Read Online Hannah Howell by Highland Hearts - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Highland Hearts
Ads: Link
he decided as he began to wash the dust off himself. She probably just needed time to compose herself.
“They willna come looking for us here again,” he said in reassurance. “They will think we are miles away. I left many a false trail for them to puzzle over.”
“Good.”
Finished with his washing, he turned to stare at her. “Tess? Is something wrong?”
“Nay, nothing is wrong.”
“Ye are lying. Now”—he held out his hand—“come here into the light, where I can see you.”
She stared at him standing there, his broad smooth chest bared and his hand held out to her. It was a sight that broke what little control she had gained over herself. With a soft, inarticulate sound she raced toward him, flinging herself against him, her arms around his neck.
Startled and unbalanced by the sudden charge, Revan stumbled. He sat down, hard, on their bedding. Although he put his arms around her to keep her from tumbling, she showed no signs of awkwardness. Instead, she continued to cling to him, settling herself comfortably on his lap. He began to become far too aware of how good she felt in his arms, of how little she was wearing, and, even more dangerous, to recall how sweet it was to kiss her.
“Sweet Mary, I thought ye werena coming back,” she whispered in a rushed voice. “I thought they had murdered you. I began to see the wolves gnawing on your bones.”
“Wolves gnawing on my bones?” He laughed shakily.
“I dinna think I have ever been so scared in my whole life.”
“I had to leave you here alone.” Despite sternly telling himself not to do it, he slid his hands over her slim legs, finding her skin as silky and warm as he had imagined it would be.
“I wasna scared about that. Well, not much. ’Twas for you. I was scared for you. Ye were the one being hunted down.”
It occurred to her that she ought to slap his hands away. She might not know much, but she did know it was not proper to let him touch her legs as he was doing. Then she decided “proper” could go to perdition. The gentle stroking felt too good to put a stop to it.
“Well, as ye can clearly see, I have returned hale and hearty.”
Revan found clear speech a little difficult. It felt so good to touch her, he wanted to touch more of her. He could feel the shape of her small firm breasts against his chest. The way her shapely little backside pressed against his groin made him ache. If he did not get some distance between them soon, he would forget all the reasons why he should not touch her as he craved to.
“There are no cuts, no flesh wounds, no bruises . . . ?”
“Nay, not a scratch.”
He could feel her soft full mouth move against the side of his neck as she spoke. It increased his aching need to kiss her tenfold. When she shifted ever so slightly in his lap, rubbing her tempting derriere against him, he barely stifled a groan. Matters were getting completely out of hand. If he did not put a halt to this closeness, and soon, things would be past redemption.
“Well”—he inwardly cursed the husky unsteadiness of his voice, a condition worsened by the way she had begun to move her small hands over his back—“why dinna ye sit by the fire, and I will prepare us a meal.”
“I am sitting by the fire.”
The movement of her lips against the side of his neck was one time too many. Had he really felt her tongue briefly, tentatively, stroke his skin? Every desire he had tried to control during their sojourn in the cave was running wild.
“Dinna do it, Revan,” he muttered to himself even as he smoothed his hand over her thick unbound hair.
Leaning back just a little, Tess stared up at him. “Dinna do what?”
His eyes were a stormy gray, and the look they held stirred her blood as much as his hands. She placed her hands on his chest, lightly caressing its smooth, taut breadth. Beneath her hand she could feel the quickening of his heartbeat. He wanted her. It was a heady realization.
“Kiss you,” he
“They willna come looking for us here again,” he said in reassurance. “They will think we are miles away. I left many a false trail for them to puzzle over.”
“Good.”
Finished with his washing, he turned to stare at her. “Tess? Is something wrong?”
“Nay, nothing is wrong.”
“Ye are lying. Now”—he held out his hand—“come here into the light, where I can see you.”
She stared at him standing there, his broad smooth chest bared and his hand held out to her. It was a sight that broke what little control she had gained over herself. With a soft, inarticulate sound she raced toward him, flinging herself against him, her arms around his neck.
Startled and unbalanced by the sudden charge, Revan stumbled. He sat down, hard, on their bedding. Although he put his arms around her to keep her from tumbling, she showed no signs of awkwardness. Instead, she continued to cling to him, settling herself comfortably on his lap. He began to become far too aware of how good she felt in his arms, of how little she was wearing, and, even more dangerous, to recall how sweet it was to kiss her.
“Sweet Mary, I thought ye werena coming back,” she whispered in a rushed voice. “I thought they had murdered you. I began to see the wolves gnawing on your bones.”
“Wolves gnawing on my bones?” He laughed shakily.
“I dinna think I have ever been so scared in my whole life.”
“I had to leave you here alone.” Despite sternly telling himself not to do it, he slid his hands over her slim legs, finding her skin as silky and warm as he had imagined it would be.
“I wasna scared about that. Well, not much. ’Twas for you. I was scared for you. Ye were the one being hunted down.”
It occurred to her that she ought to slap his hands away. She might not know much, but she did know it was not proper to let him touch her legs as he was doing. Then she decided “proper” could go to perdition. The gentle stroking felt too good to put a stop to it.
“Well, as ye can clearly see, I have returned hale and hearty.”
Revan found clear speech a little difficult. It felt so good to touch her, he wanted to touch more of her. He could feel the shape of her small firm breasts against his chest. The way her shapely little backside pressed against his groin made him ache. If he did not get some distance between them soon, he would forget all the reasons why he should not touch her as he craved to.
“There are no cuts, no flesh wounds, no bruises . . . ?”
“Nay, not a scratch.”
He could feel her soft full mouth move against the side of his neck as she spoke. It increased his aching need to kiss her tenfold. When she shifted ever so slightly in his lap, rubbing her tempting derriere against him, he barely stifled a groan. Matters were getting completely out of hand. If he did not put a halt to this closeness, and soon, things would be past redemption.
“Well”—he inwardly cursed the husky unsteadiness of his voice, a condition worsened by the way she had begun to move her small hands over his back—“why dinna ye sit by the fire, and I will prepare us a meal.”
“I am sitting by the fire.”
The movement of her lips against the side of his neck was one time too many. Had he really felt her tongue briefly, tentatively, stroke his skin? Every desire he had tried to control during their sojourn in the cave was running wild.
“Dinna do it, Revan,” he muttered to himself even as he smoothed his hand over her thick unbound hair.
Leaning back just a little, Tess stared up at him. “Dinna do what?”
His eyes were a stormy gray, and the look they held stirred her blood as much as his hands. She placed her hands on his chest, lightly caressing its smooth, taut breadth. Beneath her hand she could feel the quickening of his heartbeat. He wanted her. It was a heady realization.
“Kiss you,” he
Similar Books
