“Lilia!” Vivienne and Alberti scolded her in unison as they hurried to Graham’s downed form.
“Well . . . shit.” Lilia flinched with a delayed sense of guilt, heavily riddled with amaybe I shouldn’t have done thatfeeling.
Angus rushed to her side. “Dinna fash yerself, lassie. The numpty’s thick-skulled. Just ask yer kin.” He winked, then swept forward in a gallant bow. “And I am honored to ken such a fine warrior.”
“Not now, Angus.” Lilia scurried around him. She couldn’t see past Alberti and Vivienne to make out if Graham was moving.Please don’t let him be dead,she silently prayed.
“Dammit to hell and back.” A strained growl rumbled up from where Alberti and Vivienne crouched with their backs toward her.
She couldn’t see Graham yet, but from the sounds of it, he wasn’t dead—just thoroughly pissed. A sense of relief washed over her, allowing her to breathe again.
She hurried over, rounded her friends, and crouched down beside him where he sat rubbing the back of his head. “Uhm . . . I’m . . . sorry. Are you all right?”
“What the hell did ye do that for?” He kept his eyes squinted shut as he turned toward her. His grimace was colored a ruddy shade—whether from pain or anger, she didn’t know . . . more than likely, a whole lot of both.
“She rarely thinks her actions through when she’s suitably irritated.” Alberti pulled Graham’s hands away from the back of his head and pressed a towel-covered gel pack in place. “This will help. Hold it tight.”
“Really. I am sorry.” And she was. Lilia moved closer and gently replaced Graham’s hands with her own, cradling the icy pack against the back of his head. “And Alberti’s right. When I’m pissed... I don’t always think things through before I act on whatever pops into my head. Gets me in trouble sometimes. Well . . . not just sometimes. A lot.” She knelt closer, still holding the ice pack snugly against his skull. Bending forward, she peered up into his face. “I really am sorry. Forgive me?”
Graham’s narrow-eyed gaze locked with hers. His mustache barely twitched to one side as an unreadable look settled across his face. “A kiss,” he growled.
“What?” The ice pack slipped. Lilia caught it, palming it higher and harder against his head. The herd of butterflies residing in her stomach spread their wings and readied for takeoff.
Graham flinched, closing one eye as he leaned forward, pulled her hand away, and held the wad of towel and coldness himself. He wet his mouth and lowered his voice, easing a finger under her chin as he repeated, “Yer penance shall be a kiss.”
Somehow, and she wasn’t quite certain how, she and Graham were suddenly very much alone. Part of her panicked. But another part of her, the side of her warming to the opportunity and about to thoroughly embrace the idea of the seductive penance, thrilled at the prospect.
“A kiss?” she whispered.
“Aye.” Graham slid his fingertips up along her jawline, cupping her face as he leaned in closer. His gaze lowered to her mouth. The heat of him drew her in, caressed her, promised to make her whole. The ice pack hit the floor with a plop as Graham curled his other arm around her waist and dragged her astraddle his lap. He never blinked, just pulled her against his chest. “A thorough kiss. A claiming and a proper apology, ye might say.”
She framed his face between her hands. The soft springy curls of his closely cropped beard caressed her palms with an addictive tickling sensation that made her ache to hug him closer. A nervous giggle escaped her.
One burly brow arched a bit higher. “Ye laugh about yer punishment?”
“Your beard makes you cuddly—like a teddy bear.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and held her breath to keep from groaning. Damn, she needed better filters on her mouth. She just called the man a freaking teddy bear. Lovely.At least she didn’t add that she could just imagine how orgasmically wonderful that beard would feel tickling the insides of her thighs.
A deep chuckle rumbled him against her as his arm tightened around her and settled her more firmly in his embrace. “I’ll be yer cuddle bear anytime ye wish.” His fingers slid deeper into her upswept hair, gently steadying her as his mouth closed over hers.
Urgency. Need. Longing.Were those Graham’s emotions she sensed or her own? She found herself melting into him, sliding her hands across his shoulders and holding him tighter as she closed her eyes and spun away into the heat of the kiss. He gently sucked at her lower lip then groaned as he opened her mouth wider, exploring, tasting, claiming until her body hummed with the need for more. She squirmed, still straddling his lap, arching against him as his hands slid down her back, cupped her ass, and pulled her tighter against an exquisite hardness that couldn’t possibly be just a sports cup. She could take him right here in the middle of the arena. Alberti’s dance class could just be damned.
Finally, she pulled back; struggling to catch her breath. “Uhm . . . penance. Paid up. Right?” They had to stop this before one of the dance class mamas showed up and either called the police or threatened Alberti—or both.
“Nay, lass.” The emotions flashing in his eyes left no doubt that her penance had just begun.
CHAPTER12
Thank the gods, Lilia had suggested changing back into their regular clothes before they went to the stable. A rock-hard cock and that damnable codpiece did not make for comfort. The wicked cup had nearly beheaded his aching member. Graham rolled his shoulders and yanked at the snug crotch of his jeans. These damn trews were nearly as bad. What the hell had happened to a man and the freedom found in soft leather trews and a freely flowing plaid? His poor bollocks couldn’t breathe and his cock wasn’t faring much better either.
“I’m a thinking ye best be striking whilst the iron is hot, I do.” Angus fell into step beside him and elbowed him in the ribs. “And I owe ye greatly for the heat of that kiss back yonder.”
“What the hell are ye talking around?” Graham shoved through a swinging gate opening into the largest covered paddock he had ever seen in his life. A great dirt plot was fitted with its own metal roof and walls—larger than the entire walled-in grounds surrounding MacKenna Keep. Who would have thought to build such a thing?
“Mistress Vivienne has grown quite friendly since watching ye fill yer hands with Mistress Lilia’s fine bit a round arse.” Angus’s face fairly glowed as he threw out his chest and rolled up on the balls of his feet with each hopping step.
Graham spun, grabbed Angus by the throat, and shoved him back against the railing. “I’ll rip yer disrespectful tongue out of yer head if ye ever speak in such a way again.” No one talked about his Lilia in such a way. No one. Graham rattled him again, jerking Angus so hard that the man’s head bounced back against the wall behind the railing. “Never again. D’ye understand?”
Angus squirmed to be free, hands flailing in the air as he sputtered and spit. “Forgive! I spoke ill without thinking.” He coughed and wheezed in a strained gulp of air as Graham’s grip tightened around his throat. “Meant no harm, man . . . I swear it! Willna happen . . . ever again.”
