Never Seduce a Scot (The Montgomerys and Armstrongs #1)(54)

From what she could glean, the first two took care of the clan’s sheep while the other was in charge of the stables.

In her own home, she hadn’t paid much heed to the day-to-day running of the keep. She wasn’t completely ignorant of the workings in theory, but she lacked the practical knowledge. In keeping with her ruse, she hadn’t been able to show any interest in the inner workings of her clan.

But now she considered that her life here would not only be dreadfully boring, but also extremely unproductive were she not to do anything more than trail around all day with Rorie or take an occasional swim in the river. It was a matter she’d have to take up with Graeme.

She needed a purpose. If she was going to gain her new clan’s acceptance, then it stood to reason she’d need to do something to earn it.

Her father had always said that respect was earned, not given. The Montgomerys weren’t giving her anything. But there was nothing to say she could not secure it for herself.

Aye, she’d discuss it with Graeme. She would even approach Nora herself. She hadn’t been one to malign Eveline, at least not to her face. She seemed kindly enough, even if she was a little wary around Eveline.

She blinked when she became aware of everyone standing around her. Graeme’s brothers had risen and loomed over the table, making her feel very small and insignificant in comparison.

Graeme was every bit as large and fearsome as his brothers, but he didn’t frighten or intimidate her. Bowen and Teague had been nice enough and even respectful, but she still wasn’t sure where she stood with them.

After glancing warily in their direction, she also rose and moved instinctively toward Graeme. He tucked her in close to his side, putting his arm around her side. His hand rested possessively on her hip and she was shocked that he was holding her so in front of the entire clan.

As she glanced up, she saw him talking to his brothers.

“… bid you a good night. Eveline and I are retiring.”

She stopped breathing a moment as she processed what she’d seen on his lips. Her heart fluttered and dropped into her stomach as he urged her forward, still holding her against his side.

She offered Rorie a smile and only briefly made eye contact with Bowen and Teague. She was too embarrassed to look any longer because she had a firm idea that they knew why Graeme was taking her above stairs.

There was the fact that she didn’t know for sure herself, however, he’d made himself perfectly clear earlier. He’d left her with no doubt as to what his intentions were, and he didn’t seem a patient sort of man.

He would take her to bed tonight and he’d make her his. Their marriage would be consummated, effectively sealing their union.

The kissing part she was more than ready for. The rest was what she wasn’t overly certain of.

As soon as they left the hall, Graeme swept her into his arms and carried her up the stairs. Surprised by the sudden action, she looped her arms around his neck and hung on. His expression was intense. Focused.

He shouldered his way into the chamber and then walked to the bed and gently laid her down in the middle. Her dress spread out, the green and white vivid against the furs draped over the mattress.

He stood over her, merely staring down at her, his gaze taking in every inch of her.

She cocked her head to the side. “Why do you stare at me so?”

“Because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of looking upon.”

“Oh.”

She was breathless. “Oh” was all she could muster. It didn’t make for scintillating conversation, but what could she possibly say in response to words such as those?

“I do not even know what to do first, so tempted I am by you.”

“Kiss me.”

“Oh aye, I can do that,” he said as he lowered himself over her.

His body pressed to hers, bore her farther into the mattress. His heat surrounded her, his scent. She inhaled as he kissed her. Deep. Searching. His tongue slid over hers, licking, advancing, and then retreating in slow, measured motions.

He pulled his head up and away from her and stared down, his eyes simmering in the low light. Leveraging his weight on one arm, he reached with his free hand and stroked through her hair, pushing it away from her face, touching her cheek, and then he caressed her jaw.

She’d thought that he wasn’t a patient man, but now that they were here, he seemed only too willing to take his time, a fact she wasn’t sure she liked or not.

Edgy impatience tugged at her. Deep inside, beneath her skin, it was as if something came alive and took over. She was restless, suddenly flushed with heat. The blood in her veins seemed ready to boil.

Her br**sts were heavy, her ni**les painfully erect. And lower, in her most private regions, need pooled, making it impossible for her to remain still.

Was this what desire felt like? Was this what it was like to want someone so badly that it hurt?

Each touch, each caress, she soaked up greedily, wanting and needing more. She craved his hands upon her. She wanted his tenderness and caring. She needed him to look upon her as he’d never looked upon another woman.

And then he pushed himself upward and moved back until he was off the bed, leaving her bereft of his warmth. She raised her head, ready to protest, but something in his eyes stopped her.

His gaze had darkened, sending shivers racing across her skin. There was something intensely predatory about his stare, and it awakened a keen sense of aching vulnerability within her.