Page 16 of What a Highlander’s Got to Do

And then, when she thought she might expire from the agony, he gave it to her. A touch of his fingers, a lap from his tongue. A tiny suckle, but it was enough.

As though he were a master musician and she were a violin and he knew just how to play her.

She released in a blinding shaft of glory and light. Something heavenly and profound. Something she was certain no woman had ever known before.

How could they, and ever do anything but this?

He held her as she recovered, stroking her gently and murmuring into her ears.

“Are you all right?” he asked, finally, when her breathing had calmed.

“Oh, Nick. That was splendid.”

Still, she knew, there was more. Something more he was withholding from her. If there was a God in heaven, she would have time to tease it from him.

He grinned, self-satisfied. “You liked it then?”

“Of course I did. But I do wish you dinna stop.”

“I had to. It wouldn’t have gone that far if I’d known . . .”

“Damn and blast my virginity,” she said, almost as a joke.

He smiled and kissed her nose. “I honor your virginity.”

“It’s pointless, considering.” She sat up and rearranged her dress so she wasn’t blatantly exposed.

He sat as well, and stared at her. “Considering what?”

“Why, that I’m never getting married, of course.”

“You’re never getting married?” Why did he sound so surprised? Or was that disappointment?

“Of course not.”

“There’s no of course about it. Everyone gets married.”

“Do they?”

“Don’t you want children?”

She sniffed. “My mother didn’t need a husband to have one.”

He blinked. “I . . . what?”

“It’s true.”

“I know it’s possible,” he said after a moment. “But not the easy path.”

She flashed him a smile. “I am a Dounreay lass,” she said. “As my mother says, we never take the easy path.”

Chapter Four

Dounreay.

Not Lochlannach.

A certain relief scudded through him, although he wasn’t sure why. As a matter of principle, he did not toy with virgins, but he couldn’t silence the little devil in the back of his mind, which kept whispering that if she were, indeed, not the Lochlannach lass, a seduction would have fewer consequences.