Possession of a Highlander Page 6

  • • •

  Colin found himself walking the same rich hall toward Brianna’s solar as he had before. Thick tapestries lined every wide expanse of stone, and sunlight poured in through countless windows. There was not a part of Edzell that was not lavishly decorated. He had noticed all of this. What man would not?

  But this time, it was not Edzell’s wealth that held his attention, but her mistress. She wore silk again today. The red gown hugged her slender waist and cradled her breasts in a sheen that made him want to glide his palms over the slick fabric. Her hips swayed with each step ahead of him, restrained enough to mark her as the noblewoman she was, but loose enough to announce her desires.

  He tightened his hands into fists to fight the overwhelming desire to grab hold of those sweet hips.

  Her head turned to the side, away from the windows, so her face was hidden from the light. But the cover of darkness did not prevent him from seeing her gaze slide toward him, nor did it conceal the way she tucked her lower lip into her mouth before she turned forward once more.

  She stopped before the solar door and unlocked it with a heavy iron key pulled from her sash. Her eyes caught his, and a shy smile spread over her lips before she entered the room. He stepped in behind her and let the door close softly, leaving them blessedly alone.

  Brianna turned toward him, a pink flush creeping across her bosom and blossoming in her cheeks and lips. God, she was beautiful.

  Her firm breasts rose and fell with her quickened breath. He was not the only one who wanted to resume what had been left off the previous night.

  She stood several steps away. Too far. He would see that issue remedied.

  “I wanted to apologize to ye,” he said.

  The small smile on her lips wavered. “Apologize?”

  He took a step closer, making the conversation more intimate. “Aye, for last night.”

  A slight crease appeared between her eyebrows. “You are apologizing for last night,” she repeated slowly. “Do you regret it?”

  “Only if it caused ye unease, my lady. I dinna want ye to feel I took advantage of ye as yer cousin had attempted.” He took another step closer. “It wasna my intention.”

  “You are nothing like Robert.” Brianna’s eyes flashed with conviction. “And you did not take advantage of me. If I remember correctly.” Her cheeks flushed further still to a deep red that matched her dress. “I kissed you.”

  Another step. One more and she would be staring up at him, her warmth close enough to feel. Her perfume close enough to tease.

  Colin’s pulse hammered. “Are ye apologizing for taking advantage of me?” he asked with a grin.

  “Should I?”

  “Ye could,” he said, closing the space between them with one final step. He traced the line of her jaw with his fingertip until he reached the delicate edge of her chin. Her head tipped back, her face turned up toward his, her eyes hooded.

  He stared down at her generous mouth and his blood roared through his veins. He had no doubt she’d taste as sweet now as she had last night. “Or I could kiss ye and relieve ye of yer guilt.”

  Her lips parted, and he knew she would not dissuade his affections.

  In fact, he was counting on it.

  Chapter Eleven

  Her solar hummed with an intimacy that tingled awareness through every part of Brianna’s body. Her senses danced with desire, and she greedily took it all in, savoring every sensation. The aroma of sun and grass from the open window, the way it mingled with Colin’s clean, masculine scent. The warmth of his body, so close to hers, the intensity of his gaze as he stared down at her, as though he truly did intend to kiss her.

  He lowered his head and paused. For one agonizing second, Brianna thought she might die of impatience or perhaps disappointment if he walked away.

  His mouth hovered over hers, as if he were relishing the moment as much as she. He kissed her top lip and then the bottom in sweet succession.

  His tongue swept across the seam of her mouth, unhurried and deliberate. One strong hand curled around her waist while the other slipped down her dress to cup her bottom. This time, she knew what to expect. This time, she readily leaned into him and arched toward the demanding press of his hardness.

  A groan tore from him, and his grip on her tightened. His tongue swept into her open mouth, mating against her own with stroke after heady stroke.

  Her fingers splayed across his powerful chest, greedy to sample what she had seen glistening in the sunlight. The chiseled lines of his muscular physique were evident beneath his leine, hard and solid beneath soft, yielding fabric.

  She wanted more. To touch more. To taste more. Her trembling hands continued her brazen exploration, taking her lower, tracing the rigid contours of his abdomen.

  He groaned, a strangled, hungry sound that sent excitement tingling through her, arousing, powerful, and encouraging. She wanted to caress him, all of him. Elicit the same reaction again and again.

  He caught both her hands in one of his. “That isna a good idea.”

  His gaze dipped to her bosom, and her lungs stopped bringing in air. She was his willing captive, subject to the mercy of his desires.

  The muscle in his jaw leapt and he released her hands. His fingers slid up the tight bodice of her gown, inch by slow, burning inch until he reached the squared neckline. He paused. A lifetime without breath or thought passed before his fingertips skimmed over the tops of her breasts.

  Her flesh prickled beneath his touch, blossoming from her bosom and spreading through her body in a wave of such pleasure, her eyes fell closed. His touch was not so light the second time. He closed his hand around her breast and his palm pressed hot against her hardened nipple beneath the layers of bodice and chemise and corset. Her breathless gasp muffled beneath the heat of his mouth.

