Then, in an instant, Angus opened his mouth to hers and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She could feel his tongue entering her mouth, and she moaned into him, moving her tongue forward as well, tasting him. She turned her head to deepen the kiss and placed her hands on the side of his face, feeling the soft tickle of his beard under her hands.
He tasted like sweet wine, and Charlotte could feel her center throbbing with need. Never before had a kiss she’d shared with a man in London felt like this. Before, it had always been forbidden but still with a sense of decorum. This was wild and untamed, and a fire kindled between them that began to grow. She could feel his hands roaming around her back and then gripping her waist, pulling her body towards his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her mouth once more to kiss him again.
The heat was becoming too much. Her body threatened to burst into flame. So, she slowed and pulled away. They breathed heavily in front of each other, their lips nearly touching. Charlotte moved her hands away from his face and backed up. She felt something new as she broke the kiss, and it scared her. “I have to go to bed,” she said, and Angus nodded wordlessly, his mouth still open as he tried to catch his breath.
She began to walk away, annoyed, and a little hurt that he did not try to stop her. She turned back to him and said over her shoulder, “You’re not dull at all, Angus MacLean.”
Angus was rubbing a hand on the back of his neck and looked up at her. He said in a low voice. “And even if ye dinnae think it, lass, ye are already perfect.”
Charlotte blushed and picked up her skirts to leave the room, her head swimming. Had Angus MacLean just called her perfect?
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Kenna Kendrick is an American based author of Historical Scottish Romance living in Austin Texas with her husband and three children. Her more than 25-year-old experience as an English Teacher has brought her close to the literary world, growing her love for fictional stories.
Her love for literature was also strong because of her father John who used to write crime-stories. While she tried following on her father's footsteps, a trip to Scotland sealed the deal for as she fell in love with the Celtic myths and the bleak Highlands.
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