In Bed with a Highlander (McCabe Trilogy 1)

He sighed more to stifle the laughter that threatened than to show exasperation. “You have but a moment before I return. I suggest you make haste. You’ve kept me waiting long enough.”

He could swear she growled as he turned to walk out the door. He grinned again. She was proving to be a worthy bride and mistress to the McCabe clan. He might have expected a woman in her circumstances to be a frightened mouse, but she was as fierce as one of his warriors. He was looking forward to peeling back the many diverse layers she’d presented and getting to the woman underneath. The very beautiful, soft lass that he’d already seen glistening and wet.

Lord, but she was beautiful. And damn if he wasn’t eager to get her in front of the priest.

Mairin lunged from the tub and wrapped one of the furs tightly around her. Casting furtive glances over her shoulder, she stood in front of the fire as she hastened to dry herself enough that she could put her gown back on. It would be just like the laird to walk back in before she finished dressing.

Her hair still quite wet, she pulled her clothing on and then sat in front of the fire to dry and comb her hair. She shivered when the window fur fluttered against a particularly stiff burst of wind and the cooler air blew over her damp hair.

When the knock sounded, though she’d expected the laird, she jumped and turned to see the door open to admit him. His eyes raked over her like hot coals, and suddenly she didn’t feel a chill at all. In fact, it was decidedly warmer in her chamber now.

She stared silently, mouth dry, and, for the first time, without words. There was something different about him, and she wasn’t sure what, or that she wanted to know. He studied her—nay he wasn’t studying her. He was devouring her with his eyes. Like he was a hungry wolf closing in on a kill.

She swallowed at the image that thought invoked, and she covered her neck with her hand as if to protect her from his teeth.

He didn’t miss the gesture and amusement gleamed brightly in his eyes. “Why are you afraid of me now, lass? You’ve shown no fear of me from the beginning. I can’t imagine that I’ve done anything now to change that.”

“ ’Tis over,” she said quietly.

He cocked his head to the side and then he moved closer to her, settling his large frame on the small bench in front of the fire.

“What’s over, lass?”

“Time,” she muttered. “I’ve run out of time. I was a fool for not being better prepared. I waited too long, ’tis God’s truth. I should have selected a husband long before now, but it was so peaceful at the abbey. I was lured into a false sense of security. Mother Serenity and I always spoke of the future, but with each passing day, the future loomed ever nearer.”

eight="0em" width="1em" align="justify">He shook his head and she glanced down at him, puzzled by his refusal.

“You did just right, Mairin. You waited.”

Confused, she wrinkled her nose and asked, “What did I wait for, Laird?”

He smiled then, and she saw the arrogance etched in every facet of his face. “You waited for me.”

Oh, but the man knew how to ruin her mood. ’Twas the truth, she thought he did it apurpose. She sighed, for it did her little good to continue to deny his suit. She knew and he knew that she’d marry him. There was no other choice. But he wanted the words, so she’d give him the words.

“I’ll marry you.”

His eyes gleamed in triumph. She thought he’d tease her some more, perhaps tell her it was high time she’d come to her senses. But he did none of those things. He kissed her.

One moment he was a respectable distance away. The next he was so close that she was enveloped by his scent.

He took her chin and tipped it up so he could fit his mouth to hers. Warm—nay, hot—and getting hotter with each passing second, his lips moved over hers like velvet.

It was an impressive feat that he could kiss her and all her senses fled. For a man who was constantly reminding her to come to hers, he seemed to take great delight in making them flee again.

His tongue rasped across her lips, and when she kept them tightly closed, he turned light and coaxing. He teased the seam of her mouth, licking and then nibbling. This time he didn’t order her to open her mouth, and despite her determination not to do so, she found herself sighing in utter bliss.

As soon as her lips parted, his tongue slipped inside, probing and stroking with delicate precision. Each caress incited a deep response, one that she was at a loss to explain. How could kissing make her br**sts go tight and other parts of her body tingle and swell until she felt near pain?

He evoked a restless, cagey feeling that made her want to squirm right out of her skin. And when he raised his hands to slide them up her arms, she shivered, trembling all the way down to her toes.

When he pulled away, she was dazed and she stared at him in absolute confusion.

“Ah, lass, what you do to me,” he whispered.

She blinked rapidly as she attempted to gather herself. This was a time when she needed to be solemn and sage. Offer something about how their marriage would be strong and based on mutual respect.

But none of those things would form in her mind. Quite simply, his kisses reduced her to a blithering idiot.

“You don’t kiss the correct way,” she blurted out.

Mortified that this was all she could manage to say, she closed her eyes and prepared herself for his censure.

When she reopened them, all she saw was deep amusement. The man looked fair to laughing. Her eyes narrowed. It was obvious he needed instruction on the matter.