Chapter Eight #2
Of course, she would never offer her body unless he had also won her heart.
“I wonder if he has a section on knitting books,” Miranda mused.
Bram laughed. “Seriously?”
“Yes, I assure you that I have quite a domestic heart. I love to embroider, as well. Oh, there’s a selection.” Unthinkingly, she took his hand and led him toward a nearby shelf.
It took her a moment of perusing the titles of these desired books to realize she was still holding his hand. When she finally glanced down, she released her light grip and blushed as she did so.
“Feels natural, doesn’t it?” he remarked, crossing his arms over his chest and easing a shoulder against the shelves as he watched her.
She ignored the question, as he expected she would. “Solway, can you reach that red leather-bound book up there for me?”
“Aye, at yer service.” He read the spine as he brought it down, chuckling over its yawn-inducing title. “Stitching with Wool. Gad, my heart is pounding with excitement,” he teased.
She playfully smacked his shoulder. “I’ll knit you a woolen vest for those cold Highland winters.”
“Ye would do that for me?” he asked with some surprise. Having met her in her warrior queen glory, it was hard to reconcile that side of her with the sweet, home-and-hearth-loving lass she claimed to be.
She nodded. “Gladly. It is nothing compared to the kindness you have shown me and Gwenys.”
“Och, seeing ye safely back to London is the least I could do after what Mongo did to ye. But my desire to protect ye, whether from brigands or from those miserable Lawsons, has nothing to do with duty and all to do with…”
He sighed, knowing he should probably keep his mouth shut because she was not ready to hear what he desired to tell her.
But he told her anyway. “I have strong feelings for ye, as ye well know.”
She did not look away from his gaze. “I know, or you would not be standing here while I perused a shelf full of the most boring books written since the dawn of time.”
He chuckled again, but shook his head. “I could stand here for hours with ye and never lose patience—just dinna be so cruel as to put me to the test.”
He glanced around to make certain Gwenys and the bookshop owner were still on the opposite end of the store. “Ye look beautiful, by the way.”
“You are looking quite nice yourself,” she remarked, surprising him.
“I’m going to kiss ye, Miranda.”
Her eyes widened and she turned to gaze around the shop. “Here? Now?”
He had meant later if they ever managed a private moment, but why not now? They were the only ones in the shop, and the owner was busy showing Gwenys those poetry books.
And Gwenys had purposely left them to themselves.
Miranda ought to have protested or become indignant upon his making the comment. He found it of particular significance that she did not.
Gad, he was thick when it came to understanding ladies. Had she wanted him to kiss her all along?
He drew her closer.
Her body was delightfully soft, and he inhaled her scent that was as fresh and lovely as a freshly baked apple pie, warm from the oven, and sprinkled with cinnamon and raisins.
Och, he was famished for her.
She glanced around again. “This really isn’t proper. How can—”
He kissed her.
It was a scorching kiss meant to burn into her heart and claim her as his own because there was no way he ever wanted to be without her.
He meant to conquer her, plunder those honey lips of hers, and also offer his surrender, because he wanted her to know that his heart was as much devoted to hers as he hoped, in time, hers would be to his.
The kiss was hot and devouring. So was his need for her.
Her lips were achingly sweet as she gave in and matched the press of her lips to his, except that she was gentler and responded with some hesitation, of course. It was obvious she had not been kissed in fifteen years.
Bollocks.
He should have thought of this before ravishing her behind a bookshelf. Did she not deserve better?
But it was done, and she was kissing him back, so he put every ounce of himself into this first one between them, kissing her deeply and thoroughly, tasting the hints of honey and lemon she had put into her tea this morning, as he took possession of her, body and soul.
Since it would not do to have them caught with his hands all over her and his mouth suckling a searing trail along her neck, he drew away with the greatest reluctance.
“Well, that was a bit more than I had planned,” he said, not really feeling sorry at all as he regained control of himself.
He loosened his hold so that his hands were merely resting on her hips to ensure she was holding steady on her feet.
“Yes, rather a surprise,” she said, her eyes still closed and her splendid lips rosy pink and parted.
She was tilting toward him. A good sign, he supposed.
