Highland Vow by Hannah Howell Page A

the curves any man could want. And yet he thought she had to be one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, in face, in body, and in spirit. He supposed most men would excuse him for wanting her so much and probably think him completely mad for his reluctance to take what she offered him so freely.
    “I find I am not the honorable mon I thought I was,” he said, finally meeting her searching gaze.
    “Why? Because ye didnae hold firm to your vows?” she asked.
    He had not even considered that, but was loath to admit it, so he simply ignored her question. “I have let my lusts rule me. I have bedded a virgin maid, and sweet Jesu, I want to do so again. Yet I am not free. I travel to a woman I have been bound to for ten years and this time I may weel be able to save her from further ill use by her family. After all these years, I may weel be able to fulfill the vow I once made and marry her.” He hesitated and dragged his fingers through his hair.
    Elspeth prayed he would cease speaking of Isabel, for she was tempted to scream at him to open his cursed eyes and actually look at the woman he was wasting his life on. “As I have told ye before, ye fret too much.”
    “Angel, I want you. I dinnae think there is a part of me that doesnae ache for you. And now that I ken what we can share together, that hunger only grows stronger. ’Tisnae right, for I can offer ye naught but my passion. Ye deserve more. If I give into this hunger, I will just be using ye to slack it, for I ken I cannae give ye any more and I ken that it must end. That is wrong, Elspeth, and yet I am ashamed to confess that I am verra eager to be wrong.”
    “Ah, poor Cormac, how ye do love to torment yourself. I have said that I want ye. I have told ye that I burn for you. Ye have told me the truth: Ye cannae offer me any more than passion. I prefer to think of what we can share as a pleasant thing, a joyous sharing. If ye wish to think of it as using me, then, fine, use me.” She let go of the blanket.
    Cormac watched the blanket slide down her body and pool at her feet. He lifted his gaze back to her and drew his breath in so sharply he nearly choked himself. The night rail she wore somehow both concealed and revealed. It was so thin he could see the outline of her slender body yet cleverly placed lace kept certain intimate areas almost modestly concealed. He tore his gaze from her body and looked at her face just as she smiled. It was a smile of sensual invitation that heated his blood yet there was the hint of mischievousness there as well. She knew exactly what she was doing to him. The knowledge of what he could do to her as well was all that kept that from pinching his pride.
    “Where did ye get that?” he asked as he quickly shed his doublet and shirt.
    “From a wee shop in the town. Do ye like it?”
    “’Tis the devil’s own creation made to tempt a mon into lustful sin.”
    “I should hope so, for I paid a fair price for it.”
    “Wretched lass,” he murmured, his voice trembling with laughter as he finished shedding his clothes.
    The way Elspeth stared at him made him feel both weak with desire and not just a little vain. She made no attempt to hide how much she appreciated the look of him. He found himself thinking it was just how Isabel looked at him and then frowned, for he suddenly knew that was not true. There was always a measuring quality in Isabel’s gaze, as if she compared him to someone. That thought so disturbed him that he quickly banished it and turned his full attention back to Elspeth. Although he could offer her no future, he vowed that, for whatever time they would have together, he would be solely hers in body and in mind.
    “My maiden dreams ne’er came near to matching the beauty of you,” she said, reaching out to boldly stroke his hardened staff.
    “Ye had maidenly dreams about me?” Cormac clenched his hands at his sides as he fought for enough control to enjoy her touch for a while.
    “Oh, aye. Ye