“I’m not finished arguing,” Gabriel stated from behind her.
She refused to turn around, digging her feet in harder. “I am. Stop manhandling me, ye brute!”
“No.” Hands wrapped around her waist, and then her feet left the floor entirely.
“And ye English callusheathens!” she snapped, twisting to swing a fist at him.
He dodged the blow, and she struck empty air. Hoisting her up, he carried her back into the office and slammed the door closed with one foot. Only then did he set her down onto the edge of the desk. “Now,” he said, grabbing both her wrists in one of his big hands, “where were we?”
Fiona kept her mouth clamped shut and glared at him. She’d spent her life surrounded by men who were bigger and stronger than she was, and she’d never given an inch. She wasn’t about to begin doing so today, even if it cost her the stewardship at MacKittrick.
“Very well. I’m not much for talking, anyway.” Without another word he took her face in his palms and kissed her.
She tried to keep her mouth closed, to not kiss him back. The heat of him, though, seared straight through her skin and into her muscles and bones.
All of her logical, annoyed thoughts about the trouble he meant to leave behind for her to deal with, the way he thoughtthiswould win him the argument, melted in a steamy haze of openmouthed kisses. The force of his embrace tilted her head back, and she grabbed onto his lapels to keep from losing her balance. Sharp, heady desire swirled down her spine, making her fingers clench.
When he stepped between her knees, she could feel his arousal pushing at her even with his trousers and her skirt between them.Saints above. She’d laid out his strategy, clearly stated that she knew he wouldn’t be staying—that hecouldn’tbe staying, not with his thoughts already shifting to his next, faraway battle. Gabriel hadn’t bothered to disagree with her, either, because how could he? They both knew it to be the truth.
And yet she still couldn’t stop herself from kissing him back. She wanted every ounce of his attention. She wanted to feel his hard, fit body on hers, to trace his scars with her fingers and learn what he’d done to earn them. And he had earned them, every one of them. Someone with his drive and ferocity wouldn’t have been wounded foolishly. He’d been set on his task, his duty, and someone—someones—had gotten in his way. She had no doubt they’d paid an even higher price than he had.
“Tell me you want me,” he whispered against her mouth, running a hand up her thigh and drawing her skirt with it.
It was entirely possible she’d become another challenge for him, another battle for him to win. She was no one’s damned prize, and he would never conquer her. But however he saw her, she had her own wants. And he was one of them. “I do want ye,” she returned, pushing off his coat and then pulling his plain shirt free of his trousers so she could run her hands up his bare chest. “Ye’re naught but bad fer me, but I want ye.”
“Unbutton my trousers,” he ordered, his mouth drifting down to her throat. He tugged down one side of her muslin gown and took her left breast into his mouth.
Fiona gasped, pleasure spearing through her. He knew what he was about, thank all the saints and sinners. “I’m nae one of yer soldiers,” she managed in between moans, rocking against him. “Ye cannae order me aboot.”
His fingers continued their trail up her thigh, dancing through her curls until he spread her open and dipped inside. “You’re wet for me, Fiona,” he murmured, and flicked his tongue across her taut nipple. “Open my trousers.”
With an unsteady sigh, dragging her fingers through his hair to keep his mouth pressed to her breast, she decided arguing with him now would be counterproductive. The buttons were stubborn, but she managed to open the trio of them and shove his trousers down past his thighs.
“Put your hands—”
“Shut up,” she interrupted, and wrapped one hand around his girth to stroke the length of him.Mmm.Another electric shiver settled between her thighs.
His fingers jumped and then returned to his intimate stroking. They could likely make a contest over who would come first, but she wanted that warm, generously sized cock inside her before he let loose.
“You’ve done this before,” he commented in a low moan, half closing his eyes as she stroked him again.
“And do ye have an objection to that?” she asked, breathing hard as his entire body shivered beneath her ministrations.
“I do not.”
“Wise words, Sassenach.”
Tugging her arms free of her dress, he pushed the material down to her waist, then dipped to tease at both her breasts with his mouth and one free hand. At the same time he slid the fingers of his other hand deeper, pressing his palm against her mound.
“God’s sake, Gabriel, get to it before I faint dead away, will ye?”
He took her mouth again, tangling his tongue with hers, then shifted his hands to shove her skirt up over her hips. She lifted against him, and he freed the material from beneath her bottom, leaving her entire gown bunched about her waist.
“Miss Fiona!” Fleming the butler’s frantic-sounding voice came from the direction of the stairs. Fleetingly she wondered how long he’d been calling for her. “Fiona! Where are ye, lass? It’s urgent, it is!”
Gabriel lowered his head against her shoulder. “Fuck,” he said, very quietly and very forcefully.
Then before she could make her mind work enough to say that she needed to answer the butler, he took her sleeves and helped her shove her arms back into them. His cock still jutting out from beneath the hem of his shirt, he lifted her off the desk to the floor and brushed at her skirt to settle it back down past her ankles.