Alas, this splendid moment had been all too brief. Kissing her again was out of the question. He was on the brink and might not stop with just a kiss, because her willingness had caught him off guard. Despite his aching desire for her, he wasn’t going to seduce her in the middle of a bookshop.
“Miranda, are ye all right?”
She ought to have been angry. Yet he knew she wasn’t, for she was showing all the signs of pleasure. Her hands were fisted on the lapels of his jacket and her lovely body remained leaning toward him. Och, she felt exquisite while lightly pressed against him.
“Miranda?”
Her eyes fluttered open and she stared up at him looking confused.
No doubt, she had never done anything like this before. Perhaps she was wondering whether anyone could genuinely like her, for this was the damage her weasel of a husband had done to her heart, and Bram was not certain he could repair the broken pieces.
He would try with all his might, however.
“Why did you kiss me like that?”
Bram arched an eyebrow. “How else was I supposed to kiss ye?” Then he realized he might have bruised her lips, for the kiss had not been tame. Each of them had poured too much of their feelings into that one kiss. “Was I too rough on ye?”
She laughed. “No, you needn’t worry that you were.”
But she put a hand to her lips, which had the plump, soft look of having been avidly kissed.
He groaned. “I was too rough.”
“Honestly, Solway, stop talking. It was a wonderful kiss,” she whispered. “Full of desire and completely inappropriate, just as it ought to have been.”
He smiled, feeling foolishly proud of himself.
Gad. The way his heart was beating, one would think he’d never kissed a lass before.
Miranda eased away from him when the bell above the shop’s doorway tinkled to announce more patrons had walked in. However, she nibbled her lip, obviously wishing to say something more.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I am just trying to understand exactly what just happened between us. Please be honest with me.”
“I will, lass. I give ye my word.”
She nodded and released a soft breath. “It felt as though you put so much of your heart into our kiss. Or is it just that you know how to kiss a lady and make her feel special?”
“I have no idea how my kisses are received by others. In truth, I never gave it any consideration other than to do a respectable job for my own pride. Nor did I ever bother to ask about how my kisses were received afterward, because none of those ladies were ever going to be honest with me. Nor did they matter to me. But it is different with ye, Miranda. I know I’ll always get the truth from ye.
Perhaps this is why I wanted to put myself forward for ye.
Aye, my entire heart was in our kiss because I care so much for ye. ”
He gave her cheek a light caress. “I think ye care for me, too. Dinna bother to deny it, for ye are terrible at hiding yer feelings. Look, ye’ve taken my hand again.”
“Oh, I…” She stared down at their clasped hands and then hastily slipped hers out of his grasp. “How did you know I wanted your kiss?”
“I hoped ye did. Then ye left me a few clues.”
She frowned lightly. “Such as?”
“Simple, lass. Ye did no’ dissuade me when I told ye I would kiss ye.
All ye had to do was tell me that ye did no’ want me to do it.
It would have left me frustrated, but I would have respected yer wishes and let the matter drop.
Instead, ye glanced around worried what others might think if they saw us. ”
Her eyes shone like emeralds as they widened. “I’m sure that isn’t true.”
“Fine, go ahead and deny it to yerself. But I give ye fair warning, I am going to kiss ye again and do it proper next time. And by proper I do no’ mean polite.
I’m going to kiss ye long and hard. A hot, ravishing kiss.
Ye’re going to know ye’ve been claimed by me.
Our kiss is going to be naughty and ye’re going to feel the heat of it in some very improper places—I’d tell ye exactly where on yer body, but ye’d slap me. What do ye say to that?”
She tipped her chin into the air and pinched her luscious lips to a razor thinness.
And kept them pinched for what felt like an eternity. Was she going to slap him?
She cleared her throat. “All right.”
Sweet manna from heaven. Had she just agreed?
He stared at her a long moment, uncertain whether he’d understood her correctly. “All right, ye’ll kiss me?”
“Solway, you are such a dolt.”
He nodded. “I know. Heaven help me, I know.”
Her chin was still raised in challenge as the serious look on her face melted into a smile. “When am I to get my naughty kiss?”