Page 39 of Reckless Desire

“Do you think the gossip will be very terrible?”

“Quite terrible.” He smiled down at her. “If not for our marriage.”

She shook her head and pushed away from him. He kept her within the circle of his arms. “That will not be necessary,” she said. “Sir Stirling and Lady Chastity are sure to send me home after this scandal.”

“You do not understand, love. Marriage to me will end all scandal.”

“Nae, it is you who does not understand. There is no need to sacrifice yourself. I can return home with no harm done to me and return to my life as it was before.”

“Miss Ramsay, scandal like this will follow you to the farthest borders of Scotland.”

“Nonsense. No one on Skye will hear about this, and even if they do, I will explain that I was kidnapped. Those that know me will not think less of me.”

“What of those who want to hurt you?”

She thought of Miss Innis Hayes, a spiteful creature who despised all other women, especially Kenna. No doubt, if she heard that Kenna had been kidnapped by Lord Hensley and then returned home alone with Lord Newhall— Never mind the duel between Lord Hensley and Lord Wilshire. He was right. Someone like Innis would use the gossip to hurt her. But it was highly unlikely Innis or anyone else on Skye would hear of her kidnapping. She wasn’t a person of interest… But he was.

Might news reach Skye of how Viscount Newhall ‘rescued’ a country girl from a viscount who had kidnapped her? She had seen enough gossip-mongering to know that lovers of rumor would never countenance the idea that a viscount had kidnapped her with the honorable intention of marriage. They would believe she had made up that part. If such news really did reach Skye, she would be well and truly ruined.

Did it really matter? At twenty-three, she had concluded that the chance of marriage was slim to none. What affect would scandal have on her life? None.

“I am no worse off now than I was before I came here,” she said. “So, you need not worry.”

He shook his head. “You are much worse off than you were before Hensley kidnapped you.”

“None of this is your responsibility,” she said.

“It is, indeed, my responsibility,” he replied. “As you pointed out, I nearly got you drowned.”

“You were only trying to help. I was angry. All this is Lord Hensley’s fault.” A thought struck. “Will he really go to jail?”

“He will.”

That meant a trial. That news would definitely reach Skye. Her aunt would be terribly disappointed. Aunt Lydia believed Kenna was lonely. How could she possibly be lonely watching Owen grow up? He was almost like a son to her. When he had children, she would be their honorary auntie. That would mean no man to hold her close as Lord Newhall did now. No man to tell her all would be well. To kiss her when she cried. That hadn’t happened anyway. So why worry?

“Miss Ramsay…Kenna.” He placed a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head up. “I promise you, there is no need for tears.”

She was crying again? What was wrong with her? She shook her head and tried to step out of his arms. His eyes dropped to her mouth. Her pulse skipped a beat. Had he read her mind? He lowered his mouth. Their lips touched. Then his mouth covered hers.

Chapter Nine

Need coursed through Bryson. He’d almost lost her—three times in one day. God have mercy on his soul. He would never live through this day, much less a lifetime of loving this woman. How did people survive love? His parents made it look so easy. Even their disputes paled in comparison to this upheaval. And the need. He needed her so badly it hurt.

Her mouth was as soft as he’d known it would be. She sighed against his lips and his cock hardened with painful intensity. If not for Hensley lying senseless on the ground, he could toss her into the carriage and make love to her. They were going to marry, after all. She was his. Exhilaration surged through him. He crushed her closer.

She squeaked. Then melted into his embrace. His head swam, then he became aware of the soft press of her breasts against his chest and the way his cock fit against her abdomen. He’d fought arousal ever since they’d climbed out of the river. Her clothes had molded to her perfect form. Her legs were lithe, as he’d known they would be, and, though she wore a heavy petticoat, he was certain he’d glimpsed a hint of the dark patch between her legs. Imagination or no, he’d half considered telling her that moment that they were to marry, then make love to her.

She tilted her head to the side and rose on tiptoes, deepening the kiss. What she lacked in experience, she made up for in enthusiasm. She learned quickly. He flicked her lips with his tongue and she opened for him. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders. He swept his tongue inside her mouth. Tentatively, she touched her tongue to his. His bollocks tightened. God, he wanted her.

She breathed into his mouth. Did she want him as badly as he wanted her? He pressed her back against the carriage and undulated his cock against her belly. She drew a sharp breath. He grunted with satisfaction and slid his flattened palm upward. The tips of his fingers brushed the underside of her breast, then her breast filled his palm. Her pebbled nipple brushed his flesh.

Desire clouded his brain. Would she let him make love to her inside the carriage? He fought the idea. She was a maiden, his future wife. For her first time, she deserved more than three minutes with him inside a carriage. At this point, that was all he would last. She would want a warm bath and fresh bedsheets. Still… He massaged her breast. Her chest lifted and fell. His head thrummed. Blood pounded loud in his ears.

Something registered in his brain. What—

“I see you have things well in hand.”

Bryson tore from the kiss and whirled, chest heaving, Miss Ramsay hidden behind him. He blinked. Stirling and another man—