little hard to endure.
Ewan gently grasped her by the chin and, with his other hand, wiped away a tear of laughter that glistened upon her flushed cheek. He fixed his gaze upon her mouth. When she licked her lips, he softly cursed his own weakness even as he slid his hand to the back of her slender neck and tugged her closer.
Just one kiss, he told himself. Surely he had the strength of will to steal one kiss without losing all control. The moment his lips touched hers, however, he began to doubt his own resolve. The sweet warmth of her mouth seemed to rush through his blood straight to his groin. When she parted her lips beneath his, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close as he greedily accepted that silent invitation.
Fiona felt as if she was melting from the heat of her own desire. She eagerly returned his kiss, making no attempt to control or hide the passion he stirred within her. When he ended the kiss, she tried yet failed to catch her breath as he kissed her throat, her cheeks, and the hollow behind her ear. She trembled and gasped when he stroked her breast.
As he began to kiss her again, he shifted their position until they were both on their sides. Fiona took quick advantage of the change, stroking his back and thrilling to the feel of his smooth, warm skin. Slowly, she slid her hand beneath the bedcovers to caress his taut buttocks and swallowed the groan that escaped him. A heartbeat later she found herself pushed away and Ewan turned onto his back.
Shaken and chilled by the abrupt ending of the embrace, she sat up and looked at Ewan. He had one arm draped across his eyes so it was difficult to read his expression. There was a slight flush upon his cheeks and he was breathing as raggedly as she was, however. Those had to be signs of a passion as strong as her own. Or signs of pain, she suddenly thought with a horrified glance at his wounded leg.
“Ewan,” she began, appalled that she could have so completely forgotten that hewas injured.
“Go away.”
Fiona felt all her concern for him disappear in an instant, to be replaced by a pain so sharp she nearly cried out. He was not suffering from passion or pain, but regret, perhaps even shame. It was not passion or pain putting a flush upon his cheeks and making his breathing unsteady, but disgust. Whether it was with her or himself did not really matter.
“I think it would be best if Mab tended me from now on,” he said.
“As ye wish.”
Picking up the tray she had brought in, she left him. She wanted to run, to find somewhere to hide, but pride kept her from doing so. It did not please her to meet with Gregor only a few steps away from Ewan’s door. The way his eyes narrowed as he looked at her told her that she was not hiding her tattered emotions as well as she had thought. She smiled her gratitude as a passing Bonnie relieved her of the tray, then clasped her hands behind her back,
“I left Simon sleeping,” Gregor said, still watching her closely.
“Ah, good,” Fiona replied. “Getting a lot of rest is the best medicine there is.”
Gregor nodded. “Is something wrong? Ye are looking a wee bit pale and wan.”
“I am just weary, ’tis all. I believe I will seek my bed and have a wee rest myself.” Fiona started to walk around him. “If ye would excuse me?”
After watching her hurry away, Gregor scowled at the door to Ewan’s bedchamber. He had not intended to visit Ewan, but was now determined to do so. If he judged the look upon Fiona’s face correctly, his brother and laird had just delivered that lass a sound blow. It appeared he might be forced to knock some sense into Ewan’s thick skull a lot sooner than he had anticipated.
The moment he stepped into Ewan’s bedchamber and shut the door behind him, Gregor demanded, “What did ye do to the lass, ye fool?” He marched up to the bed and glared at Ewan, who did not look any happier than Fiona had.
Ewan sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. “Why would
Ewan gently grasped her by the chin and, with his other hand, wiped away a tear of laughter that glistened upon her flushed cheek. He fixed his gaze upon her mouth. When she licked her lips, he softly cursed his own weakness even as he slid his hand to the back of her slender neck and tugged her closer.
Just one kiss, he told himself. Surely he had the strength of will to steal one kiss without losing all control. The moment his lips touched hers, however, he began to doubt his own resolve. The sweet warmth of her mouth seemed to rush through his blood straight to his groin. When she parted her lips beneath his, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close as he greedily accepted that silent invitation.
Fiona felt as if she was melting from the heat of her own desire. She eagerly returned his kiss, making no attempt to control or hide the passion he stirred within her. When he ended the kiss, she tried yet failed to catch her breath as he kissed her throat, her cheeks, and the hollow behind her ear. She trembled and gasped when he stroked her breast.
As he began to kiss her again, he shifted their position until they were both on their sides. Fiona took quick advantage of the change, stroking his back and thrilling to the feel of his smooth, warm skin. Slowly, she slid her hand beneath the bedcovers to caress his taut buttocks and swallowed the groan that escaped him. A heartbeat later she found herself pushed away and Ewan turned onto his back.
Shaken and chilled by the abrupt ending of the embrace, she sat up and looked at Ewan. He had one arm draped across his eyes so it was difficult to read his expression. There was a slight flush upon his cheeks and he was breathing as raggedly as she was, however. Those had to be signs of a passion as strong as her own. Or signs of pain, she suddenly thought with a horrified glance at his wounded leg.
“Ewan,” she began, appalled that she could have so completely forgotten that hewas injured.
“Go away.”
Fiona felt all her concern for him disappear in an instant, to be replaced by a pain so sharp she nearly cried out. He was not suffering from passion or pain, but regret, perhaps even shame. It was not passion or pain putting a flush upon his cheeks and making his breathing unsteady, but disgust. Whether it was with her or himself did not really matter.
“I think it would be best if Mab tended me from now on,” he said.
“As ye wish.”
Picking up the tray she had brought in, she left him. She wanted to run, to find somewhere to hide, but pride kept her from doing so. It did not please her to meet with Gregor only a few steps away from Ewan’s door. The way his eyes narrowed as he looked at her told her that she was not hiding her tattered emotions as well as she had thought. She smiled her gratitude as a passing Bonnie relieved her of the tray, then clasped her hands behind her back,
“I left Simon sleeping,” Gregor said, still watching her closely.
“Ah, good,” Fiona replied. “Getting a lot of rest is the best medicine there is.”
Gregor nodded. “Is something wrong? Ye are looking a wee bit pale and wan.”
“I am just weary, ’tis all. I believe I will seek my bed and have a wee rest myself.” Fiona started to walk around him. “If ye would excuse me?”
After watching her hurry away, Gregor scowled at the door to Ewan’s bedchamber. He had not intended to visit Ewan, but was now determined to do so. If he judged the look upon Fiona’s face correctly, his brother and laird had just delivered that lass a sound blow. It appeared he might be forced to knock some sense into Ewan’s thick skull a lot sooner than he had anticipated.
The moment he stepped into Ewan’s bedchamber and shut the door behind him, Gregor demanded, “What did ye do to the lass, ye fool?” He marched up to the bed and glared at Ewan, who did not look any happier than Fiona had.
Ewan sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. “Why would
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