How to Abduct a Highland Lord by Karen Hawkins

them.”
     
     “Dozens? How large is your town house?”
     
     “Large enough.” He caught her gaze and held up a hand. “Hold. Before you get more out of sorts, let me try to remember that blasted man’s name.” He frowned. “Seth?”
     
     “Simon.”
     
     “Simon, then. He came to the window when we stopped to change the horses. I explained I did not wish to wake you, so he had the carriage propped up so we could change the horses. Your Simon is quite ingenious.”
     
     “I don’t remember any of that.”
     
     “I explained you were tired from our honeymoon activities.”
     
     Fiona gasped. “You did not!”
     
     Jack’s eyes glinted in the low light from the lantern. “No, I did not. But I thought about it.” He slipped an arm about her waist and slid her across the small space between him. “It’s not every groom who would be so understanding of his bride on their wedding night.” He cupped her face, his thumb tracing the line of her cheek. “Fortunately for you, I am a patient man.”
     
     An odd flutter danced in Fiona’s stomach, her skin prickling with goose bumps. He’d always had the ability to make her bones melt with just a simple touch and a soft word. He was so certain of himself—while she was filled with uncertainty, an unwelcome experience. For the first time in her life, she did not know what the future held, and it terrified her.
     
     He feathered his thumb over her lips, his gaze following the movement. “You have the most beautiful mouth, Fiona. So lovely and lush, like a strawberry plucked at just the right time, red and sweet…”
     
     He bent forward and raked his lips softly over hers. It wasn’t a kiss; it was more of a promise, a whisper of what could be.
     
     Fiona shivered again, her skin hot, her breasts tight. She should fight this attraction. Fight it and keep her own emotions well in control. But the last week had been nothingbut control, and she was tired of not feeling, not touching. She wanted comfort and acceptance and passion. After a week of death, she wanted to tastelife. To hold it to her, to savor it and revel in it.
     
     She slid her arms around his neck and kissed him.
     
     Jack saw the exact moment she gave herself over to the passion that hovered between them. While she’d slept in his arms, the scent of her hair and the warmth of her skin beckoning to him, he’d had to fight the desire to touch her, taste her, possess her. It had been along carriage ride. During a rough section of road, her hand had fallen into his lap, and he’d thought he would explode.
     
     It had always been this way between them. Since their first meeting, something hot and primal had drawn them together.
     
     Now, finally released, his passion exploded with the touch of her lips to his. He pulled her closer and nipped her bottom lip, savoring its plumpness.
     
     But he wanted more than a kiss. Far more. He slid his hand up to her breast, cupped her, and ran his thumb over her nipple, making it harden through the thin material.
     
     Fiona gasped, her mouth parting, and Jack slid his tongue between her lips. She moaned, pressing closer, her arms tightening about his neck.
     
     God, but she was sweet. He deepened the kiss, tasting her ripeness as he slid his hands down her back to her waist, to her hips. She was so lush and full. This was a woman made for love, made for him.
     
     A sudden rocking yanked him back to reality as the carriage stopped.
     
     “Damn it!” he growled. “We’ve arrived.” Jack looked down into her eyes. She sat on his lap, her lips swollen from his kisses, her skin touched with a ripe flush.
     
     His groin tightened, but he ruthlessly ignored it. She was his for the taking. He knew it. But before he made that leap, he had to discover for certain if their marriage could be annulled.
     
     In the meantime, it would cause no harm to remind her who had the upper hand. Let her taste the cost of being married to a