Page 39 of Highland Ruse

“I’m sorry.” His voice was in her ear and the warmth of his breath stirred the delicate hairs at her neck.

A pleasant shiver prickled over her skin.

“I know.” Though she whispered, she knew he would hear her.

He was not the only one inclined to apologize despite needing to finish what he’d started.

Before she could stop herself, she eased back the slightest bit, her body seeking the comfort and strength of his. She didn’t allow herself to touch him, but she sensed how much closer that minor shift brought them. Her heartbeat pounded a little faster.

“I dinna ever want to hurt ye.” Kaid’s burr sounded against her ear. She turned toward the timbre of his voice and the heat of his mouth. A thrum of longing began to pulse low in her stomach.

They stayed poised thus for the lifetime of a moment.

Something brushed against the sensitive dip where her neck met her shoulders, so gentle she almost did not discern its whisper over her skin.

But she did, and the sensation sent her heart into wild gallops.

She leaned her head to expose her neck, welcoming the touch.

His fingers swept down her neck, cold against her blazing skin. She gave in and sank into the pleasure of his touch.

For she wanted so much more.

Chapter Ten

Kaid’s breathing came faster, filling the silence in the forest.

His fingertips still tingled with the effect of caressing Elizabeth, the silky warmth of her skin. His body was chilled from having washed in the loch while he waited for her to return. Doubtless his fingers had been cold.

Elizabeth had not turned away, though.

He stared down at the exposed curve of her neck, the slender muscles straining against her skin, the sweet slope of her collarbone.

Her eyes were closed, her lips parted, as if she wanted his kiss.

But she was his enemy’s bride to be. She was the salvation of his people. She was a maiden.

Everything in Kaid wanted to caress her again, to let the pads of his fingers sweep down her neck, the same as his bit of charcoal did against the lines he drew when he knew she would not see.

He’d drawn her neck countless times, the same as her face, the sweet shape of her mouth, the complexities of her expressions. She was exquisite.

And now she was directly in front of him with her body leaned toward him.

His hovering fingers came down once more onto her smooth skin at the nape of her neck and traced a careful line upward to the thick light brown hair that reminded him so of honey’s sweet golden hue.

A gasp whispered through her lips. Her skin rose with tiny prickling bumps.

Her reaction only spurred him toward what he desired.

To kiss her. To taste her.

Before he could pull himself from her, he leaned forward and let his lips brush against the skin where her neck and shoulders met.

She was warm and supple and wholly perfect.

It was a small kiss, a tease of what he wanted to do, and it was his intention to do no more.

Then the pull of her floral perfume intoxicated him with the promise of her sweetness, the heat of her skin lured him toward everything hot when the loch had left him so damn cold.