Page 24 of The Highlander's Temporary Bride
Chills raced down her spine at the sound of that low, hoarse whisper. The voice was rough, too rough, and she should’ve fled. But like the austerity of the castle, there was a note to it that warmed and intrigued her, like a spark of fire on a distant winter day.
Slowly, she turned around, and her eyes went wide.
Laird Ronson stood behind her, leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs. Swallowing hard, Emma felt her hands shake and hastily put down the candle on a nearby table. She sensed him watching her every move, waiting, and she tried to gather her thoughts as she looked up at him.
Lifting her chin, she asked, “So, you can speak?”
One raised eyebrow was all she got in return.
“Oh. Of course, you can. And?—”
Seven nights.
Eyes wide, every muscle in her body tense, every nerve-ending burning, she made to flee when he easily stepped in front of her.
“You are mad,” she spat and then gasped as her back hit the stone wall. “Absolutely, roaring mad. Out of your mind, Sir.”
“And why am I mad, Emma Wells?”
Emma sucked in a breath, her stomach fluttering and her thighs pressing together as he took a lazy step forward. To hear him speak was one thing, but toseehim speakandhear that wicked, sensual voice… it almost made her spiral into his madness.
“I shall not give myself to you simply out of some gratitude you think I owe you.” Her lip curled. “You are no savior. I asked you to let me go.”
Laird Ronson took a step closer and folded his arms across his chest, leaning down to look at her.
Emma flattened herself against the wall, aware that a mere hair’s breadth was between her bosom and the man’s chest, and her palms felt clammy.
“D’ye truly think I need to trap a lass for what ye are imaginin’?” he asked. Then, he leaned down further, smiling slightly, and his eyes roved over her reddening face. She sucked in a breath as he put his lips to her ear. “I dinnae even need words, Emma.”
Emma’s chest rose and fell, even as she tried to slow her breathing and will the roaring inferno in her veins and belly to simmer down.
As he leaned back, smirking at her, she cursed her traitorous heart for fluttering. And she knew the rogue could see the flush on her face.
You know he speaks the truth,a voice whispered in her head.Or your body does.
“What exactly do you want, then?” she asked.
He did not answer, so she tried to step away, but his big hands suddenly landed on the wall on either side of her.
“What…?”
All her awareness seemed to surge to her lips as he lowered his head. Emma felt her body arch toward him, a dizzying spark of desire and excitement setting her on fire.
Will he kiss me now?
CHAPTER 11
Grant thoughtthat Emma would look down or try to flee again. He did anticipate her gazing back at him, not with such fearlessness. He felt a tug in his belly, and he pressed his hands harder against the wall as he watched her blue eyes dance with an impishness that he wanted to taste and a curiosity he wanted to satisfy.
When she bit her lip lightly, he almost groaned. He leaned down further, but then he stopped, jerking back when he noted the tremble in her limbs.
Damn it all to hell.
He’d been trained to be observant—how could he not see for all that Emma was aroused, she was also terrified? The color had left her cheeks, and her shoulders drew in.
Och, lass.
Swallowing hard, Grant pushed off the wall and took a step back. He thought to take her hands but somehow stopped himself.
