Page 97 of No One's Bride
As slow as a man in his dotage, he raised his head. His tortured gaze found hers. “Do you know how long that book has sat on my shelf gathering dust?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “Five years. Five bloody years.”
“And ye had nae reason to think it was anything but a silly spell book. Aye, ye might have questioned why Michael would read such a thing, but ye couldnae have known it contained a hidden message.”
If she had receivedUtopiainstead of the grimoire, he wouldn’t have been prompted to examine his brother’s copy.
“Michael reached out to me. He trusted me to act.”
“And ye would have if the message had been clear.”
He released a sad sigh. “But I’ve failed him.”
“How, when ye didnae have the knowledge needed to deal with the problem?” He had failed someone, but it was not Michael. “Be angry at yerself but nae because ye couldnae decipher the symbols.”
He frowned. “What should I be angry about?”
“For hiding a kind, loving man behind a wealth of bravado. For tricking people into thinking ye’re an obstinate oaf.”
The faint flicker of a smile played on his lips. “So, I’m obstinate and gruff. How on earth do you tolerate me?”
“It hasnae been easy.”
“No, those sweet moans you make scream of hardship.”
She fought to suppress a chuckle. “’Tis lucky I’m a Scotswoman. We’re made to withstand intolerable situations.”
“Intolerable?” He stood, towering over her, edging her backwards until she hit the wall. “Are you saying you found my touch unbearable?”
She closed her eyes against the gentle stroke of his fingers across her cheek. “’Tis more than a lady can endure.”
With a desperate urgency, he reached under her skirts and caressed her bare buttock. “I suppose you shiver from sheer revulsion.”
Desire turned her body molten. “Aye.”
He braced his arm against the wall, trapping her against his hard body. “Then this must be loathsome,” he whispered against her ear as his fingers slid over her sex.
On the contrary, it was heavenly. Divine.
His nearness left her body weak.
“I’ve the tolerance of a saint,” she panted.
“Good.” His hot breath tickled her neck, and he nipped her gently. “Then you’re no stranger to punishment.” Those devil fingers moved back and forth in a tantalising rhythm. “You’ll bear it with good grace.”
She gripped his coat as his fingers plunged inside her.
Sweet mercy!
The need to strip off their clothes, to feel his hot skin pressed against hers, was too much to bear.
“Your body betrays you, love.” He was raining kisses along her jaw, sucking her earlobe. “You’re so wet, I might be forced to question your word.”
The man played her like a maestro, curling his fingers inside her channel while stimulating her sex. The pressure inside her built, tightening every muscle.
“Tell me you hate me,” he growled, his hand stilling.
“Oh! Don’t stop. I’m so close, Sebastian.” She was about to shatter into a million pieces. “Touch me.”
“Tell me you despise me.” He pushed deeper, punishing her with every stroke. “Tell me it’s laughable that I can’t get enough of you.”
