Read Online Just in Time for a Highlander by Gwyn Cready - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gwyn Cready
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crying, I’m afraid you have said entirely the wrong thing.”
“You’ll find I have a knack for that. It seems to be my trademark.”
Her shoulders hitched. “I miss Bran. I miss having someone to talk to, someone who would understand. Sometimes it’s just so…”
She covered her face.
“I came here to apologize,” Duncan said, feeling his own throat tighten, “and I’ve upset you. I’ll go.”
“No…no. Please. Stay. I feel as if I could just talk to someone for a bit—about anything other than the clan—it would help.”
Duncan stepped closer. He was not an inexperienced seducer, and many late nights in bars, empty offices, and hotel rooms had taught him that in this moment, he could take her in his arms and kiss her and that she would likely kiss back. But he dared not attempt such a thing. He knew one false word, one false move, would instantly destroy the tiny bit of trust he’d built here with her.
“I would be happy to stay, Lady Kerr. I will do whatever you wish.”
She took a step and reached for him. To his surprise, she kissed him hungrily.
With the little part of his mind not focused on the melon taste of her mouth and the dizzying scent of lilacs in her hair, he battled to control his hands. What she chose to embark on was one thing. He would not take the role of aggressor. In fact, he was so afraid of overstepping his bounds that when she broke away, he found himself cupping the back of his head with both hands.
“ Och ,” he said, “that was wonderful.”
But the look on her face was embarrassment. “Well, that explains why no one wants to talk to me. That was unthinkably rude. I do apologize, MacHarg.”
Duncan twisted and turned, fingers still laced, trying to find a way— any way—to rescue the moment. “I—I—”
A noise in the hall made her straighten. “I’m sorry, but you must leave. I must also ask you not to mention our meeting. ’Twould make things uncomfortable for me.”
“No, of course not.” He was stumbling backward toward the hall, propelled by the sheer force of her will. At the door, he made himself stop and gather his thoughts. He did not want to leave, and he certainly didn’t want to leave her regretting what had just happened.
“Lady Kerr, if you want me to stay the night, I would consider it an honor. And you can be absolutely assured that whatever happened in that bed would stay strictly between you and me.”
He heard a giggle and turned.
While he’d been making his impassioned plea, the young maid who’d interrupted them in his room earlier in the evening had appeared in one of the doorways beside the bed, holding a large tin jug. She eyed Duncan with amused interest. The noise Abby had heard hadn’t been in the hall; it had been in the bathing area.
“Your bath is drawn, milady.”
Abby cleared her throat. “Thank you, Mr. MacHarg,” she said quite formally, “for the honor of the offer, but I think you understand why I cannot accept it.”
Duncan, you imbecile.
He reached for the knob. “I wasn’t lying when I said it was my trademark. You can count on it to pop up at the most inopportune times.”
Nora snickered, and Duncan’s heart dropped sixteen stories. “No, no, no! That’s not what I meant. I meant my—”
“I know what you meant,” Abby said, smiling. “I wish you a good night.”
Nine
Duncan retreated, his cheeks burning like fire. But no matter how embarrassed he was, the glow from those seconds in her arms would outshine everything for many, many hours to come. He could endure a lifetime of Nora’s snickers for a reward like that.
Happily whistling “Walking on Sunshine,” he picked up the candle he’d put down earlier and walked all the way to the end of the hall before he realized he didn’t remember which room was his. He turned and spotted something he hadn’t on the first pass. His wooden sword was leaning against one of the doors—the door, he had to assume, that was his. He gazed at
“You’ll find I have a knack for that. It seems to be my trademark.”
Her shoulders hitched. “I miss Bran. I miss having someone to talk to, someone who would understand. Sometimes it’s just so…”
She covered her face.
“I came here to apologize,” Duncan said, feeling his own throat tighten, “and I’ve upset you. I’ll go.”
“No…no. Please. Stay. I feel as if I could just talk to someone for a bit—about anything other than the clan—it would help.”
Duncan stepped closer. He was not an inexperienced seducer, and many late nights in bars, empty offices, and hotel rooms had taught him that in this moment, he could take her in his arms and kiss her and that she would likely kiss back. But he dared not attempt such a thing. He knew one false word, one false move, would instantly destroy the tiny bit of trust he’d built here with her.
“I would be happy to stay, Lady Kerr. I will do whatever you wish.”
She took a step and reached for him. To his surprise, she kissed him hungrily.
With the little part of his mind not focused on the melon taste of her mouth and the dizzying scent of lilacs in her hair, he battled to control his hands. What she chose to embark on was one thing. He would not take the role of aggressor. In fact, he was so afraid of overstepping his bounds that when she broke away, he found himself cupping the back of his head with both hands.
“ Och ,” he said, “that was wonderful.”
But the look on her face was embarrassment. “Well, that explains why no one wants to talk to me. That was unthinkably rude. I do apologize, MacHarg.”
Duncan twisted and turned, fingers still laced, trying to find a way— any way—to rescue the moment. “I—I—”
A noise in the hall made her straighten. “I’m sorry, but you must leave. I must also ask you not to mention our meeting. ’Twould make things uncomfortable for me.”
“No, of course not.” He was stumbling backward toward the hall, propelled by the sheer force of her will. At the door, he made himself stop and gather his thoughts. He did not want to leave, and he certainly didn’t want to leave her regretting what had just happened.
“Lady Kerr, if you want me to stay the night, I would consider it an honor. And you can be absolutely assured that whatever happened in that bed would stay strictly between you and me.”
He heard a giggle and turned.
While he’d been making his impassioned plea, the young maid who’d interrupted them in his room earlier in the evening had appeared in one of the doorways beside the bed, holding a large tin jug. She eyed Duncan with amused interest. The noise Abby had heard hadn’t been in the hall; it had been in the bathing area.
“Your bath is drawn, milady.”
Abby cleared her throat. “Thank you, Mr. MacHarg,” she said quite formally, “for the honor of the offer, but I think you understand why I cannot accept it.”
Duncan, you imbecile.
He reached for the knob. “I wasn’t lying when I said it was my trademark. You can count on it to pop up at the most inopportune times.”
Nora snickered, and Duncan’s heart dropped sixteen stories. “No, no, no! That’s not what I meant. I meant my—”
“I know what you meant,” Abby said, smiling. “I wish you a good night.”
Nine
Duncan retreated, his cheeks burning like fire. But no matter how embarrassed he was, the glow from those seconds in her arms would outshine everything for many, many hours to come. He could endure a lifetime of Nora’s snickers for a reward like that.
Happily whistling “Walking on Sunshine,” he picked up the candle he’d put down earlier and walked all the way to the end of the hall before he realized he didn’t remember which room was his. He turned and spotted something he hadn’t on the first pass. His wooden sword was leaning against one of the doors—the door, he had to assume, that was his. He gazed at
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