To Tempt a Scotsman (Somerhart 1)
"He had a right to it." His thumb traced her eyebrow, then her cheek, trailing sparks that swirled into her veins and down to her belly.
"Would you have missed me if I'd died?"
His thumb stilled, his hand firmed against her chin and that bright hurt lit his eyes again, fading her smile. "Aye. I had plenty of time to think how much I'd miss you."
Tears pricked her eyes, and, wanting to soothe his pain and her own love, she reached to curl her hand around the back of his neck, sliding her fingers beneath the collar of his shirt to the hot skin beneath. He leaned in when she pulled him close, and she kissed him, harder, more fiercely than he'd kissed her.
Collin tried to gentle it, but she opened her mouth and licked at his bottom lip, pressed between his lips with her tongue until he groaned and cursed and kissed her back.
She couldn't help a small laugh of triumph, a laugh that was caught by his questing mouth. Oh, his tongue was so hot, sliding over hers, and he tasted of tea and something sweet and of the man she wanted so much. She thought of that tongue and what it could do to her and moaned so roughly that he kissed her harder, till she sank back into the pillows and pulled his body atop hers.
When his hand wandered down to slide over her nipple, she cried out, high and loud, and startled him away from her.
"Ah, Christ," he groaned, pulling back till her hands fell away.
Alex pouted.
"I've insulted you and your brother enough. I meant not to touch you again."
"Ever?" Panic pierced her heart, but her pulse quieted at his quick smile.
"Not till we're married at any rate."
"Married?"
"Aye. Will ye have me, caitein? I cannot give you the life you're accustomed to, but I can provide. I've a home and servants. I own more horses than you'd care to ride."
"Yes."
"And I believe that—Yes?"
"Yes. I will have you, Collin Blackburn."
"You will?"
"If you really want me." "Oh, I want you."
"And not just to soothe your honor?"
"Ha." His hand rose to smooth her hair. "I'm finding it hard not to maul you in your sickbed. That has little enough to do with honor. And you? Would you marry me to honor your family?"
"Oh, you know me better than that, my lord. I care not a whit for honor."
His silver eyes narrowed at her, searching for an answer, urging her to offer him a reason, but she kept her lips tight together. Oh, she loved him, but she wasn't such a fool that she'd offer him that. He did not love her and, regardless what he'd said, his honor was the crux of this proposal. Still, he wanted her, and he liked her more than a little and that was enough. She would love him so well, be such a good wife, that he would fall in love with her before the year was out, she was sure of it.
If she could make this right. "Collin. . ."
His lightness faded into worry. "Aye?"
"I must tell you something first, before this goes further."
"Ominous words, caitein. What is it?"
"I. . . I meant this to turn out well." "And so it will."
She tried to smile, but couldn't manage it, and stared at her hands instead. "Alex?"
"I saw Damien St. Claire. On my way to meet you. I convinced him to meet me later. I thought to send you to him, but not until after . .. well, afterward. And then I was ill."