by Tarah Scott
Kenna faced the ladies. “Excuse me.”
“Where are you going?” Mrs. Stanton demanded as Kenna started across the room.
“To the ladies retiring room,” she said.
“Oh my, he’s headed this way,” another said.
Kenna quickened pace. She neared the hallway when a familiar male voice said, “What a pleasure to see you, Miss Ramsay.”
Kenna snapped her head up as Lord Wilshire stepped up beside her. “L-Lord Wilshire. What are you doing here?”
His brows rose. “You are not pleased to see me?” He placed a hand over his heart. “I am wounded.”
She ignored the blatant stares of a nearby group of women and halted. “I am sorry, but you must admit, it is strange that you are here.”
“I wouldn’t say strange,” he mused.
“I would. Why are you here?”
He released an exaggerated sigh. “Lady Chastity told me she and Stirling were attending the party. It was an easy deduction that you would be here, as well.” He shrugged. “So, I came, too.”
“Aye, but we are on Skye. That is a long trip just for a party. Are you certain you aren’t avoiding your brother?”
He laughed. “Miss Ramsay, as I have said before, you are a delight. I must admit, Graham was becoming something of a nuisance.”
Two passing women looked their way, knowing smiles on their faces.
“It seems you are quite the thing,” he said.
Kenna shot him a narrow-eyed glare.
He seemed not to notice—or more likely, simply ignored her frustration, and said, “You look none the worse for wear after your adventure with Hensley.”
A tremor rippled through her at the memory of her adventure with Lord Newhall. She shook her head. “He did not hurt me.”
“I am relieved to hear that. Would you care to take a turn with me in the garden?”
Kenna rolled her eyes. “You know I will not—especially now.”
“Why especially now?” he asked, unruffled.
“I am in no mood to fuel the gossipmongers’ fire,” she muttered.
“On the contrary, fueling the fire is your best course of action.” He leaned close and murmured, “If you are going to pay the price, you might as well enjoy yourself.”
“No walks in the garden,” she said with finality.
He shrugged. “You cannot blame a man for trying.”
“I can,” she said. “It is very annoying.”
“Permit me the opportunity to show you my better side.”
“By walking with you in the garden?”
“That is one way,” he replied.
Ladies’ giggles filtered through the din of voices. Who was staring at them now? Who wasn’t?
“I have to use the ladies retiring room,” she said. “I will return.”
Kenna hurried into the hallway leading to the ladies retiring room, but kept going to the small parlor she knew was located just beyond it. She managed to reach the room and enter without being seen. No fire burned in the hearth. Mrs. Balfour probably hadn’t expected anyone to leave the ballroom. She reached the balcony doors and opened them. Cool night air washed over her. She crossed the balcony and gazed up at the stars. What in God’s name was Lord Wilshire doing here?
She knew the answer before she’d finished the thought. He believed Lord Hensley and Lord Newhall were her lovers and decided he wanted to bed her, too. Worse, his presence at tonight’s party guaranteed her continued popularity. Whatever small hope she’d had for making a love match was gone.
Lord Newhall’s words that last night in Sir Stirling’s parlor returned.
“I want to marry you.”
Why had he said that, and why couldn’t she forget the words? Worse, the kiss they’d shared haunted her. She grasped the railing. She was a foolish woman who wanted to believe that a man like Lord Newhall—or Lord Newhall himself—might actually want to marry a woman like her. Not in her wildest fantasies had she imagined wanting to marry a man she’d known for less than two days. Not to mention, a man who was insane.
But still, the press of his lips on hers lingered.
The smell of him. The warmth of his hand on her breast.
The creak of the door yanked her back to the present. Good Lord, had Lord Wilshire followed her? She would cut off his bollocks if she had. Kenna whirled and started for the room.
“Lord Wilshire, if you care to keep your—” She stepped into the room and halted.
Lord Newhall walked toward her.
“You,” she breathed.
He stopped three paces away.
Her stomach flipped. How was he more handsome than she remembered? Oh, the wretch! He was trying to entice her by wearing a jacket that fit perfectly across his broad shoulders and a snow-white cravat that contrasted his tanned, muscled neck.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
He lifted a brow. “I believe I told you, I grew up on Skye.”
“In the north,” she said with emphasis. “You are here to try and convince me to marry you.”
“Perhaps,” he replied. “Perhaps not.”
She lifted her chin. “As you can see, I am doing well. I have invitations to many parties. My ruination has made me uncommonly desirable to local society.”
“Does that mean you have had other offers of marriage? From Lord Wilshire, perchance?”
“That is no concern of yours.”
He stepped closer, so close she was forced to tilt her head back to make eye contact. “You cannot seduce me into marrying you,” she whispered.
“Then I will have to settle for seducing you.”
“If that is all you want, why offer marriage?”
She started when he lifted a hand and rubbed a tendril of the hair curled at the side of her face. His eyes followed the slide of his fingers. Kenna resisted the urge to rub her cheek against the back of his hand.
“I want more than seduction,” he murmured. “But I will take anything you are willing to give.” His eyes shifted to her face. “Consent, and I will marry you this moment.”
