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Authors: Emma Wildes
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prisoner, and a woman at that?
“It wasn’t calculated deceit; it was simply omission,” he said, and was stunned to hear the defensive edge creep into his voice.
“Had you already decided you were not going to return me when I offered myself to you like a common harlot?” She put her hands on her slim hips and there was a flush on her smooth cheeks.
He never lied. It didn’t occur to him to do so usually, but it did now. Yet honesty won the day, and he admitted, “Yes, and there is nothing common about you, Leanna; nor are you a harlot.”
The compliment did not win him her favor. “I have seen the way women look at you, my lord, even the serving girls. You can vent your lust on someone else easily enough.”
“I have seen the way other men look at you , especially my young cousin,” he countered irritably, “and I want you only.”
A startling sentiment, especially when uttered aloud.
But all too true. He wasn’t sure which one of them was more surprised. A telling pause ensued in which they just looked at each other.
“What will happen to me if you do indeed kill Frankton?” she asked quietly, finally breaking the silence.
“Whatever you wish,” Ian told her, torn between the urge to tell her he would never let her go, and the wisdom of vowing such a thing to a woman he’d known less than two weeks. He was deeply sexually infatuated with this beautiful girl, to an extent that had never happened to him in his thirty years—but how could he know it would last? Besides, she was English, and he was laird. Wedding a Scottish lass was something he always assumed he would do eventually.
“I don’t know if I wish to go back to my father,” she said, her slender throat rippling as she swallowed, the glow of the lamp turning her hair the color of molten gold. “He sacrificed me once already, and though I will always love him, my trust in him has been shattered. While I was willing to do my duty to help my family, he must have known more about Frankton than he revealed to me. I feel I was betrayed. I have an aunt who lives in Wales. Perhaps I could go there.”
“It’s too far away,” Ian objected without thinking.
“All you have to do, Ian, is take me back to England. You owe me that much. But don’t worry; I do not expect you to escort me farther. I will work out the rest myself.”
Despite the scandal of her abduction and her lost virginity, Leanna would have no trouble finding a husband; of that he had little doubt. Her beauty was incomparable, and she was a lady in every sense of the word. Couple that with her innate sensuality, and a man would be a fool not to want her.
If she carried his child, which was a definite possibility after the past days and nights of sexual excess in his bed, he would not let her go; that he knew. Whether he could let her go at all was the question.
“I take it,” he asked quietly, “you wish to sleep alone? I will accept it, since I have never forced myself on you or any other woman, but what of our bargain? I upheld my part, my lady. You asked me to take you and I did so, trying to give as much pleasure as I received. You captivate me, lass, and I want you and will continue to want you as long as you are here.”
“I want you too,” she confessed with her typical honesty, “but it was so easy to excuse my wanton behavior when I felt I was spitefully foiling the baron.”
I want you too. . . .
A tightness inside him eased.
“You are not wanton, but passionate, and I personally prefer the idea that you lie with me because you wish it, not because of Frankton,” Ian said persuasively. “Come to me, Leanna, and keep him out of our bed.”
Encouraged when she did not refuse, Ian crossed the room and lifted her gently into his arms. He kissed her soft mouth, then looked into her eyes and said with perfect truth, “I am as confused as you are over what lies ahead. Perhaps it would be best if we simply enjoyed what time we have together before he
“It wasn’t calculated deceit; it was simply omission,” he said, and was stunned to hear the defensive edge creep into his voice.
“Had you already decided you were not going to return me when I offered myself to you like a common harlot?” She put her hands on her slim hips and there was a flush on her smooth cheeks.
He never lied. It didn’t occur to him to do so usually, but it did now. Yet honesty won the day, and he admitted, “Yes, and there is nothing common about you, Leanna; nor are you a harlot.”
The compliment did not win him her favor. “I have seen the way women look at you, my lord, even the serving girls. You can vent your lust on someone else easily enough.”
“I have seen the way other men look at you , especially my young cousin,” he countered irritably, “and I want you only.”
A startling sentiment, especially when uttered aloud.
But all too true. He wasn’t sure which one of them was more surprised. A telling pause ensued in which they just looked at each other.
“What will happen to me if you do indeed kill Frankton?” she asked quietly, finally breaking the silence.
“Whatever you wish,” Ian told her, torn between the urge to tell her he would never let her go, and the wisdom of vowing such a thing to a woman he’d known less than two weeks. He was deeply sexually infatuated with this beautiful girl, to an extent that had never happened to him in his thirty years—but how could he know it would last? Besides, she was English, and he was laird. Wedding a Scottish lass was something he always assumed he would do eventually.
“I don’t know if I wish to go back to my father,” she said, her slender throat rippling as she swallowed, the glow of the lamp turning her hair the color of molten gold. “He sacrificed me once already, and though I will always love him, my trust in him has been shattered. While I was willing to do my duty to help my family, he must have known more about Frankton than he revealed to me. I feel I was betrayed. I have an aunt who lives in Wales. Perhaps I could go there.”
“It’s too far away,” Ian objected without thinking.
“All you have to do, Ian, is take me back to England. You owe me that much. But don’t worry; I do not expect you to escort me farther. I will work out the rest myself.”
Despite the scandal of her abduction and her lost virginity, Leanna would have no trouble finding a husband; of that he had little doubt. Her beauty was incomparable, and she was a lady in every sense of the word. Couple that with her innate sensuality, and a man would be a fool not to want her.
If she carried his child, which was a definite possibility after the past days and nights of sexual excess in his bed, he would not let her go; that he knew. Whether he could let her go at all was the question.
“I take it,” he asked quietly, “you wish to sleep alone? I will accept it, since I have never forced myself on you or any other woman, but what of our bargain? I upheld my part, my lady. You asked me to take you and I did so, trying to give as much pleasure as I received. You captivate me, lass, and I want you and will continue to want you as long as you are here.”
“I want you too,” she confessed with her typical honesty, “but it was so easy to excuse my wanton behavior when I felt I was spitefully foiling the baron.”
I want you too. . . .
A tightness inside him eased.
“You are not wanton, but passionate, and I personally prefer the idea that you lie with me because you wish it, not because of Frankton,” Ian said persuasively. “Come to me, Leanna, and keep him out of our bed.”
Encouraged when she did not refuse, Ian crossed the room and lifted her gently into his arms. He kissed her soft mouth, then looked into her eyes and said with perfect truth, “I am as confused as you are over what lies ahead. Perhaps it would be best if we simply enjoyed what time we have together before he
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