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Kate’s mouth went dry—not from the knowledge that he’d killed a hundred men, but from the pain she’d heard in his voice. It was as though his very soul ached, torn by the memories of the deeds he’d done.

“Picture that,” he rasped. “And tell me then that ye still want to ken.”

She laid her hand on his forearm, and he jolted a little but didn’t break the contact.

“I want to know, Ian,” Kate pressed. “If you think the fact that you saved my life, by whatever means you could, terrifies me, it doesn’t. If you think my opinion of you changed, it did. I respect you even more now. No one has ever done what you’ve done for me. All I have for you is gratitude. All I feel for you is—”

Love.

Was she crazy to think she was in love with him after knowing him for so little time? But her heart tap-danced inside her chest, and her whole body floated, as light as a feather.

She didn’t say the word out loud, but Ian’s eyes darkened, and a mixture of a hope and pain flashed through his face.

He turned to her, wrapped his arm around her shoulders and brought her to him. He paused, eyeing her, his gaze an intoxicating combination of admiration and doubt.

“Where have ye been my whole life, lass?” he said.

“So far away, you won’t believe me,” she whispered, then stood on her toes, reached out to him, and kissed him.

Chapter 17

Her lips were like petals—delicate, supple, and warm. Her body pressed against his was heaven, the feel of her stirring fire in his loins. He drank the kiss like a healing draft, sweet and fresh and magical.

He eased his tongue into the depths of her mouth, swiping it against hers with gentle strokes. She responded, the touch of her tongue sending a succulent wave of pleasure through him. She tasted of forbidden delights, of the secrets of the world, and he wanted to know all of them.

Her hands wrapped around his neck, and he tightened his arms around her, wanting to have as little space between them as humanly possible. And as few clothes…

He tugged her to the ground and they sank to their knees, then he gently laid her on the grass and stretched himself out next to her. He coveted her, wanted to cherish every part of her body.

He’d never imagined she would be so accepting of his confession just now, and not think him a monster after what she’d seen him do to the English. Her reaction humbled him. He didn’t deserve a bonnie lass like her. She offered her acceptance so easily.

It was a streak of luck he’d encountered those Sassenach soldiers and could free her. If he’d returned home and found out she’d left without saying goodbye to him, he would have hurt more than he’d like. A painful heaviness formed in his chest. She was here in his arms now. The biggest blessing of all.

He brushed his hand against her unmarred cheek, marveling at the creamy, silky skin under his callused fingers. He trailed them down her neck to her tender collarbone, then stilled, pausing in awe at the curve of her breast under the material of her dress. Continuing his exploration, he cupped the deliciously ripe form. Kate gasped and arched her back a little to lean into his palm.

He massaged her breast, the abundant feel of her making him harden even more. Oh, the little golden-haired temptress. He leaned over her, nibbling at her nipple, then sucking the hardening bud into his mouth. Even through the damp fabric, he tasted her—a wee bit salty and sweet and a feast of feminine softness.

Kate tangled her fingers in his hair and brought him closer.

“Oh, Ian.” The moan was born deep in her throat.

He’d never heard his name sound like a prayer before.

“Aye, lass,” he rasped as he moved to her other breast. “Ye will see the moon and the stars.”

She looked up and him. “I only want to see you.”

His throat tightened to stop the heart-wrenching emotion from spilling out.

“I havna seen anyone so bonnie as ye,” he said. “And I nae will.”

He returned to worshiping her, grasping her waist, then kissing his way down her hips. He kissed every part of her—every inch of her sacred, every detail of her body a benediction.

He reached her ankles and ran his hands up her legs under the skirt of her dress, her skin there cool and smooth.

Crack.

Crack. Crack.