Read Online My Fair Highlander by Mary Wine - Free Book Online Page B

her face burn with a blush. “Exactly.”
    â€œWith yer skirts tossed?” His lips were curving up in a grin while his tone mocked her.
    â€œStop it. This is cruel. Riding out was foolish, but I am not a slut, and you should not be looking at my thighs. No one has ever looked at . . .” She couldn’t help how pitiful she sounded. Helplessness was closing around her with an icy grip. There was nothing to stop him from doing what he would. Even her own body seemed to have a liking for his touch. She looked away from him, unable to prevent two tears easing from her eyes. She may have done some foolish things since her father’s death, but never had she shamed him.
    A soft word muttered in Gaelic drew her attention back to Gordon. He lifted his body so that her skirts were loose. She pulled them toward her and sat up so that her legs were covered once again. Gordon relaxed against the bed once more, lying in a contented pose while he studied her. It was by far the most unusual setting she had ever been in. All her life had been dictated by rules and traditions. The prospect of being in bed with a man she barely knew had never occurred to her. At least, not if that man was not her husband. Brides often had to deal with meeting their spouses for the first time on the their wedding night.
    But she had no such comfort as knowing that wedding vows protected her honor and future. Losing her maidenhead tonight would see her facing a harsh reality tomorrow morning. There would be plenty who would point and judge her for not being pure. Gordon wouldn’t face such. No, the shame would be hers alone and well deserved for sneaking past Synclair the way she had. There was no one to blame but herself.
    She drew in a deep breath and banished the tears from her eyes, better to face what was to come than shiver in dread.
    â€œWell? What do you want now, Gordon Dwyre?”
    His lips twitched, but they didn’t curve. The man appeared to be watching her, studying her.
    â€œI shouldn’t have looked at yer thighs, lass.”
    Jemma nodded agreement.
    â€œBut I enjoyed it full well.” He smiled with arrogant confirmation of that enjoyment.
    She offered him a short huff. “If you think I’ll thank you for that compliment, you are mistaken.”
    He lifted one thick finger. “Maybe not, but I see that ye find me as interesting as I find you.”
    â€œI do not.”
    His lips parted as his smile became larger. “Ye undress me with yer eyes, Jemma; ’tis a fact that I find it hard to resist.”
    â€œTry harder.” She would, she had to.
    He shook his head. “But ye did hit me, so—” His gaze lowered to her lips and passion flared to life in his eyes. “Ye owe me one sweet kiss to relieve the pain.”
    â€œTrust a man to believe kisses relieve pain.”
    One of those eyebrows rose once more. “Do ye deny that many a mother has offered a kiss to soothe the discomfort of her child?”
    â€œYou are not a child.” And she was far too aware of it for her own sanity. Her nipples were still hard, begging for the touch of his skin against them. The idea of kissing him was threatening to cast every scrap of self-discipline aside.
    â€œIf I roll onto me back and allow ye to tickle me belly, will ye offer me a sweet kiss, Jemma?”
    Her mouth went dry. “I shall not.” Jemma forced the words past the wicked urgings that were emerging from the excitement flickering inside her. Part of her did want to touch him, almost too much to ignore.
    â€œWell, that’s a pity. I think I would have enjoyed it full well.” He winked at her before rolling over his shoulder and off the edge of the bed. His kilt went flying, but he landed on his feet in a balanced stance before straightening up, and all she gained was a flash of his trim backside.
    A pity . . .
    Her cheeks flamed scarlet.
    â€œI must admit that I did enjoy putting ye to bed,