Highlander Untamed by Monica Mccarty

with shock, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. His reticence to consummate the handfast was unexpected, and unusual. She had been counting on the private time spent in their chamber to help him fall in love with her. She had even been preparing herself mentally for the possible bedding tonight.
    She should be relieved. After that kiss, she’d been a mass of knots. If she reacted like that to a simple kiss, what would happen when he bedded her?
    Isabel had hoped that he might give her some time to get used to the idea. Now that he had, she didn’t know what to think. Either he was very thoughtful or he was not attracted to her. She hoped it was the former—for the sake of the plan, of course. Still, she felt unaccountably disappointed.
    A high-pitched tinkle of laughter mixed with Rory’s husky voice drew her immediate attention. When she spied a beautiful dark-haired woman next to her father, another explanation crept forward. Her heart twisted in her chest. Isabel hoped he was not finding his pleasure elsewhere.
     
    Rory hadn’t missed the twinge of hurt in her eyes when he informed her they wouldn’t be sharing a room. But he hadn’t been prepared for the heat that surged through his body when she mentioned removing to his chamber. Extending his legs under the dais, he took another swig of cuirm, trying to repress the lust betraying his body. He could only imagine what it would be like to bed her when a chaste kiss set him on fire. Never had a kiss affected him so, setting off primal urges that had only worsened over the long meal. The sensual curve of her mouth taunted him. He wanted to taste her again. To feel her soft lips moving under his. She’d tasted so sweet and desire had hit him full force. His body hardened just looking at her. Damn. He shifted in his seat with renewed discomfort.
    He was aware of the direction of her thoughts. He’d done his best to ignore her throughout the feast and had flirted shamelessly with the witless but beautiful Catriona MacCrimmon. He knew he was wrong to encourage Catriona, a past relationship that had outlived its initial excitement, but he had to find some way to distract himself.
    He’d had to fight the urge to stare at his new bride all day. He told himself it was only because he had a duty to observe those around him—especially those whose very presence demanded a certain level of suspicion. Still, he wasn’t nearly as indifferent as he pretended. He wished it was simply her beauty, but damned if he didn’t find her intriguing for other reasons.
    Rory found himself noticing little things, like the way she twisted her hair when she was nervous or bit her lip when she was thinking. But it wasn’t just little things that intrigued him. He’d also witnessed her kindness and consideration in her dealings with strangers, like inviting Deidre to the handfast.
    And after the ceremony, he’d noticed how she’d immediately sought approval from her father. There was such eagerness in her expression, it was almost hard to watch. But he had. So he hadn’t missed her acute disappointment when none was forthcoming. Her relationship with her father and brothers seemed very awkward, almost stiff. As if she were a fragile piece of porcelain, and they didn’t know quite what to do with her. Rory could commiserate.
    Still, he felt sorry for her; he was close with all of his brothers and sisters. He stopped himself and frowned. Except the youngest. Flora had left with her mother as a child after the death of their father and rarely returned. It was a situation he intended to rectify to ensure that the girl didn’t grow up without knowing her kin.
    Isabel was endearingly vulnerable, but not timid. The strength with which she bore his uncharacteristic display of temper had proven that. Initially, he’d been relieved when she’d finally given up and turned to Alex. Let her be a burr under his saddle for a while. Yet Alex seemed genuinely to enjoy her company, looking more