“Aye, milord.”
He even helped Mr. Haig and the two footmen saddle the mounts and eagerly sent them on their way. That left Una. As he turned around to the two women, he saw Mared’s sly smile as she pulled her arisaidh tightly around her and Una’s look of boredom as she glanced at the trees about them.
“I rather wonder how long they’ll be,” Mared said.
“Two hours at least, perhaps more,” Payton responded.
Mared stole a glimpse of Una from the corner of her eye. “Then if ye will give me leave, milord, I’ll have a bit of shut-eye.”
“Take my coach,” he said, quickly catching on to her idea. “Ye may both rest within.”
Una’s eyes widened. “In yer coach, milord? Oh no, we’ll do just as well to wait under a tree.”
“I insist, Una,” he said, opening the door for her. “I wouldna feel right about ye sleeping out in the open where any number of wild and hungry animals roam.”
That was all that was required—Una’s eyes widened for a moment, and she hastily stepped forward, toward the door that he held open. As Mared climbed up behind her, she flashed him a tiny smile of approval.
His wait was a short one, as it turned out. A quarter of an hour later, as he sat beneath the boughs of a pine tree, the door of his coach opened, and Mared very slowly and carefully climbed out, and quietly shut the door behind her. She gathered the tail of her arisaidh and ran to where he was sitting, collapsing to her knees before him with a laugh.
“Is she sleeping?” he whispered.
“Like a bairn!”
Payton grinned and leapt to his feet, caught Mared by the hand, and pulled her easily into the forest.
“Where are we going?” she asked him.
“Somewhere I might kiss ye properly,” he said low, “for I have missed ye terribly.” Mared laughed; he gathered her inside his cloak. They walked along until they reached a stream tumbling down the side of the hill. Payton stopped there, grabbed her up in his arms, and kissed her with abandon, with all the pent-up longing he had held in check for the thirty-six hours that had passed since she had left his room.
Mared pressed against him, kissing him with as much zeal as he was showing her. He twirled her about, backed her up until she was against a tree, and then gentled his kiss, taking his time to taste her mouth and feel her lips against his.
When he lifted his head, Mared smiled seductively and traced his bottom lip with the tip of her finger. “Do ye love me, then?”
“I do. I always have,” he answered sincerely.
She made a sound of delight deep in her throat, caught his head between her hands, and kissed him passionately. It was enough to unravel Payton completely. Since their extraordinary night together, he’d thought of nothing but her. He’d felt no hunger, no thirst, nothing but the need to be with her. He grabbed her skirt with both hands, groping for the hem as she kissed him.
“What do ye think to be doing, lad?” she whispered when his hands found the tops of her stockings and the bare skin of her thighs.
Payton grinned and nipped at her lower lip. “I want to be with ye, lass.”
Her eyes darted to the trees behind them. “But there is Una—”
“Sleeping,” he reminded her as his hand found the warm, soft patch between her legs. Mared’s green eyes shifted to him, and she smiled provocatively as his fingers slipped deeper.
“Ye’re a wicked laird, to seduce yer housekeeper,” she whispered huskily.
“Ye’re a wicked housekeeper, then, to seduce me so completely with a mere smile.”
Mared’s smile deepened, but her eyes slid shut and she leaned her head against the tree. One long, shapely leg rode up his leg, to his waist. “Una might wake,” she muttered.
“Then ye must be very quiet,” he responded, kissing the column of her neck.
“And the others? What if they return?” she whispered as she dipped her hand in between them and stroked him over the fabric of his trousers.
“Then we best be quick,” he mumbled against the smooth flesh of her breast. His hand moved over her leg, caressing it, holding it in place, while with his other hand, he unbuttoned his trousers and bared himself. He began to stroke her, stoking a fire inside of her that would rage as it did inside of him, stroking and tweaking until her head began to loll against the tree.
“Ye make me feel so weak when ye do that,” she mumbled.
“Weak?” He chuckled. “Ye make me feel on fire.” He slipped inside her then, sliding into her depths, and let out a long breath of relief as he slid deep to the hilt.
She sighed with pleasure and pressed against him. “Make me feel fire, lad,” she muttered.
Payton did not need any encouragement, for he was feeling the burn of his own desire rather acutely. He began to move inside her, watching her eyes as he did, watching the frown of concentration as he stroked her to climax, and watching her seductive smile as he reached his climax just after her.