proving ye would enjoy me touch, since I’ve wanted
to taste ye since I saw ye at court, but it was insensitive of me to do so in public.”
His words stunned her. She’d never expected such tenderness from him, much less an
apology. He was a laird, set above her by God. Even the priest would tell her that.
But she didn’t need to know he’d followed her from court. Something stirred inside
her at such an idea. Some feeling she wasn’t comfortable with, a feeling that might
quickly turn into needing. Because she liked it, and she couldn’t allow herself to
like Saer MacLeod.
But his admission also made her feel desirable. Court was full of beautiful women,
the fairest in Scotland, and she was not blind to how she compared. Her features were
not too harsh, but she was no rare beauty.
“Find someone else ye crave.” She lifted her chin. “’Tis disgust ye stir in me.”
He’d hooked his hands into the wide belt holding his kilt around his lean waist. “Aye,
that’s true enough, and it makes me want to beat yer cousin to death for allowing
ye to be preyed upon. There is a fire in ye, one that should nae be tempered with
fear.”
“I am well enough,” she said and slid along the wall to escape. “Me opinion of ye
has naught to do with me cousin. It is simply the way I feel.”
He stepped forward, caging her with his body in one, lightning-fast motion. “Do nae
lie to me. I felt ye tremble.”
“I am nae—”
He lowered his head, until his lips hovered over hers. She wanted to reject him, but
a soft gasp escaped her, betraying her rising excitement. Her fingers clenched in
a vain attempt to grip the wall and keep herself from leaning toward him.
The urge was there, curling through her insides like a living force.
“I also felt ye gripping me hair,” he whispered. “Why are ye trying to hold on to
the wall behind ye? Is it to keep yer hands off me?”
There was a wicked suggestion in his tone that stoked the embers of the flames he’d
brought to life inside her in the chapel. She sucked in a horrified breath, her eyes
widening. She looked away, but he cupped her chin, returning her gaze to his. A shudder
shook her, and his lips curved.
“That is a reaction, lass, but nae one of disgust.” His voice was edged with too much
confidence. “It is the reaction of a woman to a man.”
He admired her. The realization set a bright glow off inside her, but it also stirred
a warning. She needed to reject him, find some way to wound his pride so he would
never look her way again.
For a moment, she was torn. Uncertain of what path was truly best. She searched his
eyes, seeking more hints of his true nature, but only time would deliver those facts.
Time and trust. If she trusted wrongly, she would suffer.
But then her belly rumbled.
His expression tightened as he bit back the desire to kiss her.
“Ye have nae eaten.” He stepped back, offering her the space to precede him to the
kitchens. “That damned brat let ye stand through supper without leave to fill yer
belly.”
“Ye do nae know that.” It wasn’t an outright lie, but she still cringed at how dishonest
she was being. If he didn’t matter to her, she had no reason to fear his knowing anything
about her. Yet she was almost desperate to hide every detail about herself. But the
words slipped past her lips before she realized how telling they were. “Ye cannae
know what I am about during all the hours of the day.”
His lips twitched with satisfaction. “I am here for ye, lass. Me attention is on ye
and naught else. I know where ye have been this day and that yer mistress did nae
give ye leave throughout supper. But I certainly expected she had supper for ye above
stairs. Ye followed her up there several hours past.”
There was a memory, a recollection of a time when she was not alone and someone else
cared if she went without. She’d be a liar if she claimed she hadn’t
to taste ye since I saw ye at court, but it was insensitive of me to do so in public.”
His words stunned her. She’d never expected such tenderness from him, much less an
apology. He was a laird, set above her by God. Even the priest would tell her that.
But she didn’t need to know he’d followed her from court. Something stirred inside
her at such an idea. Some feeling she wasn’t comfortable with, a feeling that might
quickly turn into needing. Because she liked it, and she couldn’t allow herself to
like Saer MacLeod.
But his admission also made her feel desirable. Court was full of beautiful women,
the fairest in Scotland, and she was not blind to how she compared. Her features were
not too harsh, but she was no rare beauty.
“Find someone else ye crave.” She lifted her chin. “’Tis disgust ye stir in me.”
He’d hooked his hands into the wide belt holding his kilt around his lean waist. “Aye,
that’s true enough, and it makes me want to beat yer cousin to death for allowing
ye to be preyed upon. There is a fire in ye, one that should nae be tempered with
fear.”
“I am well enough,” she said and slid along the wall to escape. “Me opinion of ye
has naught to do with me cousin. It is simply the way I feel.”
He stepped forward, caging her with his body in one, lightning-fast motion. “Do nae
lie to me. I felt ye tremble.”
“I am nae—”
He lowered his head, until his lips hovered over hers. She wanted to reject him, but
a soft gasp escaped her, betraying her rising excitement. Her fingers clenched in
a vain attempt to grip the wall and keep herself from leaning toward him.
The urge was there, curling through her insides like a living force.
“I also felt ye gripping me hair,” he whispered. “Why are ye trying to hold on to
the wall behind ye? Is it to keep yer hands off me?”
There was a wicked suggestion in his tone that stoked the embers of the flames he’d
brought to life inside her in the chapel. She sucked in a horrified breath, her eyes
widening. She looked away, but he cupped her chin, returning her gaze to his. A shudder
shook her, and his lips curved.
“That is a reaction, lass, but nae one of disgust.” His voice was edged with too much
confidence. “It is the reaction of a woman to a man.”
He admired her. The realization set a bright glow off inside her, but it also stirred
a warning. She needed to reject him, find some way to wound his pride so he would
never look her way again.
For a moment, she was torn. Uncertain of what path was truly best. She searched his
eyes, seeking more hints of his true nature, but only time would deliver those facts.
Time and trust. If she trusted wrongly, she would suffer.
But then her belly rumbled.
His expression tightened as he bit back the desire to kiss her.
“Ye have nae eaten.” He stepped back, offering her the space to precede him to the
kitchens. “That damned brat let ye stand through supper without leave to fill yer
belly.”
“Ye do nae know that.” It wasn’t an outright lie, but she still cringed at how dishonest
she was being. If he didn’t matter to her, she had no reason to fear his knowing anything
about her. Yet she was almost desperate to hide every detail about herself. But the
words slipped past her lips before she realized how telling they were. “Ye cannae
know what I am about during all the hours of the day.”
His lips twitched with satisfaction. “I am here for ye, lass. Me attention is on ye
and naught else. I know where ye have been this day and that yer mistress did nae
give ye leave throughout supper. But I certainly expected she had supper for ye above
stairs. Ye followed her up there several hours past.”
There was a memory, a recollection of a time when she was not alone and someone else
cared if she went without. She’d be a liar if she claimed she hadn’t
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