Page 366 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“For whom, sir?”

“Both of us, if you listen to me.”

Victoria sighed. “If you feel the need to instruct me to such detail, what in Hades do you hope to gain?”

Iain made a noise between a groan and a laugh.

“Never mind, just do as I say.”

“Faith, but you are mad.” She started to remove her hands from his shoulders, but he stopped her with a tight grip around her wrists. “You promised not to touch me,” she said, suddenly realizing freedom meant nothing more than being out of the disturbing presence of Iain MacPherson.

“Only while you are kissing me.”

He replaced her hands with a slight adjustment.

They were now on his chest. She dropped her gaze. His hands still covered hers, and it seemed he pressed her palms closer to his hard muscle. She had the unexpected urge to knead the dark flesh. A dizzying current swept through her.

“Have you the courage to finish what you started?” Iain said.

She jerked her head up. His face snapped into focus, and she read the satisfaction in his eyes. Panic rushed to the surface. She had to get as far away from him as possible. “I am not such a fool as to fall for such thin reasoning.” She started to pull away, but he held her firm.

“How badly do you wish to go to Dawilneh?”

She gave him a push. “Loathsome, loathsome man. You know exactly what you are doing.” And exactly the affect he was having on her. What in God’s name was wrong with her?

“Aye, love,” he said. “My expertise will give you great comfort and no little pleasure, I promise.”

Victoria blinked, then narrowed her eyes. “Have you anything more to say before we begin?”

“Kiss me as I have you.”

“If I do that, I will spend the next week in confession.”

Iain smiled. “Aye.”

Victoria glanced from the hands that still held hers, then back to him. Only then did he release her, leaving her sorry for the lack of support. She hesitated, her heart still pounding. She could do this—had to do this before it was too late. With a deep breath, she leaned into him. Lifting onto her toes, she touched her lips to his. The shock of their soft warmth nearly caused her to pull back, but he encouraged with a tiny sway of his body in her direction. She could have been wrong. Nay, he was still as stone. Though God knew, those lips weren’t made of granite.

Eyes closed and fingers clutching his sash, she slanted her head beneath his. The hard line of his jaw pressed against her face. He moved another fraction of an inch, allowing her to fit more snugly against him. His mouth parted and the heat of him seeped through her. She leaned into him. Did he want more?

Did she?

She remembered he had used his tongue with her and realized the invitation in his open lips. Warmth flushed through her. Invitation or command? It was impossible to tell, but with the flick of his tongue against her lips, Victoria knew he understood her hesitancy. Another brush of his tongue against her lips, and she extended her tongue into his mouth. The feel of him was immediate. Cool, yet hot. His flavor was masculine just as the scent of him always was. Her tongue moved of its own accord across the top of his, eliciting a deep groan from him. The sound woke her from the trance. Swaying, she slid her hands up and gripped his shoulders. They swayed, then started to fall.

Victoria tensed for the hard thump of contact, but Iain broke the impact, his body beneath hers, arms wrapped around her. She gasped at the hard ridge of arousal that dug into her belly, but was even more startled at the realization that heat had settled between her legs. She lay unmoving, torn between the fear of further inciting his desire by moving against him and the possibility that her legs wouldn’t hold her weight.

The heavy rhythm of his heart beat in unison with hers for another long moment before Iain rolled her onto her back. His weight pressed her into the moist ground. The flame in his eyes quickened her breath.

Dread tightened her stomach. She pushed at his chest. He stilled. She shook her head and he released her.

Iain stood and hauled her to her feet. Victoria commanded each step to remain steady as she started back toward the castle. A kiss was a small price to pay for freedom.

* * *

“How lovely,” Victoria cried at sight of the small waterfall that trickled into a pool at the base of the hill they rounded.

Iain called a halt, then whirled his horse around and rode up beside her. “A moment’s rest?” he asked.

They had been riding only ten minutes, and her insides buzzed with anticipation at seeing the village that lay so close to the keep, but she inclined her head in ascent as if she hadn’t a care in the world. “That is kind of you, my lord.”