slacken, not even the slightest amount, but his eyes narrowed. Clarrisa glared straight back at him, trying to master the urge to giggle. She was far past the age of giggling, for heaven’s sake, but he saw the amusement glittering in her eyes, and she watched his blue eyes light up with something very similar.
“I was perfectly capable of managing the mare.”
“Is that so, lass?” He slid his hand up her back to press her torso against his. “If ye are so adept, why did yer mare take off? A competent rider would have kept the animal under control.”
“A capable man would have held his stallion in check, or was that your way of having an excuse to handle me?” She was being bold and had no idea where she’d learned to talk so brazenly, only that it excited her.
His eyes flashed with something that looked very much like he was rising to meet her challenge. The arm around her tightened, and she suddenly noticed they were out of sight of his men.
“If ye understand what being handled means, Clarrisa, I assure ye, I have only begun to handle ye.”
His voice was low, but the promise was clear as a church bell. His attention lowered to her lips, setting off a longing inside her to have done with arguing with him.
Kissing him promised far more pleasure.
She shook off the wicked thoughts. “Enough. You appeared beside me like a specter, and it was your stallion that misbehaved by attempting to bite my mare. Yet I am not surprised, for it takes after the uncivilized nature of its master.”
She offered him a soft laugh, but it sounded nervous. He didn’t join her in amusement this time; his eyes darkened, making her feel too hot to remain so close to him. The heat would soon affect her reasoning.
“Aye, I’m uncivilized, and that’s a truth I’m proud of, but I do admit to enjoying handling ye.”
She shouldn’t have liked his confession so much.
She froze, her fingertips resting lightly against his chest. She noticed how much she enjoyed touching him. Her stare settled on his, those blue eyes seeming deeper and more intense than she’d noticed before. Her belly twisted with nervous excitement as a quiver rippled across her skin. His shirt and doublet were open at the neck, allowing the garment to split and bare his skin. She moved her hand up so that two of her fingertips were resting on his warm skin. Such a simple touch, yet she felt it so intensely her breath caught.
“You should put me down.” Her voice was a mere whisper, the words feeling as though they were choking her.
“That is nae what either of us wants, Clarrisa.”
He smoothed his hand up her spine, sending out a flood of sensation. She was keenly aware of him. Time seemed to slow, ensuring she might experience every tiny motion. Details flooded her, the way his fingers cupped her nape one at a time, until he was gently gripping it. She heard the way his breathing deepened and became rough. She saw the way his nostrils flared slightly before his attention slipped to her lips and hunger glittered in his eyes.
“Ye want me to kiss ye.”
“Do not, Broen.” She turned her head away. “It isn’t right.”
She was pleading, but not because she feared he’d take what he wanted. It would be so much simpler if he did, easier for her to absolve herself of responsibility.
But it would make her a coward.
He blew out a harsh breath and used his grip on her neck to turn her face back toward his. Anticipation raked its nails down her spine. When she looked back into his eyes, it was clear she was inexperienced in the ways of passion, for what she’d witnessed before had only been the beginnings of hunger. Now desire blazed in full force in his eyes, and she recognized it in spite of all the times her uncle’s men had shepherded her away from situations where she might have learned about passion.
“What is nae right is selling ye to a man twice yer age and expecting ye to give him a son without him giving ye the respect of wedding. A
“I was perfectly capable of managing the mare.”
“Is that so, lass?” He slid his hand up her back to press her torso against his. “If ye are so adept, why did yer mare take off? A competent rider would have kept the animal under control.”
“A capable man would have held his stallion in check, or was that your way of having an excuse to handle me?” She was being bold and had no idea where she’d learned to talk so brazenly, only that it excited her.
His eyes flashed with something that looked very much like he was rising to meet her challenge. The arm around her tightened, and she suddenly noticed they were out of sight of his men.
“If ye understand what being handled means, Clarrisa, I assure ye, I have only begun to handle ye.”
His voice was low, but the promise was clear as a church bell. His attention lowered to her lips, setting off a longing inside her to have done with arguing with him.
Kissing him promised far more pleasure.
She shook off the wicked thoughts. “Enough. You appeared beside me like a specter, and it was your stallion that misbehaved by attempting to bite my mare. Yet I am not surprised, for it takes after the uncivilized nature of its master.”
She offered him a soft laugh, but it sounded nervous. He didn’t join her in amusement this time; his eyes darkened, making her feel too hot to remain so close to him. The heat would soon affect her reasoning.
“Aye, I’m uncivilized, and that’s a truth I’m proud of, but I do admit to enjoying handling ye.”
She shouldn’t have liked his confession so much.
She froze, her fingertips resting lightly against his chest. She noticed how much she enjoyed touching him. Her stare settled on his, those blue eyes seeming deeper and more intense than she’d noticed before. Her belly twisted with nervous excitement as a quiver rippled across her skin. His shirt and doublet were open at the neck, allowing the garment to split and bare his skin. She moved her hand up so that two of her fingertips were resting on his warm skin. Such a simple touch, yet she felt it so intensely her breath caught.
“You should put me down.” Her voice was a mere whisper, the words feeling as though they were choking her.
“That is nae what either of us wants, Clarrisa.”
He smoothed his hand up her spine, sending out a flood of sensation. She was keenly aware of him. Time seemed to slow, ensuring she might experience every tiny motion. Details flooded her, the way his fingers cupped her nape one at a time, until he was gently gripping it. She heard the way his breathing deepened and became rough. She saw the way his nostrils flared slightly before his attention slipped to her lips and hunger glittered in his eyes.
“Ye want me to kiss ye.”
“Do not, Broen.” She turned her head away. “It isn’t right.”
She was pleading, but not because she feared he’d take what he wanted. It would be so much simpler if he did, easier for her to absolve herself of responsibility.
But it would make her a coward.
He blew out a harsh breath and used his grip on her neck to turn her face back toward his. Anticipation raked its nails down her spine. When she looked back into his eyes, it was clear she was inexperienced in the ways of passion, for what she’d witnessed before had only been the beginnings of hunger. Now desire blazed in full force in his eyes, and she recognized it in spite of all the times her uncle’s men had shepherded her away from situations where she might have learned about passion.
“What is nae right is selling ye to a man twice yer age and expecting ye to give him a son without him giving ye the respect of wedding. A
Similar Books
