Bridegroom Wore Plaid by Grace Burrowes

Author:Grace Burrowes [Burrowes, Grace]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9781611736748
Google: WfVbAQAAQBAJ
Amazon: B00EJ1V5VO
Goodreads: 13515289
Publisher: Center Point
Published: 2012-12-01T06:00:00+00:00

Nine

Julia Redmond was a sound sleeper, so sound Con had a few extra minutes to doubt his sanity and argue with himself over his presence in her bedroom—fruitless minutes while his cock clamored for him to be about a lusty man’s typical business in a willing woman’s bed.

Too bad for his cock, that wasn’t the plan.

“Connor?” Julia struggled up to prop herself back on her elbows, her braid a thick, coppery rope over one shoulder. “It is you, isn’t it?” She blinked in the moonlight streaming through her windows then reached out to where he stood beside her bed to take him by the wrist. “Say something, or I’ll think I’m dreaming.”

“Maybe you are dreaming.” He put one knee on the bed, pausing long enough to pull his shirt out of his breeches and over his head. “Lie back, Julia, and be silent.”

There was risk involved. Risk that she’d start shrieking, belatedly recovering her previously misplaced sense of decorum, but Con had seen the loneliness in her eyes, had heard the bewilderment and hurt in her voice when she’d tried to apologize to him in the stable.

“You have one chance to change your mind, Julia Redmond. You shake your head if you don’t want me here, or you nod if I’m staying.”

He waited as if he had all the time in the world, as if a Chinese rocket weren’t trying to launch itself from his breeches into her body. She nodded, slowly, solemnly.

Good. She understood this was no small concession on his part. He pulled the covers aside and settled his body right over hers, caging her with his bigger frame.

“Kiss me, Julia.”

He didn’t give her time to get all those female gears spinning in her brain; he charged forth, intent on seizing his prize, which was to say, he kissed her. Set his mouth on hers and consigned himself to the sweetest suffering known to man.

She kissed like a young girl, lips sealed, not like a widowed lady who went around propositioning near strangers in the woods. Her reticence pleased him, helped him lecture that trouser rocket into submission and gave him the patience to savor her.

Sweet, was his first impression when he traced her lips with his tongue. Sweet, soft, enticing—like the rest of her. He felt himself getting pulled into the kiss, the exploration and pleasure of it, while he sank a hand into her hair.

“Connor…”

“No words, Julia.” Except the mention of his name had parted her lips. He didn’t invade. He explained and waited for her to catch on, then demonstrated again. On the second try, she got the idea and touched her tongue to his lips, a little lick of warmth that coursed down through his body and made him want to clutch at her.

To shuck his pants and swive her witless.

He let the thought go, thanking the Deity he’d had sense enough to wear trousers rather than a kilt and to keep his trousers on and buttoned.

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