Page 13 of Highlanders for the Holidays
“Maybe we should go and try it.”
She stiffened in his arms. “Now?” She cleared her throat. “Nae, ‘tis late. And ‘tis too far away. There may be wolves about.”
No?l knew a feeble excuse when he heard it. He might have fallen in love with his bride in an instant. But that didn’t mean she shared his sentiments. He’d just have to be patient and win her affections in time.
“Perhaps on the morrow?” he asked.
“Perhaps.”
* * *
Ysenda knewshe should be cold. The air was frosty. The clouds were thick. There was a dusting of snow on all the tree branches. But she felt pleasantly cozy, tucked into the knight’s arms, enveloped in his cloak, snug against his firm chest.
She could feel the flush in her cheeks. Whether it was from the Bordeaux or the fact that a handsome man was carrying her across the courtyard, she wasn’t sure.
But when she suddenly succumbed to the irrational desire to steal a kiss, she blamed the wine.
It happened in an instant. In one moment, they were speaking reasonably, discussing the history and resources of the land. In the next, she pulled herself up by the edges of his cloak and pressed her lips to his.
Despite surprising him, he responded with levelheaded calm. Then, as if she’d done nothing untoward, he kissed her back.
After that, Ysenda—knowing full well she had no right to do it, no claim on him whatsoever—took his head between her hands and deepened the kiss.
The liquid warmth of their tangled tongues seemed to melt the icy night. Their fervent breaths mingled, making white mist against the black.
Suddenly, her hands were acting of their own will. Her fingers spanned his wide shoulders. They caressed the cords of his neck. They wove through the thick locks of his hair.
He pulled her closer. The pads of his fingers pressed into her back. His mouth ground against hers, tasting of wine and lust. And she liked the flavor.
“Ah,mon dieu, cherie,” he muttered between kisses.
As they continued feasting on each other, he tilted her body, letting her slip down to stand atop his boots. He took her head tenderly in his hands. He tipped up her chin, brushing his thumbs along the corners of her mouth. Then he drew her lower lip between his own, sucking gently.
Through a haze of desire, she felt his fingers drift down her throat and across her bosom. While he clasped the back of her head in one hand, the other strayed along the neck of her gown. When he delved beneath the linen, she was too delirious with desire to refuse him. And when his hand closed over her bare breast, she sucked in an awe-filled breath at the divine sensation.
She should have pushed him away. She should have clouted him. If she’d been in control of her senses, she would have shoved him into a snow bank to cool his loins.
But she wasn’t.
All she could do was float on a heavenly vessel of lust, neither knowing nor caring where she was bound.
“Ah,mon amour,” he murmured against her mouth. “Let’s go inside.”
She nodded. Anything that whisked her away from this mad and perilous place would be a wise choice. Once they were inside, surely reason would prevail.
He gave her breast one last fond caress. Then he picked her up and carried her swiftly toward the keep.
Luckily, she could blame her ruddy lips and cheeks on the cold weather, though no one paid the couple much heed as they came in. Everyone was too busy passing around the Bordeaux.
Ysenda’s breast still tingled where No?l had touched her. But her gown was safely in place. She’d checked it three times to be sure.
Sir No?l excused himself for a moment to confer with her father. The laird pointed up the stairs toward Cathalin’s room, and No?l nodded.
Ysenda swallowed hard. This was not going to be easy.
Her brother glowered at her, as if he could read her mind.
She glowered back.
