Dryden's Bride by Margo Maguire

Author:Margo Maguire [Maguire, Margo]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Love Story, Romance
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-03-14T14:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Siân eyed him warily and gave a little shake of her head. She had her pride even though her modesty was not exactly intact. There was no way in heaven she was going to give him leave to stroke her, to tantalize her with his touch when she knew that his thoughts, his heart, lay with another. She couldn’t bear it.

Besides, she’d always taken care of herself, and she would continue to do so now. It would not do to become dependent on anyone…especially Hugh Dryden. “I’ll be all right,” she said, “once this storm passes. They always make me nervous. Then I’ll be able to sleep and all will be well.”

A muscle in Hugh’s jaw flexed and he poured some of the liniment into one hand. “Siân,” he said. “You will have to ride tomorrow. But the look of you now, you’ll be too tender and I’ll have to go on without you.”

“No!” she cried, despising the sound of panic in her voice.

“Then lie down and turn over.”

“No, I—I can do it myself,” she said, reaching for the bottle.

Hugh gave a derisive snort. “Siân, just lie down. Nothing untoward will happen.”

She didn’t know how he could say that. Untoward things happened each time he touched her. His very proximity wrought havoc on her senses.

Hesitantly, she did as she was told, then Hugh moved to kneel at her side. There was a long pause as she waited for him to touch her, but she soon felt his hand at the back of her knee. He reached under her gown, and, keeping her properly covered, began to rub, his hand slowly rising to massage the back of her thigh.

Before long, his other hand joined in and he worked the muscles of both legs. Siân’s entire body turned to gruel as his hands kneaded her limbs. Heat permeated the muscles and relaxation followed as he worked, and Siân began to feel a measure of relief.

His hands were amazingly strong. He compressed and released with exquisite care, massaging, soothing, inching gradually upward to where she felt the most discomfort. It was also the place where she was most sensitive to his touch.

Siân hid her face in her folded arms as he worked her buttocks, first one side, then the other. His hands always moving, kneading, they created sensations akin to those she’d felt on that last night at Clairmont. She felt cool air on her legs, so she knew she was lying fully exposed to him, but she didn’t care. She was well beyond caring about propriety with Hugh.

She bit her lip to keep from moaning out loud, but a small whimper of pleasure managed to escape from the back of her throat. How could he go on, not knowing, not understanding, what his touch was doing to her? Did she affect him so little? Was the touch of her intimate parts of no consequence to him?

Arousal churned in the pit of her stomach and she yearned for more. More touching, more closeness, a deeper intimacy.

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