The Laird's Kiss by Eliza Knight

Author:Eliza Knight
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Knight Media, LLC

11

People were confusing. Men even more so, especially when they got ideas into their heads. Rhiannon could not be one hundred percent certain what had gotten into Ian’s, but she did have a tiny inkling.

The man was mad.

Mad for her, she suspected. To be fair, she was mad for him too. Their kiss, the way he’d touched her, the slide of his body on hers, the way it had felt to have her hips wrapped around his, the hardness of his arousal as he pressed against her most intimate place. The sounds of his breathing, the low growl of approval when she’d kissed him back, still echoed in her ears. All of what had happened haunted her the entire day. That was why she’d been unable to stop talking about anything and everything if only to distract herself from…herself.

And, it appeared, she was better at hiding her feelings than he was. The man was positively a grouch.

Aye, she was way better.

Ian stomped around their camp; before that, he’d stomped every time they stopped. As if the act of stomping would squash his inner turmoil. He even made it seem as if his horse were stomping as they trotted along their course.

Poor man was positively riddled with guilt or regret, though she wasn’t sure why because as much as he had ravaged—a word she rather liked—her, she had ravaged him as much. Or maybe that was the issue—he wished he’d not done it. Which would be surprising given his enthusiasm.

Not since her fling with the lad ages ago had she felt so…elated. As if she were floating, and her body sizzled. When she saw him, smelled him, she wanted to touch him. To be touched. Every inch of her tingled, reaching, wanting.

At first, she’d chalked it up to the excitement of adventure. The thrill of something new. Maybe even a little bit to falling for the man who saved her. After all, there had to be some feelings for the man who was taking her away from an unwanted future. And he was very handsome. His body was rock solid, which seemed unfair to any other man.

But his body, or even the striking cut of his jawbone, wasn’t why she liked Ian. Why she wanted him to kiss her. It was the way he looked at her—eyes full of interest and admiration, a little teasing and even better when they flashed desire. The way he talked. The way he joked. The way he respected her. The way he nodded with approval when she threw her dagger. Ian made her feel like a real and whole person, which wasn’t always the way it was for women. She knew that, just as every other woman did. Just the way women also knew that it was their lot. They were the birthers of babes, the caretakers of the men, the runners of the household. How dare she dream of anything more? And yet, Ian seemed to commend her for being different.

So, besides his incredible body and being the kind of kisser that made her toes curl, Ian made her feel good on the inside too.

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