He knew what she was doing, even if she didn’t. Unconsciously using her feminine wiles on him. She’d already proved how much she could affect him, by putting herself between him and Allan earlier. But she was doomed to failure. He would never allow a woman to control his actions. It was a lesson she needed to learn.
The air was thick with tension. He leaned closer, towering over her, letting her feel his heat. “What are you offering?”
The color slid from her cheeks, and she tried to back away. But she stumbled on the uneven rocks, and he reached out to catch her, wrapping her in a fierce embrace. He felt the furious flutter of her heart against his, like a bird caught in a trap. His trap.
“You m-misunderstand,” she stammered.
He traced his fingers down her throat and over the frantic pulse. “Do I?” He held her gaze. “I don’t think so.”
He’d waited long enough. Whatever control he had over his passion had been undone by the exquisite feel of holding her in his arms. His hand snaked behind her neck, and he plunged his fingers through the silky waves of her hair, warmed from the sun, bringing her mouth hard against his with a deep guttural groan. The relief was overwhelming. Her scent. Her taste. The sensation of her soft lips under his. The tightness inside him burst in a slow gush of heat that spread through his veins, and his cock swelled hot and hard against her. He’d been waiting for this for too long.
This time, he did not hold back. It was no gentle wooing, but an explosion of passion. His mouth moved over hers with swift possession as he kissed her with all of the raw hunger raging inside him. He pulled her closer, his fingers caressing the baby soft skin of her neck as he urged her jaw open with his thumb.
And she melted against him. Opening her mouth. Taking him in. Making sweet little sounds of pleasure that drove him wild.
He sank into her, kissing her harder, trying to quench the impossible lust that would not be sated. His tongue delved deep into her mouth, stroking, tasting, devouring, until her tongue entwined with his and she returned his stroke with a parry of her own. It was hot and wet and wickedly carnal. And a little bit rough. Just the way he liked it.
God, it felt good. So damn good. He’d known how it would be between them, but never could he have imagined the powerful feelings surging through him—unfamiliar feelings of possession, tenderness, and longing.
He couldn’t get enough. His lips trailed over her mouth, her jaw, her neck, tasting every inch of her fevered skin.
She sagged against him in sweet surrender. Her hands were on his shoulders, his arms, his back. Feeling him. Clutching him. He felt her passion rise up to meet him, returning his passion with a fervor of her own.
Her kisses were sweet and innocent and utterly potent, but he wanted more. His tongue was in her mouth, deep in her mouth, and his hand was on her breast, squeezing her gently in his palm as he thrust with his tongue. Her breasts were magnificent; he cursed the fabric and stays, wishing he could feel the soft, full weight of all that naked flesh in his hands. His thumb caressed the hard peak of her nipple, and she moaned, arching against his hand.
It was too much. It wasn’t enough. Her soft whimpers of pleasure sent a bolt of lust straight to his groin. He slid his hand down to her bottom, lifting her against him. His erection was rock hard and throbbing as their bodies came together. She rubbed against him, and his knees almost buckled.
He wanted to open her up and fill her. To make her tremble. To make her come as she cried out his name. To make her his. He wanted it more than anything he’d ever wanted in his life.
So much so that it shook him. This clawing need for her.
When she melted against him, touched him, kissed him, she could make him do almost anything. She could bring him to his knees with one kiss.
Hell.He wrenched away with a growl, his body pounding as he fought for control. Never had he felt more threatened, by anyone. “What do you want from me?” he said hoarsely, wanting to take back the words as soon as they were uttered.
“I…,” she gasped, her face stricken as he watched her grapple with what had just happened. Of how they’d come together in a hot burst of flames. And of how easily she’d succumbed. Her eyes rounded. “I don’t know.”
There it was. The crack that he’d been waiting for. He should be happy. She wanted him. He’d won. But it didn’t feel like a victory. He felt like the one who’d lost.
She spun around and started to climb up the hill toward the keep, but not before he saw the look on her face. The truth horrified her. As it did him. She wanted him as much as he wanted her—with an uncompromising intensity that could not be denied.
He’d wanted to teach her a lesson, but it was he who’d been cautioned. Passion worked both ways. In using it against her, he’d been the one burned. She’d gotten under his skin, and he didn’t like it. But it wouldn’t change anything. He wouldn’t let it.
She scrambled up the shore, moving purposefully up the rocky crags.
“Flora,” he called out. She stopped but didn’t turn. “Next time you make an offer like that, I won’t refuse.”
She flinched, and then she ran.
Chapter 7
“Ouch, you stepped on my toe, you big oaf.”
Flora bit back a smile. The outrage on Gilly’s face was really quite comical. As was the look of fury on her partner’s face. Poor Murdoch. It had taken quite some convincing to get him here in the first place, and now Gilly was about to make Flora’s prodigious efforts come to naught.
Though the lad could still barely look Flora in the eye without blushing, he seemed to take delight in tormenting Gilly. Not to mention ungraciously lording his two additional years over her.
“I warned you, my lady,” Murdoch said. “Court dances are not for warriors. Men don’t dance like we have a rod up our ars—” He stopped at her frown.
