“Violet, I cannae allow ye leave like?—”
“You do not have to allow me to do anything!” she cried. “I am not yours to control!”
“Why do ye insist on challengin’ me at every turn?” he growled.
“Because you keep refusing to listen to me!” she growled back, feeling frustrated.
His eyes looked wild, as though he didn’t know what to do with her—whether to throttle or kiss her. Well, she didn’t know what to do with him either.
On the one hand, she wanted to kiss him just to see if there was any other look he could have on his face beyond rage and boredom. On the other hand, she wanted to scream at and hit him.
He stepped closer till there was barely any space between them, his eyes burning with a heat she felt low in her belly.
“I will listen to ye,” he muttered, voice as deep and rich as wine, “only when ye speak sense.”
“I speak sense, Laird McLeod,” she forced out past the lump in her throat. “My wanting to save my father is the only thing I can do as a loyal daughter. Surely such value should be esteemed by you.”
“He arranged a match to Lord Westall and abandoned ye once he deemed ye defiled,” he reminded her. “Surely such a man is undeserving of such loyalty from ye.”
“And if ye were to abandon me in the future?” she challenged. “Should I immediately switch loyalties?”
His nostrils flared, as though her words offended him.
“I will never abandon ye, Violet,” he vowed. “I swore to protect ye, and I will.”
His words, said with such fervor, filled her with confidence that she could trust him. But having been betrayed so many times by the man who should have protected her, she couldn’t allow herself to be deluded so easily.
“That remains yet to be seen, doesn’t it, my Laird?” she pointed out with a raised eyebrow.
He growled, and she half expected him to throttle her, but when his lips landed on hers, all rational thought flew out of her mind.
9
Ruaridh’s lips on hers were firm and unyielding, and for a moment, she stilled, unsure of what to do in such a surprising turn of events. But when she heard him groan and felt his arms wrap around her, her eyes fluttered shut, and she found herself leaning into him.
Her hands moved to his chest as her lips began to respond to his, and she felt his heart pounding hard, almost echoing her own.
He was warm and solid beneath her touch, his skin hot like he was lit from within despite it being so cold outside, and the hairs on his skin teased her fingers, sending tingles from her palms up her arms.
She scratched his skin with her nails and heard him groan, the sound traveling through her chest. Her body tightened in response, and soon her breasts felt heavy with a need she couldn’t name.
His broad hands moved from her face, lower to her back, and then her waist, and she felt a startling hardness poke her belly. He nipped at her lips, and she opened her mouth to let his tongue in, the taste of him making her moan.
The strokes of his tongue were soft at first, searching and tasting and helping her adjust, but soon they became hungry and overwhelming, and all she could do was surrender to the storm that was him.
More, please…
Her hands itched to touch him the way he touched her. To run through his hair as she had longed to do since the first moment she had seen him. To pull him even closer, even though there was hardly any space left between them.
She lifted her hands to the nape of his neck, sliding them into his soft hair before fisting them. His answering groan filled her chest with pride, and she did it again, loving how he shuddered against her.
A cold draft blew around them, but she wasn’t in the least bit worried, not when he burned like a flame against her. All her earlier worries about her poor choice of clothes faded as his warmth seeped into her chest.
When his lips finally left hers, she didn’t open her eyes for fear the moment was nothing more than a dream that would fade away when reality hit her, but she felt his forehead press against hers and sighed just as he did.
What had they even been arguing about? She couldn’t remember.
She wished she could say she was offended that he had taken such liberties with her, but no liberties had been taken, not when she had responded to him the way she had.
