by Donna Grant
“Interesting.”
“She’s a mie.”
Jason laughed. “Brilliant. Bring her to me. No’ only will we learn what was in the chamber she opened, but we can learn more about MacCarrick. And then, of course, we’ll convert her to drough.”
“MacCarrick got to her first. I doona know if she’ll break so easily.”
“Oh, she’ll break, Dale. Leave that to me. Just get me the Druid. Oh, and I’ve got a surprise coming for you.”
The call ended, and Dale put the phone away as he hurried out of the hotel. He didn’t know what Jason’s surprise was, but he hoped it was something to fight MacCarrick with.
Dale had a surprise of his own. Jason would be thrilled when he arrived with none other than Saffron.
* * *
Ronnie paced her room. She kicked off her shoes, but she’d done nothing else. Tonight had been like a dream. Arran had been the most handsome man there, and he’d never left her side. He was attentive, considerate, and listened raptly to anything she said.
In all, he was magnificently perfect.
She’d never known a man such as Arran existed, and now that she’d found him, she wondered if she could ever let him go. For the first time in her life, she’d felt like the princess she’d pretended to be as a young girl.
He’d danced with her again and again, his hold steady and secure. He’d made her smile and laugh, and if it was possible, she wanted him more than she had the day before.
There were so many sides of Arran. She’d seen his protective side tonight when he kept the men away from her. Some women might not like that, but she did.
She was able to enjoy herself like never before. She was able to talk about her digs, and all she had done as well as what she had planned next without worry of the men coming on to her.
For the first time since she’d been doing the events, she’d been at ease. It must have showed, too, because she’d raised more money than ever before.
What had kept Arran and Camdyn below? Saffron assured her everything would be all right, but Ronnie wasn’t so certain. The muscles in Arran’s arm had tightened beneath her hand a second before he’d stopped them.
He’d been on alert, every one of his senses trained on someone or something. It must not have been too dangerous or he wouldn’t have let her out of his sight.
Ronnie smiled. Funny that she liked how protective he was. She’d been on her own for so long, she hadn’t realized what she was missing. Until Arran.
There was no doubt he could get carried away with it, but she might like that just as much as the rest.
She sat on the bench in front of the bed and began to let her mind wander through the amazing night. It had been so easy being in his arms, as if they were meant to be.
The sound of the suite door opening and closing filtered through her bedroom door. Excitement ran through her as she opened her eyes and smiled. She rose and pressed her ear against her door as she tried to listen to what Arran was doing.
She could stay in her room and never take the next step. Never know if making love to him would be as glorious as she thought it could be. She’d never know how his hands felt on her body or the feel of his muscles beneath her hands.
It had made her dizzy with longing. There was even an instant when she’d thought he might kiss her in front of everyone.
And how she wished he would have.
She licked her lips and reached for the handle. Quietly she opened the door and saw Arran standing in the dark of the living room.
He had the glass doors to the balcony open, one hand leaning against the doorframe. The sheer curtains on either side of the door lifted in the evening breeze.
Arran had removed his jacket, bow tie, sporran, and belt. They were placed neatly on the table next to the couch. He stood against the outline of the night as if he belonged, as if he was something out of a Highland legend come to life.
Slowly, he turned his head and spotted her. Half his face was cast in shadows, but the lights from outside allowed her to see his crooked grin.
“Everything all right?” she asked.
“Aye. You?”
She walked toward him, her fingers grazing the back of one couch. He had known her indecision and had given her time. His voice said what his words wouldn’t—that she would have to come to him.
“I’d say that was definitely a yes.”
“So you had a good night?”
She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry as she thought of the way he’d held her—firmly, confidently—as they danced. “I had a fabulous night, as you well know. Thank you.”
He turned to face her, and she saw he’d unbuttoned his shirt to expose a section of his tanned throat. He also held a glass in his other hand. She walked around the end table and then closed the distance between them.
Now that she was standing just a foot away from him in front of the open doors, the cool night breeze made her shiver. Until she looked into Arran’s golden eyes.
“There’s no need to thank me. I have to admit I had a good time as well,” he said.
“You didn’t think you would?”
He shrugged. “Nay, no’ really. The women at MacLeod Castle taught me to dance. Well, me and the others who had traveled through time. I didna want to learn. Now, I’m verra glad I did.”
“Me, too. I don’t normally dance. Wait. Did you just say ‘time-traveled’?”
He grinned. “Aye. I’ve been in this time just over a year. When Deirdre was pulled forward in time, the Druids helped a few of us do the same to track her.”
“So many stories I want to hear. You lead an adventurous life.”
“A dangerous one,” he cautioned.
She leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. “Are you trying to frighten me off?”
“On the contrary, lass. I verra much want you in my life.”
Her stomach jumped into her throat at his words, said in the deep husky brogue. “Do you?”
“Do you pretend no’ to know what I want?”
Gone was any fear she had of what would happen with her and Arran. She’d asked for honesty, and that’s what he was giving her. It was only fair that she give the same. “I know. I was afraid before.”
