Page 67 of The Highlander Who Loved Me
The hem of her skirt skimmed her calf as the fabric fell back in place. Very gently, he released her and edged away, putting a scant few inches between their bodies.
“Ye could drive a man to madness.” Sensual hunger darkened his eyes. For a breath, it seemed he could see into her soul. “But I’ll carry this no further.”
“And if Iwish for more?”
He brushed the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, still tender from his kiss. “Ye’ve nothing to regret, Johanna. And neither do I. ’Tis my intention to keep it that way.”
“I have no call for regrets.”
The corners of his full, delicious mouth lifted. “I’m no fool. If ye lay with me, it willnae change a damn thing. That book cannae leave Dunnhaven. No matter how tempting yer sweet body might be.” He spoke in a quiet, even tone, each syllable measured and controlled. Only the tension in his jaw betrayed the cost of his restraint.
His words struck like a blow, an unexpected slap against her cheek. The gall of the man. He’d kissed her senseless, brought her to a crescendo of pleasure. And now, he stood there, looking down at her with an arrogance she longed to strip away and trample with her heels.
Planting her hands on her hips, she pulled back her shoulders. Arching her back to hike her chin to maximum effect, she met his eyes. “You believe I intended to seduce you? To bend you to my will, no less? How very absurd.”
“Ah, lass. I don’t believe it. I know it.” His fingertips glided over her cheek, threaded through the uncooperative tresses that threatened to tumble over her shoulders. “Ye consider yerself a woman of the world. Ye’re not quite an innocent. But ye’re not used to playing these games.” Again, his thumb swept over the fullness of her lower lip. “I am, love.”
…
Connor dropped his hands to his sides and coiled his fingers into loose fists, struggling to keep from reaching out to her again. If Johanna had any idea how damn much he wanted to pull her to him, tug up her skirts, and thrust himself into her sweet body, she’d most likely run from him. Despite the passion in her kiss and the seeking exploration of her touch, the lass wasn’t ready for such complete possession. No, Johanna deserved a gentle seduction, a time when she would learn his body and all the pleasures a man could bring a woman.
He took in the set of her finely carved jaw, the press of her lips into an unyielding seam. Fury blended with a hint of pain in Johanna’s wide blue eyes. He hadn’t expected his words to wound her. To the contrary, he’d done them both a favor by ending this seductive battle of wills before she had true cause for regret. If he kissed her again—bloody Christ, if he touched her—he might not be able to walk away. He damn well wasn’t about to take her like some common tavern wench. They were in a stable, for God’s sake.
And she was an innocent, for all of her attempts to appear a woman of experience. Whether she still possessed her maidenhead was a question he’d not yet answered, but he’d no doubt she’d never lain with a man who fully awakened her body. She’d never experienced a man who had savored the taste and feel and smell of her, a man who hungered for her as the finest of delicacies. Not before he’d taken her into his arms.
He’d shown her pleasure. If only he had her to himself. In his bed. For a day. A night. Wicked hours with Johanna naked between his sheets. His and his alone.
What he wouldn’t give to strip her bare and run his hands over every inch of that satin flesh. The softest hint of roses tinged her natural scent, her feminine essence melding with the wafting aroma of flowers on a warm, summer night. Her breasts were perfect. Rounded and firm and just the right size to fill his hands with their softness. The image set his cock to aching, damn his traitorous thoughts.
Someday, he’d see to it that they finished what they’d started.
But this was not the time.
Now, he could not afford any distractions. Johanna had come to him in the stables with one purpose in mind, obtaining the ransom to rescue her niece. If only it were that simple, he’d hand the damned book and map over to her, hitch up a carriage, and deliver her to Cranston.
He knew better than to trust the man. Once Cranston had the treasure, he’d have no use for the child. Later, after the bastard took his fill of Johanna, he’d silence her. Death was uncomplicated for the likes of the human jackal.
Of course, the jackal had competition. The younger Munro worked for another collector. If Cranston knew of his rival, it would only serve to make him more impatient. More reckless. More dangerous.
Still, the sadness in Johanna’s eyes was a punch to the gut, a blow Connor hadn’t seen coming. God only knew he hadn’t meant to cause her pain. She was a lady. Of that, he had no doubt. If she harbored any thought of manipulating him, it didn’t have a damn thing to do with her own gain. The lass was set on rescuing her niece. She’d faced a cur in a fine suit and massive brutes, all to save the bairn. She was not about to shy away from using her beauty to manipulate a man to her advantage.
She didn’t trust him. Her body may have let down its defenses, but that clever mind of hers knew better. Not that Connor could blame her. Given the circumstance, she’d be a fool to trust anyone.
Even him.
He caught Johanna’s hands in his. So small, those hands. Yet not fragile. Not weak. She had a will of iron. This lass would stand her ground, and she’d fight like a she-wolf to protect what she loved. Something about the conviction in her eyes made her even lovelier.
She was a woman who’d make a man stronger. A woman he’d fight for. And die for, if that was his fate.
“Come along, Johanna.” He kept his words simple, his tone even. It wouldn’t do to give her any inkling of the ache in his groin. And in his heart.
Chapter Twenty-Four
At Connor’s side, Johanna walked the path between the stables and the main house. Even in the cool breeze, warmth inflamed her skin and her lips still tingled from his kiss. She focused her gaze on the beauty of the mountains surrounding Dunnhaven, but even that striking sight could not divert her thoughts from the certainty that her cheeks had gone tell-tale scarlet. Surely anyone they happened upon would recognize the flush of passion and deduce the intimate nature of their encounter.
For his part, Connor held himself a bit too casually, as if utterly unaffected by their rendezvous. Somehow, deep inside, Johanna knew better. He’d wanted her, and he still did. No amount of nonchalance could disguise the simmering heat in his eyes whenever he cast a glance her way.
As they neared the house, the pounding of hooves in the distance drifted to her ears. Dunnhaven had a visitor, and from the look on Connor’s face, not an expected one. He tilted his head in the direction of the sound, toward the massive iron gate at the entrance to the estate. An immense black horse made short work of the ground separating the beast and rider from the main house with long, sure strides. Recognition washed over Connor’s face.
