Page 25 of Much Ado About a Scot

It was past midnight when Isobel finally got the villagers settled in their encampment for the night. They would stay at Gladmuir Hall for the next two nights: the first to recover from their hard work in the fields; the second to celebrate the harvest they’d all played a part in.

She’d also heard back from David Graham that he and his workers would join them tomorrow for the harvest celebration. It would be a gathering wrought with tension, but she would worry about that tomorrow.

When she finally made it to her own bed, despite her exhaustion, sleep eluded her. Jamie had bedded down with Freya hours ago so at least he would be well-rested on the morrow. As for her, perhaps if she had some fresh air it might help calm her restlessness. Moving to the window, she opened the shutter and drew a deep breath of the fresh, clean scent of the newly harvested rye and barley. The slight breeze stirred the lightweight muslin of her night rail, pressing it against her body and bringing with it a tingle of awareness.

It was the excitement of a celebration tomorrow that kept her from sleep, she lied to herself as she gazed over the moonlit fields below. It had been so long since they’d done anything but mourning in this house . . . But even as she tried to convince herself that was the reason, she knew it was because of Xander. His presence here had sparked something inside her, a rebirth of sorts of the woman she had once been, not the sad and lonely woman she had become. She had dreams and desires that were long unfulfilled. Not that she would trade Jamie or the estate for any of those dreams, but why could Jamie and Xander not be a part of those dreams?

When she was younger, she had longed to travel, to see more of the country than merely Haddingtonshire. She’d heard stories of the Isles, of the beautiful craggy mountains on the western shores, of stunning waterfalls, majestic castles, and ancient standing stone rings. She’d seen none of that. Not that she didn’t appreciate what she had—for she knew others who had far less. But she was certain once she explored the world, she would appreciate her little corner of it all the more.

Her dreams might never come true, but her desires had reawakened last night in the arms of a stranger. She closed her eyes and leaned her hot cheek against the wooden window frame. Her body craved more of him even while her mind told her she needed to find out more about him.

A creak sounded from the stairs, followed by the soft padding of footsteps that stopped outside her door. The door opened and his brown eyes locked on hers. A gentle breeze stirred through her chamber, caressing the flames in the brazier and sending them dancing and writhing, making twisting shadows on the walls. Her heart leapt in her chest as he entered her bedchamber and shut the door, also shutting out the world behind him.

“I was waiting for you.” He padded across the wooden floor, wearing only a pair of tan breeches.

Isobel inhaled sharply, letting her gaze slide over his muscular body. She ached for the taste of him, the feel of him. “I did not want to make assumptions.”

“You are mine and I am yours for the next two months.”

A thrill slid through Isobel at the simple statement. Her gaze met his for a long moment before she crossed the chamber and moved into his arms.

His strong arms came around her, lifting her off the floor. The scent of his freshly washed skin filled her senses as the heat of him seeped into her bones, kindling the fire inside her. He carried her to the bed and set her on the mattress before sliding down beside her. The ropes beneath them creaked as his dark eyes stared into hers, reflecting an image of herself.

He slipped his hand beneath the hem of her night-rail and glided his fingers up the length of her leg and toward her hot, damp center. “I’ll never willingly do anything to hurt you, Isobel.”

“Nor I you.” She shivered in expectation as she leaned her head back, letting her loose hair tumble about her.

“We are free to take whatever we need from the other.” He lifted her night-rail over her head and tossed it aside until they were flesh to flesh.

“Take what you need, Xander. I am giving it all to you.”

His hands swept over her, claiming every inch of her softness. He explored every nuance, every curve, until her body was awash with heat and longing. Last night their joining had been desperate, primal. Tonight, he seemed intent on a slow, methodical seduction. Where he touched, she burned.

Wanting him to know the torture to which he subjected her, she explored his body in return, feeling his muscles tighten and contract at her touch. His body stirred and his breath hitched as her fingers brushed over his chest, his shoulders, down his back and around his backside.

He kissed her slowly, deeply, as only a lover would, laying claim to her body and her senses. Their breath twined, the sound ragged and broken, the feel hot and heated, as he shifted over her, spread her thighs, and settled between.

She brought her legs up to wrap around his hips, her body ravenous for what only he could give her. She scraped her hands up and down his back, urging him closer as she looked into his eyes and saw an echoing hunger there. He might act as though he were in control, but he had no more rein on his desire than she did.

As if proving her suspicion, he slid into her silken heat and groaned. She wrapped her legs tighter around his hips, holding him within her, almost daring him to withdraw.

A satisfied smile came to his lips as he slowly drew back then filled her again. He kept the pace slow, despite the knot of heat inside her that begged for release.

With a groan of frustration, she brought her feet to his chest and pushed him back, releasing her so that she could pull herself up in a sitting position. “You are driving me mad.” She shifted her legs atop his as if she were sitting in his lap. “It’s my turn to have you follow where I take you instead.”

His response was a chuckle that evolved into a groan as she took him inside her once more then ground her hips against him, taking him deeper, higher. She rubbed her peaked nipples against his chest and heard his breath strangle.

The moment was starkly intimate as their gazes locked not in challenge but in mutual satisfaction as she rode him, propelling them toward the same goal.

When the first stirrings of her climax tingled to life and were enveloped in a firestorm of sensation, she let her head fall back on her neck and closed her eyes, savoring every sensation, every sound.

His breath hitched and the groans that were low in his throat intensified as he too soared toward that peak.

She shuddered, fractured, and climaxed around him in wave after wave of sensation, and reveled in her power when she took him with her over the edge into bliss.

Her hips slowed their rocking, then halted, but neither of them had the desire to move, to break the moment. Instead his arms came around her. He pulled her closer until her forehead rested against his. The thundering of their hearts echoed in her ears.

When their breathing finally slowed, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, her nose, and finally her lips before pulling back to gaze into her eyes. “Are you all right?”