This time he was the one who dragged his mouth away.
Her head ducked low. Her breath was shallow and quick. Her hair sheltered her face. He pushed it aside, tucking the silken strands behind her ear. His thumb traced down her cheek.
“Open your eyes, Maura. Let me see you.”
Within his tone lurked a quiet command.
Her gaze climbed slowly up to his mouth. It rested there for long, immeasurable moments before lifting to his eyes.
Their eyes cleaved.
There was no evading him now.
Pinned beneath the power of his gaze, Maura felt herself sway. Her anger had drained. A stark, painful longing cut through her. She was weary, so weary of being forever on guard against him. Weary of fighting her own treacherous longing. She wanted to yield. She wanted to be caught. She wanted to be held. She wanted to be his.
She wanted to belong to Alec McBride, the Black Scotsman.
“I did not lie when I said I want you in my bed.” He delivered the words with unmistakable deliberation. “I want you, Irish. I want you now.” He scoured her face intently. Even with her cheeks stained with tears, to him she had never been more beautiful. “Tell me you feel the same.”
“I do,” she whispered tremulously. And then again, this time echoing a vibrant need: “I do want you, Alec. I do.”
The words had scarcely left her mouth than he lifted her; her toes left the floor. She felt the knotted hardness of his bicep as he swung her around, high in his arms. But it wasn’t to her bed that he directed his steps.
It was to his.
He closed the connecting door between their rooms with the heel of his boot. Their mouths still fused, he lowered her to thefloor. His fingers were busy undoing the buttons of her gown. He caressed every inch of flesh bared to him.
In some faraway corner of her mind she realized she should stop him. There was too much at stake for her to abandon her cause without care. Without conscience.
But in that moment she didn’t care. Resolve unraveled. Decision was impossible. Kissing Alec was an insidious pleasure, she decided hazily. An almost sinful pleasure. It lured like a drug. She wanted more; she couldn’t get enough of him.
His mouth pulled slightly away. He cursed the encumbrance of clothing even as he attacked and dispensed with each layer. Frustration prompted his declaration.
“I swear I am going to burn every gown you own, Irish.” He dragged her bodice from her shoulders. A kiss was dropped on the swell of each breast, thrust high by her corset. “From this moment on you need not bother with the nuisance of clothing. I decree it.”
“What, do you fancy yourself king, sir?”
“Aye, and you are my queen. My pirate queen.”
“And you my pirate lord.” Maura’s laugh was breathless.
The last of her petticoats dropped to the floor. Alec bent low and began to peel away her stockings. He stroked the back of one knee, glancing up at her. “Lovely. A gift from an ardent admirer?” He glanced up at her.
The caress made her shiver inside. “Perhaps you should tell me, your grace.”
“Oh, aye.” He chuckled. Silver lights danced in his eyes. They were beautiful, so clear and blue, almost crystalline. “A most ardent admirer.”
Maura’s heart turned over. It felt wonderful, to tease with him like this. Alec was on his feet now. He fell silent. Those beautiful blue eyes roamed over her, every square inch of her. And now they burned with a hot, molten glow.
Maura felt a blush rise, from the bottom of her feet clear to her face. Only then did she realize it was still daylight; late afternoon sunlight seemed to cast a halo over her nudity.
Filled with nervous modesty, she tried to step close. Alec shook his head.
“Not yet, my love. Let me look at you.”
My love.Oh, if only he meant it!
Maura held her breath while his eyes journeyed slowly down the length of her. A decidedly rakish smile curved his lips. “A pity I have no patience.”
