Page 33 of Deception of a Highlander

“Women must ask you about your scars all the time,” Mariel murmured thoughtfully, tracing the outline with the delicate tip of her nail.

Small bumps rose on his flesh in pleasant response to her touch. “Some,” he answered carefully.

Would she ask him? He hated the curious glances and notable admiration. Mariel, however, seemed different from others. And he didn’t want to be disappointed.

Her eyes met his, bright with the effects of the tea. “I won’t.” She turned her gaze to his exposed chest once more and, regretfully, removed her hand from his body. “A scar carries secrets, memories and lessons. Asking you for an explanation would be asking you to bare your soul to me.”

Her hand glided up his chest, and she gave him that slanted look that she was too damn good at.

“You like the way I touch you.” Her mouth curved in a slow smile. “I know because I can feel it.”

She slid into his lap, straddling him with her long, smooth legs. Her lips tickled his neck as she whispered in a husky tone, “I like the way you touch me too.”

She pressed a kiss to his neck. “I like how your body is so solid against mine. So strong…” Her fingers curled around his arm, and she sighed next to his ear. “I like the way you burn me with a desire, unlike anything I’ve ever known.” Her hips rolled against his straining arousal.

She rose on her knees, so the swell of her breasts hovered invitingly in front of his face. “I like the way you caress me…” Her eyes fluttered closed, and her hand slid down her neck, splaying across the expanse of milky flesh like that of a lover. “The way your touch leaves a trail of fire.”

She dropped her head back. Her face was relaxed and serene as her tapered fingers skimmed the rounded tops of her breasts. His cock lurched.

“Touch me, Kieran.” The words came out in a breathy moan. “Burn me with pleasure as only you can.”

She leaned into him, pressing her breasts closer. The pink of her nipples showed through the thin fabric. The slightest nuzzle would part the gown and give him access to the sleek warmth she so readily offered.

He groaned aloud and pulled her into his lap once more, freeing his vision from a temptation he had not the strength to resist. Too late did he realize his mistake as she arched her hips against him.

Her face relaxed in a veil of satisfaction and her glossy hair was cool against his fingers where it hadn’t yet dried. His cock throbbed to the rapid beat of his heart. A slip of his finger between her thighs would confirm what her expression already told him—she was wet, ready, and willing.

And then she swayed. It was a jarring reminder of her heavily drugged state.

“I think what ye need is a solid night of sleep, lass, no’ a solid night of loving.” Using every ounce of willpower he possessed, he got to his feet and drew her into his arms. She did not resist, even when he carried her to the bed.

She snuggled against him and gave a wistful sigh. “You always protect me.” He could hear the smile in her voice and the throatiness of her remaining desire. “I feel safe with you, as if nothing could ever hurt me.”

Her candid admission startled him. Did he truly make her feel that way? He paused beside the bed, reluctant to let her go.

She seemed to sense his hesitation and burrowed against his arms. “Please hold me. I haven’t felt so safe since…” Her eyes widened as though she suddenly realized she’d said too much.

He shouldn’t press her. She was not lucid. Her secrets were her own. She had granted him that courtesy when she examined his scars.

Yet this was an opportunity for him to understand her intention, to clear the suspicion that clouded her presence.

“Ye havena felt safe since when?” He ground his teeth, half regretting having spoken the question and half relieved to have done so.

“Since my parents died,” she said solemnly. “The plague.” Her teeth caught her lower lip.

He would not press her further. He did not need to. She stared off into the distance and continued on her own. “I was nineteen when it happened. I was still so young then.” A mirthless smile touched her lips. “I had no one to guide me or reassure me that I would have a meal that night or a safe bed to sleep in. Everything we owned was burned to prevent the plague from spreading further. I had…nothing.”

He could imagine her as a young girl, naïve and vulnerable, thrust into the cruelty of the world with no one to care for her. How had she managed to survive?

Something painful and dark twisted in his chest. He knew how women and girls survived the streets.

“Until you,” she added quietly. Her distant gaze focused on him. “I’ve not ever spoken of this to anyone.” Tears shimmered in her eyes. “You are an unexpected ray of sunshine warming my face in an otherwise hard, gray world.”

Kieran shifted awkwardly.

She spoke again, saving him from responding. “What was in that posset? I sound like a bard.”

He chuckled. “Ye need to sleep, Mariel.”