Laird's Return

Liam’s blood ran cold with horror as he recognized another ghost from his past and he looked up at his brother in disbelief.
Robbie shrugged his shoulders. “Father arranged the marriage after you left.”
There was a rustle of fabric in the hallway, mingled with the quick light patter of heels along the corridor. Liam’s pulse pounded between his ears. It just couldn’t be her. His mind flashed to when he arrived—looking into the garden—the curve of the lady’s back, the hair, the graceful gentle air about her. He knew without a doubt who Robbie’s wife was. One of the foremost regrets he had about leaving Scotland behind, the woman who haunted his dreams nightly for ten years, a reminder of all he had lost. Isobel.
The door opened and she walked through. It was like he was standing in his dreams. She didn’t notice him and he tried to disappear into the corner between the fireplace and the bookshelf. All he wanted to do was watch her, lest this was some cruel joke and she would disappear into his memories again. Her blue eyes were lit up with exuberance, her arms filled with a bouquet of fresh cut roses, filling the air with the potent sweetness of summer and beauty.
“Look what I found for you, Robbie.” She held out the roses, like an excited child. “Are they not the most beautiful things? I thought it would brighten your day.”
Robbie gave her an indulgent smile. “Thank you, my dear.” He took her free hand and kissed her knuckles dutifully. “We have company, dearest.” Robbie looked askance towards Liam and she turned her head, following her husband’s gaze.
Liam gazed into her deep blue eyes and watched as the polite smile faded and her eyes widen in shock. Gone was the girl of seventeen he had left behind. The years apart had only made her more beautiful, a vision. His heart ached to touch her, his body heating with the passion she stirred within him. All those nights in Africa, dreaming of the moment they might be together again.
This moment.