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The Highlander's Bride(41)

By:Donna Fletcher


He stared at her a moment before saying, “You seem to always do what is necessary, and it’s not always simple.”

“Necessary decisions are simple, it’s the action that is difficult,” she argued. “But then I believe you have learned that lesson yourself.” She stood, stretching her arms up and out. “We should be going.”

Cullen stood more slowly and eased his solid arms into a stretch. “We should find a cottage to shelter us tonight.”

Sara protected her eyes from the bright sun with her hand. “There’s no threat of rain. Bedding beneath the stars should be no problem.”

“If you want to be bedded beneath the stars, that’s fine with me. I just thought you might want more of a secluded spot.”

Her head whipped around and her eyes turned wide.

“We might as well—”

Sara yanked the blanket off the ground. “Don’t dare say be done with it.” She shook the blanket in his face, bits of dirt and grass flying out from it. “Why not just stretch me out here, hike my skirts and have at it?”

“Is that how you want it?” he asked, his brows arching.

Sara groaned angrily, threw her hands up, discarding the blanket, and mumbled as she stomped off to pace a few feet away.

Cullen approached cautiously. She could tell since his steps were hesitant and measured, as if he feared being caught in a snare.

He whipped his hands up in surrender when she turned a hard glare on him.

“I give up. Whatever I did, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

Sara smirked. “If you don’t know what you did, how can you be sorry?”

“Simple,” he explained. “I never meant to offend you from the start, so since it wasn’t intentional, I’m safe apologizing.”

Her hands smacked her hips. “You think so?”

“I’m not safe?” he asked with uncertainty, and took a step closer.

She threw back her shoulders, her breasts stretching tight against her blouse. “You should know.”

He nodded slowly and eased closer, reaching out to take her hand. “You’re right. Explain and I’ll fix it.”

His fingers locked with hers while his thumb stroked her palm, and magically she felt her body ease and her temper abate.

“You want me to fix it, don’t you, Sara?”

He kissed her lips gently before she could respond.

“And I want to fix it. I want it to be right for you.”

He eased their locked hands behind her back and drew her in against him, all the while kissing her tenderly, until suddenly the kisses turned hungry.

He fed off her like a starving man, not only tasting her lips, but nibbling along her neck, around her ears, and returning to feed once again at her mouth. She found her appetite just as ravenous as his and enjoyed every morsel he had to offer her.

His free hand cupped her backside and pushed her hard against him, their bodies eager. Her hands raked through his long hair, digging into his scalp, drawing their mouths closer, to feed like frenzied lovers.

One of the horses snorted loudly, snapping the both of them apart. Cullen’s hand went to the dirk sheathed at his waist as he quickly scanned the area. Sara did the same, until they both returned to where they started, staring at each other.

Sara’s breathing had yet to calm, while Cullen’s chest heaved a rapid tempo.

She couldn’t help but touch her lips, which pulsed wildly, tingling her fingertips.

Cullen remained where he stood, staring at her.

Neither of them said a word, and then he began to gather the food on the remaining blanket and pack it away, after which he rolled up the blanket and secured it to his horse.

Meanwhile, Sara didn’t move. She wasn’t certain she could. Her legs trembled and her stomach rolled and she wasn’t at all sure if she could take a step without toppling.

She continued to stare at Cullen’s back, broad, muscled, and…

He turned around in a flash and headed for her, his feet pounding the ground, stirring the dry earth. The determined look in his narrowed dark eyes almost made Sara run in the opposite direction.

But she stayed where she was, and when he walked up to her, he took hold of her arm and walked her back to the horses. She almost stumbled a few times but he kept her firm on her feet, thank goodness, since her legs trembled more now than they had before. Once in front of her mare, his large hands settled around her waist snugly and, with one swift lift, he placed her on her horse and handed her the reins.

When she thought he was about to step away, his hand came down to rest on her knee, hard and firm.

“We’ll get this right, you and me,” he said, as if giving his word, then reaffirmed it. “We’ll get this right.”