Page 82 of Captured By the Cruel Highlander
It was alarming how little the idea upset her.
After getting into her nightgown and robe, she sat before the fire as Olivia removed all the pins from her hair and laid everything to the side.
Emily wondered why James Stewart had not attempted anything that day.
Perhaps the news of the wedding had never reached him, and he would find out about it after the fact. She could only imagine his wrath if that were the case.
As she continued to mull over different scenarios, there was a gentle knock at the door, and Olivia went to answer it. When she did not return, Emily turned to find Adam had entered the room.
She stood up hurriedly, brushing her fingers over her nightgown and feeling suddenly shy.
“Evenin’, wife,” Adam said darkly.
Emily felt the same shiver of anticipation rush through her.
Does he expect us to have a real weddin’ night?
The thought was not unappealing.
“Why do ye think he didnae come?” she asked.
Adam shook his head. “I dinnae ken,” he said, his eyes scanning the room as though there might be an assassin waiting behind the curtains to lunge at them. “Perhaps he doesnae care anymore and has left us to our own devices.”
Emily scoffed. “I doubt that. Besides, we have to find Laura—that was the whole reason for the weddin’ in the first place.”
Adam walked further into the room. Emily could feel the warmth of the fire at her back, but Adam burned like a furnace in front of her. Her skin was tingling from his proximity. Images of their night in the hunting lodge flashed through her mind, unbidden.
And this is a far more comfortable room…
The tension seemed to increase with every step he took, and finally, Adam stopped before her, towering above her.
“Doughall has reminded me that I owe ye a great deal for agreein’ to this weddin’ in the first place.”
“Och, I kenned I liked Laird MacGordon.”
She yelped in surprise as Adam’s hands shot out and crushed her against his body, his eyes dark with need.
“YelikeLaird MacGordon, is that right?” he asked, the heat of his body making her shiver.
“Aye, he is far more accommodatin’ than ye.”
Adam growled low in his throat, his fingers tightening around her waist. “Maybe ye should have married him,” he muttered, his lips hovering over her neck but not touching her.
She could feel the slow burn of desire moving up her spine, desperate for him to touch her again. “Do ye think he would have me?”
Adam bit her neck, making her hunch a shoulder in pleasure. “It doesnae matter what he would or wouldnae do—ye are mine now. I own ye, and I shallnae let another man look at ye for as long as ye live.”
He rocked his hips against hers, and she felt his hard length beneath his trews. She trembled as he pushed her back against the wall beside the fireplace and stared down at her wantonly.
“Ye ken, I havenae been able to think of anythin’ but ye in me shirt all this time,” he said darkly, his voice a rumble of desire. “I want to see ye in it again.”
She took a shuddering breath, her stomach quivering with need. “I dinnae have a léine to wear now—ye’ll have to make do with me nightgown.”
With a wicked smile, Adam stepped back from her. She immediately missed the warmth of his body and his woodsy scent.
She watched hungrily as he began to undress, her body rigid against the wall, unable to move or take her eyes off all that golden flesh as it was bared to her.
“Do ye like what ye see, lass? Or are ye still of a mind that I cannae touch ye?”
