Page 26 of The Highlander’s Untamed Lady

She squeezed around him and he knew with an excited slam of his heart, she was about to climax. His own release tingled low in his groin. He ground his teeth to stave it off despite the growing heat of impossible pleasure unraveling inside of him. Her breath hitched and she tightened around him, tighter and tighter and tighter until she cried out and he could hold back no more.

His control spiraled free and pulled him under the passion, the euphoria, until it seemed as though he would happily drown in it, until he was out of breath and clinging to Diana as she clung to him. His wife. In body now as well as name.

She had trusted him. In a world where so many had disappointed and lied and hurt her, she had trusted him.

The realization welled in his soul.

He stared down at her flushed face and stroked a blonde curl from her cheek. “Ye’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Diana.”

“And you’re magnificent.” She spoke in a languid tone and ran a lazy hand over the lines of his stomach.

Her caress still burned over his flesh, even after having just spent his lust. And even if he had not spent it all, he had no intention of doing more.

Not tonight. Not until she was ready. He was not fool enough to think one time would fix the hurt of what had been done to her.

He pulled from her warmth and lay beside her, pulling her against him. She laid her head on his chest, naturally and easily. He ran his hand over her slender back and his right hand hummed with the indulgence of touching her, holding her, being with her. Sleep pulled at him and he did not avoid its lure. He had everything he needed in life. The coin from the dowry would be arriving the next day, and he had his wife cradled in his arms. But there was more. The way his heart seemed to swell to larger than anything that could possibly fit in his chest.

He was in love with his wife.

Diana woke to the soft click of a door. The warmth she’d curled beside through the night had disappeared. Evander was gone.

She couldn’t help the whirl of disappointment dragging her happiness into the pit of her stomach. After all, he’d stayed with her through the night, sleeping beside her, holding her. Being so bloody wonderful, she couldn’t help but savor the moment as if it were a bit of precious confection melting against her tongue.

Stupid girl.

Foolish girl.

He’d been silent when he left, his movements quiet and careful as if he hadn’t meant to wake her. The room which had only a day before felt so large now closed in on her. Her heart fluttered like a panicked bird trapped within her chest.

Evander.

Courageous, patient, kind. Handsome.

The very thought of him left her yearning with desire to see him once more and dreading it all at once.

She lay there for a long time, buried under the covers while a surge of emotions charged and clashed through her. After all, love was such a fragile thing. An ugly thing. It garnered trust, it encouraged hope. And then it shattered and left everything broken and raw.

She didn’t want hope. As beautiful as love was, the pain of its loss was unbearable.

Her palm went hot suddenly, burning. Fear streaked through her and locked her in a grip of panic.

Evander.

His name shrieked through her mind with a wild frenzy. It spurred her from bed and forced her to throw her clothes on with trembling haste. Her husband’s name screamed through her mind again and again and again, echoing in her heartbeat.

He was in danger.

She knew it with more certainty than she’d ever known anything in her life.

And she would do anything to save him.

Chapter Eleven

Salvation drew closer. The carriage crept to where Evander and Camden waited with two other soldiers. There would be coin within. Enough to afford them food for the rest of the hard spring and buy the potato seed to plant when the ground thawed.

Evander could have waited for them to arrive at the castle to meet the men, but his gut twisted against the idea. He’d take the coin from the men first, ensure all was well prior to leading them through the castle gates and into his home. It might be overcautious, but one could never be too careful when it came to the English.

A man led the group of a dozen soldiers surrounding the wagon. They’d all bundled against the harsh chill of the Highlands, their discomfort evident and amusing.