A Highlander's Christmas Kiss by Paula Quinn

Author:Paula Quinn
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2016-09-27T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Where’s Gram?” Temperance asked when Cailean returned with Patrick a short while later.

“Miss Gilbert wanted her to stay the night.”

“And Gram agreed to leave me here alone with you?”

“Nae,” he told her, removing his plaid and tossing it to a chair. “She agreed after Patrick vowed to keep me away from ye.”

Patrick aimed a cheerful grin at her and snatched a tankard of whisky from the table. “Night then,” he bid them. “I’ll likely see ye sometime after noon tomorrow. I’m off to meet Maryanne Menzie.”

“But you gave your word to Gram,” Temperance called out as he opened the door. Not that she wanted him to stay.

“I willna tell her if ye dinna,” Patrick called back, and left.

“He’s a heedless rogue,” Cailean said, coming to her side.

“’Tis Christmas,” Temperance reminded him when they were alone.

“So ’tis.” He smiled at her, turning her insides to liquid. “D’ye want to celebrate it with me, lass?”

“I shouldn’t,” she whispered honestly. But oh, how she wanted to.

“Nor should I.”

They laughed together before he took her hand and pulled her closer.

She looked up at him, wanting to spread her fingers over his bristly jaw and plump, pouty lips. “Thank you for a wonderful night. I shall never forget it.” Her voice went low, honest, and grateful. She smoothed her thumb over his fingers. “I… I don’t want you to leave, Cailean.”

He stared into her eyes, making her doubt the good of her senses, her logic. He had a home to go to, and he’d be going after Hogmanay. She was a fool to lose her heart to him, but it was already too late.

Bending to her, he kissed her remaining thoughts from her head. His lips were soft, tempered with something he leashed… something she wanted to set free.

This had to be what her father had meant about love. It hit her like lightning, buckled her knees, set her heart racing at the very thought of him. She could love Cailean Grant.

“Cailean,” she whispered as he withdrew, bent to sweep her up in his arms, and carried her to her room.

Temperance should have stopped him. But she had no intention of doing any such thing. Tonight she’d realized that she was falling in love with him. She wanted to tell him, the way her mother had told her father on Christmas Eve. She remembered the way he’d kissed her while the wind howled around them. Her blood still sizzled in her veins. That had to be why she cupped Cailean’s face in her hands while he carried her and drew his mouth to hers again and again.

When they reached her room, he kicked the door shut and brought home the bolt with one hand. He used the other to keep her drawn against him.

“Gram,” she worried.

“She willna return alone in the dark,” he assured her.

“Then”—she pulled him to her and kissed him again—“we have all night.”

She hurried him to the bed and sat him down. “Wait here.” She left his side and went to her chest of drawers.

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