  Colin buried his face against her neck, inhaled deeply against her sensitive skin, and exhaled on a groan. She rolled her hips against his muscled body without thought, seeking reprieve from the need that burned with an urgency she could not ignore.

  • • •

  The fine silk of Brianna’s gown was cool against Colin’s palms where he held her perfectly rounded bottom, encouraging the undulation of her hips. And those arousing little breathless whimpers she gave.

  His cock throbbed painfully beneath his kilt, desperate to lay claim to the woman he’d resolved to possess.

  He gave a low growl and captured her lips once more, his kiss fiercer than he’d intended. By Brianna’s breathless moan, she did not mind. Quite the opposite actually.

  “Please.” Brianna murmured against his lips.

  Her hands trailed that maddening path down his stomach again.

  “Please?” He drew a steadying breath. “What do ye want, lass?” He’d give her damn near anything right now. Hell, he would give her the moon if she asked for it.

  But it was not the moon she wanted.

  She pulled back and looked up at him, her eyes bright with desire, her lips pink and swollen from their kisses.

  “I know not what I want.” Her hurried words came between pants and kisses. “My body aches in a way that is unfamiliar. There is more to what we do.” Her body arched against him in innocent frustration.

  Sweat beaded his brow. He taught his men self control and now felt his own slipping. “There is much more to what we do,” he ground out. “But ye are a maiden.”

  “And I’ve never been sorrier for it.” Her fingers trailed across the top of his chest where his leine lay open, teasing the bare flesh with her feather-light touch.

  God, she was so innocent, so pure. And it was his affection she welcomed. The temptation to take what she suggested was almost more then he could bear. Her kisses trailed over his chin and down his neck until his skin sizzled beneath her plump, enticing lips.

  His cock was impossibly hard with the force of unslaked longing.

  Not yet though.

  He would not pluck her flower until their wedding night, whe
n Edzell became his land and Brianna became his wife. He ground his teeth against the pain of his desire.

  His lips nudged the delicate curve of her ear. “I can still give ye a sample of the pleasure ye crave.”

  Her low moan in response to his suggestion shot an arrow of lust straight to his tortured loins.

  “Ye’ll need to trust me, aye? I willna take yer maidenhead.”

  He felt her nod against his cheek and his mouth went dry. Soon, his fingers would be sliding up her thighs, seeking the source of her need, teasing the cries from her lips. His cock pounded in time with his erratic heartbeat. He needed this as much as she did.

  He gripped the light silk of her skirt and eased it upward. The fabric whispered to him in the silent room, begging to be swept from her body. Her hooded gaze followed his progress.

  The hem of her gown rose higher, exposing the sensual arc of her calf. He moved slowly. Not so much to keep from frightening her as to savor the alluring unveiling of her legs. He’d felt the curves of her waist, her hips, her breasts and suspected she would be beautiful beneath her skirts.

  He was right.

  She knew he openly admired her, he could see that in the flush of her cheeks, in the way her head ducked shyly to the side. But she did not stop him. Not when he revealed her delicate knees, nor did she look away when he stopped the ascent of the fabric at the top of her slender thighs.

  He lowered his head to hers and tugged her full lower lip into his mouth. He caressed the silky smooth skin on the inside of her thigh. Her sharp intake of breath passed between their mouths, fueling his desire.

  He slid his hand higher, toward the source of her need, and his cock strained against the rasp of his plaid. He pressed his lips to hers once more, a final branding kiss before pulling his face from hers. If he could not possess her, he would at least watch her expression as he brought her pleasure.

  His hand trailed up to the juncture between her legs until his fingertips brushed the downy hair of her sex.

  “Yes,” she moaned. Her thighs tightened. “Please.”

  He cupped her mound in his hand and slid his middle finger against her slick opening. She bit her lower lip, cutting off her husky cry.

  Colin felt the groan tear from his throat and focused on each subtle movement of his fingers. She was so wet. So ready. And if everything went as he intended, so willing.

  His fingertip eased inside of her, careful not to go too deep. Her eyes shone bright with yearning beneath hooded lids, and the swell of her breasts rose and fell with each hastened breath. His thumb stroked between her swollen folds and found her sensitive bud.

  Her eyes went wide, and her hips jerked against the heel of his hand.

  “There?” he teased.

  “Yes.” Her reply was little more than a gasp.

  He rolled the pad of his thumb against the tiny nub.

  “What are you doing?” she panted.

  “Pleasing ye.”

  Her cheeks were scarlet red now. “With your hand?” Her eyes glinted with fevered heat.

  Despite the torrent of desire throwing him into a world of barely hinged control, an amused smile tugged at his lips. “Stop thinking so much. Just feel, aye?”

  She nodded and her thighs relaxed around his hand. Her hips rocked in a fluid motion, matching the rhythm of his strokes. Gone was her tight-eyed expression borne of concentrated confusion. Her face was smooth, relaxed, her lips soft in sensual surrender.

  The gentle huff of her breath grew more rapid and her body stiffened. She was so damn close.

  Her hips ground hard against his hand, and her wet heat spasmed around his fingers again and again as the soft cries of her climax filled the room.

