A Laird for All Time by Angeline Fortin (room on the broom read aloud txt) 📗

closed to savor the weather and libation.  He wondered if he was being a complete fool to encourage this strange bond between them, to fantasize over the possibilities her return presented him.  If someone had told him month ago he would be plotting ways to have her for himself, he would have laughed at them for a fool.  Yet here he was with a woman who still denied her identity, though the duplicity continued to puzzle him.

It simply was not possible that another woman identical to Heather and Dory could exist and arrive at his home with the same timing she had.  What then had motivated her return and denial?  He had no answers and that in itself was frustrating.

But being in her company was not.  He knew he should fight it, that he should hold tight to the anger and resentment lest she play him for a fool once more.  Perhaps she already was playing him for a fool, he thought.  Perhaps this was some sick game she had concocted to bring further misery to his life.  Could it be?  He shook his head.  This Heather - his lady, he had been thinking of her rather than calling her by that name to avoid arguments – was an open book.  When she was happy she laughed and teased.  When she was mad, she made sure he knew it.  Surely someone who so openly expressed every feeling could not be hiding sinister plots behind that façade?

She was Heather, yet some part of him recognized that, at least in manner, she was not the Heather he knew.  This woman was playful, inappropriately casual and yet sharply intelligent and openly caring about other people.  She worried for others.  Dory, Ian and even himself.  She had mended in just a couple days a family estrangement that had been in place for nearly a decade.  He knew that he owed her his thanks for that alone.

Beyond that, she was sensual, alluring and seductive without even trying.  He closed his eyes and pictured the two of them together.  The chemistry between them was profound.  He wanted her with near desperation, yet wasn’t sure it would be enough.

“Penny for your thoughts.”  Her low voice cut through his thoughts and he opened his to find her studying him much as he had been scrutinizing her moments before.

He shook his head in denial.  “Nothing of importance.”

Emmy knew that was a lie.  The expression on his face had been almost…well, longing, if she had to put a name to it.  She wished she knew what had prompted it.  Was he thinking of her?  Was it possible that he might think as she did?  In the space of a few days, Emmy had experienced the most intense desire that she had ever felt in her life.  However, there was so much more between herself and Connor than just pure lust.  At least on her part.  She shuddered to think that everything else was just one-sided because Connor was rapidly becoming extremely important to her.  She respected him, she knew.  It was difficult not to.  His devotion to his role as laird, as head of his clan was remarkable.  He took the responsibility so seriously despite the lack of deeper personal relationships among those who depended on him.  He was so caring, yet trying to mask it. His sense of humor was similar to hers.  He was well-read and liked music.  And, as she expected before, she was certain that he wanted badly to have someone to love.

And she wanted that love directed at her.  The revelation shouldn’t have been surprising but it was nonetheless. To be sheltered by Connor’s love would be the most incredible thing.  She knew it without a doubt.  He was a bit gruff now, but thawing quickly and Emmy could easily imagine the role he would assume in a relationship.

He would be protector, provider and lover.

It went against Emmy’s stalwart stand in the power of womanhood, of independence and self-worth to think that she might enjoy being taken care of.  Being a wife in the sense it meant in this time did have a certain appeal to it.  She inwardly gasped at her own confession.  Did she really think she could give over her personal power into the hands of a man?  Be a housewife?  She met his dark eyes and they stared at each other for a long moment, each considering.

She could see it, Emmy acknowledged.  She might even do it – for him.  He wouldn’t abuse his rights, she believed him capable of a giving, sharing relationship.  She trusted him.

‘Holy shit! I think I am falling in love with him,’ she thought.

“And ye?  A penny for yers?” he whispered.

‘Oh, hell no!’ she thought shaking her head in denunciation.

They were well into the sound by this point heading on a southeasterly course closer to the coast than the ferry had traveled.  As they moved along to the south, she caught glimpse of palatial manor tucked away among the hills and trees.  She asked Connor what it was.

“Duart House.  Home of the Guthrie’s.”

“Oh,” she said in surprise and examined the beautiful building with a critical eye.  It was so lovely, much bigger than she would have thought and as elegant as a French chateaux.  “Home of the ex-girlfriend.”

“Just so,” he confirmed softly.

“Why didn’t you just tell everyone the marriage had been annulled?” she asked curiosity getting the best of her.  “Why haven’t you still told anyone?  You could still marry the woman, you know.”

Connor rubbed his finger along his lower lip in a gesture she was beginning to realize was a habit of his when he was thinking and regarded the house solemnly.  “I don’t know why I haven’t told anyone.  I guess it didn’t matter much.  Everyone thought, assumed ye were dead anyway, but some part of me knew I had to make it legal.  For my own piece of mind.  As for the Guthrie lass, who knows?  I might have that opportunity still.”

That stung,