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himself, and seek solitude from his new family. She never once
doubted he loved her. He had a way of looking at her, his eyes a
stage for pure mischief, and conveying to her how deeply connected
they were. But there were times when she feared she was losing a
part of him that was growing more impossible to reach. A portion of
his soul. She had even wondered if perhaps the original laird and
mistress hadn't mistakenly taken part of Roan with them.
    Whatever the reason, seeing
him like this caused a hollow ache in her heart.
    As if sensing her watching
him, he unexpectedly turned his head and looked her way. An instant
smile curved up the corners of his mouth. The sunlight bathing him
turned his irises a mesmerizing shade of amber, and highlighted his
light brown hair with pale golden streaks.
    "Good morn, darlin’," he
said huskily, his gaze lazily, appreciatively, sweeping over her
concealed body.
    "Good morning, yourself,"
she grinned and suggestively patted the mattress alongside
her.
    He started toward her. A log
crumpled in the hearth, briefly drawing her attention to the
roaring fire heating the room. When she again looked at him, he was
sitting on the edge of the bed, his right ankle braced atop his
left knee. His shirtless state prompted a sigh to escape her. She
would never tire of his muscular build, of the powerful width of
his shoulders. His hair, which he hadn't so-much-as trimmed since
she'd first met him, now hung just past his shoulders in soft
curls. And although she'd never thought herself the type of woman
to go for the 'maned' look on a man, she dreaded the idea that he
might get bored with it and have it chopped off.
    With this thought in mind,
she braced herself up on one elbow and reached out to run her
fingers through the side of his hair. His left hand cupped her
forearm and he reverently kissed the inside of her wrist, then
leaned over and nuzzled the side of her neck. Absolute bliss heated
her insides. Falling back on the pillow, she held out her arms. His
smile deepening, he moaned deep inside his chest and lowered the
side of his head to between her breasts. A moment later, he swung
himself fully onto the bed, slipped an arm beneath her, and
enveloped her within his arms and legs. Laura was never more
content than when she was surrounded by him. Inhaling deeply of his
musky scent, she stroked her fingertips along his exposed
cheek.
    "Did you sleep all
right?"
    "Mmmm," he softly murmured,
and nestled his face more comfortably between her breasts. "I was
dreamin’ o' a maist peculiar garden."
    She located a lock of hair
by his shoulder and wound it about her middle and index fingers.
"Tell me about it," she whispered.
    "No' much to tell. It was
all glittery and magiclike. I think our guest was there, too. Wha'
I remember maist was how peaceful it was. I didn't want to leave,
Laura."
    "Never?"
    He was silent for a moment,
then, "I'm no' sure. But I woke in a grim enough mood."
    Kissing the top of his head,
Laura stared unseeingly up at the ceiling. "Why can't you admit how
much you miss Lachlan and Beth?"
    "I do," he said brusquely.
"But can we no' begin our day dwellin’ on them?"
    They fell silent, each lost
in their own thoughts. Unconsciously, Roan began to rotate his
thumb along Laura's right nipple, which was rigid beneath her red
and blue plaid flannel nightgown. His absentminded ministrations
stoked sexual tension to blossom deep inside her. Trying to breathe
normally, she closed her eyes and relished the liquid warmth
building inside her veins.
    "I was thinkin’ we could
take a trip to Edinburgh next week," he said dreamily, as if
speaking to himself. "If the weather lets up a bit." He slipped his
left hand beneath her nightgown and absently massaged her naked
buttock and thigh. "But wi' Connery here," he went on, "I'm no'
sure we should make any plans."
    "No telling how long he's
going to stay."
    "Hmm. He's a strange mon,
this Winston. Laura, I can't quite put ma finger on wha' it