Page 72 of Bride of Ice
What he didn’t know was, while she’d never been kissed, it wasn’t for lack of opportunity. In the past few years, several lads—most on a dare from their fellows—had tried to kiss Hallie. Most of them had been discouraged by an icy glare. A few had earned scars from the attempt.
For Hallie, hostility was the swiftest natural defense against aggression.
But that was when she wanted toeliminatethe aggressor. In this instance, when she needed something in return, different tactics were required. She had to keep Colban off-balance to claim with stealth what she couldn’t seize by force.
She lowered her gaze to his mouth. Her heart fluttered at the prospect of what she was about to do. But surely it was no different than the way her pulse raced when she entered the free-for-all fighting in a tournament melee. In the melee, she’d found it was best not to dally, but to go on the offense and charge in with confidence.
The corner of Colban’s lip drifted up as he taunted her. “Ye’ve ne’er felt the sweet surrender of a man’s—”
She pitched forward and, before caution could make a coward of her, seized the back of his head and shut him up with a hard kiss.
At least that was her intent.
What actually happened was her lips contacted his. He twitched in surprise. Their teeth clacked together. And she recoiled.
It was as jarring as two swords clanging.
In a clash of blades, she would have retreated and tried again.
But when she tried to pull back, he caught her jaw. Sweeping his hand over her cheek, he slipped his fingers into her hair to hold her steady.
“Like this,” he murmured against her mouth.
His lips were incredibly soft upon hers. For a rough-hewn Highlander, his touch was unexpectedly gentle. His breath, warm and scented of apples, stirred her senses.
Though he’d fallen neatly into her trap, she suddenly felt more like prey than predator. His kiss was doing strange things to her. Making her head sing. Weakening her knees. Sending white-hot current through her veins. Burning like banked coal between her legs.
Waves of pleasure threatened to rock her off her feet. Instant by instant, her control slipped away. She had the vague, distant thought that she must seize the advantage. Take the upper hand. Leavehimincapacitated by longing.
Then he clasped her head in both hands, tilted her jaw, and teased her mouth open with his own. His tongue flicked out, making her gasp and searing her senses like lightning.
At that moment, she knew she’d met her match.
Drawn into an abyss of desire, she let the dagger slip from her fingers. As it clattered on the floor, she moaned against his mouth. Collapsed into his arms. And fell into the kiss.
Time dissolved as she gave in to lust and curiosity. She answered his mouth’s sweet assault with kisses of her own. Her fingers tangled in his hair, bunched his leine, grazed his throat, swept over the vast expanse of his chest with feverish need.
When he wrapped his arm around her back to pull her closer, she didn’t even think to resist. Emboldened by longing, she surged forward, grasping his arse and hauling him up against her.
The bulge pressing against her abdomen inflamed her desire. His groan of pleasure took her breath away.
Colban was in over his head. He knew that now.
He had intended the kiss to be a light distraction. After all, a lass’s first kiss was usually an awkward peck full of flustered blushing.
He meant to set her off-balance, at which point she’d rush from the room and forget all about the notebook.
Never had he imagined Hallie would kiss him back. Never had he dreamed she’d return his advances with such passion and heat.
Her lips were insistent and demanding. Her ragged breath seared his cheek. Wherever her hands touched him, they sparked fire.
Now he was engulfed in a dizzying blaze of desire. His head spun as if he’d taken a blow to the helm. His hands grasped in desperation at her tresses, as if they could keep him from being consumed by the flames. His mouth fed on her with greedy abandon. Within his trews, he was throbbing with need.
All thought, all reason, all purpose fled his mind. He wanted only this. Only her.
He longed to roar out his claim upon her, toss her on the bed, and sink his aching lance into her welcome warmth.
She wanted it too. He could tell from the wild smoldering in her eyes. The breathless begging of her gasps. The mad clawing of her fingers. The pressure of her hungering body against him.
