a proposal of the decent sort.

Perhaps he needed to make one of the indecent sort.

“There’s but one problem wi’ that, mo rúnsearc,” he said flatly. “What makes ye think I’ve had my fill wi’ ye?”

*

“Excuse me?”

She blinked up at Keir in confusion. A burst of thunder had nearly drowned out the last of his words. Surely she hadn’t heard him right.

“I’m nae near done wi’ ye, mo mhuirnín. We’ve only just begun, ye and me.”

Elation shimmied down her spine. Damn, but he made that sound like a promise. One she was anxious to find out how he intended to fill.

“So, it might take more than a night but eventually—”

“Or perhaps nae,” he cut in. “Are ye in some hurry tae set oot on yer own? Because I am in nae hurry tae be done wi’ ye. Stay at Rosebraugh, lass.”

“And do what?”

“Be my lover.”

So simple. So tempting. It was what she wanted more than anything. “I-I can’t just…” Al sighed in exasperation. “I have to look ahead, too. I’ll need a job. Some employment to earn my keep… And don’t say I can do that as your lover or mistress or whatever. I’m not a whore. I can’t feel like I’m being paid for that. Like I’m being kept.”

“Ye dinnae think it would be a mutually beneficial arrangement?” he said, wondering how he was ever to get through to her.

She saw nothing of value in what she had to offer of her self and her heart. There was nothing he could say in words to convince her. She would believe nothing he said. Nay, he needed the time to show her what he felt. Demonstrate how much she meant to him.

But he couldn’t do that if he couldn’t keep her with him. “I can assure ye it would. I’ve much tae learn from ye, lass. I want what is in yer mind.”

Bloody hell, he was going to start sounding like a lad desperate enough to grovel at her feet soon. But what was the alternative? Clapping her in irons again and keeping her chained in his dungeon? Though the idea had some appeal, he doubted it would keep her desires stoked even if it would keep her close at hand. “If it is an occupation ye desire, I can offer ye a position as my tutor.”

Al rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “That has no more security than being your lover, Keir. Both positions are useful only for so long. You’ll tire