She looked him in the eye, seeing the warring emotions there. Her heart leaped at the thought that he did want to kiss her, but she also felt the prick of uneasiness that he might reject her again. Either way, she had to take a leap of faith. “Please,” she whispered. “Kiss mah.” She had never begged for anything before in her life, but right now all she wanted to feel was his lips on hers.
Remy’s eyes grew heated. “Lass, ye dinna know wot ye are asking for.”
Gretna let out a harsh laugh. “Oh, I think I know exactly wot I am asking for and if ye donna kiss mah right now, Remy Wallace, I will find someone who will.” She wanted him to kiss her, to be the first on her lips, but if he refused to do so, she wasn’t going to take his rejection lying down. “Surely there are others.”
Remy let out a growl and before Gretna knew what was happening, his hand was sliding against her cheek and into her hair, his eyes flashing with anger. “There will be no other Scot on yer lips, lass.”
Her breath got caught and Gretna could scarcely let out a squeak as his lips descended on hers.
11
She was lost. Gretna felt the slight pressure on her lips, the way that Remy was now cradling her face with those massive hands of his as he tasted every inch of her lips. It was exactly what she had anticipated her first kiss to be; passionate, gentle and something she wished for.
Her hands slid into his hair and he growled against her lips as she felt the soft strands between her fingers, her body moving ever closer to his. There was a heat pooling in her stomach, one that threatened to consume Gretna and it was because of this man before her.
She wanted more.
Remy’s thumb stroked her jaw. “Open for mah, lass,” he murmured against her lips. “Let mah taste ye.”
Gretna opened her mouth and his tongue swept in, tasting of mint and ale, his hand sliding to the back of her neck and holding her in place. Gretna heard a moan come from somewhere and she realized it was from her, her hands now tugging on his hair in an attempt to pull him closer. The kiss was exhilarating, nothing like she had ever anticipated for it to be and when Remy pulled away, Gretna whimpered at the loss.
“Bloody hell,” he whispered, his chest heaving as he looked down at her.
She winced. “Was it bad? I’ve never kissed anyone before and I’m not sure.”
Remy silenced her with a quick kiss. “Nay, lass, ye were perfect.”
Gretna blushed, slowly removing her hands from his hair. Remy was impossibly close to her, so close that she could see the mess of freckles along his collarbone, a scar right at his neck as if someone had tried to cut his throat. It didn’t detract from his handsomeness, but when she ran a finger along the faint line, he exhaled and reached up, grasping her finger. “Gretna.”
“Wot happened?” she asked, looking up at him.
He shook his head. “Misunderstanding.”
“Wot sort of misunderstanding could a knife be held tae yer throat?”
Remy’s throat worked and he closed his eyes. “I was in the bed of a married lass. Her husband came home early.”
Oh. Gretna’s throat worked, but she didn’t move from her spot. “Well, that was unfortunate.”
Remy let out a husky laugh, his fingers unfurling from hers and causing her hand to drop on his chest instead. “Aye, it was. I dinna know she was wed.”
“Would ye had visited her bed anyway?” Gretna asked hesitantly. She had heard the rumors about Remy from the unmarried and the married women, how he was all they could wish for in their bed but Gretna was now curious as to why.
His laugh grew choked. “I’m not having this conversation with ye, lass.”
She decided not to press him, her hand sliding from his chest and over another scar. Remy’s body shuddered under her touch and Gretna was surprised, her eyes flying to his. “I… I’m sorry,”she fumbled, stepping back. She shouldn’t be touching him so. They had just shared a kiss, nothing more.
Remy’s hands grasped her waist and he hauled her back against him. “Nay, lass, I like yer touches.”
“Ye do?” she asked, suddenly pleased. “I donna know wot tae do.” She felt so inexperienced next to him.
He leaned back until he could look at her, his eyes full of tenderness that made her heart ache. “Ye should go tae her chamber, Gretna.”
She didn’t want to. Pushing out of his arms she placed her hands on her hips. “I’m tired of doing wot I’m supposed tae do!” She was tired of being perfect all the time and not following what seemed to be natural. This seemed natural to her, being here with Remy yet he was telling her that she shouldn’t. “I want this. I want ye.”
Remy went still.
“I want ye tae make mah feel,” she continued, the words rushing out. “I want ye tae show mah that it’s okay not tae be perfect.” A tear escaped down her cheek and she angrily dashed it away. Now was not the time for her to cry, even if they were angry tears. Tonight had shown her that no matter what she did, or how she followed the rules, those around her weren’t going to do the same so why should she?
