townhouse another really large home. But she didn’t wonder about it. She’d changed her opinion in that too, now liking the fact that he was so close.
Mary had been told not to wait up, and Kimberly managed to get out of her gown without too much difficulty, and without really noticing how much stumbling about she was doing.
She would have liked to continue daydreaming about Lachlan—they were such thrilling fantasies. But due to the amount of champagne she had consumed at the ball, she was asleep within moments of crawling into bed. So she was quite disoriented when she awoke a while later, so disoriented that she still thought she was at the ball, still standing on that balcony being kissed by Lachlan.
All the wonderful feelings she had experienced then came immediately to life again. But they were enhanced. She was being kissed quite passionately. And where the balcony had been cool, there was now so much heat.
It took a while before she realized that Lachlan was doing more than what one might expect from a kiss. His hands weren’t just holding her, they were roaming quite freely over her limbs, and encountering skin where satin should have been. That confused her, but she never got around to questioning it, since his hands continued to roam, sometimes evoking sensations so pleasant, she couldn’t hold back her delight, the sounds ofwhich encouraged him to explore further.
But there was something else present that had not been felt before, a vague kind of frustration she couldn’t pinpoint, but she knew, somehow, that all the wondrous things he was making her feel just weren’t going to be enough, that something even more delightful was missing and she wouldn’t be replete without it. And with that feeling a sense of urgency developed, as if her body were telling her, there is an end to this rainbow, and if you hurry, you just might find it .
The heat continued to escalate. Her gown seemed to stick to her, and yet…it no longer felt like satin. It seemed like she’d grown another layer of skin and it was heavy, weighing her down, hard and unyielding where she was usually soft. But his kiss continued to bedazzle her, allowing her no time to analyze what was happening to her, much less ask questions about it. And besides, she was no doubt imagining things, an unfortunate consequence of consuming too much champagne, which she was not at all used to.
And then she felt the pain, a quite sobering effect, that. And she realized two things with crystal clarity. She wasn’t on the Wigginses’ balcony, she was in her bed, where she ought to be. But Lachlan MacGregor was lying on top of her, and that wasn’t where he ought to be.
Her mind reeled with the implications, which in her innocence, she still didn’t fully grasp. She could only think to demand, “What are you doing here?”
He leaned up, but she could barely see him in the dark room, which had only a banked fire giving off no light to speak of. “Och, now, darlin’,is that no’ obvious? I’m making love tae you.”
“The devil you are,” she said indignantly and nearly snorted, “Without my permission? I don’t think so.”
“Aye, ’tis true,” Lachlan replied. “And sorry I am for your pain, but—”
“Pain?” she cut in, and then recalled it with a gasp. “Why did you hurt me?”
“It wasna intentional…well, it was—sort of, but ’twas unavoidable, and I swear tae you, lass, it willna happen again.”
“No, it won’t, because you’re leaving,” and she stressed, “This very second.”
“Now why would I be doing that, when ’tis no’ what either of us wants?”
“Do not presume to know what I want—”
“Och, but I do know. You’ve been telling me all night that you want me, darlin’, and right now I’m wanting you something powerful as well.”
To hear him say that sent a thrill through her, but he was confusing her too. She couldn’t recall telling him any such thing, and in fact, she couldn’t imagine
Mary had been told not to wait up, and Kimberly managed to get out of her gown without too much difficulty, and without really noticing how much stumbling about she was doing.
She would have liked to continue daydreaming about Lachlan—they were such thrilling fantasies. But due to the amount of champagne she had consumed at the ball, she was asleep within moments of crawling into bed. So she was quite disoriented when she awoke a while later, so disoriented that she still thought she was at the ball, still standing on that balcony being kissed by Lachlan.
All the wonderful feelings she had experienced then came immediately to life again. But they were enhanced. She was being kissed quite passionately. And where the balcony had been cool, there was now so much heat.
It took a while before she realized that Lachlan was doing more than what one might expect from a kiss. His hands weren’t just holding her, they were roaming quite freely over her limbs, and encountering skin where satin should have been. That confused her, but she never got around to questioning it, since his hands continued to roam, sometimes evoking sensations so pleasant, she couldn’t hold back her delight, the sounds ofwhich encouraged him to explore further.
But there was something else present that had not been felt before, a vague kind of frustration she couldn’t pinpoint, but she knew, somehow, that all the wondrous things he was making her feel just weren’t going to be enough, that something even more delightful was missing and she wouldn’t be replete without it. And with that feeling a sense of urgency developed, as if her body were telling her, there is an end to this rainbow, and if you hurry, you just might find it .
The heat continued to escalate. Her gown seemed to stick to her, and yet…it no longer felt like satin. It seemed like she’d grown another layer of skin and it was heavy, weighing her down, hard and unyielding where she was usually soft. But his kiss continued to bedazzle her, allowing her no time to analyze what was happening to her, much less ask questions about it. And besides, she was no doubt imagining things, an unfortunate consequence of consuming too much champagne, which she was not at all used to.
And then she felt the pain, a quite sobering effect, that. And she realized two things with crystal clarity. She wasn’t on the Wigginses’ balcony, she was in her bed, where she ought to be. But Lachlan MacGregor was lying on top of her, and that wasn’t where he ought to be.
Her mind reeled with the implications, which in her innocence, she still didn’t fully grasp. She could only think to demand, “What are you doing here?”
He leaned up, but she could barely see him in the dark room, which had only a banked fire giving off no light to speak of. “Och, now, darlin’,is that no’ obvious? I’m making love tae you.”
“The devil you are,” she said indignantly and nearly snorted, “Without my permission? I don’t think so.”
“Aye, ’tis true,” Lachlan replied. “And sorry I am for your pain, but—”
“Pain?” she cut in, and then recalled it with a gasp. “Why did you hurt me?”
“It wasna intentional…well, it was—sort of, but ’twas unavoidable, and I swear tae you, lass, it willna happen again.”
“No, it won’t, because you’re leaving,” and she stressed, “This very second.”
“Now why would I be doing that, when ’tis no’ what either of us wants?”
“Do not presume to know what I want—”
“Och, but I do know. You’ve been telling me all night that you want me, darlin’, and right now I’m wanting you something powerful as well.”
To hear him say that sent a thrill through her, but he was confusing her too. She couldn’t recall telling him any such thing, and in fact, she couldn’t imagine
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