  Her gaze remained locked on his, letting him witness the beauty of her release and glimpse deep into the soul of everything she had ever longed for. Without ever having to possess her, he knew without a doubt, she belonged to him.

  He slid her skirts down and drew her toward him. His erection pulsed between them, painfully hard with need for release.

  She arched her body against him, and it was all he could to do keep from lifting her skirts once more and thrusting deep within her.

  “It was divine.” Her eyebrow raised with emphasis.

  God help him, he would have her where they stood if she goaded him any further—inadvertently or not.

  “If I dinna leave now, I dinna think I will be able to hold myself from ye, Brianna,” he whispered. His lips brushed the top of her silky head before he released her and stepped safely back.

  She leaned toward him. “I understand.” The glaze of desire in her eyes told him she understood and did not care.

  Unfortunately, he did.

  He mumbled an apology, something lacking in wit and completely unmemorable. Before she could reply, he turned and quit the room.

  • • •

  Brianna watched Colin’s broad back disappear out the door. Perhaps if her knees were not so unstable, she might have chased after him. She might have begged him to stay.

  As it was, remaining upright consumed her full energy. Her feet staggered beneath her weight, carrying her backward to the hard edge of her desk. She waited for her solar door to close before she sagged against the solid surface. Her core tightened in sensual reminder of what Colin’s fingers had wrought. Never had she known sensations could be so decadent. She closed her eyes and squeezed her thighs together. Another wave of pleasure rippled through her.

  She dropped her head back and drew a deep breath to clear her head.

  They could not keep doing this. Not when she already skirted danger with her terrible secret. Not when her uncle might show up any day.

  Her borrowed time was running out, and she had no plan.

  Chapter Twelve

  The garden sprawled on either side of Brianna, every plant growing exactly as it should, exactly where it should. Vibrant red, pink, and yellow blooms glowed in the sunlight, as if mocking the colors of its rise and fall, and marble statues and benches scattered the grounds in symmetry. Even the bushes outlining the garden in a wall of waxy green leaves were shaped to perfection.

  Brianna’s own life had once held such order.

  She shifted on the hot bench and ran her hand over the worn leather spine of The Gardner’s Labyrinth where it lay heavy in her lap. The book had been an incredible help once again. Every year she referred to the knowledge printed on the pages, and every year her efforts were rewarded with nature’s bounty.

  Her fingertip traced the smooth lettering on the cover, and she drifted back to a time when her own mother had cradled this same book while toiling in Edzell’s rich, black dirt.

  Had it been in a garden such as this where her mother met the French noble?

  A familiar ache clenched Brianna’s heart. She did not know the full story, but from the rumors she’d overheard, her mother and father had arrived in France not long after they were wed. It was there her mother met a French noble who shared her love of learning.

  An image of the earl rose forefront in her mind, his face purple with rage. “You have her mind, her curiosities. I refuse to allow you to end like her. I refuse to allow you to become a selfless whore.”

  A shadow fell over Brianna and pulled her from memories best left forgotten. Relief was quickly replaced with slithering disappointment.

  “Good day, Brianna.” Robert’s jagged smile leered down at her.

  He sat beside her without invitation, and his beady gaze darted to her waist. Did he fear she carried her dagger?

  A surge of power rushed through her. For all the fear he instilled in others, he was afraid. Of her.

  She bit her lips in an effort to temper her impending grin.

  His yellow gaze returned to her face. “I have been rude, cousin. My actions have been,” he held his hands out in a show of helplessness. “Deplorable.”

  Brianna remained perfectly still, unsure of what to make of his apology.

  His eyebrows knit together. He appe
ared to be serious.

  “I have hurt you.”

  There was a warmth to his eyes that had previously been absent. Was he truly serious?

  He smirked. “You don’t know what to make of this apology, do you? I suppose I wouldn’t either if our roles were reversed. I know I offended you, and I want to make amends.”

  His hand waved the air beside him, and a young servant emerged from the open doorway of the summer house, a silver goblet in each hand.

  “Allow me to present you with a gift.” Robert lifted the decadent cups from the servant and held one toward Brianna in offering.

  Her fingers curled around the cool stem. Deep red stones adorned the goblet and glinted like glowing fire in the sunlight. The sweet spice of wine rose to greet her from the silvered rim.

  “A beautiful goblet for my beautiful cousin, and the finest drink coin can buy.” He glanced down at his own chalice, and his lips drew in with an expression bordering on sheepish. “This is the only way I know to express my sincere apology.” His eyes turned toward her, eager, hopeful. “Please accept.”

  It was on the tip of Brianna’s tongue to refuse, to give in to the temptation to throw the proffered gift on the soft ground. Guilt twisted inside her, her wish to refuse warring with the instilled need to be polite.

  She and Robert had been playmates when they were young. They had laughed together and made up the same silly, childish games. That is, until he grew older and his tricks turned cruel.

  She stared into her own goblet of blood-red wine. Unfortunate though the truth may be, Robert and her uncle were her only remaining family. If Robert’s apology was indeed genuine, she should allow him the opportunity to make amends.

  Her fingertip grazed the smooth face of a precious gem. His attempt to woo her with gifts and kindness was markedly obvious, but she appreciated the effort.