Highland Warrior (Campbell Trilogy #1)(7)
She felt the warmth of his breath on her hand right before he pressed his lips against her injured palm. She sucked in a short gasp of air. The shock of his kiss was like a lightning bolt, a brand upon her skin.
His lips moved along her palm to the sensitive skin at her wrist. Her heart pounded faster, realizing what he intended. This would be no simple kiss of the hand. It was a seduction.
And it was working. Something strange was happening to her body. Her legs felt suddenly weak as a heaviness descended over her. His mouth trailed from her wrist to the bend of her arm. The press of his soft lips and warm mouth on her bare skin sent tiny shivers sweeping up her arm. The gentle scratch of his chin on her skin made every nerve ending stand on edge and prickle with awareness.
Her lips parted and her breath hitched. He lifted his eyes to her face, and something changed. In one movement, his hand slid around her waist and he pulled her to him.
His handsome features were drawn in a hard line, but there was no mistaking the heat in his gaze. His eyes fell to her mouth. The pulse at his jaw quickened.
She knew what he was going to do.
She could have stopped him.
But she didn’t want to. She’d never wanted a man to kiss her before . . . until now.
He cupped her chin, stroking her skin with a sweep of his callused fingertips. It seemed impossible that such a physically powerful man could touch so gently. He tilted her mouth to his. She sucked in her breath, anticipation crackling inside her like wildfire on dry leaves. Her ni**les tightened against his chest, pressing against him, straining. Her entire body felt so sensitive, as if with one touch she could dissolve into a pool of liquid heat.
The warmth of his breath brushed her skin, the subtle hint of spice sweet temptation. Finally, when she didn’t think she could wait a moment longer, his lips touched hers.
She felt a sharp tug in her chest, then a shock of surprise and a moment of blissful awakening like the petals of a flower blossoming under the hot sun. His lips were warm and velvety soft. She could taste him. The hint of spice she’d detected earlier—cinnamon—but made deeper and more mysterious by his heat.
His hand moved from her chin to behind her neck, his fingers wrapped around the sensitive skin, sliding through her hair to bring her lips more firmly against his.
His kiss was bold and possessive—like the man—and nothing like the chaste peck she’d imagined.
She sank against him, savoring the sensation of his mouth on hers, wanting to taste him deeper. Excitement pulsed inside her. He moved his mouth against hers, urging her lips apart. His hard muscles bulged under her fingertips with restraint, and she could feel him struggle with something.
With a soft groan he released her, leaving her senses reeling. Leaving her disappointed. But most of all leaving her wanting more.
That realization shattered the haze that had surrounded her since he’d first taken her hand. A flush rose in her cheeks in mortification over the liberties she’d allowed him to take. A stranger. Her father and brothers would kill him if they knew what he’d done.
“You’ve taken your payment,” she said shakily, turning away so he couldn’t see how he’d affected her. “Now if you please, leave me in peace.”
He caught her arm and forced her gaze to his. “I didn’t take anything, my sweet.” She could see the anger in his gaze. “Care for me to remind you?”
Eyes wide, she shook her head. He dropped her arm and moved to his horse. She wondered if he was just going to leave her without another word. The thought was strangely disappointing.
Instead, she was surprised when he retrieved a plaid from the leather bag attached to his saddle. He strode back toward her. “Here,” he said, holding it out to her. “You can wear this.”
The thoughtful gesture couldn’t have surprised her more than if he’d just sprouted wings and a halo instead of the horns and trident she’d attributed to him. She had only just realized herself how hopeless it would have been to try to put her gown on by herself. With his plaid wrapped around her, she could prevent the embarrassment and awkward explanations of returning to the keep in her sark. “Thank you,” she whispered. He nodded his head in acknowledgment and turned to leave, but she stopped him. “Who are you?”
A wry smile hovered around the edges of his mouth. “A simple knight, my lady.” Without another word, he mounted his horse and rode off toward the castle.
She watched him go, wondering if perhaps his armor wasn’t shining in the sunlight after all.
Damn. That hadn’t gone at all as he’d planned.
Jamie Campbell wasn’t often taken by surprise, but the Lamont lass had managed to do just that. She’d been like a warm, sugary confection in his arms. Soft and sweet, dissolving against him in a delicious pool of heat. He drew a deep breath, trying to tamp the fire still simmering in his blood, but the surge of lust that had taken hold of him from that kiss was proving unusually tenacious. It had been a long time since he’d experienced that kind of hunger—hunger that would take a whole lot more than a kiss to satisfy.
It certainly had been an inauspicious introduction to the lass he was supposed to be here to court.
He’d been in the woods searching for something far different when he’d happened upon the tail end of what appeared to be the successful rescue of a kitten. The lad had just scampered off when he caught sight of her—or he should say her nicely rounded backside—just as she was about to fall and break her pretty wee neck.