The Highlander Who Loved Me (MacCallan Clan, #2)
Page 18
His eyes took on a sudden intensity, and then his lips captured hers, devouring, savoring, and Isla knew her heart, though still lost—lost to this man—was not as hopeless as she had feared. In fact, her heart seemed quite clever. It had recognized Drew from the first moment he had come back into her life, when she had not.
So she poured, poured her heart and soul into their kiss as she met each stroke of his tongue.
“Bloody hell,” he breathed against her lips. “You even taste like roses.”
“Is that bad?” she inquired.
He shook his head. “You always smell sweet, but today the scent is stronger, the taste sweeter, like all my dreams come true.”
“That is quite a statement,” Isla murmured.
He softly brushed a kiss over her lips and grinned down at her. “You taste like everything I have ever wanted, even back when I dared to dream I could have it all.” He trailed a finger over her flushed skin. “Even your skin feels like the soft velvet of a rose petal.”
“Does that mean you are never letting me go?”
“Isla . . .” Her name ended on a low groan. He pulled her closer to him. “I am never letting you out of my sight again. As a matter of fact, you are never leaving this chamber.”
“I do not wish to leave.” Isla blushed. “Ever.”
“I’m afraid if I blink, you will vanish, and this will all be a dream.” He rubbed his cleanly shaven jaw. “But if this is a dream, I love that you are a maid.”
Isla swatted his arm. “You no longer need to dream, Drew. But just in case, let’s not waste more time to make it real.”
A thick brow rose. “Is that a marriage proposal?” Boldly, he pressed himself against her, and she felt the hardness of his desire. “Or is that a proposition?”
“A mere maid can never hope to snatch up a lord such as yourself.”
“Miracles happen every day.”
“Then why is my common sense warning me that you are a dangerous man, Drew Murray? Much too dangerous for this feeble heart to handle.”
“Then I shall prove to you that I will protect your heart with my life.” He yanked her cap from her head, causing her copper hair to untwine and spill down to her waist. “Much better.”
“Protecting me might just cost you your life,” she murmured, and when he raised an inquisitive brow, she added, “My sister’s wedding is in less than a fortnight. Will you attend with me?”
“Where you are, there I will be.”
“Even a wedding with the entire MacCallan clan present?”
He snatched her hand and laid it over his heart, fingers entwining with hers. “I truly won’t survive this love, will I?”
Isla laughed. “I won’t force you to attend.” She tilted her head and looked at him askance. “The count is visiting MacCallan Castle, so I suppose I won’t be alone.”
“Say that again?” Drew growled, a scowl forming on his brows. “Because I thought I heard you say Count Coxcomb is visiting MacCallan Castle.”
Isla chewed on her bottom lip to keep from grinning, managing a small shrug. “He showed up at MacCallan Castle.”
“When the hell did he do that? Why the hell did he do that?” Lip curling in disgust, he ran a hand through his hair. “I ought to have put him in his grave—”
Isla did laugh then, a soft sound that attracted his brooding eyes to her lips.
“What the hell is so funny?” he demanded gruffly.
She broke into a grin. “The count arrived with Miss Walker and Mrs. Cooper.”
“He did?” His lashes, thick and dark, lowered a fraction. “Why the devil didn’t you say so?”
“Because then I’d not have gotten a chance to witness such a splendid display of jealousy.”
“You little vixen. Just in case,” he yanked her close, “I will make you mine, fully, right this moment.” His eyes took on a wicked edge. “And the answer is aye, I will.”
Her breath caught. “Will what?”
“Marry you.”
“I never asked.”
He began tugging at her laces and dress, his gaze sparkling with bedevilment. “This outfit is a problem. I am gloriously naked beneath this towel, while you are still clothed.” His voice lowered. “Granted, I might just grow fond of role-play.”
Isla’s eyes widened as he whipped the towel from his body. Her breath caught on a small sound of surprise and a snort of laughter, her hands lifting to cover her eyes. “You are naked!”
Large, gentle fingers circled her wrists, yanking them away from her eyes. “Aye, and you’ve shared heat with this body more times than I can count. Are you not curious?”
Isla clamped her eyelids tight.
“Perhaps, but what if I’m not ready to see whether your body lives up to the expectations of my mind?” Isla teased with a laugh.
“Excuse me? Are you saying I am not the Greek god you imagined me to be?”
Isla cracked one eye open. Amusement lit his gaze, though it was set in stern features. She tried not to laugh.
“I ought to be offended,” he drawled.
She opened the other eye.
“But I’m oddly flattered.”
He stood back so that she could take a good long look at him, his hands settling on his hips.
Oh, dear Lord.
“Am I lacking in any regard?”
Isla’s gaze skittered over every part of his body—every mind-blowing portion—as a blush bloomed on her cheeks and a wave of desire raced through her.
Ye, ye, ye, ye gods.
His lips lifted into a sinful smirk.
Within minutes, or maybe it was seconds, she was lifted and laid upon the soft mattress cloaked with his scent. He took his time, expert hands peeling away each item of clothing she had borrowed from a castle maid. His mouth, that wicked mouth, trailed the bare skin exposed as soon as each garment fell away, until Isla was swimming in a sea of exquisite awareness.
His mouth searched for hers, hot and greedy, and a dizzy rush circulated in her bloodstream when he deepened the kiss. Isla had never felt this way before. Her body stirred in ways she never imagined possible. She folded her arms around his back and felt his hardness press against her folds. Isla groaned. Excitement and thrill pulsed through her veins. The night hadn’t even started yet, and she thought she might perish from pleasure.
