Tangled Up with the Highlander (Return of the Highlanders Book 2) by Julie Johnstone

Author:Julie Johnstone [Johnstone, Julie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Darbyshire Publishing
Published: 2024-08-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Sorcha awoke with a start, and for a moment, she had no notion of where she was, but as the last bit of lingering sleep lifted, two realizations hit her: She was in the makeshift shelter Alasdair had made for her, and she was in his arms. She didn’t move a muscle. She actually held her breath for a moment out of fear that he’d wake, and it embarrassed her to think what she would say. Why was he sleeping with his arms around her?

She wasn’t surprised he was in the shelter. He’d stated his intentions and the fact that he did not trust her, but she was more than surprised he was so close. She’d never been anywhere near this close to any man. The closest she’d ever been to the hairier sex was when patrons of the inn had grabbed her without consent. That had infuriated her. That had made her body rigid and her breath come quick in fright.

This felt different. This felt safe. Of course, he was asleep, and all men were harmless when lost in the dream world. It was entirely too bad there was not a magic potion to put men to sleep when you wished. She might consider marrying if there were, so she could have bairns of her own.

Oh! She bit her lip on her errant thought. She rarely let her mind wander to her hidden desires, but just now, her secret longings had burst out from the cage she kept them in and reared their heads. She tried to shove them back inside, but it was no use. Her one lingering doubt about never marrying was that she’d never have bairns.

Of course, she knew it was possible to have a bairn without having a husband, but that was not something she’d subject a child to. To be brought up a bastard was a harsh life, indeed. She’d honestly never considered that she’d be missing anything else by not taking a husband, but she’d never experienced the tug of desire she felt around Alasdair before. Now, as she lay with his arms around her and a sense of safety within her, her belly tightened and her breasts grew full, and that sharp, pleasurably painful yearning pulsed to life in her core and between her thighs. She bit her lip at the sad notion that she may never feel this safe, this protected, again. Though it was surely a false sense, and this much yearning could be fulfilled if a husband knew how to properly “worship at a woman’s temple.”

She didn’t completely know all the ways to worship or exactly what the phrase even meant, but she had some ideas. She’d heard women at the market gabbing about their temples being worshipped, and she’d seen enough to know it involved kissing and caressing, and a man thrusting and grunting while the woman groaned and thrashed. One night she and Ada had snuck into the stables and stumbled upon on Dougray with a

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