Page 22 of The Story of his Highland Bride
A moan slipped from his lips as he tugged down the neckline of her dress and, hooking his finger under a strange, gauzy black fabric, he pulled aside her peculiar undergarment and freed her breast. His head dipped to draw a pert nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, satisfying his desire to taste her. And she was far sweeter than he ever could have imagined.
She clawed at his back, her neck arching as a soft cry shuddered out of her, spurring him on. His hands wandered wherever they pleased, caressing the curves of her, gripping the swell of her buttocks, resting upon her hips to urge them closer to his. Indeed, he was so carried away by the enchantment of her, that he forgot they were in a very public hallway, though hidden in something of a recess.
A moment later, she grabbed his face and pulled it back up; her lips descending on his, devouring him with a ferocious kiss thatsent him into a frenzy. He had to have her. He had to know what she felt like, and what other mysterious wonders she could reveal to him, even if it was all just an enchantment. He had to know how beyond the ordinary she was.
Touched with the madness she sparked within him, he grasped for her skirts, gathering them up to the middle of her thighs. As he kissed her with a desperation that terrified him, he slid his hand further up the soft, smoothness of her thighs, reveling in the silky sensation. He had anticipated a barrier of drawers, but as he continued to caress her secret skin, he found nothing in his way… not until he reached something very peculiar indeed.
Thin fabric greeted his touch, so high up her thigh that he was practically at her hips, and a caress to the left would have brought his fingertips to the hidden source of her pleasure. Puzzled, he glanced down, discovering a manner of undergarment he had never seen before. They were black and lacy and utterly overwhelming, for they left nothing to the imagination.
“Is something wrong?” Eloise panted, as he slid his hand underneath the unusual fabric, his fingertips stealing a mischievous squeeze of her pert backside. Her skin intoxicated him, and not just because of that unbearably delicious scent that followed her around.
He shook his head. “There’s nothin’ wrong, but—”
He trailed off, thinking of everything she had told him. There were too many strange things about her, strange things that hecould not explain, and though it was utterly impossible, he had to begin to consider the notion that she had been telling him the truth about where she hailed from. After all, undergarments like hers would never have passed the judgment of the likes of Father Hepburn, yet she did not seem to think there was anything the matter with such things at all.
Cradling his neck, she kissed him again, drawing him back under her spell. He kissed her back, reveling in the ease with which he could touch her, enjoying the slight roughness of her undergarments against his skin as he explored, bringing his fingertips back to the spot that would surely make her cry out in pleasure.
Before he could, however, he heard footsteps approaching. Still at a distance but nearing quickly.
It took every speck of willpower he possessed to pull away from Eloise, and remember to drop her skirts back down to cover her legs. Breathing hard, he glanced up the hallway, but whoever had been walking there must have taken a different turn, heading down another hallway. Still, the moment had been interrupted, and likely not a second too soon.
“Ye need to return to yer chamber,” he growled, bending his head to kiss her neck one more time. “Stay there until I send for ye, or Kaitlyn says ye can emerge. If ye daenae—”
“If I don’t, you’ll what? Come on, please say we’re not back to that again?” She narrowed her eyes at him as she adjusted her neckline, her breath just as ragged and passionate as his own.
He shook his head. “If ye daenae stay in yer chamber, I cannae trust meself to leave ye alone. Stay there for yer own sake, and for mine.” He pulled her out of the recess and gave her a light push down the hallway. “Go, or we’ll both regret it.”
For a moment, she did not move; she just stared at him, as if she was peeling away every layer of his clothing to get to the man beneath. Beneath her gaze, he had never felt so naked, though it was not the kind of naked he had pictured a short while ago. It was more like she was assessing him, judging him, trying to figure out what manner of man he was.
“I’ll leave, but I won’t be locked up again,” she told him, at last. “You keep that key out of my keyhole, and if you’re so afraid of what might happen, I suggest you stay far away from my wing of the castle.”
Ye could be on the other side of the country, and it wouldn’ae stop me mind from comin’ to ye,his thoughts whispered, his loins still ablaze.
“Ye willnae be locked in,” he promised, his voice thick.
With a slight dip of her head, she turned and walked away. He watched her the entire time, until she took a right-hand turn and disappeared from his view. Only then did he allow himself to breathe, though a dip in an ice cold loch would have been far better, to temper the heat of his desire. The temptation had not faded after satisfaction. If anything, he wanted her more, prompting him to dig his fingernails into his palms to stop himself from following her to her bedchamber, there and then.
Deciding that he wouldtake an evening ride to clear his head and cool his skin, he headed for the stables, telling her silently,I’m nae the wolf ye think I am, but ye’ve surely set a beast loose.
And if he was to save himself, he needed to visit Clava Cairns, for only those ancient stones could hold the answers now.
13
The next morning, Eloise awoke in an armchair that was no longer beside the fireplace, but angled at the end of the bed, facing the door. After all the spiced, sweet wine she’d enjoyed with dinner, and through the headache now throbbing in her skull, it took her a few minutes to remember the events of the night before.
“What an idiot,” she muttered, rubbing her temples.
She’d waited for Jackson to come, had dreamed of him striding through the door to finish what they’d started, but as she’d gotten sleepier, she’d made the tipsy decision to drag the armchair to the bed so she wouldn’t miss him when he arrived. Only, considering she’d woken up alone, she guessed he hadn’t. All she had were aching arms from hauling the armchair, and a searing memory of his kiss on her lips.
“Great plan, Longman.” She held her head in her hands, ranting at the hardwood floors. “Did you think he was going to waltz inand sweep you off your feet? Give you a reason to stay in the bloody past, huh? All the incredible kisses in the world aren’t going to make running water and electricity a thing here!”
But there’d been electricity in that hallway recess. Earth-shattering bolts of it, charging through her body, making her feel more alive than she’d done in years. It was, without doubt, the best kiss she’d ever had… though she didn’t have too much to compare it to, considering she’d been with Peter since university, and before that—nothing serious or memorable.
If Jackson had come to this room, it might’ve been the best night of my life,she mused, touching her fingertips to her lips, struggling to hold onto the clarity of every fiery detail.
It had almost gone further than a kiss in the hallway, and she smiled as she remembered his obvious confusion when he’d discovered her underwear. But the smile faded quickly, wondering if she’d dodged a bullet. After all, she didn’twantto be given a reason to stay; she had a life to get back to, such as it was. And though she was a hopeless romantic at heart, and always had been, falling for a brooding, 18thcentury Laird who kissed like he’d wandered straight out of her wildest imagination wasn’t just hopeless, it was downright insane.
This is the heartbreak talking. If Peter hadn’t done what he did, and this had happened to me, I wouldn’t be looking twice at Jackson,she told herself, fully aware that it was a blatant lie. No one could meet Jackson and not take a second, third, fourth, thousandth look.
