Her blood was still humming, her skin still tingling from his kisses. Aye, her body was pressed against his, held in place by her locked hands. But otherwise, it had only been their lips touching…and still her nipples were hard peaks straining toward him, and her core ached for his touch….
Sometimes, ‘tis a burden to have sisters who’s taught ye so much about what passes between a man and a woman.
She was ready to learn all she could from Kester.
“I’ll no’ be sharing them with ye.”
Robena blinked. “What?”
“My wildest imaginings.” His blue eyes were serious again as they stared down at her. “I’ll no’ be sharing them with ye.”
She rolled her eyes dismissively. “I’ve learned ye’re a modest man, Laird MacBain. I mean, ‘tis possible ye’ve just been oblivious to my attempts to seduce ye—“
“I’ve been aware, lass.” His voice deepened as he dropped his chin but held her gaze. “A man would have to be an idiot to miss the way a beautiful woman like ye threw herself at him.”
He thought she was beautiful? The unexpected compliment—or was it a lie?—flustered her, and she shook her head. “And ye’re no’ an idiot. So, aye, I’ve been flirting with ye, and ye’ve been a gentleman.”
Too much of a gentleman, if ye ask me. What’s wrong with a little harmless flirting and kissing in hidden corridors?
He closed his eyes on a wince. “Which is why I shouldnae have accepted this tour from ye, even if ‘twas fascinating to see how the walls of the main floor of the castle are honeycombed with passages.”
“See? Ye’re modest.”
His eyes flew open. “Modest?”
“Look, I’m no’ judging ye.” For fun, she flexed her hips forward again, and aye, there was the evidence of his arousal. Just checking. “I understand if ye’re saving yerself for marriage—“
His choking sound interrupted her, but she shrugged and continued.
“And while I’m no’ exactly—“
Now it sounded as if he were dying. Or possibly laughing at her.
“—I am saving myself for the man I’m going to marry. Ye ken my father has decreed all of us—myself and my five sisters—marry? Whomever marries and produces a grandson first, her husband gets to be the next Oliphant laird, which is frankly stupid. And sexist.”
“Sexist?” He sounded as if he were being strangled. Maybe he was choking on something.
“Aye, ‘tis a word Wynda uses a lot. Ye ken she’s always reading something or other. Sexist. It means….” Well, actually, she didn’t know, but she could guess. “The most sexy.”
“Sexy?”
He was adorable, even when he was choking. “Goodness, ye are sheltered, are ye no’?” She grinned up at him. “I could help ye with that. I’ll share my wildest imaginings with ye, if ye share yers with me.”
Well, at least he seemed to understand that request. He swallowed.
“I told ye lass, I cannae. I willnae.”
Robena tucked her fingers into his belt—the one which held his mighty sword and matching dagger—and hid her triumphant smirk when he shuddered. She knew he was attracted to her, and she knew he enjoyed spending time with her; the last weeks of laughter and fun had proved that.
So why was he playing coy now when it came to the kissing?
“And I told ye I understand, Kester,” she said gently. “If ye want to wait until after we’re married, I understand.”
Da said they had to be married, and from the moment this Highland laird and his men had arrived at her family’s keep weeks ago, she’d known Kester MacBain was the one.
To her surprise, instead of grinning, instead of gently lowering his lips to hers once more, he pushed away from the wall. Since her arms were still locked around him, she went with him, stumbling forward until she unlaced her fingers out of desperation to stay upright. Her hands landed on his hips as he ran both hands through his close-cropped brown hair.
“Lass, I’m no’ going to marry ye.”