Page 36 of Leila’s Legacy

“Ye’re loved by Lord Werrick and he’s claimed ye as his daughter. That is all that matters.”

She chewed her lip. “You know the truth of it, though. What my true father did. What I did.” Her brows pursed. “I never told them how sorry I was. I was…” She swallowed. “I was too much of a coward.” Her voice broke on the last word.

“If ye’re a coward, I dinna know what name to possibly assign to a man like Alban.” Niall scooted closer to where Leila sat.

She looked up, and though her eyes were bright with unshed tears, the corners of her mouth lifted in a ghost of a smile.

“Ye’re brave and from what I’ve known of ye and seen of ye, ye’re considerate of others.” Niall ran his thumb over the back of Leila’s slender forefinger where the fingertip was pink and raw. “Ye deserve better than ye’re getting here. In fact, ye dinna deserve to be here at all.”

Leila shot him a questioning look. But she did not pull her hand away from his touch. Her hand was cool under his, but not cold as before.

“Brodie told me what ye did for his sister,” Niall explained. “Even when captured and held in prison, ye sought only to assist others. Even the man guarding ye.”

“Most people with knowledge of healing would have aided her.” Leila’s thumb rose slightly, a scant bit of movement that was just enough to whisper over his. “I pray she is recovered.”

Niall’s mouth went dry at the delicate connection forming between them. “Aye,” he said softly. “Thanks to ye.”

“Brodie steeped the tea and tended to her.” She gazed up at Niall, her blue eyes wide and innocent and beautiful.

“Ye’re too good to be here.” Niall lifted his hand to carefully touch the smooth line of her jaw. She was smooth and warm against his palm. It made him ache to caress all of her thus.

Her lashes swept over her cheeks as she closed her eyes and nuzzled into his touch. She was a bonny lass, with fair skin, and plump, pink lips that begged to be tasted. Not that he ought to be tasting them.

Even as he thought as much, he found himself leaning toward her to capture that mouth in a tender, eager kiss.

Leila had been expecting the Lion’s kiss. She had not, however, expected the softness of his lips nor the intensity of need that scorched through her veins. His mouth moved over hers carefully, as though he was afraid of frightening her.

She leaned her head up farther to let him know she welcomed the kiss. Though God knew she should not. Not with this man who would kill her.

Yet everything in her drew her to him. His scent of cedar and leather, the slight rasp of the whiskers on his chin, the heat radiating from his body.

His large hand slid up to cup the back of her head, cradling its weight. The tip of his tongue brushed the seam of her mouth and something innate within her parted her lips for him. He tasted her then with a sweep of his tongue, and she gave a small whimpering sound in the back of her throat.

His mouth slanted over hers as his tongue teased against hers again and again. Everything within her burned with a lustful craving unlike anything she’d ever experienced. It pulsed hot and insistent between her legs and prickled at her nipples, so her breasts felt heavy and overly sensitive. In fact, all of her felt overly sensitive, and in tune to every movement of the Lion. Every smell, every taste, every sense was totally and completely enraptured with him.

Her breath came faster; her heart beat harder. She wanted more of this. Her tongue met his on the next stroke, tentative at first, then with a keenness that made her want more and more and more.

The Lion gave a low growl that sent tingles of pleasure skimming over Leila’s body. She reached out a hesitant hand and put it to the solid wall of his chest. His groan rumbled beneath her palm, encouraging her exploration of his body.

She let her fingers roam over him, learning the strength of his torso beneath from atop his doublet and shirt. In doing this, she eased up onto her knees from where they sat to better smooth her fingers over his powerful shoulders.

He lightly cupped her bottom, rounding his touch to fit over her perfectly as he raised himself to his knees as well. Her skin practically sizzled at the contact. She shifted closer to him and her kisses took on a passion she could not control; a passion she did not want to control. Her tongue tangled with his, their lips meeting and caressing against one another.

His hands ran up the sides of her waist and higher still to her breasts, where he cupped her against his palm and swept a thumb over her nipple. The highly sensitive bud needled with pleasure. She cried out in delight.

The Lion drew her closer, so she was fitted against him. A hardness strained between them. Though she was an innocent, she knew well what such a reaction from a man meant. A moan slipped unbidden from her lips and was muffled by their kisses.

His arms curled around her, solid with muscle and strength as he drew their bodies together. The length of his manhood pressed even more firmly against her. It was sinful of her, but she wanted it lower, near the source of her lust where she thrummed with hot abandon. She rubbed against him, panting with need at the hint of friction.

He propped one of his legs up, bracing her weight with his muscular thigh. She straddled his leg and immediately noted the delicious pressure against her intimate place. His mouth ran down her throat as his hands guided her hips to move over his thigh.

Leila blinked in surprise at the rush of pleasure as she ground herself against him. She arched her head back to give him better access to her neck and panted at the incredible sensation wrought by arching against him. Her fingers worked free the top few buttons of his doublet and explored his strong chest beneath. His skin was lightly dusted with wiry, golden hair and lines of hard muscle teased at her touch.

It made her want to see all of him, explore all of him. She gave a frustrated whimper she had not intended and began to work free several more buttons.

The Lion broke from their kiss with a ragged groan. “Nay. We shouldna be doing this. I never should have…” The longing on his face did not match the regret of his words, especially when his gaze dipped to her mouth.

Leila tucked her lower lip into her mouth, savoring the sweet memory of the feel of his mouth on it. “Kissed me?”