The Bad Luck Wedding Night, Bad Luck Wedding series #5 (Bad Luck Abroad trilogy) by Geralyn Dawson
Authors: Geralyn Dawson
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chairs. "What's this?"
"Too many females in the house. A man needs a place to call his own, and I like to listen to the lap of waves upon the shore when I play cards."
Then the confounded man went and picked up the conversation where it had left off. "Sarah, don't you still want that houseful of children?"
She tossed him a look of annoyance, then shrugged. "My friends the McBrides have children to spare when I am plagued by maternal feelings."
"Seems like a poor substitute."
"The McBride children are special. I've told you stories about them over the years. The girls had a reputation for trouble when they were younger, but the boys..." She made a mock shudder. "They have far surpassed their sisters. I love them all dearly, but an hour spent with any of them goes a long way toward reminding one of the challenges of parenting."
He lifted a deck of cards from the center of the table and shuffled them. Fanning them out, he held the cards out to her, saying, "You run from challenges now, lass?"
"Hardly." She chose a card. The trey of clubs. "I'm here, aren't I?"
Nick laughed at that, then chose his own card. The queen of hearts. "Curse it all, I lost."
"Lost? What sort of card games do they play in Scotland? In my part of the world, a queen of hearts beats a trey of clubs handily."
"Aye, it's the same here. But you see, it was all in the terms of the bet. I told myself if you won, I wouldn't do this."
Before she quite knew what had happened, she found herself backed against a support post. As his gaze fixed on her mouth, memories flooded her mind and she was suddenly sixteen again. She recalled stolen kisses at the Literary Society meetings. Those moonlit walks beside the Trinity River.
Lost in the pleasure of the past, Sarah swallowed hard. His arms encircled her waist, and the glitter in his eyes took on a dangerous tint as he lowered his mouth to hers.
At the first touch of his lips, Sarah was sixteen no longer. She was here, in a lamp-lit hideaway beside a Highland loch being kissed by the man who had haunted her dreams for a decade. Only now she wasn't sixteen, and his kiss was so much more. He was so much more.
Nick had always made her go soft inside. This time he made her melt. The scent of him. The taste of him. The rough rasp of his tongue against hers. The fluttery sensation low in her stomach that his kisses brought to life. Her knees went weak, but he pressed his lower body against her, supporting her, holding her in place. The proof of his desire was hard against her.
Sarah whimpered even as heat roared through her. What was happening to her? What was he doing?
His teeth nipped at her bottom lip and she gasped. In response, Nick made a noise, a growl, deep in his throat, and the sound of it skittered through her blood like a current.
A yawning ache opened up inside her, centered in her loins. Its intensity frightened her and gave her the will to push against him. "No," she said. "Stop this. Stop it, Nick. I didn't come to Glencoltran for this."
He murmured a protest against her mouth, then slowly stepped away, his arms falling to his sides. His eyes gleamed warm and unrepentant as he shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Actually, I suspect you did. I suspect this might be exactly why you've come to me."
Emotions stampeded through her like cattle. Need and regret and yearning. Fear. Pulsing, numbing, heartbreaking fear. She'd trusted him before, and he'd broken her heart.
This time he could destroy her.
Her voice was shrill and tremulous as she scooted away from him. "This is a mistake. You never should have made me come here."
"Sarah..."
The fragrance in the air now struck her as fishy, and her stomach took a roll. She had turned to flee both the building and her husband when she heard him call, "Think about it. I would give you bonny children."
Sarah ran from the loch as if chased by a monster of the deep. Back in her room, she buried her face in his jacket, in his
"Too many females in the house. A man needs a place to call his own, and I like to listen to the lap of waves upon the shore when I play cards."
Then the confounded man went and picked up the conversation where it had left off. "Sarah, don't you still want that houseful of children?"
She tossed him a look of annoyance, then shrugged. "My friends the McBrides have children to spare when I am plagued by maternal feelings."
"Seems like a poor substitute."
"The McBride children are special. I've told you stories about them over the years. The girls had a reputation for trouble when they were younger, but the boys..." She made a mock shudder. "They have far surpassed their sisters. I love them all dearly, but an hour spent with any of them goes a long way toward reminding one of the challenges of parenting."
He lifted a deck of cards from the center of the table and shuffled them. Fanning them out, he held the cards out to her, saying, "You run from challenges now, lass?"
"Hardly." She chose a card. The trey of clubs. "I'm here, aren't I?"
Nick laughed at that, then chose his own card. The queen of hearts. "Curse it all, I lost."
"Lost? What sort of card games do they play in Scotland? In my part of the world, a queen of hearts beats a trey of clubs handily."
"Aye, it's the same here. But you see, it was all in the terms of the bet. I told myself if you won, I wouldn't do this."
Before she quite knew what had happened, she found herself backed against a support post. As his gaze fixed on her mouth, memories flooded her mind and she was suddenly sixteen again. She recalled stolen kisses at the Literary Society meetings. Those moonlit walks beside the Trinity River.
Lost in the pleasure of the past, Sarah swallowed hard. His arms encircled her waist, and the glitter in his eyes took on a dangerous tint as he lowered his mouth to hers.
At the first touch of his lips, Sarah was sixteen no longer. She was here, in a lamp-lit hideaway beside a Highland loch being kissed by the man who had haunted her dreams for a decade. Only now she wasn't sixteen, and his kiss was so much more. He was so much more.
Nick had always made her go soft inside. This time he made her melt. The scent of him. The taste of him. The rough rasp of his tongue against hers. The fluttery sensation low in her stomach that his kisses brought to life. Her knees went weak, but he pressed his lower body against her, supporting her, holding her in place. The proof of his desire was hard against her.
Sarah whimpered even as heat roared through her. What was happening to her? What was he doing?
His teeth nipped at her bottom lip and she gasped. In response, Nick made a noise, a growl, deep in his throat, and the sound of it skittered through her blood like a current.
A yawning ache opened up inside her, centered in her loins. Its intensity frightened her and gave her the will to push against him. "No," she said. "Stop this. Stop it, Nick. I didn't come to Glencoltran for this."
He murmured a protest against her mouth, then slowly stepped away, his arms falling to his sides. His eyes gleamed warm and unrepentant as he shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Actually, I suspect you did. I suspect this might be exactly why you've come to me."
Emotions stampeded through her like cattle. Need and regret and yearning. Fear. Pulsing, numbing, heartbreaking fear. She'd trusted him before, and he'd broken her heart.
This time he could destroy her.
Her voice was shrill and tremulous as she scooted away from him. "This is a mistake. You never should have made me come here."
"Sarah..."
The fragrance in the air now struck her as fishy, and her stomach took a roll. She had turned to flee both the building and her husband when she heard him call, "Think about it. I would give you bonny children."
Sarah ran from the loch as if chased by a monster of the deep. Back in her room, she buried her face in his jacket, in his
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