Trapped with the Devil of the Highlands (Falling for Highland Villains #3)

Chapter 33

CHAPTER 33

He’s quite lairdly, after all. How did I nae realize it?

Paisley sat on a mound of soft moss with a blanket around her and Cecilia beside her, both women observing Camden’s masterful authority. He had taken control of the situation as if it was just another ordinary day, his calm demeanor and clear instructions putting the anxious hive of nuns at ease.

All but one.

“Aye, ye say ye’ll rebuild the convent, which I’ll believe when I see it, but where are we to go before then?” Mother Superior demanded to know, her hands on her hips, still wearing nothing but her blackened nightdress.

Camden smiled his most disarming smile, unbothered by her ferocity in a way that made Paisley envious. “Ye can stay in the village closest to me castle. There’s a fine church there—the priest recently died, and another hasnae been sent to replace him yet. Ye can have it for yer own until yer convent is restored. The work will begin once the last of the fire is out. Tomorrow, I expect.”

“We’re a closed order, Laird Cairn,” Mother Superior reminded him.

Camden shrugged. “So, close the door. If me suggestion isnae to yer likin’, ye can stay out here and see if the forest creatures will be more accommodatin’ of yer need for privacy.”

“The church would be wonderful,” a different voice chimed in sharply—the nun with the magic touch when it came to all things growing. “Thank ye, Laird Cairn. Thank ye for yer generosity, and thank ye for rescuin’ our Paisley.”

Camden turned his gaze toward her, a different sort of smile curving his lips. “I appreciate yer thanks, but, with respect, she’s nae yer Paisley.” He gestured to the band of soldiers who were catching their breaths outside the crumbling convent. “They’ll escort ye to the village. I’m goin’ to take me Paisley back to me castle.”

The nun who sang to her flowers laughed. “I always kenned she wasnae made for the nunnery. Does this mean she’s to be Lady Cairn?”

“I couldnae tell ye,” Camden replied. “Only she can do that.”

Cecilia elbowed Paisley in the ribs. “Go on, lass! This is yer chance!”

“I should stay and help,” Paisley murmured, guilt and temptation warring with one another.

No one had ever told her that a brush with death could be such a potent aphrodisiac, or that being so valiantly rescued could turn a determined decision on its head. And while she did not like the thought that anyone had died because of her, she was not sorry that Camden had dispatched Laird MacNally so he would never be able to haunt her again, either in her dreams or out of them.

Even if the convent wasnae ablaze or tumblin’ down, I wouldnae return inside.

When she had feared that Laird MacNally was about to take her away, her only thought was of Camden. And when she and Camden could not find their way out, all she could think was, I should have stayed with him, nay matter what.

“Och, if ye dinnae go to him right now and let yerself be adored by that delicious man, I might have to volunteer meself,” Cecilia scolded playfully, nudging her again. “Go on, Pais. I’ll come and see ye when we’re settled in the village, but I reckon ye’ve got a new life to start, and he’s waitin’ for ye to start it with him.”

Paisley hesitated. “I should speak to me parents.”

“Leave it ‘til tomorrow or the day after,” Cecilia insisted. “It’s their turn to wait.”

A shadow fell across the two women, Camden’s hand reaching down. “What do ye say, sweetlin’? Shall I get ye home to yer bed?”

A glint of mischief in his black eyes whispered of the last time they had shared a bed.

“Aye,” she replied shyly, taking his hand. “I think I need rest after today.”

Camden pulled her up and slipped his arm around her waist, purring “I didnae say anythin’ about rest” into her ear as he walked her toward Nyx.

The dark mare nickered cheerily, confirming what Paisley already knew—finally, she was making the right decision.

“I might be mistaken, but I dinnae think this is the way we came before,” Paisley said, exactly where she wanted to be, nestled in his arms as they rode together through ancient forests.

He dipped his head and kissed her shoulder, whispering, “Nay. When ye came before, ye were bare on yer bed and screamin’ me name. I doubt I’ve heard a sweeter sound.”

“Camden!” She elbowed him in the stomach, heat rising through her as if she had brought some of the convent fire with her.

He chuckled huskily. “It’s nothin’ to be ashamed of, sweetlin’. It’d only be a shame if I couldnae hear that stirrin’ sound again.”

“Aye, well, ye can put it out of yer mind,” she scolded lightly, squirming in private delight as he pulled her closer to him on the saddle.

She could not help but remember the concealed shape of that hard flesh again, that she had yet to touch but had thought of ever since. All she knew of that secret part of him, she had read about in vague metaphor. No one dared to offer great detail in writing, and as she had been raised by nuns, they had not explained it either.

But if his fingers and tongue can do so much, it could never be a disappointment.

“I cannae when ye’re sittin’ so close,” Camden replied in a sultry tone.

