Page 29 of Abducted By the Highlander
He dismounted, and Symon followed suit. “My lady,” he said to Roisin, who gave him such a sweet smile the breath lodged in his chest. He swallowed and tried to ignore how his cock thickened as lust seared his blood, but it appeared the power of speech had deserted him.
“We’ll draw less attention if I walk, too,” she said, anticipating what he’d intended to say to her. With another smile, she prepared to dismount. Before he could think better of it, or remember where they were, he caught her around her waist as she reached the ground in a gesture of misplaced gallantry.
Her gown was soft beneath his fingers, a fragile barrier that did nothing to disguise her enchanting curves or the warmth of her flesh. He felt as much as heard her soft gasp at his presumption. His fingers lingered, savoring the illicit touch. Even though he knew he should step back and release her, the stark truth was he might never have another chance to hold her. If this fleeting moment were to last him a lifetime, he had to make the most of it.
For endless moments, she remained motionless, but then she slowly turned to face him. He still couldn’t pull back. Her eyes didn’t blaze with anger, and she didn’t slap his face for his impertinence. Instead, her lips parted, and her breath shortened. As an enchanting blush heated her cheeks and her eyes, God help him, her eyes were dark with something he dared not name.
Her ethereal scent of crushed rose petals swirled in the air, asinsubstantial as a dream. And yet the fragrance sank into his blood as potent as the strongest French wine, forging a fiery trail through his very veins that caused his cock to throb with frustrated need. He didn’t move, as he wasn’t sure he was capable of such a thing, even if his life depended on it. When her gloved hands lightly clasped his biceps, he could barely keep his groan locked fast in his throat.
From a thousand miles away the snort of horses and the dull cacophony of the market square floated in the outer reaches of his mind like a nebulous fog. But the outside world scarcely mattered. Not when Roisin was in his arms, and she looked at him as though there was no other place she would rather be.
His heart thundered in his chest and echoed through his head like a primal drumbeat. Instinctively, his hands slid from her waist and palmed the small of her back, pressing her closer and she did not resist. With a tantalizing, breathy sigh, she tilted her head back, exposing her throat, and her desire-filled gaze never wavered from his.
Honor demanded he pull back instantly. But God help him, he was no saint, and his honor was no match for the innocent invitation glowing in her mesmeric eyes. He lowered his head, and his lips brushed hers in a featherlight touch, yet one that seared him like a branding iron. Her fingers tightened around his biceps, and he forgot where they were and why this was so wrong and roughly pulled her closer until she melted against him.
Her breath was intoxicatingly sweet and warm with a subtle hint of mint. Never had he tasted something so exotic. He traced the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue, and she quivered in his arms before threading her fingers through his hair.
The last strands of reason unraveled, and he pushed his tongue inside her willing mouth. She tightened her grip on his hair as his hands roamed over her back, beneath her shawl, desperate to feel her naked flesh and make her his.
He cupped the back of her head, and her silken hair curled aroundhis fingers in a gossamer caress. Need pounded through him. The only sound that filled his mind was the erratic thunder of his heart.
Imagining Roisin in his arms was the only thing that had kept him warm during the bitter winter nights in Eire, but nothing could compare to the reality.
She held him as though he was all she had ever wanted, her glove-clad fingers digging into his head, keeping him close, and the frantic beat of her heart against his chest scrambled his reason and inflamed his blood.
Only one frenzied truth resounded through his head.
Mine.
“No one will doubt ye’re a newlywed couple, and that’s a fact.”
Symon’s dry words slammed into him like a steel forged mace, and he broke the kiss, panting into Roisin’s dazed face, as reality returned like a drunken slug.
Christ, what had he been thinking to kiss her so? Except he hadn’t been thinking. He’d lost himself in a maelstrom of lust and desperate possibilities of what could never be. But it was far worse than that. For a few glorious moments, he’d forgotten his pledge to keep her safe at all costs. How could he protect her if he wasn’t even aware of their surroundings? What if his lapse in judgment had caused unwelcome attention to be drawn their way?
God knew, if not for Symon, he would likely still be kissing Roisin. What wouldn’t he do for the chance to keep her by his side? But it was a fool’s dream, and one he couldn’t afford to fall victim to. Not when his negligence could put her in danger.
His only task was to keep her safe until he could ensure her escape to her kin. There was no alternative future where she could stay with him, and he couldn’t forget that again.
With more reluctance than he’d ever admit, he finally released her. But it was another heartbeat before Roisin dropped her hands from him, and he missed her touch far more than any rational man should.
He couldn’t tear his wretched gaze from her, but he had to ensure that Symon, and Roisin herself, was convinced Hugh knew exactly what he was doing. If either of them suspected he’d temporarily lost his mind when he’d taken her in his arms, his credibility with Symon would vanish, and God only knew how Roisin would react.
“Thank ye for playing along, my lady.” He kept his voice low, cursing the huskiness that betrayed the ravening lust that still burned through his blood. “’Tis imperative no one questions our story of being wed.”
She blinked twice and something deep inside cracked at the knowledge she would now despise him more than ever. But it couldn’t be helped. He’d much rather she believed this was a strategic ploy than guess he hadn’t been able to help himself. At Sgur he’d wanted her, more than anything, but he’d kept his distance because she was a gently brought-up lady. No man worth his salt took advantage of an innocent lass.
Yet moments ago, that was exactly what he had done. He’d rip out his tongue before he admitted to such a despicable lack of honor.
“Of course.” She inclined her head and avoided looking at him as she straightened her impeccable gloves. “I understand.”
The fact she was being so agreeable should have been a relief. Yet for a reason he couldn’t fathom, her complaisance rubbed him the wrong way. He fought the destructive urge to pull her back into his arms and assure her that he hadn’t been playing at all.
He expelled a measured breath and faced Symon, who was eyeing him with an unreadable expression on his face. But since he didn’t answer to Symon, he ignored the unspoken questions hanging between them and gave a brusque nod in the direction of the market. “We’ll start there.”
It was possible traders might be at the market looking for horses. If not, one of the town’s inns would likely be interested in purchasing them. There was always a need for travelers to hire fresh horses onextended journeys.
They made their way along the road towards the market, with Roisin between himself and Symon. Rising above the milling crowds he spied the mercat cross, with its intricately carved column, that stood on an eight-stepped octagonal plinth in the heart of the market square. Myriad stalls were set up around the cross and the sound and smell of livestock permeated the warm summer breeze.
