Page 10 of Deception of a Highlander

White-hot desire flashed through him and singed the fraying edges of his control.

The woman could tempt a damn saint.

He trailed the back of his hand down her cheek, and his resistance cracked. Her skin was silk against his calloused thumb. He lowered his head to hers and let the heat of her lips whisper against his.

The scent of roses tugged at his crumbling resolve and baited his lust. She would be soft and luscious beneath his mouth.

It was only a kiss, but without a doubt, he knew the heat of her mouth against his would only serve to whet his desire further. He would not be able to still his hands from gliding over what was hidden from view or from pulling her against the parts of him she made ache.

With an incredible act of willpower, he straightened, released her, and took a step back to address her from a safer distance lest he give in to temptation.

“If ye still want to come, meet me here tomorrow morning at nine o’clock, aye?”

He turned to leave when her hand on his forearm stopped him.

“Why did you not kiss me?” she asked.

Kieran studied her face and desire tugged at him once more. “Do ye always get what ye want, Mariel?”

Her eyes trailed the length of his body with a shrewd expression. “Only if I know how to get it.”

With a swish of her skirts, she turned and walked away, leaving him staring after her with the hollow ache of regret.

* * *

Mariel’s gaze scoured the crowds swarming the manicured lawns of the palace while she waited for Jane to bring the two small traveling bags. Nervous anticipation churned her stomach. She would see Kieran soon.

Excitement had been the culprit of her lack of sleep the night before. She had been haunted by the way he’d brought his lips so close to hers and the way he’d teased her with a kiss that did not follow. His scent lingered on her skin and tangled with the memory of his warm hands around her waist.

Mariel shielded the sun from her eyes with the flat of her hand and looked over the sea of faces once more, confirming what she already knew. Kieran was not there.

A young, gawky squire strolled past her. She waved her hands. “Oh, excuse me,” she called.

He wheeled around and gazed at her through a fluff of blond hair. “Yes, my lady?”

“Have you seen Laird MacDonald?” The boy probably didn’t know who Kieran was, but perhaps he could direct her to someone who did.

The boy’s brow furrowed for a moment. “Do you mean the man who punched—” He cleared his throat. “Er…yes, I have.”

“Marvelous.” She breathed. “Can you direct me to him, please?”

The boy rubbed the back of his thin neck. “I’m sorry, my lady. He left an hour ago.”

CHAPTER 5

Kieran quickened his pace along the narrow cobblestoned streets as the bells tolled the nine o’clock hour. Despite all he had accomplished that morning, agitation crept along his muscles.

Last night’s discussion with Alec and Colin had not gone as well as he had hoped. Had he not made the damned wager with Mariel, he would have been out of London before the sun even rose.

His assumption had been correct. Lord Hampton was not at court. Kieran gritted his teeth. His trip to London had been for naught, and now Caisteal Camus was left without its laird. Doubtless, that had been the bastard’s intention the entire time.

The last-minute preparations for two additional people had taken longer than Kieran had anticipated, and now he was running late. He cursed himself for accepting that ridiculous bet in the first place.

He approached the wide lawn and spotted Mariel’s slender back amid the throngs of people. Her maid was with her, as well as a young page who pointed in Kieran’s direction. Mariel spun around in a graceful swirl of skirts and beamed a devastating smile at him.

“Kieran,” she said in a breathy voice as he approached. “I thought you’d left me.”

The glare of the sun streamed against her face and brought out sapphire-blue flecks among the brilliant amethyst of her eyes. Her hair was bound again, this time twisted beneath a cap with an absurd feather thrust through it.