Read Online The Warrior Laird by Margo Maguire - Free Book Online Page A

’twould not be nearly enough to satisfy his burgeoning arousal.
    She shivered and closed her eyes. “As lovely? As much trouble, you must mean.”
    â€œAre you trouble, Lady Maura?” he asked quietly, tipping his head down toward hers. Aye, she was more enticing than any lass in Braemore Glen—and as unsuitable for him as any lowlander would ever be.
    He felt her throat constrict beneath his hand. She was so delicate, he wanted her as he’d wanted no other. She made all his protective instincts come to the fore.
    â€œAye. Trouble to all who know me.” He heard her tremulous sigh and knew there was a world of turmoil lurking within her breast.
    Dugan had an urge to discover exactly how much trouble she could bring him. And he intended to start with a kiss. He leaned down and touched his mouth to hers. He felt her sharp intake of breath, but then she softened and her body drifted toward his.
    Dugan gathered her close, fitting her wondrous curves against him. He sensed her inexperience, but deepened the kiss anyway, as raw desire shot through him.
    Some part of him knew there could be naught but a kiss between them, but Dugan could not keep from drawing her tightly against him and ravishing her mouth with his lips, tongue, and teeth. She tasted of sweet highland water and smelled like heather.
    He was lost. The desire to do more than just steal the most incredible kiss of his life nearly overpowered him. With a low growl, Dugan continued to plunder her mouth while he fought a savage instinct to carry her away to some private bower and gratify the primitive needs she roused in him.
    He slid one hand down to her waist, and she slipped her fingers into the hair at his nape, loosening his queue. He let his hand drop lower, pulling her hips against his, making her quite sure of her effect on him.
    She pressed back against him, fitting his hard length to her body in just the right place. Dugan felt glorious and powerful, all at once.
    He had to be insane.
    He could not do this, not with a highborn lady who was under the protection of a Sassenach guard. Rational sense slammed into him and he broke away, ending the kiss.
    She made a small sound he thought must be dismay, but for what, Dugan was not sure. Dismay that the kiss was finished? Dismay that she’d allowed it? The latter, of course. A minor flirtation in the taproom was not an invitation for ravishment.
    â€œLady Maura—”
    â€œ ’Twas my fault, Dugan MacMillan,” she said with a tinge of anger in her voice, “so please do not apologize.” Besides her anger, she sounded as frustrated as Dugan felt. Lowering her hands from his shoulders, she looked at him with confusion in her eyes. Or perhaps ’twas mistrust.
    â€œMaura.” He took hold of both her arms before she could run from him, and held her so that she had no choice but to look up into his eyes. He wanted her still. But he knew better, and he tamped down the arousal that continued to rage within him. “I should not have taken advantage.”
    â€œLaird Mac—”
    â€œYou are a beautiful lady who deserves a man of means who will take you to wife. Not a rogue who lost his head for a moment here in the moonlight. And so I do apologize, though I will ever regret the experience.”
    M aura closed the door behind her and leaned back against it, the sound of her heartbeats pulsing in her ears. Her little foray down the steps and outside had been for the purpose of seeing if anyone was about, to determine whether it was safe for her to leave yet.
    She hadn’t thought she would see the highland laird again. Or let him kiss her breathless.
    Her body tingled, still. The yearning for more of MacMillan’s touch, more of his masculine power persisted.
    The interlude had done more than take her breath away. It had shown her what else had been absent in all the men Lady Ilay had brought ’round—raw male potency. Dugan