Then his mouth was gone, and Isla protested its loss. But he pulled away only long enough to delve his eyes into hers. Finding what he wanted, she felt his hands skim the inside of her thigh, and he started to push into her, pressing through the last barrier that divided them.
His lips brushed her mouth again. Soft. Gentle. Heavenly. And then he was inside of her. Fully. Completely. Extraordinary. Isla’s entire world exploded. The initial pinch of pain was forgotten almost as swiftly as it had happened, and her hips bucked against him, wanting more, demanding more.
“Are you all right, love?” he breathed in a harsh whisper against her skin. “Saints, you feel unbelievable.”
“I’ve never been more perfect.”
His hand followed the curve of her waist, holding her close to him as he kissed her, tracing all the faint flushes on her skin with his lips.
“Even your body taste like roses,” he murmured against her breast. He lowered his head and breathed in deeply. “The saccharine scent of roses seems to be a part of you.”
“That is because I’ve been tending my mother’s rose garden since I was a little girl.”
“Nay,” he said with the shake of his head. “It is just who you are—a rose of the Highlands. My rose.”
Moisture gathered at the corner of her eyes, and Isla drew him to her for a kiss. The kiss was far gentler than she’d anticipated after the urgency that had driven them up till now, but sparks of fire lit in her belly. His lips were smooth and soft, and she tasted whisky on his tongue.
Isla drank her fill of him.
He began to move inside of her with a deep moan, his low thrusts igniting every nerve in her b
ody. Being in his arms, filled with him, felt as natural as breathing, and she let go, arching into his hardness with every stroke. His arms came around her, pulling her closer until their breaths united and they became one.
What had started as urgent and demanding tapered into tender and sensual. Her breasts pushed against the solid strength of his chest where she could feel his heartbeat. Her peaks tightened in response, and deep in her core, fire reached for the heavens.
Her breath came out fast and short, and her hands dug into his back. Her core throbbed and pulsed with the most tantalizing sensation.
“Aye, love,” he murmured against her ear. “Give yourself up to the sensation.”
Entranced by the huskiness of his brogue, the hard sleekness of his body that awakened hers with his touch, Isla let go. Pleasure struck full force, and she cried out as her body trembled with the tremors that rocked her.
He groaned into her hair as her body clenched down on his, the slam of his hips altering to an exquisite tempo as he, too, found his release in her arms. Isla hugged him tightly and felt at home for the first time in a long while—exactly where she was meant to be.
“Let’s get married tonight.”
“Tonight?”
Drew rolled onto his side, flashing Isla an indulgent lopsided grin. “All we require are two witnesses, and you are mine forever.”
“Do not tell me you are scared of my brothers.”
He scoffed. “If I were scared of those lumps, I’d not have entered the belly of the beast.” His eyes darkened. “But I’m not leaving anything up to fate anymore.”
“They accepted Mr. Ruthven,” Isla pointed out.
“I don’t care. Weddings take months to prepare. You’re not leaving my bed, ergo, we must marry posthaste.”
“I can plan a wedding in a few weeks.”
“Too long.”
Isla puckered her brows. “I will admit, wedding in secret does sound thrilling, but I’ve always dreamed of a wedding ceremony.”
“Then you will have one: big, flashy, small, intimate—any way you want.”
Isla thought for a moment, a chuckle passing her lips. “Do you know, a small, intimate ceremony at our Haunted Inn sounds intriguing.”
“Haunted Inn?” Humor lit his eyes. “We never did catch its name, did we?”
“Nay, we never did.” She turned to him. “Of course, I am partial to Mr. Drummond’s ale, as you, apparently, are to his broth.”
“And lumpy beds.” He kissed her nose. “But only when they are shared with you.” He paused, brows furrowing. “I’m also very curious to meet the mysterious Mrs. Donnelly.”
Isla laughed. “She certainly wins as the most mysterious guest. But if only the haunted can find it, however shall we make our way back?”
Drew shook his head. “Retrace our steps, I suppose.” He sent her a teasing look. “We aren’t haunted anymore, are we?”
“Not when we are together.”
“That might prove to be a problem in locating the inn.”
Isla sighed, and then her chin snapped up as a thought occurred to her. “Do you think my brothers will follow us in a mad dash?”
“I believe they are already on their way.”
Gold dust met stormy blue, and two mouths curved into spectacular grins.
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Romances by Tanya Wilde
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A Lady’s Guide to Kiss a Rake
A Gentleman’s Guide to Save a Lady
The Devil Meets Lady Veronica Pebblesworth
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Give Your Heart a Rake
Swept Away by a Wild Lord
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Swept Away by a Wicked Rogue
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An Invitation to Marriage
The Perks of being a Duchess
A Gypsy in Scotland
The Highlander Who Loved Me
About the Author
Tanya Wilde developed a passion for reading when she had nothing better to do than lurk in the library during her lunch breaks. Her love affair with pen and paper followed soon after she had devoured all of the library’s historical romance books!
When she’s not meddling in the lives of her characters or drinking copious amounts of coffee, she’s off on adventures with her partner in crime.
Wilde lives in a town at the foot of the Outeniqua Mountains, South Africa.
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
The Highlander Who Loved Me. Copyright © 2019 by Tanya Wilde. All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storages and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invested, without the express written permission of the author.