A Scottish Love

Chapter 8

(sex scenes in this chapter)

At noon the next day, Evander pulled into a small inn off the road, and watched Cora closely. Her eyes drooped, and she fought back a yawn as she stretched, wearing the light green day dress she had put on in the carriage the previous night. She looked up at Evander through sooty eyelashes. "Why did we stop?" she asked softly.

Evander smoothed back her hair, kissing her forehead. "You need some rest, love," he explained. "I want you to sleep in a real bed for a few hours." She nodded, too weary to speak. "Stay here with the horse, I'll get us a room."

"One room?" Her honey-brown eyes widened.

Evander's smile widened. "That's what married people do, love. As far as the innkeeper ken, we're married."

Oh, my God. Evander was going to see, well, everything. What if he decided not to marry me after all?

Cora fidgeted on the carriage seat. He seemed to think she was passably pretty last night, but it was dark when he saw her without her nightgown. Surely, in the light of day, he would change his mind.

Evander came strolling back to the carriage about 15 minutes later, holding a key and whistling lightly. "The innkeeper showed me the room. We're registered as Mr. and Mrs. Evander Banner. It's just anticipating the fact by a couple of days." He held out his hand. "This way, love."

He is so sweet.

"How long do we stay here?" She wished she could take back the question. Evander seemed to be more romantic than she was. Her pragmatism seemed to be ever more a flaw with each passing day.

A corner of his mouth tilted up. "We'll leave by noon. Even if we didn't need rest, the horse does."

"But what would we be doing if we weren't sleeping?" she asked, confused at his words. What did he mean by that?

Evander's eyes darkened with an emotion her innocent heart couldn't describe. He stared at her for a moment, shook his head as if to clear it, and motioned for her to follow. "The room is this way," his voice sounding strangled and odd.

"What is the matter?" she asked, following him to the room. "Did I say something out of turn?" She was always saying the wrong thing, according to her father.

When they got to the room, and Evander had turned the key in the lock, she noticed his expression. Taking her hands in his, he came closer until their noses touched at the tips. "You are so sweet and innocent," he whispered. "What we do now canna be undone later, if you change your mind. I wanted to wait until we were wed, but I dinna think I can wait much longer." He kissed her lips softly, then slightly harder as he felt her respond.

"What are you going to do?"

"Sweetheart, I want to make love to you. I will go slow, but first I need to ask you if it's all right with you for me to do it. I willna do anything you don't want, but it's the verra best way I can show my love to you."

Cora bit her lip. "Evander...you may not like what you see. If you...see me, and you don't like it, and don't marry me...I'm already ruined. I can't go home. My parents will turn me out."

Evander pushed the door open thoughtfully. "What makes you think that way? Why would you think I wouldn't want you in that way, after all we went through to get here?"

Cora looked up at him, tears welling in her honey brown eyes. "Clothes can hide imperfections. I'm not as thin as my sisters, I never will be. I read and I paint. I'm not impulsive, but something about you makes me lose all of my sense."

Evander nodded, closing the door behind him and turning the key in the lock. "Aye, you are all of those things," he said, his gaze becoming heated again, backing her slowly to the bed along the far wall. "But lass, you don't see what I see. I see a beautiful young woman, with curves to drive a man wild. I see a young woman who follows her passions, creates paintings, and reads to improve her mind." He dipped his fingertips into the neckline of her dress, kissing her collarbone. "Sweetheart, if I wanted either one of your sisters, I would be pursuing them, not you. Scots like myself would rather their women with a little meat on their bones. Your sisters look a wee bit sickly to me. You look...perfect."