“Put me down,” she gritted, pummeling his back.
He grunted. “Dinnae hit me, lass.”
She pounded harder, but she might as well have been striking the thick leather scabbard for all the good it did. His back was as hard as that humongous steel sword.
Mari felt a distinct sting as Jamie’s free hand found her exposed rump. “How dare you!”
“I told ye nae to hit me, lass. If ye keep it up, I will take ye over my knee once we are home.”
“You would not—” Mari stopped. The brute probably would. And what was he doing now? He had her legs clamped firmly against him, but his other hand was massaging the spot where he had spanked her. How dare he take such liberty? It was totally improper and indecent. And yet the lingering sting now turned into something warm and tingly. Oddly enough, a little spot at the juncture of her thighs began to pulsate too. She squirmed and heard him grunt again.
“Take care, lass.”
For what? She couldn’t hurt him, and his hold was too tight to drop her. Maybe she was getting heavy? “Put me down then.”
“Nae.” He stopped at the door, turning to Maddie so quickly that Mari’s head spun and she had to grip his waist. That was all hard muscle too.
“Gather yer things and get in the carriage. I’ll see ye safely home.”
Maddie opened her mouth and then closed it without saying a word. Silently, Effie and Maddie’s maids picked their parcels off the floor and hurried out the door.
“I can walk to the carriage,” Mari said, squirming again.
Jamie’s hand slipped down her thighs and, for a moment, it felt like he wascaressingher. Then he lifted her from his shoulder, loosening his grip just enough that she could slide down his broad chest. Unfortunately, that meant she maintained full body contact with him, causing her nipples to peak from the friction of rubbing against him. That odd little throbbing began between her thighs again.
His eyes were molten gold as he looked down at her. “Do I have yer word to behave?”
Behave? As if she were some errant child? Mari pushed away from Jamie and stepped out into the sunlight. Her face felt aflame, but that was surely from being dangled upside down. She refused to acknowledge the coachman’s startled expression and could only hope the two matrons suddenly intent on the window of the next shop had not seen what had taken place in the doorway.
With as much dignity as she could muster, she climbed into the carriage, ignoring Jamie’s proffered hand. The corner of the cad’s mouth twitched, as though he were trying not to laugh.
She sniffed and sat down hard on the padded seat next to Maddie. Her friend’s eyes were still wide, and her voice was breathy. “I think it rather nice that Mr. MacLeod is so protective,” she whispered. “Almost like a knight in shining armor.”
Mari gave an unladylike snort, drawing a severe glance from Effie. Jamie’s climbing into the carriage prohibited her from answering her friend. A knight indeed. More like a complete ruffian to have actually manhandled her.
The next time she saw Jillian, she would tell her sister just what she thought about this so calledguardianthat she did not need.
Mari lifted her head and gazed out the window, refusing to look at the scoundrel who sat across from her, but from her peripheral vision she could tell he was grinning.
“Mmmm,” Jillian murmured as she woke slowly to Ian nuzzling her neck, trailing feathery kisses down her throat. He draped his arm over her side, large hands surprisingly gentle as he rubbed a tender nipple between calloused fingertips. Bright sunlight filtered through the curtain at the window, telling her they must have overslept again. Ian was spoiling her to no end, allowing such lax behavior for a laird’s wife.
“Should we not be up and about? Your men will fault me for keeping you from your duties.”
She felt the vibration of his quiet chuckle against her back where he held her pressed against him. “They will nae doubt be jealous of a mon with such a lovely wife and understand the need to stay abed in the morn. Besides, Shane has taken over Jamie’s role of seneschal. I doubt any of the men are lingering long at breaking their fasts.”
“I should be setting an example. Your sisters are always up at dawn.”
Ian’s hand slipped down to caress her extended belly, and his skillful fingers stroked downward to her core, slipping inside to smooth her wet heat upward along her folds to cover the little nub that already pulsated at his touch.
He chuckled again. “Ye canna deny ye want me, wife. Yer body says otherwise.”
Jillian moaned again as the tension began to build. That Ian still found her attractive at seven months along was a constant source of surprise and happiness. Men in thetonroutinely took mistresses as soon as they found their wives to be pregnant, sometimes even flaunting the hoyden at the theatre or in Hyde Park. The wife stayed home since Society dictated ladies did not display themselves publicly once it was obvious they were with child.
That Scottish women could carry on about their business with their bellies heavy was another thing Jillian loved about her new home. Instead of the whole process of producing a child being somewhat clandestine, here the women reveled in their state, and their husbands practically swaggered with male pride.
Ian lifted her thigh back and over his, the hard tip of his erection probing her entry. “Tell me if it hurts, Jillie. I dinnae want my son thinking his da is a cruel mon.”
Jillian shifted slightly, allowing him to ease into her, his thick length filling her completely. Ian withdrew slowly, pushing in again, keeping the rhythm easy. With the pressure the babe put on her bladder, the feeling was exquisite. Her muscles clenched around him, and she shuddered her release. He allowed her to fully absorb her pleasure then gave a final hard thrust, and she felt his hot seed burst inside her.
