“Not just yet, I beg you,” Raith commented as he brushed off his breeches. He was wearing lawful English clothes, with a frock coat of blue wool and a plain jabot. Not formal, but not so scruffy as to appear a ruffian, either. Indeed, he had never looked more handsome.

Katrine took another step backward. “Of all the nerve, forcing yourself into a lady’s bedchamber!”

The slow smile Raith flashed her radiated masculine charm. “Not just any lady’s bedchamber. Yours. You’re my intended wife, so that makes it—”

“I am not your intended anything! You can just disabuse yourself of that notion at once.”

“Besides,” he continued smoothly, advancing on her as she retreated, “turnabout is fair play. I seem to recall you forcing yourself into my bedchamber not so long ago. You wouldn’t leave no matter how much I pleaded. I recall how your visit ended, too....”

Katrine saw him glance at the canopied tester bed swathed with yards of green damask. When Raith returned his gaze to her, his blue eyes held a dark gleam that she recognized as desire. Her pulse started pounding, and she suddenly felt hot, breathless. She remembered quite well the incident he referred to—when she had followed him into his bedchamber and refused to leave until he made love to her. Surely Raith wouldn’t stoop so low as to attempt the same tactic with her. Surely not…

Defensively Katrine’s hand stole to her throat. Heaven help her if he did. Despite all her protestations that she didn’t want him, her body was flushed and aching for his touch. She didn’t trust herself to withstand a direct assault of fierce-tender kisses and passionate caresses. She didn’t even trust herself to remain in the same room with him. Not with him so close and bent on some nefarious purpose of his own, like abducting her again. The thought sent a chilling splash of reality on her overheated senses. Hastily Katrine changed the direction of her retreat, edging her way toward the door.

Raith anticipated her move, though, getting there before her. “Not so fast, my love. We have our future to discuss.”

“No,” Katrine declared frantically, “no, we don’t! You had a dozen chances to discuss our future, but you turned them all down. I have nothing further to say to you. Indeed, I refuse to speak to you at all. It is quite beneath my dignity to converse with a sneaking Highland thief.”

“Very well,” he replied calmly, taking the candle from her. “We always did have more success making love than talking, anyway.”

Her mouth opened at that disquieting statement, but no sound came out. She merely stood there like a simpleton while Raith set the light on a candle stand, then turned back to her. Realizing the acute danger she was in, Katrine tried to scurry away, but Raith thwarted her effort to escape by edging her into a corner. Shortly she discovered she had no room left to retreat. Her back was against the wall.

“Raith, no!” she gasped as he reached for her.

He hesitated, his fingers resting lightly on her shoulders. Slowly his gaze dropped to survey her, sweeping over her sackstyle dressing gown, lingering on her breasts and then lower, on her abdomen. Katrine’s breath scrambled for evenness. Her current state of dishabille was much less revealing than some other occasions she could remember, but considering the way Raith was looking at her, she might have been naked. And to her dismay Katrine felt her nipples hardening beneath his hot gaze.

Then that same devastating gaze rose, to the fiery hair spilling around her face in flaming disarray. His tone, when he spoke, was soft, seductive. “So bonny you are.... Are you familiar with our Scotch saying, Katie, choose your wife with her nightcap on? A man should see his intended at her very plainest, unadorned by paint or finery that might cloud his judgment. I’ve seen you wearing a nightcap before—the first time we met, remember? I’ve seen you in every stage of dress there is, so I know what a treasure I’m getting.”

Katrine found herself quivering at his cajoling whisper. Raith had never before troubled himself to ply her with loving words or tender persuasion. Now he was subjecting her to the full force of his charm, and it was a hea

dy experience. She stared at him, her lips parting in anticipation as his warm breath caressed her face, as his skillful fingers found the ribbon that held her dressing gown closed.

“This is very fetching, sweetheart, but you don’t need it.”

He gave a gentle tug. His bold action sent her heart leaping in her breast. Katrine jumped, abruptly coming to her senses.

“Raith, no!” she yelped, pressing her hands against his chest.

He paused in his task to peer down at her. “Don’t tell me you’re suddenly overcome with propriety because we aren’t wed yet.”

“This has absolutely nothing to do with propriety!”

Raith slowly bent his head. “Then I suppose you require me to court you first.”

“No, I don’t want you to court me! I don’t—”

“Good, because I don’t think our child would wait.”

Our child. The words sounded sweeter than any she had ever heard…almost as sweet as the taste of his lips when he seized her mouth in a kiss so gentle it was shattering.

Katrine shuddered with pleasure, wishing she could somehow force her fingers to stop clinging to him, wishing she could somehow deny the incredible sensations that were streaking through her body, wishing she could somehow find the willpower to spurn him the way he had done to her....

It was a long, long moment before Raith raised his head. “Ah, bonny Katie,” he breathed, his voice low and husky. “You’ve driven me to the brink of madness more times than I care to think about. What’s left for me to do but give in gracefully and accept my fate?”

Katrine was still struggling for the breath he had stolen from her, but she managed to summon her wounded pride. Defiantly she shook her head. Her senses might be devastated but her mind was quite ready for battle. “You’re only willing to marry me because I’m increasing.”

His eyes softened, glowing with such liquid warmth that her breath caught in her throat. “No, Katrine, that isn’t why. I’m willing to marry you because I find I can’t live without you.”

Katrine stared at him, finding nothing to say in response to that incredulous statement. Raith smiled and then lowered his lips again. There was another long interval before Katrine was allowed up for air.

Tags: Nicole Jordan Historical
Source: readsnovelonline.net