Read Online Sarah Gabriel by Stealing Sophie - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Stealing Sophie
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he felt a new sort of quicksand beneath him.
“I want you to know,” she said, “that I am not frightened of what may happen next.” Yet her voice quavered. “If my brother intended us to marry, he had his reasons. Likely he wanted to help me escape my father’s promise to Campbell of Kinnoull.”
“Sir Henry,” he snarled, “is not of Kinnoull. He rents the damn place. And he has no right to you.”
“Not now. Though Sir Henry is a decent man, I’m sure, I did not want to marry him. I tried to bring up that subject when I dined with him this evening, but he would not give me a chance to talk about it, and scarcely listened to me on other topics.”
“Because he is not a decent man, madam,” Connor growled.
“Every man has his strong suit, Mr. MacPherson. Sir Henry expressed genuine concern and distress for my clan’s troubles. But I am grateful to you for rescuing me from marriage to him.”
How had she managed to put such a shine on it? He frowned. “I am no hero. Do not think it.”
She tipped her head. “I confess, Mr. MacPherson, that I am rather enjoying being stolen away.”
“Enjoying it?” He stared at her.
“It is…rather thrilling.” A coy sparkle danced in her eyes. “I have a deplorable craving, sir, that has never been satisfied.”
Connor wished she had not said that. Somehow her words shot straight to his groin. He waited.
“I have a taste for adventure. It is a lamentable quality, along with my temper. And my craving has never been met until tonight.”
Adventure? The girl had acted as a Jacobite spy for a year or more, or so her brother had hinted—what more excitement could she possibly want? Connor scratched his head, bewildered.
“We all need backbone in life, and you have your share, lass, believe me.”
She shook her head. “Not me. But I will apologize for my impulsive temper. I cannot always control it. But I still disagree with you regarding this night’s work.”
“Aye so, we have differing views on that,” he acknowledged.
She could turn with the wind, and he was hard pressed to keep up with the changes. Feisty but grateful, timid yet brave, prim yet passionate…she was both hellion and angel. Turnabout witch, he thought, frowning.
He took her hand, striding onward. “Come ahead, madam.”
“Where are we going? To an outlaw’s hideaway? A cave, perhaps? Might we have a fire, and some food?”
“Luxuries. Next you’ll be asking for a bath and a lady’s maid. Or would you rather have a musket and a powder horn of your very own?” He cocked a brow at her. “How far does that taste for adventure run?”
“I should never have mentioned it—a silly fantasy. I don’t have the courage of a midge.”
He looked sideways at her. “Several midges, I’d say.”
“All I want now is a bed…alone. You will give me that tonight, sir, if you please. That is, if you have a bed.”
Every part of him tightened with deep, dark excitement. “A heathery nest for a Highland thief.”
“No real bed, no hearth, no home—you are a true fugitive. A genuine brigand.”
“Fierce as wolves, I am. Now hush it.” He rather liked the sound of her voice, so lovely upon the night breeze. He had to admit he even liked her chatter. A little of it, at least.
“I will not stay in a filthy outlaw cave for long, I warn you. I am more content in a house, where I can putter about.”
“Putter as much as you like later. For now—shhh!” He reached out with his free hand to cover her mouth, not with haste and strength as before, but gently this time. So gently.
Touching her like that was a mistake. Her lips under his fingertips were moist, luscious, felt nearly as good as kissing her had felt.
Not yet, he told himself. Go easy, until he had puzzled out the situation and knew where he stood in it. He lifted his hand.
“You’re talking as much as I am,” she pointed out.
He cast her a quelling look.
She did not seem quelled. But then she sneezed delicately,
“I want you to know,” she said, “that I am not frightened of what may happen next.” Yet her voice quavered. “If my brother intended us to marry, he had his reasons. Likely he wanted to help me escape my father’s promise to Campbell of Kinnoull.”
“Sir Henry,” he snarled, “is not of Kinnoull. He rents the damn place. And he has no right to you.”
“Not now. Though Sir Henry is a decent man, I’m sure, I did not want to marry him. I tried to bring up that subject when I dined with him this evening, but he would not give me a chance to talk about it, and scarcely listened to me on other topics.”
“Because he is not a decent man, madam,” Connor growled.
“Every man has his strong suit, Mr. MacPherson. Sir Henry expressed genuine concern and distress for my clan’s troubles. But I am grateful to you for rescuing me from marriage to him.”
How had she managed to put such a shine on it? He frowned. “I am no hero. Do not think it.”
She tipped her head. “I confess, Mr. MacPherson, that I am rather enjoying being stolen away.”
“Enjoying it?” He stared at her.
“It is…rather thrilling.” A coy sparkle danced in her eyes. “I have a deplorable craving, sir, that has never been satisfied.”
Connor wished she had not said that. Somehow her words shot straight to his groin. He waited.
“I have a taste for adventure. It is a lamentable quality, along with my temper. And my craving has never been met until tonight.”
Adventure? The girl had acted as a Jacobite spy for a year or more, or so her brother had hinted—what more excitement could she possibly want? Connor scratched his head, bewildered.
“We all need backbone in life, and you have your share, lass, believe me.”
She shook her head. “Not me. But I will apologize for my impulsive temper. I cannot always control it. But I still disagree with you regarding this night’s work.”
“Aye so, we have differing views on that,” he acknowledged.
She could turn with the wind, and he was hard pressed to keep up with the changes. Feisty but grateful, timid yet brave, prim yet passionate…she was both hellion and angel. Turnabout witch, he thought, frowning.
He took her hand, striding onward. “Come ahead, madam.”
“Where are we going? To an outlaw’s hideaway? A cave, perhaps? Might we have a fire, and some food?”
“Luxuries. Next you’ll be asking for a bath and a lady’s maid. Or would you rather have a musket and a powder horn of your very own?” He cocked a brow at her. “How far does that taste for adventure run?”
“I should never have mentioned it—a silly fantasy. I don’t have the courage of a midge.”
He looked sideways at her. “Several midges, I’d say.”
“All I want now is a bed…alone. You will give me that tonight, sir, if you please. That is, if you have a bed.”
Every part of him tightened with deep, dark excitement. “A heathery nest for a Highland thief.”
“No real bed, no hearth, no home—you are a true fugitive. A genuine brigand.”
“Fierce as wolves, I am. Now hush it.” He rather liked the sound of her voice, so lovely upon the night breeze. He had to admit he even liked her chatter. A little of it, at least.
“I will not stay in a filthy outlaw cave for long, I warn you. I am more content in a house, where I can putter about.”
“Putter as much as you like later. For now—shhh!” He reached out with his free hand to cover her mouth, not with haste and strength as before, but gently this time. So gently.
Touching her like that was a mistake. Her lips under his fingertips were moist, luscious, felt nearly as good as kissing her had felt.
Not yet, he told himself. Go easy, until he had puzzled out the situation and knew where he stood in it. He lifted his hand.
“You’re talking as much as I am,” she pointed out.
He cast her a quelling look.
She did not seem quelled. But then she sneezed delicately,
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