“Good Lord, why?”
He released her hair. “Would you believe me if I said I loved you?”
Kenna rolled her eyes. “Please.”
“Then will the fact that I want you do?”
She laughed and hoped the sound didn’t sound as sad as she suddenly felt. “You are a rogue. You want many women.”
“True. But I like you.”
She blinked. “You do not like the other women you bedded?”
“Some, a little bit. But I like you better. Is it not wise to marry someone you at least like?”
She believed that love was the best reason to marry, but a man in his position didn’t always have that luxury. She supposed he might consider himself fortunate to like the lady he married.
She narrowed her eyes. “I have no desire to marry.”
His eyes darkened. “Then so be it.” He yanked her to him.
They collided, chest to breast. Kenna seized his shoulders.
“What are you doing?” She cursed the breathless note in her voice.
“You may have no desire to marry, but I know you do have desire.” He stared down at her. “I love Skye. I plan to spend a great deal of time here.”
Kenna willed her pounding heart to slow. “You do?”
He backed her against the wall and pressed his body against hers. His hard length dug into her abdomen. The room spun.
“I do,” he replied, then his mouth found hers.
Chapter Ten
Kenna had never experienced such need. The juncture between her legs ached with an intensity that bordered on discomfort. Even the moment they’d shared the last week paled in comparison to this. She hadn’t known such desire was possible. Was this feeling sane?
Lord Newhall slid a moist kiss along her cheek to her neck. She shivered. He laughed softly in her ear, then nibbled on her ear lobe. Gooseflesh raced along her arms. He pressed her into the wall. She wanted
more, wanted him to touch every part of her, needed the ache between her legs to stop.
Only he could fill the need.
His tongue slid along the outside of her ear. She couldn’t take this torture. He undulated his hip, rotating his hard length against her mons. She drew a sharp breath. How she wanted him to touch her hardened nipples. She’d never wanted that before. Kenna slid her arms up around his neck. He groaned and she cried out when he swung her into his arms.
In the next instant, she found herself on the couch. When he came down on top of her, it seemed as if he engulfed her—and she liked it. More than liked it, she needed him. His mouth covered hers, devouring her. Her body heated. The weight of him, of his hard length against her abdomen, made her dizzy. She understood well enough what passed between a man and woman, but she’d never conceived of the compulsion to join with a man. This was why women were ruined, and men found themselves shackled to a woman they didn’t truly care for.
This was desire, nothing more. Glorious, wonderful desire. Lord Wilshire was right. Everyone believed her guilty of taking a lover. Why not take one? Lord Newhall slid a kiss down over her chin, down her neck to the hallow of her throat.
“Oh my,” she breathed when his mouth made contact with the rise of her breast.
Her nipples puckered. Embarrassment flushed through her. He was sure to notice her reaction. He groaned. Then his mouth closed over a nipple through the fabric of her dress. A string of desire shot from her nipple to the throbbing place between her legs. Lord, what was this fresh temptation? She couldn’t think, only wanted more. Kenna arched into his mouth. He groaned again, the sound reverberating through her. Need tightened her most private place.
He began to rock against her, thrusting his erection along her belly. She didn’t understand why, but the feeling was strangely erotic. He released her nipple and Kenna cried out when he pulled down her sleeve and exposed the breast. What was she supposed to do? Before she could think further, warm lips closed around the nipple and suckled. Her sex tightened in pleasurable discomfort.
Kenna abruptly became aware of his palm on her leg. He inched her skirt upward. She’d often wondered what it would be like to have a man make love to her. Not in her wildest dreams had she known such riotous emotions existed. She couldn’t think. Didn’t want to think about anything except this man. He drew back and thrust his hard length against her mons.
She drew a sharp breath. His warm fingers stroked her outer thigh. Kenna speared her fingers into his thick, soft hair. He released her nipple and kissed her again. His lips moved on hers. When his tongue slipped between her lips and into her mouth, she sucked. He growled. Did she incite in him the same emotions he did her? She tugged his hair. He growled again. Aye, she did move him. She hadn’t expected that.
His hand flattened on her belly and she stiffened when his fingers grazed the curls between her legs. Her heart thundered. He wanted to touch here there? A long digit brushed over the sensitive place and pleasure splintered through her. She jerked.
“Do you like that?” he whispered against her mouth.
She did, but how did a lady admit such a thing?
His finger dipped between her innermost part and she froze when the finger slid inside her.
He broke the kiss and pressed his mouth close to her ear. “Easy, love. Relax.”
He began to thrust inside her. Kenna startled at the tickle of pleasure that rippled through her. Oh, he was evil. He nibbled her ear. She couldn’t decide whether or not to concentrate on the ear nibbling or the…other thing. He ringed her ear with his tongue. Shameful as it was, Kenna couldn’t stop from rocking against his hand. She couldn’t believe the glorious feeling. Pleasure—strong, intense—shot through her. She seized his shoulders and cried out. Spots raced across her vision.
He arched off of her and quickly loosened his falls, then pushed her dress up to her waist. Cool air washed over her stomach, then he lay between her legs, an inferno of heat. She was vaguely aware of the hard length laying on her mons before he reached between them and fitted himself to her opening. Before she could decide how she felt about the way he stretched her, he thrust, filling her.
