fingers to stop her nervous movements. “The swelling had gone down. Ye should wear me wedding band.”
Her mouth opened then shut, apparently, preferring not to argue. “Yes, well I wanted to discuss my brooch.”
“Brooch?”
“Yes.” Her voice lowered to barely above a whisper. “When a stranger found me beside I-44, I possessed three things. This ring.” Her gazed dropped to where his thumb stroked her knuckle near the silver band. “A gown.” Her gaze drifted toward the wardrobe. “And an odd brooch.”
His finger stilled. “Margaret, ye cannae still believe ye came from the future. I’ve seen ye ride o’er the moors on a day when the sun shines so brightly ye think the green hills of Scotland would blind ye, and ye told me how ye loved the smell of heather as it crushed beneath yer horse’s hooves. Scotland be yer home.”
Reared back into her chair, she jerked her hand from his. “Nae. I dinnae belong here.”
“Aye, lass, ye do. Ye be me wife.”
Icy fear clutched his heart as the chill between them intensified. Her expression wavered from annoyance, to defiance, and then fixed on anger as she lurched to her feet.
“Nae.”
“Aye.”
He vaulted from the chair and yanked her into his arms. Standing this close, his gaze dropped downward to the gaping neckline of her nightdress. The soft lure of her exposed breasts was more than he could resist. Cupping her face in his hands, he tilted her head back, and ground his mouth against hers in a hard, fierce kiss. His mind warned him to be gentle, but his heart pushed him to prove to her that she belonged with him, to force her to understand nothing could separate them.
When she remained stiff and ridged her unyielding resistance penetrated his desperation. He softened the kiss. His tongue stroked the tight crease of her lips until they parted. The moment she relaxed and leaned against him, he cupped her sweet backside and shaped her body to his, wedging one knee between her legs.
This is what he wanted, needed: her soft and pliant in his arms. He grew rigid against the soft mound of her belly. Lifting her into his arms, he sat down in the chair with her across his thighs. When she squirmed her bottom deeper into his lap his shaft grew harder.
With one tug, the ribbon that tied her gown together unraveled, revealing the white globes beneath. Lost in a haze of passion, he tugged the gown down until her breasts spilled free. He licked his way down her throat. She moaned. Encouraged, he cupped her breast, teased the hard nubbin with his thumb, and then captured the peaked nipple with his mouth and sucked. Her head fell back against his arm, and her long hair flowed in a tawny cascade to the floor. The slender curve of her back arched, soft hands tangled in his hair as she pulled him closer. Soft mewling sounds emitted from her throat.
Eagerly he groped for the hem of her nightdress and his knuckles grazed the smooth skin of her leg. His heart pounded in anticipation. He palmed her knee then moved higher up her thigh. The velvet softness of her warm skin drove him crazy and his body quivered. His arousal pulsated against his belly and his breath came in labored gasp. His fingers had just wormed past the last barrier of her underclothes to find the treasure he sought when she grabbed his wrist.
“Nae, Liam.”
Her words doused his desire. He struggled to yank back the emotions rushing through him on the verge of breaking free. How could she gainsay the desire that waxed hot and strong between them? Her face wore the flush of passion and by the rapid way her breast rose and fell, he knew their lovemaking had affected her as deeply as it had him.
“How can ye deny us, goal .” By her adamant expression, he knew tonight would not end the way he’d planned. He restrained the natural urge of his body to continue.
She sat up and pushed his hand out from under her gown. Shaky fingers fumbled with the lacing at her neck.
“I know you believe I am
Her mouth opened then shut, apparently, preferring not to argue. “Yes, well I wanted to discuss my brooch.”
“Brooch?”
“Yes.” Her voice lowered to barely above a whisper. “When a stranger found me beside I-44, I possessed three things. This ring.” Her gazed dropped to where his thumb stroked her knuckle near the silver band. “A gown.” Her gaze drifted toward the wardrobe. “And an odd brooch.”
His finger stilled. “Margaret, ye cannae still believe ye came from the future. I’ve seen ye ride o’er the moors on a day when the sun shines so brightly ye think the green hills of Scotland would blind ye, and ye told me how ye loved the smell of heather as it crushed beneath yer horse’s hooves. Scotland be yer home.”
Reared back into her chair, she jerked her hand from his. “Nae. I dinnae belong here.”
“Aye, lass, ye do. Ye be me wife.”
Icy fear clutched his heart as the chill between them intensified. Her expression wavered from annoyance, to defiance, and then fixed on anger as she lurched to her feet.
“Nae.”
“Aye.”
He vaulted from the chair and yanked her into his arms. Standing this close, his gaze dropped downward to the gaping neckline of her nightdress. The soft lure of her exposed breasts was more than he could resist. Cupping her face in his hands, he tilted her head back, and ground his mouth against hers in a hard, fierce kiss. His mind warned him to be gentle, but his heart pushed him to prove to her that she belonged with him, to force her to understand nothing could separate them.
When she remained stiff and ridged her unyielding resistance penetrated his desperation. He softened the kiss. His tongue stroked the tight crease of her lips until they parted. The moment she relaxed and leaned against him, he cupped her sweet backside and shaped her body to his, wedging one knee between her legs.
This is what he wanted, needed: her soft and pliant in his arms. He grew rigid against the soft mound of her belly. Lifting her into his arms, he sat down in the chair with her across his thighs. When she squirmed her bottom deeper into his lap his shaft grew harder.
With one tug, the ribbon that tied her gown together unraveled, revealing the white globes beneath. Lost in a haze of passion, he tugged the gown down until her breasts spilled free. He licked his way down her throat. She moaned. Encouraged, he cupped her breast, teased the hard nubbin with his thumb, and then captured the peaked nipple with his mouth and sucked. Her head fell back against his arm, and her long hair flowed in a tawny cascade to the floor. The slender curve of her back arched, soft hands tangled in his hair as she pulled him closer. Soft mewling sounds emitted from her throat.
Eagerly he groped for the hem of her nightdress and his knuckles grazed the smooth skin of her leg. His heart pounded in anticipation. He palmed her knee then moved higher up her thigh. The velvet softness of her warm skin drove him crazy and his body quivered. His arousal pulsated against his belly and his breath came in labored gasp. His fingers had just wormed past the last barrier of her underclothes to find the treasure he sought when she grabbed his wrist.
“Nae, Liam.”
Her words doused his desire. He struggled to yank back the emotions rushing through him on the verge of breaking free. How could she gainsay the desire that waxed hot and strong between them? Her face wore the flush of passion and by the rapid way her breast rose and fell, he knew their lovemaking had affected her as deeply as it had him.
“How can ye deny us, goal .” By her adamant expression, he knew tonight would not end the way he’d planned. He restrained the natural urge of his body to continue.
She sat up and pushed his hand out from under her gown. Shaky fingers fumbled with the lacing at her neck.
“I know you believe I am
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