My One True Highlander by Suzanne Enoch

Author:Suzanne Enoch
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press

Chapter Ten

Marjorie awoke to the sound of a soft knock on her door. For a moment she waited to hear the click of the key in the lock, before she remembered that she had the key. Sitting up, she reached beneath her pillow for the cold iron.

Pulling the coverlet around her shoulders and slipping into her walking shoes, she yawned and crossed the room to the door. “Who is it?” she asked, leaning against the hard oak.

“It’s me, lass,” Graeme’s low voice returned.

“What time is it?” The sky beyond the curtains remained black, as it would until nearly nine o’clock in the morning here, but it felt early. Very early.

“It’s half five. Open the door before I wake the rest of the hoose.”

“Come back at a more decent hour. A lady doesn’t receive callers before sunrise.” It was about time she was the one deciding when her door should open, and for whom. And the fact that she could practically hear his teeth clenching made even this small victory all the sweeter.

“I brought ye a gift,” he said after a moment.

“You may show it to me at breakfast.”

“It’s likely to spoil before then,” Graeme returned.

Spoil? Had he brought her an iced cream? Or a rare, night-blooming flower? Neither would be appropriate, considering that she was not his guest and he was not some potential beau, but the idea of him finding something she might enjoy and then not even waiting for dawn to bring it to her … Her pulse shivered a little. “Very well,” she said, trying to sound reluctant.

She turned the key and pulled open the door. And her heart skittered again. In the hallway’s dim lamplight a scruff of dark whiskers shadowed the lower half of his face, softening the hard, precise line of his jaw. His hair hung long and damp around his face, disarming and enticing all at the same time. As her wandering gaze lowered past an old, dark shirt and coat, she paused again.

He wore a kilt. A few of his men did, as she’d seen from the window before he’d chained her away from it, but this was the first time he’d worn one in her presence. The red, green, and black plaid suited him somehow, fit the wilder, more dangerous, more rugged part of him that he generally hid behind a grin and a lifted eyebrow.

“Do ye want to know what’s underneath it?” he murmured, and caught her mouth in a kiss that scratched her lips and shivered all the way down her spine.

She twined her fingers into his lapels, pulling herself close against him. Oh, it was so, so wrong, and she’d never experienced anything nearly as exhilarating. Was this her gift? She couldn’t—shouldn’t—accept, but for heaven’s sake she wanted to. What did it matter? She was ruined anyway. Everyone would whisper behind her back that she’d shared a bed with him, so she might as well do it.

Before she wanted him to, he broke the kiss. “Ye’re a damned tempting lass, yer highness,” he whispered, cupping her cheeks in his hands.

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