The Highlander's Touch

Page 72

For her sake, he needed to be ruthless. He needed to penetrate her shell and ease her fully into his life. He wanted her, this fascinating woman with her deep emotions, her passionate heart, her witty and curious mind. He wanted her droll sense of humor, which had been noticeably absent of late. He needed her to accept the deepest physical bond with him because he knew that once she did, she would bar no quarter of her heart from him. And he wanted to explore every private nook and cranny of her soul.
Ruthlessly seductive, that was what he would be.
He gathered his hair back into a thong and considered shaving, but was too impatient for her. They had retired from dinner a half-hour past, and with any luck she would be curled up in bed.
And he would join her. It was time.
Tonight he would make her his.
* * *
Lisa sipped her cider wine and watched the fire, feeling remarkably dissatisfied after finishing a delicious meal with a delicious companion and being given the lovely gift of the chapel. Her body was thrumming with frustration and she’d been having a perfectly vicious argument with herself.
Since she’d emerged from her chambers after her bout of grieving, Circenn had repeatedly given her every indication that he desired to enter a sexual relationship with her, but something was holding her back and she didn’t have the faintest idea what it was. She’d studied it from every angle but still was no closer to understanding why she pulled away each time he tried to do more than kiss her. She hovered on the verge of asking him if he knew why she did, but couldn’t bring herself to be quite so brutally honest.
A part of her wished he would try to storm her walls, so she could figure out what the damned walls were. She thought she’d decided to be happy here, but then why resist his seduction?
A knock at the door set her heart to pounding.
“Come in,” she called softly, desperately hoping it would not be Gillendria who entered, carrying yet another restitched gown or surcoat.
“Lass,” Circenn murmured, as he closed the door behind him.
Lisa sat up straight and placed her wine goblet on the table. Don’t say anything—just kiss me, she thought. Kiss me hard and fast and don’t give me time to think.
“There was something I wanted to discuss with you, lass,” he said. He crossed the room and pulled her up from the chair.
“Yes?”
He stopped and gazed down at her for a long moment. “Och, sometimes I make a fankle of things with words,” he finally said. “I’ve been a warrior all my life, not a blethering bard.” Cradling her head in his hands, he seized her mouth with his.
He buried his fingers in her hair, slipped his tongue between her lips with a smooth velvety stroke, kissing her slowly and thoroughly. He gave her a long, deliciously romantic kiss that left her clinging to him breathlessly. He nibbled her lower lip, sucking and tugging, then swept inside again, possessing her mouth. His hands slid down her back and over her bottom, and he groaned. He needed her desperately, but he also needed her to seek his affection. His tongue retreated and he paused, waiting for her to seek its return.
She didn’t.
He sighed and moved back an inch to look at her. “At least fight me, lass, like you did when the Bruce declared us handfasted. Think you I’ve forgotten that? When I took my tongue from you then, you would have none of it.”
Lisa averted her gaze.
Ruthless, Circenn reminded himself, or she will slip away from you. You cannot leave her trapped in grief and guilt.
When she moved to sit on the bed, he exhaled a small sigh of relief. The fact that she felt comfortable perching on the target of his seduction told him she wasn’t entirely adverse to it.
“What are you waiting for, Lisa?” He sank next to her onto the bed. He was heartened that she didn’t pull away but merely sat together, shoulder brushing shoulder. “Do you remember what you said to me the night that you arrived here, when you feared I might take your life?”
She glanced warily at him, indicating that she was listening.
“I have not even lived yet. Those are the words you said to me, and I heard many things in that statement. I heard frustration and regret. I heard curiosity and hunger for experiences, and a terrible fear that you would never get to have them. I cannot die. I have not even lived yet! you said to me. I thought you meant it. That given the chance you would live boldly.”
Lisa flinched. She could feel the echo welling up inside her. It was true, she thought defiantly, she hadn’t even lived yet. She felt a sudden flash of fury. She’d spent years denying herself the luxury of feelings, and with a few simple sentences, Circenn stripped them bare in front of her. She resented his psychoanalyzing her. It made her angry that he dared be so intimate with her feelings. Her eyes narrowed.