Colin reached out and twirled his fingers through her hair. “Aye, that I do, Makenna. I will never want another.”
She let him pull her cheek down so that it rested on his chest. He did not offer words of love, but what he did give, Makenna treasured. He wanted her, cared for her. Not the way he adored Deirdre, but it was enough.
Colin lay awake stroking Makenna’s hair, listening to her deep repetitive breaths proving she was asleep. Her body molded perfectly to his as if God made her only for him. She would never know how much he relished the simple act of holding her while she slept. It was a gesture of trust, and it made him realize just how lonely his life had been.
His sexual desire for her was still present, but it no longer consumed him. Yet he still wanted…no, needed her by his side.
With the exception of his eldest brother, only Makenna seemed uniquely immune to his temper. He had been furious earlier and had done nothing to conceal the level of his anger. Yet never once did Makenna cower and retreat. Instead, she told him to stop yelling and was shockingly honest. And though he had loved Deirdre, their relationship had lacked something vital. They never learned how to be completely themselves around each other. Consequently, they never shared the true passion he was finding with Makenna. She was completely different from his soft-spoken, gentle, fragile Deirdre. Makenna was wild, and impetuous and aggravating.
And she was his wife.
Deirdre was dead, and it was time to say good-bye. He would always love her, but Makenna was his future. A future he looked forward to and would only jeopardize with continual thoughts of his late wife. He had a second chance with Makenna. She was vastly different than Deirdre and maybe that made all the difference.
Chapter Seven
Makenna rolled over and pulled Colin’s heavy arm around her. The room was dark, but she could see the faint rays of sunlight beginning to emerge. Her first day of complete freedom had arrived. All the lairds had departed for their homes yesterday evening, and Rona would be leaving this morning—finally. Ula had left days ago shortly after announcing that she would no longer remain “in the presence of a Highlander destroying her childhood home.”
She and her husband, Uilleam, ran a small keep in South Ayrshire near the Crossraguel Abbey. It was a nice home and well built, but too small to be of notable significance. Uilleam had intended to remove and use the stone from the abandoned church to expand his estate until the Black Monks announced that they intended to rebuild. Supporters of the monks chased Uilleam away, making it clear they would attack if they caught him thieving again.
He and Ula then turned their greedy eyes to Lochlen hoping to convince Alexander it was they who should succeed him and lead the Dunstans. Alexander had not agreed. Next, Ula had hoped her father would repay her efforts to see Makenna married by funding Uilleam’s ambitions to extend their home. Alexander died before she could ask, and Colin stated that he had no interest in providing any family member continuous financial support. Anger and spite drove Ula and her husband to support MacCuaig.
Mortified that Ula was publicly opposing her own father’s wishes, Makenna had launched into a verbal tirade with her in front of everyone the morning following MacCuaig’s hasty exit. Her fury had quickly transferred to Colin, who proceeded to drag her away from the hall, cutting off her final and most scathing remarks.
Colin normally would have found Makenna’s escapade infuriating. He needed to be spending time building alliances, but then it isn’t every day a husband learns the secret to mollifying his wife.
All the way to the loch, Colin had either watched Makenna fume or listened to her spew words about his bullying nature and high-handed ways. Apparently, no one before had ever dared to embarrass her in such a manner. It was then he realized that Makenna was totally unaware of how inappropriate and unladylike her behavior appeared to those around her.
Arriving at her favorite spot, Makenna huffed and gave Colin an icy look. The walk had done little to diminish her anger. She leaned against one of the waist-high rocks by the shore and boiled in silence.
Colin found himself at a loss for what to do or say. Part of him was actually pleased her anger stemmed from her loyalty to him. However, a larger part wished Makenna would restrain her sudden antagonistic urges.
He needed to return to the gathering, but subjecting Gorten and Brodie to her current mood would be a cruel order. Colin deliberated about bringing up her conduct but quickly dismissed the idea. Last year while visiting his brother, he had witnessed Conor come very close to losing some very precious body parts when he had tried to advise his wife on her behavior when she was still angry. Women can be the most sensible and logical beings in the universe, but drag them into a discussion when they are not in the mood, and watch irrationality explode.
And Makenna was clearly not in the mood.
Colin’s only hope was to induce Makenna into thinking about something else. “You know I also wonder about your sister Ula,” he started conversationally.
Makenna kept her arms crossed and looked at him from the corner of her eye. The man made absolutely no sense sometimes.
Colin saw her reaction and took it as a good sign. “Many think my mother’s idea about naming her sons with the letter C rather odd. I must admit that I am one of them. Now, don’t mention this to my brother Conor, and especially not to his wife, but they’ve actually decided to continue the tradition. And if you have hopes of doing the same, prepare yourself to be disappointed. Our children will have their own names.”
Makenna squinted and shook her head in confusion. “Colin, whatever are you going on about?” she asked, not realizing that for the first time in an hour she was thinking about something other than Ula’s betrayal and Colin’s rude interruption.
Colin picked up some rocks and moved to rest beside her on the boulder. He took one pebble and threw it toward the water, watching it skip along the reflective surface. “Just this, my name was not my choice. I could not influence the way my mother chose to name her sons. Ula, however, chose to marry Uilleam. No wonder they are unhappy and take it out on others. Can you imagine if your name was Colina or if mine were Makenzie?” Makenna felt her jaw drop. “I would never have married you.”
“Nor I you,” Colin replied, throwing another stone. Then a devilishly attractive grin flashed across his face. “But Ula did choose to marry Uilleam.”
Maybe it was the way he said their names. It could have been that they were the butt of his joke. Regardless of what it was, Makenna felt her fury subside. She grabbed the last rock out of his hand and flung it so that it hopped several times before sinking to the bottom. “We can go back now, Colin. I promise to yell no more at Ula—if she is even still here.”
“Glad you are feeling better.”
Makenna moved to stand in front of him. “But you do agree that Ula deserved everything I said, maybe even more.”
“And do you agree that I was right to haul you away?” he asked, pulling her between his legs.
Makenna shrugged her shoulders and played with the laces on his leine. “I guess. It matters so little to her. My father’s wishes, her betrayal, Uilleam’s greed…all of it. The only reason she was passably agreeable the day of our wedding was to influence my father.”
“Alexander may have been soft when it came to his daughter, but he was not going to fund the expansion of her keep.”
“You heard about that?”
“Aye. Uilleam actually approached me before the funeral. You can imagine my answer.”