Page 10 of Pretty in Plaid
“Get dressed,” he ordered.
“How do ye know I’m no’?”
“I have excellent hearing, lass. And I know each piece ye’ve taken off, and I know ye’re one step away from being naked.”
“Ye would ravish me?” Oh, why did she have to sound so breathless? And why did she want suddenly so desperately for him to do that very thing?
“If I didna know better, I’d think ye brought me to this vault to seduce me.”
She laughed and shucked her drawers, then reached for the breeches she’d discarded when discovering the problem with all the extra fabric. She buttoned up the flaps.
“If ye consider being chased by rabid dragoons down into the bowels of the house a seduction…” she teased. Kenna pulled on the shirt, wishing she still had the barrier of her stays for her breasts, which tingled from his proximity.
“I’m a retriever, lass, remember? Danger excites me.”
Even covered, she felt fully exposed.
Her heart thumped, and her mouth went dry. But she wasn’t afraid. For some reason, Sorley had the power to make her feel the exact opposite. And in fact, she was quite drawn to him, though she was loath to admit it. She patted around on the shelf, grateful when her hands fell across the frockcoats. She tossed one to him, and then tugged hers in place.
“Some may call ye mad, then,” she replied breathlessly, sitting down on a barrel to relace her boots, making sure they were tight for their inevitable run.
Kenna felt, rather than heard him draw closer, and she stilled, her boots on the dirt-packed floor, his presence looming in front of her like a mouthwatering dessert. All she had to do was reach forward and take a taste.
He leaned down, hands bracing on the edges of the barrel at her hips, his breath fanning her face.
“What are ye doing?” she asked in a barely audible whisper.
The bristles of a day’s growth of beard tickled her cheek as he brought his mouth close to her ear. “Something I should no’.”
And then, his lips brushed hers.
4
Sorley couldn’t believe what he was doing. And yet, now that his lips were grazing over Kenna’s, he didn’t want to stop.
She breathed in sharply, stilled, and he started to pull away, worried he’d scared her or maybe he’d taken the subtle hints the wrong way. But dear God…
“I’m sorry,” he said.
But she gripped the front of his shirt, keeping him from backing away fully.
“Dinna be sorry, sir,” she whispered against his lips. “For this is the best kiss I’ve yet to receive.”
The best kiss she’d yet to receive? That was a high compliment, but it also had him wondering... “Just how many lads have ye kissed?”
“Two or three, but none compare to ye.”
Sorley grinned and swooped back in, claiming her mouth once more. He slipped his tongue between her parted lips, swallowing her gasp and marveling that his sweet lass was allowing him to kiss her. She sighed against his mouth, draping her arms around his neck, the tips of her fingers tracing the column of the top of his spine. Saints but he wanted to remove his hands from the barrel and wrap her up in his embrace, tuck her against him. Feel all those soft curves he’d been eyeing. Bury his face in her neck, her hair, her breasts…
Ballocks.
He could keep on kissing her the rest of the night.
If not for the situation they found themselves in currently, he might have asked permission to court her. Hell, when they returned to the Isle of Skye and the Chief of MacLeod’s stronghold, hewouldask. Because they’d gone from sparring on the stairs, to dueling with their mouths in the matter of an hour, and he’d be damned if he were going to go back to the way his life was before he’d met her. Aye, he most definitely would ask.
If they made it…
Their ability to get out of this mess had taken a vastly different turn than he’d expected.
