Page 16 of A Dangerous Highland Affair

And the memory of his touch lingered fiercely on her lips and cheeks long after, setting fire to her abdomen with wild abandon.

Neacal’s scent lingered in the air, teasing Teasag and tempting her further in. He was just waiting there, ripe for her touch like a juicy apple on a low hanging bough. Just when she was unable to resist any longer and sure he was going to kiss her, he suddenly stopped.

All of Teasag’s senses screamed out to be touched. She could think of nothing else but to be stroked, caressed, and even picked up by Neacal. Visions of him kissing her with passion came into her mind. Whatever he had done to her had unleashed a violent passion that she was not expecting.

It took all her willpower not to grab him and kiss him again. But somehow, she did not.

Instead, Neacal smiled at her oddly. “Well then, Miss,” he said as if she were a mere stranger he had just bumped into on the street. “I’ll bid ye good day!”

Raising his hat, he was gone, leaving Teasag blinking as if fairy dust had been thrown into her eyes.

He had to get away from this girl. As far away as possible.

Neacal turned and sped away from the narrow street with his heart beating fast and rejoined the procession thronging through the main street to the town.

The scent of her hair still filled his senses, and the imprint of the girl’s lips still bore into his own. He didn’t want to wash it off but knew if he stayed, he would never be able to leave.

Pulling himself away from her had been the hardest thing. Even though he barely knew the girl, he felt a bond. This perplexed and stimulated Neacal in equal measure.

Girls were nothing new in his world. He was always picking them up, and then, rather like worn clothing, discarding them again. He picked a girl to suit his mood. Sometimes she would be bold and flirtatious, other times, comely and coy. And that was fine; that was how he liked it. He delved in and out of them like a book, intermittently following their stories and then leaving them when he was bored. Which always happened.

But what he’d experienced last night had never happened to him before. And he had thought he’d seen it all.

With the scent of the woman still on his lips, Neacal sped away, losing himself in a chaotic procession of sheep, running hither and thither through the side streets.

Slowing to a walk, Neacal gave a sigh. He shouldn’t have just taken off like that, but what else could he do?

His situation did not lend itself to fellow travelers. He could not afford to invite anyone in, not even briefly, to his world.

And God knows why, because it had only been a kiss—a shallow, perfunctory one at that. Something that he might do with any lassie, even an old maid if he thought it might flatter her.

So why did he feel like all his senses were on fire? Turning into a cobbled street, Neacal almost tripped over an errant sheep that catapulted into him from out of nowhere. The streets were alive with an energy rarely seen in the Highlands, with folk coming from all around to show their wares. Right then, Neacal was glad of the distraction. He needed a place to hide, not just from the men who pursued him, but from the madness in his heart.

As he disappeared into the thronging crowds, Neacal slipped into anonymity once again, even if momentarily. What he really wanted to do was to turn around and look at her, but now she would be out of sight.

Neacal headed off, his chest-thumping and his hands shaking. The tremor he was feeling had come like a bolt out of the blue. Struggling to get a grip of himself, Neacal walked quickly up the hill and away from the crowds' main throb.

Picking his way through the cobbled roads, his mind settled. What had just happened to him?

One minute, he was bidding her goodbye, and the next, well… The kiss might have been brief, but it had exploded something inside of him. And now, Neacal was struggling to cope with its fallout.

Until that moment, he’d no idea that it was possible to feel this way about anything, let alone a woman. But ever since the moment he’d clapped eyes on Teasag, something had changed within him.

From the second he’d seen her getting out the rickety milk cart, he’d been alerted to her presence. Then when she had turned up in the tavern, being set upon by the uncouth men, he’d felt it again.

Something had awoken inside him. This feeling wasn’t something that Neacal understood. It wasn’t just going to the aid of a lassie in need—he would have done that regardless. But afterward, when he should have left, he couldn’t.

There was something about this woman that made him stay and then want to stay even longer. It had been second nature for him to spend the night guarding the door to her bedroom.

Then, there were the thimbles. Normally something like that falling into his hands would have been a gift from God. But something told him to take them back to her.

Whether his conscience or the opportunity to see her again, it had made him voluntarily hand over what would normally have been his bread and butter. And he would have done it again in a heartbeat.

In the last twelve hours, something had changed within him, and it wasn’t a change he was happy about.

There was no room for more complications in Neacal’s life. And a woman like Teasag would definitely be a complication.

CHAPTER SEVEN