Read Online Seduced by Destiny by Kira Morgan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kira Morgan
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her, and she’d be damned if she could resist his temptation.
With a savage groan, the Highlander pressed her back against the stone wall, pinning her there with his mass, devouring her
with the desperation of a starving animal.
She should have been terrified. No one had ever taken such liberties with her, cornering her and kissing her with such blatant
possession.
At the very least, she should have been furious with the brute. Seduction was a low form of betrayal.
Instead, she felt wildly alive. Her heart raced, and heat unfurled in her body like a blossoming rose. She gasped against
his mouth, which was rough and foreign and male.They were not gasps of pain, but a curious breathlessness that kept her hungering for more.
The Highlander must have slipped some intoxicating poison into her beer, she decided, one that stole her willpower, dizzied
her senses, and made her throb in places no man had ever touched.
Worse, it made her respond in kind, clinging to him like ivy to a wall, slaking her feverish thirst upon his lips, moaning
as if he somehow tortured the sound out of her.
’Twas the clatter of her knife on the cobblestones, dropped from her slack fingers, that broke the enchantment. She gasped,
and they both drew back in horror.
Rattling his head as if to clear it of cobwebs, the Highlander bent to seize her dropped weapon.
Flustered, Josselin wiped the back of her mouth with a trembling hand. She tried to snap at him, but her voice came out in
a hoarse whisper. “I should skewer ye for that.”
He lifted a brow over one languid eye. “Probably.” Despite confiscating her knife, as he hunkered there before her, the Highlander
seemed as curiously vulnerable as she felt.
“Is that all ye have to say?” she demanded. Lord, his eyes smoldered like live coals. And his mouth looked absolutely … delicious.
He came slowly to his feet. “If ye think I’m goin’ to say I’m sorry,” he said, passing her the knife, hilt-first, “I’m not.”
She bit her lip. She wasn’t exactly sorry either. She’d never felt anything quite so thrilling. But ’twas very unchivalrous
of him not to accept the blame.
She sheathed her knife. “I was right,” she bit out. “Ye’renothin’ but a savage Highlander, swivin’ anythin’ that’ll stand still. I should have jabbed ye while I could. And I will if
ye follow me. Go on now. Go back to your sheep.”
She swept up her hat, jammed it back on her head, and turned on her heel. Then she stomped off in the direction of the inn
before Drew could see the confusing glow of arousal and humiliation coloring her skin.
He may not have followed her, but she felt his hot gaze tracing her all the way down the lane. She swore she wouldn’t look
back at him. And she didn’t. Until she arrived at the door of the inn.
The Highlander was standing just where she’d left him. But now he leaned with cocky arrogance against the wall, waving something
over his head like a taunt.
Suddenly, her heart seized and her eyes widened. She clapped a hand to her knife sheath. The note from Philipe!
She narrowed her eyes, steeling herself for the worst.
“Ye lose somethin’?” he called out.
She mouthed a silent oath.
Damn the rake! How had he…?
Transfixed by the incriminating scrap of paper grasped between his careless fingers, Josselin worried her lip. The Highlander
had no idea what he possessed or how important ’twas.
He continued to wave the note with maddening negligence. “I believe ye dropped this!” he yelled.
Josselin flinched. Did men have to bellow everything?
She glanced about for witnesses, then forcefully gestured for him to come to her.
“Oh, nae!” he shouted with a shake of his head. “I’ve no wish to be skewered! Don’t follow me, ye said. I don’t need to be
told twice!”
His voice attracted the attention of a man staying on the second floor of the inn, who leaned out from his window.
“Come
here
!” Josselin
With a savage groan, the Highlander pressed her back against the stone wall, pinning her there with his mass, devouring her
with the desperation of a starving animal.
She should have been terrified. No one had ever taken such liberties with her, cornering her and kissing her with such blatant
possession.
At the very least, she should have been furious with the brute. Seduction was a low form of betrayal.
Instead, she felt wildly alive. Her heart raced, and heat unfurled in her body like a blossoming rose. She gasped against
his mouth, which was rough and foreign and male.They were not gasps of pain, but a curious breathlessness that kept her hungering for more.
The Highlander must have slipped some intoxicating poison into her beer, she decided, one that stole her willpower, dizzied
her senses, and made her throb in places no man had ever touched.
Worse, it made her respond in kind, clinging to him like ivy to a wall, slaking her feverish thirst upon his lips, moaning
as if he somehow tortured the sound out of her.
’Twas the clatter of her knife on the cobblestones, dropped from her slack fingers, that broke the enchantment. She gasped,
and they both drew back in horror.
Rattling his head as if to clear it of cobwebs, the Highlander bent to seize her dropped weapon.
Flustered, Josselin wiped the back of her mouth with a trembling hand. She tried to snap at him, but her voice came out in
a hoarse whisper. “I should skewer ye for that.”
He lifted a brow over one languid eye. “Probably.” Despite confiscating her knife, as he hunkered there before her, the Highlander
seemed as curiously vulnerable as she felt.
“Is that all ye have to say?” she demanded. Lord, his eyes smoldered like live coals. And his mouth looked absolutely … delicious.
He came slowly to his feet. “If ye think I’m goin’ to say I’m sorry,” he said, passing her the knife, hilt-first, “I’m not.”
She bit her lip. She wasn’t exactly sorry either. She’d never felt anything quite so thrilling. But ’twas very unchivalrous
of him not to accept the blame.
She sheathed her knife. “I was right,” she bit out. “Ye’renothin’ but a savage Highlander, swivin’ anythin’ that’ll stand still. I should have jabbed ye while I could. And I will if
ye follow me. Go on now. Go back to your sheep.”
She swept up her hat, jammed it back on her head, and turned on her heel. Then she stomped off in the direction of the inn
before Drew could see the confusing glow of arousal and humiliation coloring her skin.
He may not have followed her, but she felt his hot gaze tracing her all the way down the lane. She swore she wouldn’t look
back at him. And she didn’t. Until she arrived at the door of the inn.
The Highlander was standing just where she’d left him. But now he leaned with cocky arrogance against the wall, waving something
over his head like a taunt.
Suddenly, her heart seized and her eyes widened. She clapped a hand to her knife sheath. The note from Philipe!
She narrowed her eyes, steeling herself for the worst.
“Ye lose somethin’?” he called out.
She mouthed a silent oath.
Damn the rake! How had he…?
Transfixed by the incriminating scrap of paper grasped between his careless fingers, Josselin worried her lip. The Highlander
had no idea what he possessed or how important ’twas.
He continued to wave the note with maddening negligence. “I believe ye dropped this!” he yelled.
Josselin flinched. Did men have to bellow everything?
She glanced about for witnesses, then forcefully gestured for him to come to her.
“Oh, nae!” he shouted with a shake of his head. “I’ve no wish to be skewered! Don’t follow me, ye said. I don’t need to be
told twice!”
His voice attracted the attention of a man staying on the second floor of the inn, who leaned out from his window.
“Come
here
!” Josselin
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