Page 30 of The Highlander's Auctioned Wife
His face hadn’t changed, nor had the grumbling tone of his voice, yet her throat wanted to release a chuckle. Her instinctsfeltlike he had made a joke, but the uncertainty left her confused.
“Inthisweather?” The driver sounded equally bewildered.
Anna rolled her eyes. “It’s just a bit of rain, for goodness’ sake. If I wanted to avoid bad weather for the rest of me life, I’d never leave me chambers. This isScotland, nae… nae… Egypt!”
“Of course, M’Lady,” the driver responded, a note of laughter in his voice. Being a MacTorrach man, he undoubtedly knew that once Anna had a notion, she wouldn’t relinquish it easily.
Shuffling backward, Gordon gestured to the empty space ahead of him in the saddle. “Come on, then.”
Anna frowned. She’d expected him to help her out of the carriage, like a gentleman should, and to assist her in getting up onto the enormous horse, but it seemed she needed to lower her expectations. Gordon wasn’t like other men; she’d known that the moment she met him, and, in many ways, that was why she’d ‘chosen’ him.
I cannae pretend to be surprised now.
After all, no gentleman would have done what he did in the woods. No gentleman would have kissed her with such… unbridled passion or touched her the way he had touched her or inspired such a thrill in her. Not before marriage, anyway.
Then again, hehadkept his back turned while she bathed away the filth of the bog. So, perhaps he had a few manners, though, to her chagrin, she’d been somewhat disappointed that he hadn’t tried to steal a peek.
“Are ye ridin’ or nae?” he asked flatly. “Ye’re delayin’ us.”
Muttering under her breath, considering staying in the carriage after all, Anna opened the carriage door. She grimaced as she stepped down, straight into an icy puddle that soaked right through her shoes and stockings, but refused to retreat. Approaching the horse, she reached up to grab the pommel, unsure of how she was meant to pull herself up when Gordon had his foot in the stirrup.
He leaned out of the saddle, both of his hands sliding under her arms. With one swift, effortless pull, he hoisted her up and set her down in front of him, practically in his lap.
She sat sideways, a flutter of anxiety rising through her; she didn’t feel at all steady, as if she might topple backward or forward at any unexpected movement from Manadh.
“Ye might want to sit astride,” Gordon said.
She swallowed thickly. “I was about to, if ye’d give me a second.”
Twisting around, she managed to maneuver her other leg up and over the curved pommel, until she was sitting more securely. The only trouble was, the pommel stopped her from sitting too far forward, and Gordon couldn’t move any further backward to give her a polite amount of space.
Oh…
She concentrated on the inquisitive flick of Manadh’s ears, so as not to dwell too intently on the pressure of Gordon’s bulk behind her, or the brush of his thighs against the backs of hers, or the fact that she was very much positioned against his loins.
Her breath caught as his arms curved around her, one strong hand interwoven with the reins. He rested that hand on the pommel, his other arm encircling Anna’s waist, and with a click of his tongue, they were off.
“M’Laird, I?—”
Any complaint she might have had about him holding her so intimately vanished on her tongue as Manadh moved, the rolling sway of the stallion’s body like being rocked on tempestuous seas; if it weren’t for Gordon’s grip, she was certain she would have fallen off.
“What?” he prompted, when she didn’t finish the sentence.
She took a breath. “Nothin’, M’Laird.”
“Good.” He curved his shoulders a little more and bent his head over hers, as if to block the rain from falling on her. “And stop callin’ me that.”
“Callin’ ye what?”
His grip tightened around her waist. “M’Laird. Dinnae call me that anymore.”
“Why, do ye want a pet name?” she teased to mask her uneven breaths, grateful that the cold rain would see to the heat flooding her cheeks.
With every step the stallion made, she felt Gordon push against her, not on purpose but by circumstance. He couldn’t move away, any more than she could. And the feeling was… not at all what she’d anticipated in her rush to be out of the stuffy carriage.
I’ll be as hot as a poker by the time we get to Castle Lyall.Despite the weather, she wished she had something to fan herself with.
“Me name will do,” Gordon said in a throaty voice that sent a fresh surge of heat through her.
