Highland Scoundrel (Campbell Trilogy #3)(106)

“I do,” she said without hesitation. It took a minute to realize what he'd said—he loved her—and then what she'd said. She loved him. She couldn't help it. She'd tried to bury it, to push it away, but it didn't work. Her heart had belonged to him from almost the first moment she'd seen him. But her girlish love had only grown stronger as she'd come to know the man he'd become. “I love you, Duncan, but I could never leave my children—”

She stopped, realizing what she'd said.

He smiled and dropped a soft kiss on her mouth. “See? You are nothing like your mother.”

The realization took her aback. He was right. She might be impulsive, but unlike her mother it wasn't without bounds. Her mother had run off without care to those she left behind. She'd been fun and carefree, but also, Jeannie had to admit, selfish and irresponsible. Jeannie loved Duncan with all her heart, but not even for him would she ever abandon her children.

She had another realization. Her mother had fallen in love at the drop of a pin, but Jeannie had only loved once. She might have some of the impetuousness of her mother, but she also had duty and loyalty that her mother did not.

She eyed him warily. Perhaps he'd only been trying to teach her a lesson. “Did you mean what you said?”

He gave her a jaunty grin, the dimple in his left cheek making her heart squeeze. “About leaving or about loving you?”

“Both,” she whispered, her heart pounding. He was horrible to tease her like this.

“Not about leaving, I intend to stay and fight the charges against me. But about loving you …?” He ran the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, his voice turning husky. “Aye, Jeannie, I love you. From the moment I first saw you, there has never been another woman for me.”

The hot wave of emotion rose up in her throat. She'd forgotten what it felt like to be truly happy. “It's the same for me. I've never stopped loving you. I thought my heart had broken when you left, but my love for you never died.”

The fierce look in his eye sent shivers of anticipation shooting through her body. “You don't need to say that. I have you now, that's all that matters.”

He thought she'd loved Francis. She opened her mouth to correct him, but he covered it with his in a kiss that left no room for argument so thoroughly did it consume her.

His tongue wrapped around hers in an insistent dance. She knew what he needed because she needed it, too. To give proof to their words in the most basic of ways.

Within minutes he'd divested them both of their clothes and their bodies came together in seamless abandon. His hands stroked her skin, smoothing over her back and cupping her bottom to lift her against him. His erection rose hot and hard between them.

Gently he lowered her to the bed, his hard warrior's body looming over her. She reached up to touch him, to run her hands over the thick slabs of muscle and pull him down on her. She loved his solidness, his strength.

She throbbed between her legs, growing damp with her need for him. His eyes burned into her intently, holding her gaze the entire time. Spreading her legs, he looped his hands under her knees and positioned himself at her entry, nudging forward.

Duncan had never felt like this, his heart seemed too big for his chest. I love you. Hearing those words was far more powerful the second time around, for now he knew how precious they were. He knew disappointment, heartbreak, and the emptiness of what it was like to live without.

But the mistakes—the distrust—of the past were behind them. He felt as if he'd been given a second chance at life. Not even the threat hanging over him would interfere with this night. Tonight, nothing would come between them.

He wanted her aware of every moment of their joining. He didn't touch her, didn't kiss her, didn't make her half-crazed with passion. Instead, he held her gaze, looking deep into her eyes and entered her. Inch by inch. Slow and purposeful. All their senses honed on one place.

She gasped as he filled her, her soft pink lips parting with the erotic hitch of breath. Her round ivory br**sts with the tiny pink ni**les lifted as her back arched to accommodate him. To take him deeper.

It felt incredible. Her warm, wet body closed around him like a tight velvet glove. He stopped about halfway in, forcing himself to savor every second of sensation. But it was the tightness in his chest that truly moved him—the sheer intensity of emotion. How every time he looked at her, his heart seemed to expand. He never thought this would be his again. Fortune, it seemed, had smiled on him at last. A fierce wave of emotion rose up and took hold. This time he would never let her go.

He continued his slow possession, sinking into her until at last they were one. She was his: his heart, his soul.

“I love you, Jeannie. More than I ever thought possible.”

She smiled and reached up to cradle his cheek in her tiny palm. “And I love you.”

He held her there—at the deepest part—and then looking into her eyes took her a little farther. Her eyes widened and the little moan of pleasure nearly undid him.

He moved in and out with long, delicious strokes. Loving how her body milked him, how it fought to hold on to him.

She wrapped her legs around his bu**ocks, drawing him even closer. He lowered his chest to hers, his skin searing at the contact, and thrust. Harder now. Faster. Demanding.

Her moans drove him on. He couldn't wait for her to come.