Highland Hellion (Highland Weddings #3)(37)

Rolf took a deep breath. “But that was no’ the worst of it all. Me father lived, and yet he was no’ alive in those months after the fever passed. He kept to his rooms, refusing to be seen.” Rolfe shot her a hard look. “Thought his men would no’ respect him with a leg missing.”

“He strikes me as that sort of man.”

“Aye, he was raised to be laird and does nae have anything but his clan.” Rolfe moved back toward her. “That time, I was forced to shoulder the weight of the clan. Made to face the fact that I’d been living the life of a man who was no’ completely a man because I had nae been forced to make choices. I chose me father’s life over me honor, told him I’d leave him to starve abovestairs. Ordered the staff to obey me over him, and the McTavishes followed me. I understood I could no’ play games any longer. Everything I did had consequences, repercussions.”

“You are better for it.” She could not deny that she admired the man he was.

“Well, no’ so perfect.” He was looking at the fire now, but turned to lock gazes with her. “I should have thought harder upon the matter before bringing ye back to McTavish land. I overlooked yer English blood. That was a grave error.”

The moment shattered into a thousand tiny shards that felt like they sliced her on their way to the floor. “I am sorry you find me so. Yet you are the one who kissed me.”

His lips curled into an unpleasant grin. It sent a shiver down her spine because it was pure intention.

“And I pulled away from ye because I was acting like a youth who had no concern for the harm it would do yer reputation. Preaching to ye of honor when I was forgetting that a decent man does nae ruin a woman. If we’d been seen, ye’d no’ only be English but branded a slut as well.”

He’d closed the gap between them again, reaching out to stroke his fingers across the crimson surface of her cheek.

“Ye captivate me, Katherine,” he whispered, looking down into her face. Only a single step remained between them.

“Yes.” The word slipped out as she shivered. Strange how a sensation such as shivering could have more than one purpose in the body. She wasn’t cold, wasn’t horrified; no, that same little jolt of awareness was now a beginning of her response to him.

He slid his hand along her cheek and into her hair. Never once had she realized how sensitive the skin of her face could be. Beneath his touch, it felt as if she’d never been fully awake.

“A lass should no’ be kissed as I kissed you in the stable.” He took that last step while he cradled the nape of her neck in his hand. “No’ the first time.”

He leaned down, easing her against him when she shifted, full of uncertainty. It wasn’t a hard hold, but his body was so solid that she sighed as he moved so she was in contact with him from knee to head. She felt his breath teasing the delicate surface of her lips before he pressed his against them. The moment while she waited for the contact seemed impossibly long, while anticipation twisted her insides.

Then he was kissing her, controlling her head with his hand as he pressed his opposite one against her lower back to keep her in his embrace. Sensation went swirling through her, touching off a hundred different points of awareness inside her. Her heart was thumping in hard beats that drove her blood faster through her body. Her breathing increased, and she caught his scent. Before, it had merely been a small part of him, but now she felt intoxicated by the combination of his kiss and scent. Her thoughts were falling away, leaving something else exposed, some part of herself that had been dormant in her heart.

“That’s the way a first kiss should be.”

Her eyelids felt heavy, but she lifted them and found him watching her. There was a flicker in his eyes that unleashed a ripple of need inside her. She’d laid her hands on his chest, and it was suddenly not enough. She curled her fingers into his doublet, trying to pull him closer.

His expression tightened, the look in his eyes brightening. He leaned down and kissed her again, but this time it was harder, more demanding, as he abandoned his need to handle her like a fragile bird.

It suited her perfectly.

She rose onto her toes, kissing him with every bit of desire flowing through her. He rocked back, absorbing her motion before his fingers spread wide and he clasped a handful of her hair to hold her in place.

A half sound of delight escaped her lips before he was taking them in a searing kiss. There was no gentle exploration. He wanted a taste of her and intended to take it.

But she wanted one of him as well. She opened her mouth as he teased her lower lip with the tip of his tongue, unleashing a new sensation that gripped her with a need that went rushing down her body to clench her belly. A throbbing began at the top of her sex, an awareness of that part of her she’d never encountered before.

And she didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to contemplate what was right or wrong. All she knew for certain was that she hated their clothing. She pulled at his doublet, pushing the buttons through the holes as she tried to make contact with his skin.

“I’ll not ruin ye,” he rasped, pulling her back and keeping her away from him as she let out a frustrated sound.

“No one believes I am not soiled.”

His lips twitched. “That does no’ mean it is acceptable for me to take ye, lass. Surely ye see that?”

Standing still seemed impossible. She wrenched herself from his embrace, her body tight with frustration. “Aye. And yet, I wonder if it is foolish to save myself for the fate Morton would plan for me. Any man who will agree with his plans is only concerned with power and gain. It seems such a poor pairing, maintaining my virtue so it might be bartered to a man who merely wishes to collect Morton’s approval.” She ended up facing the fire. “As you noted, maturity holds more moments of duty than anything else.”