Highlander's Reckoning (The Sinclair Brothers #3) by Emma Prince Page A

that
couldn’t entirely be attributed to the spiced wine.
    That was exactly the kind of reaction that could
make her slip up. She cursed her own body for its womanly desire for the very
masculine presence next to her. Why couldn’t he have been old and ineffectual
and addlebrained? Why did he have to be young and handsome, strong and
sharp-witted? How could she ever hope to protect her love of falconry and the
dear friends who had taught her?
    This was all too much. She mumbled an excuse and
stood from the table to leave, but he caught her hand in his, tugging her back.
    “Good night, wife ,” he said warmly, though
his stormy eyes bore into her.
    He pressed a kiss to her knuckles. But instead of
releasing her hand when he withdrew his lips, he pulled her down into his lap.
    Before she knew what was happening, he captured her
mouth in a searing kiss. One of his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her
in place, while the other snaked through her loose hair to gently grip the nape
of her neck.
    This kiss was nothing like their first in the kirk.
Instead of a light brush, his lips melded to hers. Somehow, his lips were
simultaneously soft and firm, demanding and coaxing. That scent, of leather and
mint and his unique warm skin, snaked around her once again, intoxicating her.
    His tongue flicked against her lower lip, and she
instinctively parted her lips a little. To her surprise, he tilted their heads
more, and then slowly began exploring her mouth. His tongue caressed her, hot
and wet. She had never been kissed like this before. Though her own innocence
left her in the dark on such matters, she began to have an inkling of where
kisses could lead, and why she had always been told never to give her kisses to
the castle lads.
    His tongue swirled, penetrating her.
    Their mouths were fused hotly, moving together.
    Her head spun as the sensations swept over her.
    This was intimate. And from what little she knew,
this was a precursor to much more intimate acts.
    Tentatively, she grazed his tongue with hers. The
hand on her nape contracted, tightening its grip on her hair and neck, which
sent shivers of awareness through her. The tingles seemed to gather especially
in her breasts and between her legs.
    Suddenly she became aware of a growing hardness
under her bottom. Even through the thick wool of his kilt, she could feel him
filling with desire and need. Some instinctual drive inside told her to move
her hips slightly so that she ground against his lap. When she did, he exhaled
sharply through his nose. A feminine satisfaction seeped into her.
    The whistles and ribald jokes sent up from the
crowded hall snapped her out of her dangerously tantalizing reverie. She jerked
her head back, breaking their kiss, but he held her firmly in place on his lap.
    “I look forward to our real wedding night,
lass,” he said huskily in her ear.
    She couldn’t muster a response. Instead, she stood
with whatever dignity she could scrape together and practically stumbled toward
the stairs on the other side of the hall. She kept her eyes down, but she was
sure the burning in her cheeks gave her away to everyone in the hall, including
Daniel.
    The cool darkness of her chamber did little to
alleviate her heated skin and racing heart. Damn her body! It had a mind of its
own when it came to Daniel Sinclair.
    Her husband.
    How much could she truly keep from him? He didn’t
seem like the type of man to let things go unnoticed. He hadn’t pressed her
further about where she’d been on the day he arrived, but how many more times
could she disappear for several hours at a time before he demanded an
explanation?
    Her father had either never noticed or didn’t care
enough about her whereabouts to raise a fuss about it. And anyone else who
observed her leaving the castle and crossing the loch must have assumed that
she enjoyed going to the village or walking alone in the woods. They had all
accepted that she was an unusual sort of girl.
    She had never