She froze. She knew the male had to move when in this position, but he remained motionless. Was the mating process different with humans than with animals?
“Did I hurt you?” he asked.
“Nae,” she whispered. Why would he hurt her?
He pulled back, then thrust slowly into her. Kenna looked into his face, surprised at the way his face appeared to be chiseled in granite. He pulled back, then thrust again. A ripple of pleasure radiated from their joining. He began to thrust faster. He kissed her. This time, she sucked his tongue into her mouth.
He drove deeper. She wondered if he’d touched her soul, but knew he had in more ways than one. Kenna wrapped her arms around his back and lifted to meet his thrusts. She tangled her tongue with his. He groaned, then plunged into her one more time and froze for several seconds. Kenna realized he’d found pleasure just as she had, and a wonderful sense of contentment flooded her. If this is what happily married women never spoke of, she wanted more.
He pulled back and slowly slid in and out half a dozen times, then collapsed on top of her. His heart beat as wildly as hers. She could lay like this all night.
The door creaked. Kenna stiffened. Bryson’s head jerked up. He gave her a warning look, then pulled out of her and yanked her skirt down over her thighs. She glimpsed his male part, still protruding from his falls. He would never be able to right himself without the intruder knowing what he did.
He twisted and pressed against her in the instant before a head appeared above the back of the couch.
Christine Stanton.
Kenna’s heart stuttered.
“Good evening, ladies,” he said.
Ladies?
Mrs. Stanton’s eyes widened. “G-Good evening.”
“If you do not mind, Miss Ramsay and I would like a moment alone,” Lord Newhall said.
“I knew it,” Brenda cried.
Kenna buried her head in Lord Newhall’s coat.
“There, see, it is her!” Christine cried. “And her dress is—oh my, it’s a mess. And his—his breeches—”
Kenna couldn’t look.
Lord Newhall shifted. “Well, hello, Stirling. Good to see you.”
Sir Stirling? This was simply too much.
“Would you mind seeing these ladies out of the room?” Lord Newhall asked. “Lady Chastity. You are looking well.”
Kenna’s face heated. She couldn’t face Sir Stirling—and certainly not Lady Chastity. Oh, what would her aunt say?
“Mrs. Stanton, ladies, will you go with Lady Chastity, please?” Sir Stirling said.
“But he is with Miss Ramsay,” Brenda said. “And her clothes are askew.”
“His, too,” Christine said.
“Who else would he be with?” Sir Stirling asked. “They are to be married, you know.”
Kenna snapped open her eyes. Lord Newhall looked down at her, brows raised.
“You planned this,” she whispered.
“Not quite all this,” he said.
“He is sure to fight another duel,” Christine Stanton said.
“Good Lord, he will not be fighting a duel,” Kenna retorted.
“Quite right,” Sir Stirling said.
“Come along,” Lady Chastity said. “Leave Sir Stirling to deal with his handiwork.”
The girls giggled and tittered, but their voices died away, and Sir Stirling said, “Newhall, why don’t we step outside while Miss Ramsay puts herself to rights?”
Lord Newhall looked down at her.
“You can get off of me now, sir.”
“Sir? I think you can finally call me Bryson.”
Kenna shoved him. He didn’t budge, but looked up at Stirling. “I am in the mood for a midnight wedding.”
“That is likely best,” Stirling said.
“I will not marry you,” Kenna said
.
Lord Newhall looked down at her. “To say you are ruined is an understatement, Kenna. Do you despise me so that you cannot stomach the thought of marrying me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “I simply am not going to insist you marry me when I did this-this of my own accord.”
He drew in a deep breath and her heart skipped a beat at sight of his broad chest expanding. “You may not believe it, my dear, but I have fallen hopelessly in love with you, and I cannot live without you.”
“That-that is not possible,” she whispered. “No one falls in love in two days.”
“I never said I fell in love in two days,” he replied.
“But you just said—”
“That I am hopelessly in love with you, aye. But I fell in love with you the moment I saw you.”
Kenna rolled her eyes. “That is even more ridiculous.”
He nodded. “Falling in love at first sight is a Newhall tradition. Never worry, my sweet, I am not upset that it took you two days to fall in love with me.”
She stared.
He lifted a brow.
She said nothing.
“You have fallen in love with me?” he asked.
“I’m not certain it is safe to say yes.”
He waited.
“If I say no, do you plan on rescuing me again?” she asked.
He nodded vigorously. “Aye.”
She sighed. “Then I suppose I had better say yes. I feel certain I cannot survive another rescue.”
He grinned. Then kissed her again.
###
Other Flowers of Scotland romances
Maid of Inverness
Dreaming of a Gentleman
Other Marriage Maker Collections
The Original Marriage Maker Saga
Worth of a Lady
The Marriage Wager
A Lady by Chance
How to Catch an Heiress
Rules of Refinement
One Good Gentleman
Shameless
Redemption of a Marquess
A Marriage of Necessity
The Marriage Maker Goes Undercover
A Scoundrel in the Making
