Just Wait For Me (Highland Gardens Book 3) by Dawn Marie Hamilton Page A

the rest, but
needing to know. “And…”
    “We won several skirmishes and became arrogant. At Branxton
Hill, we did not stand a chance against the English. The battle raged fierce.
Our king died. God rest his soul.” Stephen’s voice broke, and he made the Sign
of the Cross. “Our lads fought hard. One by one they fell. I battled against
the onslaught, but received too many wounds to remain standing. My vision
blurred. Death hovered. My last memory is murmuring a prayer for forgiveness
then waking in these caves far from the battlefield. The Gray Women brought me
back to life.”
    “If we are in the year 1513, how could you have traveled
such a great distance with life-threatening injuries and survived?”
    Stephen shook his head and shrugged. “Fae magic.”
    Jillian frowned. “This is really hard for me to fathom.”
    “It took Lady Laurie a long time to believe, too.” Stephen
rose from the table. “Come. The hour is growing late.”
     
    Stephen shifted uneasily. What had he been thinking earlier?
Why had he badgered Jillian about her marital state? I have nae right .
    “Where shall I sleep?” Her question shook him free of the
chastising thought. Though more than likely a mistake, he wanted her to sleep
with him. Jillian crossed her arms over her chest and shivered “It’s getting
cold.”
    “Aye. We can lay together on my pallet to keep warm.” Her
body cuddled close to his, again, ’twould be torture worth enduring.
    She nodded with a yawn and plopped onto the pallet.
    Stephen unraveled his plaide and joined her, covering
them with the wool and then her silver cloth. She lay on her side, facing away,
shivering with the chill.
    He slid her back against him. His nose in her hair, he
inhaled a sweet hint of fruit mingled with the scent of woman. “Mmmm. You smell
good enough to eat.”
    Jillian chuckled, and the vibration against his chest spiked
his desire for the lass. Saints be praised, it felt good to hold her.
    “I’d imagine I smell like a sweaty locker room after a rugby
match considering the amount of exercise I’ve gotten over the last several
days.”
    “I dinnae ken of what you speak, but you dinnae smell like
sweat.” He inhaled deeply. “Ripe green apples and woman.”
    “That’s my shampoo—soap.”
    “Verra nice.”
    Jillian wiggled her bum against him and his arousal
throbbed. He wouldn’t take her. Nae. ’Twould be wrong. He was handfasted to
another. But he’d keep Jillian warm through the night.
    She rolled over and faced him. Her lips trembled. A liquid,
questioning gaze searched his. She must have gotten the answer she wanted. She
kissed him. A sensual breath across his lips. His balls tightened and his
determination faltered. What harm was there in a few kisses? He needed this.
Wanted this. He wrapped his arms around her and returned the kiss with a greedy
intensity that released much of the raw emotion hidden within his heart.
    He claimed her lips, tasting the sweet heather ale from
their meal. She opened for him like a flower and their tongues twirled in a
mating dance. Logic slipped away and deft fingers untied the laces of her gown,
folding aside the cloth to reveal her precious bounty. He took one breast in
hand. A handful of lusciousness. He massaged the taut nipple.
    A soft moan escaped from deep in her throat. He’d burst if
he couldn’t have more. She arched, pressing her womanly mound against his hard
cock. Intense sensations rocked him. He thought he’d explode in a blaze of
pleasure.
    Rolling her onto her back, he hovered inches above. If only
he could see better in the dim light seeping into the chamber from the tunnel
torches. With a growl, he sank between her legs and lowered his head to a
breast suckling the pebbled nipple, while teasing the other with his fingers.
She made the most erotic sounds as she undulated beneath him.
    His free hand skimmed the length of her calf, the skin silky
smooth. He eased up the wool covering her feminine core, and