Page 9 of The Highland Heir

“I try not to think of it at all,” heanswered as he had the last dozen times she’d asked such things.Would Isla be witty? Would she know her letters and numbers? Wouldshe like kissing?

That last one in particular caused him grief,for he was forced to imagine such a thing as kissing this wife hedidn’t know. Unfortunately, without the details needed to form thevision properly, his mind filled in her features with the one womanhe would never kiss. That is, he would never kiss again.

Ellie nodded as if appeased by his answer,despite his grumbling.

“That is probably for the best. If you don’thave a picture of her in your mind, you’ll be less likely to bedisappointed if she doesn’t look how you’d imagined.”

He agreed with her reasoning, but it wasn’tthe reason he hadn’t considered such things about his intended.Thinking about Isla tended to make him think about Ellie in a wayhe never had before.

Well, maybe he had thought of her in his bed,kissing her in the past, but he did his best to shut them out asquickly as they’d entered his mind in some torture brought onmerely by lust.

Fortunately, she relented as they wenthunting together that afternoon after he’d finished with drills andbathed in the loch. It was common for them. She was quite cleverwith the bow, and her smaller feet made no noise as she melted intothe forest like a wood sprite.

He found himself watching her as he hadn’t insome time. The curve of her elegant neck, the way her hips flaredenticingly in the trews she preferred to wear while hunting. Thestrength in her arms as she drew back her bow and let the arrowfly. The squeal of delight and the wide smile when she found she’dhit her mark.

How would he survive without those smiles? Hefelt as if he needed them as much as his daily meals, but insteadof his stomach, her smiles fed his soul.

When they’d finished their hunt, they headedback to the castle.

“Do you wish to carry them?” she asked,holding out the rope with the rabbits they’d caught.

He sniffed and shook his head.

“It’s been quite some years since I’ve neededto carry the rabbits. You always get more than me, and as a man, Idon’t need anyone to think otherwise. I’ve nothing to prove.”

There’d been a time when he’d allowed themen’s teasing to bother him about her success in the field. Aprickle of shame raced through him that he’d insisted on carryingtheir quarry. It seemed a silly thing now.

“I wasn’t asking because I thought your pridewould be hurt if I carried more than you, I simply didn’t want tostrain myself under my large load, and you’ve hardly any tocarry.”

He laughed at her teasing and then reachedout to give her a shove. She stepped out of line but didn’tstumble. Probably because she expected such a reaction fromhim.

“If you’d not have rubbed it in, I might haveoffered to carry them, but now I’ll leave it to you. Maybe nexttime you won’t try so hard to outshoot me.”

He only allowed her to struggle with thelarger load a few more steps before he stopped and grabbed therabbits.

As he did so, he stepped closer than heintended. His body was touching hers. Just barely, but enough tolight something in him. He breathed in deeply, and the sensationwas made worse by her scent.

Sunshine, clean air, and heather. Kierandidn’t think Ellie did anything to capture the scent, it seemed tocling to her from all the time she spent running wild in theHighlands as a girl.

“I don’t think I thanked you for that night,”Ellie said as she turned from him and started walking again.

“What night?” He pressed his memories, tryingto remember what he might have done to earn her thanks.

“When the MacKenzie guard pulled me into hislap.”

Kieran frowned at the memory. He’d wanted todrag the man out of the keep and draw his sword for how he’ddisrespected Ellie.

“I saw you’d made a fist and were planning totake care of the matter yourself. Your way would have had a rush ofblood ruining our meals.”

“Not to mention my favorite dress,” sheexplained, causing him to laugh.

He nodded. “The blue suits you.”

“Compliments and carrying the load of ourspoils—why, Kieran Sinclair, I do think you will make the MacKenzielass a fine husband after all.”

That thought lingered as they made their wayback to the castle.

Would Kieran make a good husband?