Page 51 of A Virgin for the Icy Highlander
It was worth it.
He couldn’t deny that either.
“Oh, but what is the fourth one?” Grace asked, entirely innocent.
He brought her to a halt and stepped behind her. His arm tightened around her waist, and he pulled her against him. He let her feel what she did to him, making him hard with just her words, just a fleeting memory of her bare body molding to his touch and the sounds of bliss that had tumbled from her lips.
“Do ye want a repetition of what just happened, lass?” he whispered close to her ear, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her hair.
Her breath hitched, and he felt the heat rising into her face as he skimmed his lips over the curve of her neck.
“In my defense,” she murmured, “I had no intention of making you feel… that.”
“Desire? Desperation?” he offered in a murmur that had her weak at the knees again.
“Yes, well…It wasn’t one of the emotions I decided on, so I’m not sure it counts.”
“Nay, lass. It counts,” he replied. “But if ye dinnae think it does, then I suppose yewillnaewant a repetition. A pity, that.”
“I didn’t say that at all!” she sputtered, laughing.
He relaxed his grip on her waist. “Aye, well, ye cannae take it back now, and I have another emotion for ye.” He took her hand and kissed it. “Patience. If what just happened happens again, it willnae be because I’ve relented. It’ll be because ye’re burnin’ for me as much as I’ve burned for ye. Then we’ll see if it counts.”
With that, he took a step away, reassured that they were now close enough to the castle that she wouldn’t stumble or trip on the uneven path, and led the way back into the gardens in satisfied silence.
“That’s nae the face of a man who’s about to get married,” Oscar said, settling down in the chair opposite Hunter, sliding a crystal glass of whiskey across the desk to him. “Are ye worried ye’ve chosen the wrong lass? Havenae seen a finer threesome of lasses in many a year. Ye could pick any one of ‘em and be a mighty lucky lad.”
Hunter shook the fatigue from his head, pushing his eyelids up with his thumb and forefinger. “It’s the face of a man who has had a long day.”
A day that’s bound to become even longer…
He sensed he wouldn’t be sleeping much that night, with thoughts of Grace racing through his head. Meanwhile, he hoped that she was already sleeping soundly, lulled into a deep rest by the pleasure he’d given her.
“The wife?” Oscar asked.
Hunter rolled his eyes. “She’s nae me wife yet, and it’s nae because of her.”
Nae directly.
“Then what?” Oscar sipped his drink, nodding for Hunter to do the same.
Whether the whiskey would help or not, Hunter didn’t know, but it was rude to let a friend drink alone.
Reaching over, he clinked his glass against Oscar’s and took a sip… almost laughing at the fact that, not too long ago, he’d been ready to cause his friend all sorts of injury for daring to flirt with Grace.
“The new Laird’s men, the nephew, sought to ambush me in the woods this mornin’,” Hunter replied.
Oscar’s mouth dropped open. “The one who still has his head on his shoulders because ye decided to be benevolent?”
“Aye, him.” Hunter sank back in his chair, so tired that he feared he might melt into it. “I sent a fair message back. Only time will tell if he heeds it.”
Swirling the liquid in his glass, Oscar gave a low whistle. “Ye’d think everyone would be excited about peace at last, eh?”
“What’s peace?” Hunter replied with a dry laugh. “Do ye nae ken that’s a dirty word in our country?”
“Seems that way, sometimes.” Oscar offered a sympathetic smile. “But yer impending marriage is good news, eh? Yer clan must be happy about that.”
Setting his drink down, having no stomach for it, Hunter sighed. “They dinnae ken, nae yet. But aye, I hope they’ll take kindly toit. It won’t be ideal if they dinnae.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “The English thing might take some of ‘em a while to accept, but… Ellie adores her. Ithasto be her.”
