Page 11 of Her Highland Destiny

The earth pulsed under her, almost undulating, encouraging her toward him. But there was something else. Heat rolled off him, like fire, threatening to consume her with the force of his own desire.

He wanted her.

The knowledge of his thoughts rolled in her mind and prickled through her with sharp, tangible awareness.

He ran a powerful hand down her back and clasped her bottom, nudging her hips against his where the heat of his manhood rose hard between them. “This is what ye want?”

Mortification blazed through her. What had she wanted? Not this. It was too much. Too soon. The force of his mind in hers, their shared need welling like fire between them. She had a purpose.

It was not the stone. She needed the stone.

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip and she slid her glance away, her emotions warring. He struggled too, somehow she sensed it.

“Ach, too much then?” He eased back and his touch smoothed over her waist. “Do ye want a lover's touch? Caresses and teasing?”

She trembled. She, who had waited for the honor of her role as Protector, who had learned how to best a man in combat and had trekked countless miles through the rugged Scottish terrain to find the stone, trembled.

The stone.

She needed the stone.

He wanted her to forget.

His palm cradled her jaw and he stared deep into her eyes. His pupils melted into the vast darkness of his irises. Beautiful.

She lost herself in the intensity of his stare, of his desire. His thumb swept over her lower lip and freed it from her teeth. He shook his head in chastisement and gently lowered his mouth to hers.

His beard tickled over her chin as his lips touched hers, warm and surprisingly soft. He tasted of the roasted rabbit he’d eaten at dinner and the sweetness of ale. His mouth closed over her lower lip in a delicate, savoring kiss - this man whose name she did not know, who had something she so desperately needed. She ought to be fighting him, not kissing him.

And yet she tilted her head to return the intimate gesture when the tip of his tongue swept against her mouth. She moaned softly and he grew more daring with his kiss, deepening it with his tongue and stoking the fires of her lust.

He could not stop himself from kissing her, wanting her at his side, and yet he hated himself for it.

She sensed betrayal lingering in his thoughts, so easily read it was as though he spoke to her.

Yet the lust was as apparent, if not more so. His emotions in her soul, his voice in her mind – all of it served only to heighten her own desire. She put her hands to his chest and found them shifting higher of their own volition, toward that lump beneath his chain mail. To the Heart of Scotland.

He jerked back and eyed her with suspicion. “Leave it.”

The connection between them fell away and she no longer could sense what he thought, nor could she feel the presence of his emotions.

“Who do you betray?” she asked.

His fingers ran lightly over the ground and his face reflected a furrow of concentration.

“You hated yourself for kissing me, but you couldn’t stop.” Cassandra frowned. “You are betraying someone. Are you wed?”

“I was.” He put his palm to the ground and studied his hand. “Ye can read thoughts as well?”

As well? He had powers as she did? “Only when you kissed me. I could hear what was in your mind, and sense it.” Her cheeks went hot. “You knew my thoughts, didn’t you?”

A corner of his mouth lifted in a cocky grin in response. “I knew ye would welcome my kiss.”

Cassandra pressed her lips together at the still-warm sensation tingling over her mouth.

“I know ye crave more still.” His gaze rose from the ground and met hers. “How did ye make the earth sing? Is that what ye can do?”

Fergus didn’t need the woman’s answer spoken aloud when her thoughts registered the answer for him. They came at him in a vivid rush.