“No’ now?”
She shook her head and grinned. “Not now. Not anymore.”
He lifted the short glass to his lips and sipped the amber liquid. “It’s scotch whisky. This is from my favorite distillery, Dreagan. They’ve been around the longest here in Scotland, and make the smoothest whisky you’ll ever drink.”
“I haven’t drunk whisky before.”
“Would you like a taste?”
“Yes, I believe I would.”
He was turning to the small table filled with liquor. And then, before Ronnie lost her nerve, she took the step separating them and kissed him.
Instantly his arm came around her, holding her securely against his firm body. His arm was like a band of steel, his hand splayed on her back. Ronnie forgot to breathe as she found herself plastered against the rock-hard chest she’d spent days gazing at and hours dreaming about.
His lips parted and his tongue swept into her mouth. The taste of the whisky was on his tongue, and only added to the heart-stopping kiss. He groaned and bent her over his arm. Just as before, Ronnie felt the world fading away. She was floating, gliding.
Soaring.
Dimly she heard a soft clink of glass on wood, and then Arran’s other arm closed about her. He turned his head and deepened the kiss.
She might have initiated the kiss, but Arran had quickly taken over. No one had ever kissed her as he did. He wasn’t just skilled—he knew exactly what to do to fan the flames of desire until they were spiraling out of control.
His large callused hand was warm as he spread his fingers over her bare lower back. One of his fingers dipped into the edge of her gown where it dropped into a vee just millimeters above her bottom cheeks.
“I love this gown on you,” he said between
kisses.
Ronnie dropped her head back as his mouth moved down to her neck. “I’ve never been this daring.”
His head lifted so that he could look at her. “In the design of the gown or our kiss?”
“Both,” she answered.
His smile was slow and seductive. “Just what I wanted to hear. I’ve hungered for you since our first kiss.”
She clung to his shoulders, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to get her body under control. But then again, nothing was under control for her when Arran was around.
It was as if he knocked her off center, spun her inner compass in circles. The only thing that kept her upright and focused was him.
“I’m not going to stop you,” she said when she realized he was giving her yet another out. “I want this. I want you.”
His mouth took hers in a fierce, demanding kiss. It stole her breath, robbed her soul. And she was glad to give it. She’d give everything of herself because of who he was—the man who had wooed her, enticed her.
Seduced her.
She plunged her hands into his long, dark locks. His hair was cool and soft to the touch, and when she scraped her nails softly along his neck, he groaned deep in his chest.
It took her a moment to comprehend he had been backing her up while they kissed, steering her toward his room. Ronnie’s heart was pounding with excitement and desire.
She didn’t loosen her hold even when the back of her legs bumped against the bed. Arran lifted his head and locked eyes with hers.
His golden gaze smoldered with need. The sight made her stomach flip and her blood burn as it rushed through her body. She trembled, not from the cool air, but because she wanted him so desperately.
He sank his hands into her hair on either side of her head and slowly pulled them out, letting the strands fall between his fingers.
“You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he said. “Your hair is glorious.”
“It gets in the way when I’m working.”
He twirled a strand around his fingers. “Aye, but hair like this should be down, tempting me almost as much as your lips.”
“My lips?” she repeated in surprise. What could be tempting about her lips?
“Oh, aye, your lips.” He dropped her hair and ran the pad of his thumb along her lower lip. “Your lips tease me with smiles, scold me with that sharp tongue, and arouse me with their sweet taste. Your lips, dear Ronnie, are a temptation I can no’ ignore.”
“Then don’t.”
With one hand spread on her back, he leaned forward until she was falling back on the bed. His other hand caught them before she could hit, and he slowly lowered her to the mattress.
“It’s no’ just your lips that stir me,” he whispered in that deep voice that made her quiver, his mouth hovering over hers.
“What else?”
Was her voice really that breathless, that soft? She shouldn’t have been surprised. Arran produced all kinds of strange and exhilarating feelings in her. She wanted more. She wanted it to never end.
Which was impossible, since she was mortal and he immortal.
He kissed a spot where her ear met her jaw. “Have you no’ guessed?”
“No.” She was having trouble concentrating with his big body covering hers and his arousal pressed against her stomach.
“All of you, sweet lass. All of you.”
His words, their truth and simplicity, made her want to cry. “Where have you been all my life?”
“I think I’ve been trying to find you,” he whispered.
The words shattered whatever small hold she’d had on her heart to guard against him. With eight words he had taken her heart, and he didn’t even know it.
This time when he kissed her, it was slow, rousing. She felt all his need, his yearning. His hunger.
And it matched her own.
He took her arms and moved them up over her head. His wonderful hands caressed her arms until he laced his fingers with hers, never breaking the arousing, soul-stirring kiss.
Ronnie loved the feel of him atop her. She ran her foot along his bare calf, just now realizing he’d taken off his socks and shoes.
