He spoke the vows that would bind them together for a year. “I, Roderick MacLeod, Chief of MacLeod, do pledge my troth to Isabel MacDonald and with this handfast do hereby covenant to take her to wife for the period of no less than one year.”
Isabel repeated the vows, and it was done. Except for one part.
“What are you waiting for, MacLeod?” Sleat taunted. “Aren’t you going to kiss the bride?”
Rory tensed, knowing that it was necessary. He was reluctant. Not because he didn’t want to kiss her, but because of how much he ached to do so. To taste her. To sample the forbidden fruit of her delectable mouth.
Cheeks flaming, Isabel stared at her toes, the tips of her silver slippers just peeking out from below the embroidered edge of her gown.
“Aye,” he said, slipping a finger under her chin. “A kiss to seal our vows.”
Slowly he lowered his mouth, pausing for an instant to inhale her flowery scent before his lips touched hers. He almost moaned as the rush of desire flooded his body with heat.Dear God,she tasted sweet.
And she was unbearably soft. Her skin was pure velvet under his fingertips.
He lingered, the urge to deepen the kiss primal. He wanted to draw her into his arms and crush her full breasts against his hard chest. To feel the shape of her hips as she pressed against his heavy groin. To plunge his tongue into the sweet cavern of her mouth and drink.
Yet somehow he held back.
Slowly, he lifted his mouth. Gazing at her face tilted to his, the rosy flush of passion spread across her cheeks, her lips still gently parted, Rory knew a dark moment of almost uncontrollable desire. Desire that gnawed at every inch of his body with a crushing, overpowering intensity.
For the first time in his life, Rory MacLeod—a man who’d faced scores of fearsome warriors on the battlefield and driven his enemies to their knees with terror—knew alarm.
He dropped his hand from her chin and took a step back.Thatwouldn’t happen again.
Isabel had never been kissed before, and she was completely unprepared for the all-consuming intensity of the experience. His rough fingers cradled her face with such tenderness, a sharp pang of longing tugged deep in her chest. And when his lips brushed hers, she knew a moment of pure heaven. A moment of connection so powerful, it frightened her—making her body feel almost not her own. She’d never imagined how a kiss could possess.
With one gentle touch he branded her.
His lips were so much softer than she’d imagined, completely incongruous with the hard, implacable chief. He tasted…delicious. His warm, spicy breath engulfed her senses as he pressed his mouth more firmly against hers.
Her heart fluttered high in her chest and her body seemed to soften as sensation washed over her. She felt weak. Boneless. And wonderfully warm with the swell of burgeoning desire. For a moment she forgot the lie that had brought them together. She forgot the presence of her family and surrendered to the force of a more powerful calling.
She wanted more.
She sank against him, leaning her body closer to his. Close enough to feel the heat radiating from him and sense the strength barely harnessed under the powerful façade. He was big and hard, making her deeply aware of her own femininity.
For one precious instant it seemed as if he was going to wrap her in his muscular arms and deepen the kiss. His mouth moved over hers and the rough stubble of his jaw scraped over her skin, sending ripples of anticipation shuddering through her. His fingers tightened on her jaw as he pulled her closer. Unconsciously her lips parted, knowing there was something more.
Perhaps he noticed her reaction, for he stiffened and abruptly pulled his mouth from hers. Just before he released her, his dazzling sapphire eyes had briefly studied her upturned face. Her chin barely came to the middle of his chest. Isabel thought she glimpsed a smoldering fire in his gaze, but the aloof blank shutter dropped back into place, shielding any emotion.
He dropped his hand from her face, and the spell was broken.
He’d barely looked at her since. In fact, he seemed enthralled by the conversation of her father on his right and the lovely dark-haired woman seated next to Glengarry.
Unfortunately, Isabel was not nearly so indifferent.
Peering from under her thick eyelashes at the man seated next to her, she felt strangely aware of her new handfast husband. Indeed, she’d been aware of him since the moment she’d stepped out of the keep this morning, his tawny hair shimmering in the sunlight. He drew the eye like a fiery beacon on a moonless night, the magnificence of his presence not merely a result of his stature, but flowing from the aura of authority that surrounded him. He held himself like a king. A man born to rule.
Of all the men gathered in thebarmkinfor the ceremony, he was the only one who hadn’t seemed bothered by her late arrival. Apparently, his confidence extended to her.
Hers, however, had been shattered. After that heart-stopping kiss, Isabel drifted through the rest of the day in a bewildered haze. Vaguely, she recalled sharing the ceremonial glass of wine and returning to the keep for the signing of the contract between her father and the MacLeod, making it official. She was his for a year.
But only a year. She’d do best to remember it, no matter how thrilling his kiss.
Although she knew that their handfast was but a temporary bond, sitting at the dais in the great hall observing the jubilant celebration feast around her, she felt oddly unsettled. She could almost believe it was a marriage in truth, blessed for eternity. Isabel forced herself to remember that it was all a sham, no matter how official it seemed. The contract, the ceremony, even the dress, were all part of her uncle’s plan. The handfast was only a way out when her job was done.
This day was a farce. She had dreamed of the happiness of her wedding day since she was a little girl. Yet even with all the suitors she was presented with at court, she despaired of ever finding the right man. In many ways, Rory MacLeod epitomized the proud, handsome man she had imagined herself someday falling in love with and marrying. Just her luck. The first man to ever really intrigue her was the one she absolutely could not have. Of course, she reminded herself, he was not the man of her dreams.
