Page 32 of Beguiled By the Highlander
His smile was grim. If only it could be that simple. “I do. And so will Lady Helga.”
“Promise ye’ll return to me, Njord.” There was a note of desperation in her voice, that tore through him like a barbed lance. “No matter what ye discover, whoever ye turn out to be, yemust return to Eigg and let me know. Don’t leave me wondering for the rest of my life.”
“I wouldn’t do that to ye.” His voice was rough, and guilt ate through him. Because if he discovered he wasn’t fit to wipe her boots, he’d no intention of seeing her again. Or of facing Lady Helga, with the knowledge he had nothing to offer her granddaughter. Only humiliation waited for him on that path.
But she clung to him, her bottom lip trembling. How could he deny her anything when she gazed at him with such faith? Before he could stop himself, he raked his fingers through her hair and cradled her head. “I promise I’ll return.”
She gave a ragged sigh and gave him a tremulous smile. “Thank ye. I could not bear it if ye deserted me.”
He pressed his forehead against hers and tried to ignore the hammer of his heart that filled his head and made coherent thought so hard. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. And how would returning, only to tell her they had no chance of a future together, do anything but hurt them both?
But now he’d promised her. Even if it killed him inside, he’d keep that promise.
She wound her arms around him, and he tugged her close. Too close. Unlike every other time when they’d been together, they weren’t wearing heavy plaids, and he screwed his eyes shut and savored the sensation of her body melting against his.
She sighed and her shawl slipped from her shoulders. Roughly, he shoved it to the floor. She wore only a shift, and there was no way on God’s earth that she couldn’t feel his erection burning against her through his shirt, but he couldn’t pull back. It was a sweet torture, but he’d rather this, than nothing.
Her hands slid over his back, coming to rest just above his backside, and she tipped her head back, catching his gaze. Hereyes were dark with passion, her uneven breath warmed his jaw, and then she went onto her toes and kissed him.
*
Isolde’s eyes closedin bliss as Njord responded, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss that vibrated to the core of her being. It was reckless, and she should leave before she entirely lost her senses, but surely one more kiss would not hurt.
His fingers tangled in her hair, a savage gesture, and sparks of desire prickled along her skin as he freed her hair from its bindings. Her breath caught in her throat as he ravished her mouth, his tongue teasing and exploring as though he had never tasted her before.
It was heady and magical, and her fingers grasped his shirt, tugging at the material until she felt bare flesh. A strangled groan escaped, but she could scarcely tell if it was her or Njord. Her heart thundered and his hard length dug into her stomach, hot and thick, and she had the dizzy sensation that if his strong arms were not about her, she’d sink to the floor in a boneless heap.
She traced her fingertips over his naked buttocks and his hips flexed, pushing his magnificent erection even more securely against her. A shudder raced through her as she palmed his tight arse, and in response, he tore his mouth from her and panted in her face.
For the last week, his face had haunted her dreams, and she could recall every aspect of his features when they were apart. But now, as he gazed at her with raw lust glowing in his eyes, a fierce, predatory determination emanated from him, and she scarcely recognized him at all.
It was utterly thrilling.
“Ye should go, Isolde.” His voice rasped in the heated space between them, but he made no move to release her. “If ye stay, I cannot trust myself...”
He didn’t finish his thought, but it didn’t matter. “I trust ye,” she whispered. And she wasn’t certain whether she meant she trusted him not to compromise her, or she trusted him to compromise her in the most breathtaking way imaginable. And then, because his honor was so much a part of who he was, and he would never take her if he suspected she harbored even a slender doubt, she rose onto her toes and murmured against his lips. “There is no one else I’ll ever want to give myself to but ye, Njord.”
A shudder rippled through him, and although surely it was not possible, his manhood pressed harder than ever against her.
“I cannot take yer maidenhead. Not like this.” His hoarse words, an attempt to dissuade her, failed when his hands roamed down her back and cradled her bottom.
She gasped, her fingers involuntarily digging into his flesh, and his grin verged on madness as he stroked her in an intimate caress. Somehow, she found her voice.
“Ye cannot take it if I give it freely.”
He gave a rough laugh before he grasped her shift and inched the material up her legs. How could the delicate slide of her hem against her skin feel so decadent?
“I’ve dreamed of this.” He kissed her, a deep, exploring kiss, that sent quivers of need cascading through her vitals. His knuckles skimmed her back, and belatedly she realized what he was doing.
Her gaze caught his and slowly she released him. With infinite care, he tugged her shift over her head before dropping it to the floor.
And she was naked before him.
Her mouth dried as his hungry gaze raked over her. The fire had burned low in the hearth, and although the lamp and candle threw out a golden glow, most of the solar was in darkness, but there was surely enough light for him to see every curve of her body.
Heat washed through her, but she had scarcely moved to cover herself when he threaded his fingers through hers, preventing any show of belated modesty.
“My dreams were sadly lacking.” Had she imagined that note of awe in his voice? Her tense muscles relaxed, and she offered him a small smile. But it seemed he hadn’t finished. “Ye’re beautiful, Isolde. I can scarcely believe my good fortune in having found ye.”
