“Ye were putting yerself in danger.”
“I was worried about ye.”
“I am a grown man. I can protect meself. I daenae need yer worry.”
She certainly knew that.
Her eyes drifted to his naked chest, and just as quickly, they darted away. But not before William caught her ogling him. His lips stretched into a dangerous grin.
“I ken ye are,” she muttered.
“Maybe,” William drawled, prowling even closer, his eyes smoldering, “ye just wanted to see me without a shirt on.”
“I daenae ken what ye’re talking about,” she replied, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“Ye certainly do.” He let out a dark chuckle. The sound did crazy things to her insides. “Ye didnae need to go through the trouble of ruining me clothes. Ye just had to ask.”
“I didnae—” she started to protest, but he was not listening, his eyes locked on her lips with scalding intensity.
The next thing she knew, he pulled her to him, slanted his mouth over hers, and kissed her, stealing her breath and thoughts.
The heat that had been simmering exploded between them until she could think of nothing other than the overwhelming urge to get closer to him, to tear off her clothes so she could feel the warmth of his skin.
What she lacked in experience, she made up for in enthusiasm. She opened her mouth when his tongue teased her lips,demanding entry. Then his tongue was tangling with hers, fighting for dominance, ratcheting up their desire even higher.
By the time he broke their kiss, she realized that she had wrapped her arms and legs around his neck and waist, virtually climbing him.
Embarrassed, she immediately let go, fighting to regain control of her senses. She made the mistake of looking at him, only to find naked hunger in his eyes. The hand on the nape of her neck began caressing her, fanning the flames of the desire she was fighting to control.
“If I didnae ken better,” he said in a husky voice, “I would have thought this was yer first kiss.”
“Perhaps because it is,” she whispered, enjoying the shock on his face.
“But ye have been married several times?—”
“None of them had lived long enough to consummate the marriage.”
“So ye are an innocent,” he purred, his smile sinful and promising pleasure.
He moved even closer, his breath fanning her neck, before taking her earlobe between his teeth, nibbling on it until she struggled not to give in and beg him to take her.
“Ye are so responsive, so innocent,” he mummured against her ear. “Ye should ken better than to tangle with a man like me, lass. If ye play too close to the fire, ye might get burned.”
With that, he strode out, leaving her to gather the pieces of her composure. It certainly did not help that his last words kept echoing in her mind.
She would not mind burning in the passion she had glimpsed in his eyes.
By the time Poppy returned, she felt more grounded and less like the wanton that had almost begged William to ravish her.
“Poppy,” she said quietly, “While I appreciate yer desire to protect me, I daenae want to lose ye, and the new Laird is likely to send ye away if an incident like this happens again. I daenae want that. I can handle me own problems.”
She could, as soon as she could prevent herself from falling easily for William’s charms.
8
The preparations for the cèilidh began with a little chaos. However, it was not the chaos that came with the tasks per se.
Situations like these weren’t new for Sorcha. She had managed a castle before, oversaw servants, and had transformed a hall from bare stone to splendor without breaking a sweat.
