The Highlander and the Wolf Princess by Marguerite Kaye

Author:Marguerite Kaye
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-08-16T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 4

‘Why did you deliberately mislead me?’ Conall’s hand touched the scar, tracing the slight rise, the tiny puckering of her skin. ‘Why?’

Her shivering response to his touch changed his mood abruptly from anger to awareness, from fury to desire. Tension crackled between them. His touch changed from probing to exploring. His hand moved up to cup the curve of her bottom. Sorcha clung to the saddle. Her bones felt as if they were doing the opposite of shifting. Melting. Dissolving. Leaving only hot, feverish, coursing blood to support her hot, feverish flesh.

‘You haven’t answered my question.’ His voice was like a honey-coated blade, sweetly lethal. His eyes were darker, his cheeks slashed with colour just as she could feel hers were. Both of his hands were on her bottom now, under her skirts, the palms smoothing over her tender flesh.

‘I wanted to stay a little longer,’ Sorcha confessed simply.

‘Why?’

His hands stroked down her flanks, then up the soft flesh of her inner thighs. Soft, rousing, knowing, their touch so at odds with the harshness of his expression, as if he would deny that it was him, touching her, caressing her.

‘Why, Sorcha?’ he demanded implacably.

‘I don’t really know. Last night…’

‘Last night I told you to be careful what you wished for.’

‘We stopped. You thanked me for stopping us.’

‘I meant it.’ And he had. He did. Though her nearness was making him giddy. Though his hands had a will of their own, his fingers stroking the delicate creases at the top of her thighs. The skin at their apex was smooth. Quite delightfully, wholly unexpectedly smooth. She was damp. Arousingly hot. Conall closed his eyes, trying to herd together all the excellent reasons why he should not be doing this, but they scattered like an unruly flock of sheep. He felt, rather than heard, her moan as his fingers stroked her. ‘I did mean it. I don’t want this,’ he said harshly, willing the lie to be true. ‘And you don’t want it, either,’ he added, willing her to agree, so that he would be forced to remove himself from her intoxicating presence.

She ought not to. It went against all that she thought she believed in. But since meeting this man, the foundations she had been so sure of seemed to have been quite undermined. Sorcha touched Conall’s cheek, her fingers rasping on the stubble. She twined a lock of his wild hair around her fingers. ‘Oh, but I do,’ she said fervently. Why would he not simply acknowledge this thing that existed between them, so real she could almost shape it? ‘I do, Conall. I don’t know why, but I know I do.’

He stared at her for a long tense moment, then he smiled—or it would have been a smile on any other man. ‘I believe I’ve already warned you to be careful what you wish for. Do you want me to kiss you again, Princess Sorcha?’

She had never felt so reckless nor so edgy. As little ago as last night, she had been so certain this was wrong.

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