Chapter 2 #2

nearby, awaiting her mistress’s orders.

“Fetch our guest some broth,” Lindsey

called.

“Aye, my lady.” The servant hurried from the

room.

Jamie lay quietly, his eyes closed, listening

to the occasional hiss and snap of the fire. It seemed to him, in

his pain-clouded mind, that the fire had spread to his body and had

centered on his shoulder and chest. What had this damnable female

done to him? She had taken hot coals and heaped them upon his body.

And in his weakened condition he had been unable to stop her.

He moaned softly. Alarmed, Lindsey perched on

the edge of the bed and touched a hand to his forehead. He burned

with fever. Wringing out a cloth, she began to sponge his forehead.

Within a few moments he became still.

Setting the damp cloth aside, she walked to

the foot of the bed and struggled until his boots had been removed.

Standing over him, she studied his soaked breeches. They would have

to come off, as well. Bending over him she reached a hand to the

hilt of the knife tucked into his waistband. Strong, work-worn

fingers instantly closed over her own. She was stunned to find

herself lifted off her feet and hauled roughly against a wall of

muscled chest. For a moment her breath was knocked from her lungs,

leaving her speechless.

“So. You would render me helpless, lass?”

“I...” She struggled to regain her breath. “I

merely intended to undress you.”

“Ah.” The pain in his eyes was replaced with

a hint of laughter. “Then by all means, I am your willing

servant.”

“You—tricked me. You led me to believe you

were too weak to move.”

“And you were going to take advantage of my

weakness, lass?”

“I thought to make you more comfortable.”

“And you have.” He drew her closer, enjoying

the flush that suddenly reddened her cheeks. “I am exceedingly more

comfortable than I was just moments ago.”

“You are despicable.” She pushed against him,

but he merely tightened his grip on her. She was amazed by the

strength in his hands.

He looked at the woman in his arms. Wisps of

hair tumbled wildly across one eye and cheek. Her bodice gaped

open, revealing the soft swell of her breasts. Her skirts were

twisted around her knees, revealing a fascinating view of shapely

legs.

It would seem that beneath the disheveled

appearance was a very soft, very womanly creature.

In his fevered state all Jamie’s pain was

forgotten, as was his reticence toward this female. In that moment

he could think of but one thing. He had to taste her lips.

Lindsey felt his gaze burn over her and

settle on her mouth. Color flooded her cheeks. She touched a tongue

to her dry lips and realized her mistake when she saw the way his

gaze followed the movement. A tiny shiver of alarm raced along her

spine. Fear? Aye. It must be fear. What else could she possibly

feel for a man who had frightened her, attacked her, used her to

get to her father and brothers?

Jamie’s fingers tightened on her arms,

drawing her inexorably closer. His look devoured her. And though he

cursed himself for every kind of a fool, he could not deny his

need.

“Nay.” Lindsey reached out a hand to stop

him. As she did, he caught her palm and lifted it to his mouth.

With his lips pressed to the soft flesh of

her palm, liquid heat pulsed through her veins, setting her limbs

on fire. The protest died on her lips. Never, never had she known

such wild, tumultuous feelings.

She lifted wide eyes to his and could read

his intentions. God in heaven. He was going to kiss her lips, as

well. She forgot to breathe. Her heart forgot to beat.

His mouth closed over hers. It was the merest

brush of lips to lips. His touch was firm, his kiss easy and

practiced.

Her lips trembled. Never before had she been

kissed like this. There had been lads in the village who had tried

to kiss her. A few had even succeeded. Always she had turned away

from hem, more annoyed than pleased. But this. This was no clumsy

youth, struggling with the first stirrings of manhood.

Lindsey experienced a rush of feelings like

nothing she had ever known. Her heart was beating so wildly she

thought it would surely explode. Her palms became moist. She kept

her hands firmly between her body and his, hoping to hold him at

arm’s length. But slowly, with a will of their own, her fingers

splayed across his naked chest, tingling as they came in contact

with his hair-roughened skin.

Jamie drew her closer, allowing his lips to

move seductively over hers. The jolt was sudden, shocking. This had

been a mistake. He knew it as soon as his lips touched hers, as

soon as the first wild spark raged through him. But there was no

way to stop it now. His body was suddenly alive, surging with need.

But his fevered mind was befuddled. He seemed robbed of his usual

discipline. He knew he had to stop this. From the way she kissed

him, he knew her to be an innocent maiden. She would be shocked and

disgusted by his hunger. By angering her and her family, he would

destroy everything he had worked for. But God in heaven, she was so

sweet. And though he knew he must end it, he could not. Not yet.

One moment more. One more brush of his lips to hers.

Lindsey’s hands curled around his arms,

holding on as if her very life depended on it. Ofttimes, lost in

sleep, she had dreamed of a knight who would carry her off to some

distant shore and make her his own. But always, when she awoke, she

felt ashamed of such foolish dreams and renewed her determination

that no man would ever claim her. Some inner demon had plagued her

from childhood, building a wall of fear around her heart. She knew,

if she let go, the spell would be broken and she would awake in her

own bed, awash in trembling feelings of guilt and fear.

She kept her eyes firmly closed as his lips

moved over hers. And though it was merely a kiss, she sensed the

passion, the fire, which he kept so carefully banked.

With his last desperate burst of

self-control, Jamie managed to surface and pull himself away.

Holding her at a distance, he watched the play of conflicting

emotions on her face and recognized astonishment, then fear, and

then growing disbelief that bordered on anger.

He lifted a hand and brushed an errant strand

of hair from her cheek. Eyes the shade of a Highland pool stared

deeply into his.

Color suffused Lindsey’s cheeks. This was not

a dream. The man beside her in the bed was real. And very much

alive. She was achingly aware of his arousal. Surely the wild

beating of his heart matched her own. She struggled to regain her

senses.

“I can see that you are quite strong enough

to undress yourself.” She pushed herself from his arms and

struggled to climb from the bed. She prayed her legs were strong

enough to hold her.

He lay quietly, enjoying the sight of her

wriggling efforts to smooth down her skirts. What a magnificent

body she hid beneath those petticoats. His mouth curved into a

roguish smile.

“It will not be nearly as pleasurable as

having you undress me, my lady.”

“It is as I first thought.” She turned to

face him. Her hands were shaking so badly, she brought them to her

hips to steady them. She hoped she gave the impression of righteous

indignation. “You are a villain masquerading as a Highland

gentleman.”

“Does this mean you will not help me

undress?”

“Oh!” As she flounced to the doorway, she

nearly collided with the servant who was just entering. “Leave the

broth on the bedside table, Moira,” she ordered. “My Lord MacDonald

is strong enough to feed himself.”

Jamie watched until she disappeared from

view. Then he lay very quietly, feeling the need for her still

throbbing within him. His hands, he noted, were not quite steady,

and his heart was beating far too rapidly. With a moan of

discomfort he rolled to his side and willed himself to bank his

desire and seek the rest he so desperately needed.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.