She gasped when he rocked his hips against hers. Her sex clenched in response. It had been so long for her, the need filling her, his kisses stimulating her.
Suddenly, he straddled her and rose up on his knees to jerk off his shirt. Ronnie smiled as she ran her hands from his narrow waist to the rippled sinew of his abdomen and then his muscular chest.
She’d wanted to do that from the first time she saw him shirtless. So many times she’d looked at those muscles, had felt them against her. But now, they were hers to touch, if only for the night.
He grabbed her arm and pulled her up so that he could kiss her. But Ronnie wasn’t done touching him yet. She shoved against his shoulder until he fell sideways onto his back.
She lay atop him, and he drew up her gown so that it was her turn to straddle him. “I thought men with muscles like yours were just dumb brutes.”
“We are,” he said with a grin.
“No, you’re so much more,” she said as she leaned down and kissed his chest.
He cupped her face on either side and took her mouth in a savage, hungry kiss. Her nipples pebbled against her gown as they rubbed his chest. Her breasts felt swollen, full.
Ronnie clung to him as he sat up and scooted to the end of the bed, where he stood up and turned. Then tenderly set her down on the bed. He ended the kiss so he could kneel in front of her.
She shivered at the possessive, hungry look in his eyes because no man had ever gazed at her with such need. No man had ever looked at her as if she were the center of his world.
Until Arran.
Gently he hooked his thumb in the sheer material at her shoulders and tugged it down one arm before repeating the process on her other. Soon she was free of the gown from the waist up.
“My God,” he murmured.
Ronnie’s eyes rolled back in her head when he cupped her breasts and ran both thumbs over her aching nipples. Heat and desire ran straight through her body to pool between her legs.
And the night was just beginning.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
Arran couldn’t look his fill of Ronnie, couldn’t touch her enough. Her skin was warm and smooth as down. The soft sighs coming from her swollen lips only made him yearn for her more.
He massaged her breasts and watched her pale pink nipples harden. Already he had pushed himself to the limit by holding back with her, he wasn’t sure how much longer that control would continue.
Her head rolled to the side, granting him access to her slender neck. Arran wasted no time in kissing along the column of her throat.
With a flick of his hand, he shed his kilt. He rose to his feet and leaned over Ronnie so that she was lying back on the bed.
“I want to see you,” she whispered.
“We have all night. Right now, you’re mine.”
Arran slid his hand beneath her back as he straddled her. Then he gave a tug and scooted her up, and just as he’d hoped, her gown slid off her legs.
He let his gaze run down her body and spied the little strap of lace between her legs.
“I think, lass, you have too many clothes on.”
She smiled, her eyes heavy-lidded and her lips swollen. “Don’t you like my thong?”
“Thong?” he repeated slowly before turning her onto her side so he could see the strap of material disappear between the globes of her ass. His cock jumped at the sight.
“I take it you like it?” she asked with a knowing smile.
“Is that what you normally wear?”
“Yes.” She rolled onto her back and watched him.
He tried to swallow. He’d never be able to look at her again without knowing about the thong. Which was her intention.
“How much do you like this … thong?” he asked.
She ran a hand down his ch
est, stopping just short of touching his hard, aching rod. “They’re just panties”
“Good.”
He held out a hand and let one white claw extend from his finger. She gasped, but there was no fear in her hazel eyes. Her gaze never wavered as she followed his hand down to her hip, where Arran slid the long claw beneath the material and sliced. With barely a pause, he repeated it on the other hip and watched the thong fall away.
Her hand was suddenly over his while one of her fingers ran along the top edge of his claw.
“Careful,” he cautioned. His claws were sharp, and he didn’t want to cut her.
Her eyes met his with determination and need, and what little restraint Arran had snapped. He kissed her hard and fast, his desire riding him relentlessly. Tenaciously.
Ruthlessly.
He held himself up by one elbow while his other hand ran down her body. Arran had gotten a look at her lithe form in the gold gown, but it was nothing like touching her.
He caressed down her side to the hollow of her waist, and then over the soft swell of her hips down to her toned legs.
Those gorgeous legs parted so that she was open to him, the pale gold curls hiding her sex from him. He cupped her, a growl sounding deep in his throat when he found her wet and ready for him.
Her fingers dug into his back as she sucked in a quick breath. He watched her face and every emotion that passed over it. She held nothing back, kept nothing from him.
For the first time, Arran believed that a woman was giving all of herself to him. And something strange happened in his chest, almost as if something moved.
He thought no more about it as he delved a finger inside her. Her hips rocked against his hand. How he wanted to thrust inside her, to feel her walls hold him.
But Arran wasn’t ready for this to be over anytime soon.
He held himself in check and leaned down to wrap his lips around a turgid nipple. His tongue swirled around the bud before he suckled.
A cry wrung from Ronnie’s lips, her body stiffening for an instant before she arched her back. He smiled and moved to the other breast.
The way her body reacted to his every touch only made Arran want to give her more. He wanted her screaming his name, her body flushed and languid.
