Highlanders Never Surrender (Wicked Willful Highlanders Book 2) by Julie Johnstone

Author:Julie Johnstone [Johnstone, Julie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, romance
Publisher: Darbyshire Publishing LLC
Published: 2023-08-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Brigid woke with a horrid taste in her mouth and a ravenous hunger. She opened her eyes to sunlight streaming into the room, and it took her a moment to remember she was in her new bedchamber at the MacLean stronghold. She lay there, trying to recall how she’d gotten into bed, but the only memories she could pull up of the night before were of Cormac teasing her about her appetite, a warm, fuzzy feeling consuming her when he smiled and two dimples appeared on his handsome face, and then her feeling ill and retching. Other than that, there was only blank space where her memories should have been. How had she gotten to her bedchamber and into her bed for that matter? On that thought, she lifted her coverlet and gasped at the site of her in nightclothes. Who had undressed her?

“It’s good to see ye awake finally.”

She yelped at the sound of Cormac’s voice from the doorway. He leaned into the door with his hands above him, gripping the ledge. He had nothing on but braies which clung to his hip bones. His chest and stomach, bands of muscle, glistened with sweat, and his dark hair was wet as if he’d just bathed and curled at the nape of his neck. His eyes appeared startlingly blue against his sun-kissed skin, and they held what looked like concern to her.

“What do ye mean finally?”

“’Tis late in the afternoon.”

She had never slept to late in the afternoon in her life. “How did I get to my bedchamber from the great hall?” she asked, her voice a peculiar raspy sound which must have come from her sickness.

“I carried ye,” he said, shifting ever so slightly forward as if he were stretching out his muscles, which, she could not help but notice, were exceptionally well formed. His upper arms curved nicely, and as her gaze trailed downward with a will of its own, she noted that his stance emphasized the slimness of his hips and the force of his thighs.

Her throat went suddenly dry, but she did not think it had a thing to do with the fact that she had been ill. She had never felt desire, but her instincts told her this tightening in her belly all the way to her core, this ache between her legs, this spike in her heartbeat, was desire for this man before her. And then his words hit her, and she gawked.

“Ye carried me?”

“Aye.” The corners of his mouth tugged up into a smile.

“Did ye . . . did ye undress me?”

“Nay, lass, friends do nae undress friends.”

Good heaven, she was on fire. His gaze held a sensuality she was certain he did not wish it to, but nevertheless, it was there. She pulled her coverlet up to her chin, feeling wanton and exposed at the same moment.

“So, we’re friends now, are we?”

He nodded, a serious look settling on his handsome face. “It was nae well-done of me to tell ye we could nae be friends.

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