Highlander Enchanted(53)
At once fearful of what he would do when he learnt her final secret and surprised he meant to protect her, she clamped her mouth closed, irritated by his reason.
“But not this night.” He returned to the window. “Niall awaits us.” He held out a hand to her.
It had not dawned on her he meant to escape through the window. “This is your plan?” she asked, approaching.
Ignoring her doubt, he took her hand and pulled her to stand before him. She sucked in a breath. They were close enough for their bodies to brush, and she waited as he deftly tied a harness out of the rope. He draped it around her and adjusted it. She stood perfectly still, attempting to ignore the silky movement of his muscles visible through the open ties of his tunic and his forearms, and willing her body not to react to his heated strength. His hands lingered on her body before he tested the rope.
Rain pelted her back, accompanied by a gust of cold air. Both soothed her fevered body and helped clear her thoughts.
“This is not the wedding night I expected,” she said without thinking.
He chuckled. “My deepest apologies, Lady Cade.” He glanced at her face then back, movement stilling.
Cade lifted her chin. By the time she realized what he intended to do, his soft lips were already pressed to hers. Alarm ran through her at the gentle kiss, a combination of renewed fear of the beast who tore apart men in the Great Hall, and fascination with a sensation she had secretly dreamt of but never felt. How was someone his size, with the wild streak she had witnessed, so gentle?
He lifted his head and cupped her cheek, studying her intently, as if he waited for her to admonish him. Isabel could do no such thing. Her eyes were on his lips, her cheeks warm and her surprise too fresh for her to be guarded.
He gave a crooked smile and lowered his lips to hers once more.
This time, his kiss was more than a light touch. He claimed her mouth in a way befitting his savage image, gentle always yet commanding as well. Too flustered to know what to do, she felt her body shift closer to him of its own accord. His lips were warm and plush, the softest part of the hardened warrior, if she had to guess. With patience and insistence, he guided the kiss. After dwelling on her plump lower lip with nibbles and licks, his tongue flickered out to trace lightly over her mouth before he did something she was not expecting – and slid it between her lips.
Isabel froze, uncertain if such a kiss would be considered a sin. The sensation of the tip of his hot tongue in her mouth was new, and she dwelt on his flavor – roast meat, wine, and man, a combination that warmed her lower belly and sent an unnatural hunger racing through her blood. She began to kiss him, marveling over the intimacy of such an exchange, and also scared by her own body’s reaction to him. She rested against his hard frame, tentatively placing her palms against his chest to feel the warmth of him through the soft material of his worn tunic. One of his arms went around her, and he pulled her into his body.
Cade lifted his head, his grey-blue eyes pinned to hers.
Unable to think, uncertain how to react, Isabel remained against him, gazing up at him with no small amount of astonishment. The first time he held her, soon after they met, she had been awed by his strength, and she found herself sliding once more into admiration and lust. If she let him, he would support her completely, protect her from the nightmare she had created. She had always felt safe around him and in his arms, she was in a world within a world where nothing that could possibly come between them.
Was it a sin to lust after one’s husband?
“That will have to do for tonight,” he said huskily and brushed his thumb across her lips. “I like having ye in my arms, Lady Cade. I look forward t’having ye in my bed.”
She flushed from the top of her head to her toes under the intensity of his look. Already her mind was racing with thoughts she doubted Father Henry would approve of.
Isabel straightened and lowered her gaze, clearing her throat. She was not able to wrangle one thought into sticking in her head, so she remained quiet.
Cade released her and began adjusting the harness once again. She watched him, too unsettled by the kiss to know what she was supposed to do, and saw the faint tremble in his fingers.
He was not the kind of man to be affected by a kiss. From what she had just experienced, he had kissed many women before. She started to look up at him, uncertain what could make the man before her less than steady on his feet, when she realized blood had seeped through his tunic. Angry red blotches were everywhere, and she recalled with some alarm how his torso had been sliced up by the knights.
“You are hurt,” she said, concerned.
“’Tis nothing.”
“Nothing?” she echoed, eyebrows shooting up. “Laird Cade, you are soaked through with blood.”
“Your kiss numbed the pain.”
She flushed, hearing the tease in his voice. “You cannot ride like this.”
“I can and will, Lady Cade,” he replied, smiling beneath her glare. “I am pleased yer concerned for my life.”
“Someone has to rescue me,” she retorted.
Stepping away, he gave an exaggerated bow. “At yer service, my lady.”
She pursed her lips.
He went to the bed, where the weapons were laid out in a row. “I am well, Lady Cade,” he added.
“I can see you are not,” she said, frowning at the amount of blood she witnessed on his. At least one wound in his thigh had soaked the front of the trews covering his left leg.