"I love it, Cameron. It's so soft and beautiful and warm. But most of all, I love that you chose it to match my eyes."
"But you're crying."
She gave that husky little laugh, half laughter, half tears, that caught him by the throat every time. "Yes, but they're happy tears."
Happy tears? He stood staring over her shoulder at her reflection in the looking glass. He was drowning, all at sea, anchored only by the warmth of her body leaning lightly against him and her small, strong hands resting on his. And the look in those blue, blue eyes, shining with tears.
Happy tears.
Once upon a time—a couple of days ago—he'd imagined he understood women just fine. The truth was, he hadn't a clue.
Chapter Thirteen
Cameron led Jeannie down a narrow pathway that wound away from the castle, down toward the sea. They were climbing a slight hill when Jeannie suddenly stopped dead. She closed her eyes and drew several deep breaths.
"Are you all r—"
"Oh, how I've missed that smell." She threw back her head and drew in another deep, luxuriant breath. "Isn't it glorious? So clean and sharp and salty. It does a body good just to breathe it in."
She dropped his arm and hurried up the last rise to where the sea lay spread out before them. She wrapped her arms around herself, pulling the blue shawl tight as she stood staring out to sea, gazing hungrily at the endless horizon.
He came up behind her, and without taking her gaze from the shifting gray-blue waters and the endless frills of white foam breaking on the shore, she put her hand out for him. He took it, and she squeezed his hand hard.
"Thank you for bringing me here. I'd . . . I'd forgotten how much I'd missed this. I hadn't realized . . . "
He watched her in fascination. "You're not sad to leave the hills?"
She shook her head. "The hills are bonny, and I do love the mist in the mountains, and the scent of heather, but I was born on an island. I grew up with the sound and scent of the sea all around me. I missed it something fierce when I was sent to live up in the hills with Grandad."
She drew another breath deep into her lungs, then gave him a mischievous look. "Race you to the water!" She darted, fleet-foot and nimble down the path and across the rocks toward the narrow, sandy beach.
With a shout of laughter, Cameron followed. His heavy boots slowed him down, but his legs were longer and he slowly gained on her.
She hit the beach and with barely a pause, kicked off her shoes, dropped the shawl on the clean, dry sand and sped on, her feet sending up tiny spurts of sand as she raced toward the water.
She didn't stop when she reached the water, just hitched up her skirts and danced into the sea as if in her natural element. Knee-deep in the shallows with her skirts bunched around her thighs, the waves foaming around her long, slender legs, she watched him with a provocative expression.
Lord, but she had a pair of legs on her. Doing his best to block the image of them wrapped around his waist, he waded into the water after her.
"You'll ruin your boots."
Cameron didn't care about his boots. He was all fired up. He closed in on her.
She splashed him and danced back, laughing. The water swirled around her slender, pale thighs, dampening her dress, now bunched around her hips.
"Set on living dangerously, are y—och, look at that! A wee seal. Or is it a selkie?" Cameron said.
Distracted she turned to look, and Cameron pounced, scooping her into his arms.
"You cheated!" But she made no move to escape him. For a long moment they simply stared into each others' eyes.
His boots were ruined, his trews soaked to the waist, but the chill of the cold seawater did nothing to quench his arousal. "I ought to drop you right in it." He made a feint, as if to drop her in the sea.
She squeaked and clung to him, laughing. "No don't, Cameron. Please."
"I thought you loved the sea."
She clung harder. "I do, but this is my only dress!"
