agree!” Arbella bellowed, anger making her chest burn. She was tired of men telling her what to do her entire life, and now this barbarian would rip her from her own horse take her into the wilds of this heathen land and demand she tether herself to him for all eternity. She would never !
He slowly turned toward her, and her breath caught. A dark look came over the Highlander’s face, and for the first time with him she felt afraid. There was murder in his gaze. Her mouth fell open slightly and she regretted having shouted. His jaw flexed furiously, and his eyes burned through hers.
“A word, my lady,” he said through clenched teeth. He gripped her on her elbow and led her back down the aisle past his smirking warriors and into the afternoon air.
Chapter Six
Once out of his warriors’ sight, Magnus gripped Arbella by both of her tiny hands. He enfolded them in his grasp, trying to offer her a measure of comfort. And trying to still his own irritation.
“Arbella, my lady, please listen. I cann a keep ye safe unless ye are mine. And not mine as a reward for helping Wallace against the damned Sassenachs, but as my wife. Do ye understand?”
She stared at him wide-eyed. She didn’t speak. He rubbed his thumbs over the flesh of her hands, hoping his movement would wake her from whatever state she was in.
“Lass? Did ye hear me?”
She slowly nodded. “I hear what you’re saying, and I believe you think ’tis the only way to keep me safe, but I do not think ’tis a good plan.”
He spoke softly, controlling his urge to shake some sense into her. He didn’t want to marry any more than she did. But it was the only way. “Ye have to trust me, lass. No one touches what is mine. No one will touch ye. I canna bear for another man to attack ye. Who knows if ye will survive if they do. If I marry ye, they will accept ye.”
He watched her throat constrict as she swallowed . The sudden urge to dip low and kiss her there was overwhelming. Running his tongue over the back of his teeth, his gaze caught on the column of her throat. Slowly his eyes traveled upward to her mouth. Arbella bit her plush lower lip, staring at him with a mixture of fear and desire.
Magnus could hold himself no longer . Gradually, he bent toward her until his mouth brushed over the velvet of her lips. She sucked in a breath, but did not retreat. If anything, she pressed forward into the kiss. She was bold, curious and he liked that. The scent of wildflowers surrounded her. It was in her hair, against her skin. He slid his hands up her arms, over her shoulders until he gently held her face. Her skin was soft, warm. He kissed her tenderly, even though he wished to plunder her mouth. From her tentative movements against him he could tell either this was her first kiss or she hadn’t done much kissing at all. He would take things slow, introduce her to kissing. And with that thought, he realized how much he wanted to be the man who taught her how to kiss and be kissed. He wanted to have her remember him alone when she thought of kissing.
Magnus kept his lips on hers, sliding gentle strokes back and forth, and then he pulled away. He had too. With more need than he should, he wanted to thrust his tongue into her mouth. Doing that would probably scare the hell out of her. A scared lass was not what he required now. It was necessary for her to agree to marry him. He needed her to feel relaxed.
He stepped away, putting a few inches of distance between them. His blood pumped a thrilling tune. His cock was full, hard, ready for the sweet innocence that lay between her thighs. He clenched his teeth, forcing his overpowering desire to quell.
She gazed at him with a mixture of rapture, curiosity and surprise. ’Twas an expression he liked, and he took pride in having been the cause.
“You don’t taste like death.”
Magnus wrenched a brow. “Death?”
She looked bemused. “Aye. You taste…sweet.”
He smiled, trying not to laugh at her
He slowly turned toward her, and her breath caught. A dark look came over the Highlander’s face, and for the first time with him she felt afraid. There was murder in his gaze. Her mouth fell open slightly and she regretted having shouted. His jaw flexed furiously, and his eyes burned through hers.
“A word, my lady,” he said through clenched teeth. He gripped her on her elbow and led her back down the aisle past his smirking warriors and into the afternoon air.
Chapter Six
Once out of his warriors’ sight, Magnus gripped Arbella by both of her tiny hands. He enfolded them in his grasp, trying to offer her a measure of comfort. And trying to still his own irritation.
“Arbella, my lady, please listen. I cann a keep ye safe unless ye are mine. And not mine as a reward for helping Wallace against the damned Sassenachs, but as my wife. Do ye understand?”
She stared at him wide-eyed. She didn’t speak. He rubbed his thumbs over the flesh of her hands, hoping his movement would wake her from whatever state she was in.
“Lass? Did ye hear me?”
She slowly nodded. “I hear what you’re saying, and I believe you think ’tis the only way to keep me safe, but I do not think ’tis a good plan.”
He spoke softly, controlling his urge to shake some sense into her. He didn’t want to marry any more than she did. But it was the only way. “Ye have to trust me, lass. No one touches what is mine. No one will touch ye. I canna bear for another man to attack ye. Who knows if ye will survive if they do. If I marry ye, they will accept ye.”
He watched her throat constrict as she swallowed . The sudden urge to dip low and kiss her there was overwhelming. Running his tongue over the back of his teeth, his gaze caught on the column of her throat. Slowly his eyes traveled upward to her mouth. Arbella bit her plush lower lip, staring at him with a mixture of fear and desire.
Magnus could hold himself no longer . Gradually, he bent toward her until his mouth brushed over the velvet of her lips. She sucked in a breath, but did not retreat. If anything, she pressed forward into the kiss. She was bold, curious and he liked that. The scent of wildflowers surrounded her. It was in her hair, against her skin. He slid his hands up her arms, over her shoulders until he gently held her face. Her skin was soft, warm. He kissed her tenderly, even though he wished to plunder her mouth. From her tentative movements against him he could tell either this was her first kiss or she hadn’t done much kissing at all. He would take things slow, introduce her to kissing. And with that thought, he realized how much he wanted to be the man who taught her how to kiss and be kissed. He wanted to have her remember him alone when she thought of kissing.
Magnus kept his lips on hers, sliding gentle strokes back and forth, and then he pulled away. He had too. With more need than he should, he wanted to thrust his tongue into her mouth. Doing that would probably scare the hell out of her. A scared lass was not what he required now. It was necessary for her to agree to marry him. He needed her to feel relaxed.
He stepped away, putting a few inches of distance between them. His blood pumped a thrilling tune. His cock was full, hard, ready for the sweet innocence that lay between her thighs. He clenched his teeth, forcing his overpowering desire to quell.
She gazed at him with a mixture of rapture, curiosity and surprise. ’Twas an expression he liked, and he took pride in having been the cause.
“You don’t taste like death.”
Magnus wrenched a brow. “Death?”
She looked bemused. “Aye. You taste…sweet.”
He smiled, trying not to laugh at her
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