As much as she was enjoying herself, relishing the comfort of his flattering flirtations and teasing embrace, some things needed to be discussed. She sensed he was trying to avoid it with his titillating words, making her more determined to press the issue.

“Ye said I was yers, Camden,” she began hesitantly, looking ahead at the trees that leaned over the trail as if they were trying to eavesdrop and not being very discreet about it.

She had no clock to keep the hour, but the night sky had lost some of the density of its darkness—an inkier black thinning into the deepest blue, while the stars twinkled on in their innumerable constellations. It must have been the early hours of the morning, though dawn would not come for a while at least.

“I did,” Camden replied more seriously.

“What did ye mean by that?” Paisley closed her eyes, fearful of the answer. “I ken ye dinnae want to marry. I ken ye dinnae want me as a wife. But I must understand the situation here. As ye said yerself, I must have all of the information to make an informed decision.”

He kissed the curve of her neck, the graze of his lips somehow pensive. “I dinnae think I’ve ever used this word in relation to me, ‘cause I’ve never kenned it, never felt it, never kenned what it was.” He paused, kissing the tingling spot behind her ear. “I was… afraid, sweetlin’.”

“Afraid?” She twisted around in the saddle to look at him. “Afraid of what?”

He smiled, cupping her face in his hand. “Afraid of marriage. On the surface, because I didnae want to sacrifice the liberty of bein’ a rascal, doin’ as I pleased, enjoyin’ the one thing in me life that didnae have to be serious. It was an escape, I suppose.”

His thumb brushed her cheek, skimming down to her throat. “Deeper than that, I was afraid of lovin’ someone the way me maither and faither loved each other. I didnae want to feel like the world had ended if I ever lost it, and ye cannae lose what ye dinnae have, ye ken?”

“Aye, I ken,” Paisley replied, her heart racing.

“I thought I was lucky—can ye believe that?” He tutted under his breath. “I thought I was impervious, thought I’d succeeded in never bein’ remotely inspired to fall in love, or aught like it. Then, along ye come in yer wee habit, with yer iron heel, yer stubborn head, yer eyes that say everythin’ even when ye’re nae speakin’, and yer frankly otherworldly body, and… that fear came back.”

Gripping his shirt so she would not fall off Nyx’s back, Paisley carefully turned all the way around. She draped her legs over his and rested her hands on his shoulders, needing to see what his eyes were saying.

“I let ye go so I wouldnae have to lose ye on somebody else’s terms,” he added, pulling her to him.

She gasped as his free hand slid under her backside, her legs wrapping around his waist—for safety, or so she told herself. “And that hasnae changed?”

“Sweetlin’, lettin’ ye go at all, kennin’ ye werenae mine, was the greatest pain I’ve ever felt,” he replied with a smile that suggested it should have been obvious. “And when I thought I’d lose ye back then at the convent, I wasnae afraid.”

“Nay?”

He shook his head. “I was strangely… glad that if they were to be yer last moments, ye were with me, where I could hold ye close and ye’d ken ye werenae alone.” A grin tugged at his lips. “Besides, if anyone were to lay a hand on ye or try to take ye from me, I’m evermore certain of what I would do now. I’d move heaven and earth to find ye and get ye back.”

Paisley’s heart soared, her hands smoothing up the sides of his neck to reach his face. “So, ye want me to stay?”

“It wasnae a hard decision in the end,” he replied. “If it’s between never havin’ ye at me side—or in me bed, for that matter—and nae kennin’ if ye’re safe, or havin’ ye right here in me arms, controllin’ our fate come what may, I think ye’ll agree—nae hard at all.”

He raised his hips slightly, the press of his loins making her eyes go wide and her breath hitch. That rigid flesh strained for her touch, strained to feel the wet heat of her silken depths, and though she did not yet receive a proposal of marriage from him, she did not know how much longer she could resist.

Tomorrow isnae promised to anyone. I could’ve died tonight, and if I had, I would have had one glarin’ regret.

With that thought guiding her, she kissed him hard on the lips, as she had been wanting to do ever since he carried her away from the fire and the threat of Laird MacNally. She kissed him with all of the gratitude and love and relief that coursed through her veins, knowing in her heart that she too would not let go of him again.

He kissed her back with equal fervor, pressing her hips to his until that already rigid flesh became rock hard between her thighs. Desire pooled in her belly, her breaths ragged as she grasped and pulled and clawed at him, desperate to feel more, kiss more deeply, learn everything there was to know about the paradise she had glimpsed before.

So, it was nothing short of torture when he stopped, pulling back with a smile on his face. “I ken somewhere we willnae be disturbed, and where we willnae disturb poor Nyx.” He laughed softly. “She’ll throw us off if we keep at it.”

“Take me,” she urged, meaning the place he spoke of.

His eyes darkened with hunger. “Aye, sweetlin’, I plan to.”