Read Online My Captive Highlander (Highland Adventure Book 7) by Vonda Sinclair - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Vonda Sinclair
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down to her again. The kiss resumed, slower and more sensuous this time. ' Slud ! Either she was a quick study or she'd lied about not knowing how to kiss. Was she more experienced than she admitted? He didn't care. He simply wanted her.
Wishing her to know how powerfully she affected him, he pressed his hard shaft against her hip.
A startling feeling ricocheted through him—the realization that he would do anything to protect her. That she belonged beside him. His instincts urged him to yank up her skirts and take her, make her his mate, his wife.
Damnation, he couldn't do that.
Grinding his teeth, he pulled her hands from around his neck and shoved to his feet.
"We must stop now, Lady Maili," he growled, turning away from her. He tried to calm his breathing and the excitement rampaging through him. Saints, how he desired her. He had never felt such intensity before.
"Why must we?" she asked in a small voice.
He turned to glare at her through the moonlight. He could barely discern the outline of her form where she sat on the ground by the tall stone. "You don't ken?" he demanded. Did she not feel the need as he did?
"Well… I was enjoying it," she confessed.
He let out a humorless laugh. In his view, that was putting it mildly. He reveled in her. He could devour her, lose himself in her.
"Did you not?" she asked in a puzzled voice.
"Aye, lass, I was enjoying it far too much, if you grasp my meaning."
She remained silent.
"You don't have an inkling what I'm talking about, do you?" he asked, keeping his voice low.
"Not… fully. I didn't ken it was possible to enjoy something too much."
He blew out an exasperated breath. How could she be so guileless and innocent? "Is it true you had never been kissed before I kissed you in the dungeon?"
"Of course. I would not lie," she said, her tone quiet but defensive.
She was so naïve, 'haps she was younger than he'd imagined. "How old are you?"
"Three and twenty," she snapped, rising to her feet. "You think simply because of my advanced age I should've been kissed long ago. I ken it. I was betrothed three times." Her voice caught with emotion.
A shock went through him. "Nay, I thought you younger. Pray pardon. I didn't mean to upset you." Saints! The last thing he wanted to do was make her cry.
" 'Tis naught," she whispered, turning away. The tears in her voice flayed him.
"Three and twenty is young. I'm five years older." He feared his lame attempt at soothing her wouldn't work, but he wished to know more about her. "What happened… with the betrothals? Why did you not marry?"
"None of them would have me after they… heard the rumors." Her voice hitched.
"What rumors?"
She shook her head. "I would rather not say."
Nay, she wouldn't have him believe her a witch like everyone else did. She wanted Shamus to like her, to take her with him to his clan's castle. He was an honorable man who would protect her. Not like the cowards who accused her of witchcraft.
"You can trust me. I'll not judge you."
His smooth, rich voice sounded soothing in the darkness, and somehow she believed him. Still, she didn't wish him to know. ' Twould change things. He might even leave her here, if he feared witches.
"Very well, then," he muttered. "Don't trust me."
She turned halfway. "I do… trust you, but 'tis difficult for me to talk about it. I hope you can understand."
Her horse started down the other side of the hill.
"Where's he going?" Shamus asked.
"Mayhap he's thirsty and kens there's a small loch at the bottom of the hill."
Thankful for the excuse to escape the conversation, she caught up with Ruairi, led him down the hill to the water's edge, then held his bridle while he drank. Moonlight and the tall mountains around them reflected off the dark water.
"Is it deep?" Shamus asked from a few yards away.
"Toward the center it is. But the edges are shallow. I have swum here before."
"You have?" His voice held surprise. "Nude?"
"Nay! I wore a smock."
She could not
Wishing her to know how powerfully she affected him, he pressed his hard shaft against her hip.
A startling feeling ricocheted through him—the realization that he would do anything to protect her. That she belonged beside him. His instincts urged him to yank up her skirts and take her, make her his mate, his wife.
Damnation, he couldn't do that.
Grinding his teeth, he pulled her hands from around his neck and shoved to his feet.
"We must stop now, Lady Maili," he growled, turning away from her. He tried to calm his breathing and the excitement rampaging through him. Saints, how he desired her. He had never felt such intensity before.
"Why must we?" she asked in a small voice.
He turned to glare at her through the moonlight. He could barely discern the outline of her form where she sat on the ground by the tall stone. "You don't ken?" he demanded. Did she not feel the need as he did?
"Well… I was enjoying it," she confessed.
He let out a humorless laugh. In his view, that was putting it mildly. He reveled in her. He could devour her, lose himself in her.
"Did you not?" she asked in a puzzled voice.
"Aye, lass, I was enjoying it far too much, if you grasp my meaning."
She remained silent.
"You don't have an inkling what I'm talking about, do you?" he asked, keeping his voice low.
"Not… fully. I didn't ken it was possible to enjoy something too much."
He blew out an exasperated breath. How could she be so guileless and innocent? "Is it true you had never been kissed before I kissed you in the dungeon?"
"Of course. I would not lie," she said, her tone quiet but defensive.
She was so naïve, 'haps she was younger than he'd imagined. "How old are you?"
"Three and twenty," she snapped, rising to her feet. "You think simply because of my advanced age I should've been kissed long ago. I ken it. I was betrothed three times." Her voice caught with emotion.
A shock went through him. "Nay, I thought you younger. Pray pardon. I didn't mean to upset you." Saints! The last thing he wanted to do was make her cry.
" 'Tis naught," she whispered, turning away. The tears in her voice flayed him.
"Three and twenty is young. I'm five years older." He feared his lame attempt at soothing her wouldn't work, but he wished to know more about her. "What happened… with the betrothals? Why did you not marry?"
"None of them would have me after they… heard the rumors." Her voice hitched.
"What rumors?"
She shook her head. "I would rather not say."
Nay, she wouldn't have him believe her a witch like everyone else did. She wanted Shamus to like her, to take her with him to his clan's castle. He was an honorable man who would protect her. Not like the cowards who accused her of witchcraft.
"You can trust me. I'll not judge you."
His smooth, rich voice sounded soothing in the darkness, and somehow she believed him. Still, she didn't wish him to know. ' Twould change things. He might even leave her here, if he feared witches.
"Very well, then," he muttered. "Don't trust me."
She turned halfway. "I do… trust you, but 'tis difficult for me to talk about it. I hope you can understand."
Her horse started down the other side of the hill.
"Where's he going?" Shamus asked.
"Mayhap he's thirsty and kens there's a small loch at the bottom of the hill."
Thankful for the excuse to escape the conversation, she caught up with Ruairi, led him down the hill to the water's edge, then held his bridle while he drank. Moonlight and the tall mountains around them reflected off the dark water.
"Is it deep?" Shamus asked from a few yards away.
"Toward the center it is. But the edges are shallow. I have swum here before."
"You have?" His voice held surprise. "Nude?"
"Nay! I wore a smock."
She could not
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