The Highlander's Bride(52)
“I am a better lover.”
She laughed softly. “You try to tempt me.”
“Is it working?”
She shook her head and with a smile said, “Let it be, Cullen. I am fine.”
He leaned into her and brushed his lips across hers. “Does it make a difference that I want you?”
Sara’s eyes rounded in surprise. No man had ever wanted her, and while the thought thrilled her, she couldn’t help but wonder if he meant it, or did he merely mean to entice her into his bed and see to sealing their bargain?
She whispered in his ear, “Does it make a difference that I want more?”
Cullen kissed her lips gently and pressed his cheek to hers. “I’ll give you what I can.”
She thought him generous for even trying, and considered that perhaps she was selfish for not accepting his generosity. But she knew she couldn’t. She had had done so much out of necessity that she’d thought bedding Cullen would be easy, but she hadn’t counted on the ache to love and be loved to interfere.
She wondered why it had, and why she should give it credence.
Cullen placed a tender hand to her cheek. “Let me love you.”
“If only you could,” she whispered.
“One night,” he said.
His mouth brushed across hers, stealing a kiss and her breath.
He cupped her face in his hands. “One night, just you, me, and nothing else. Two strangers loving, touching, healing each other, and afterward…?” He kissed her firm on the lips. “Parting with no regrets, only beautiful memories.”
Wasn’t that what she was afraid of?
“Don’t think,” he warned in a murmur. “Just let yourself feel.”
His hand slipped around her neck to take firm hold, and she was soon lost in a kiss that devastated her senses and heated her flesh. While she thought to protest, she didn’t make a move to stop him from lowering her onto the blanket and stretching out beside her.
“This is right,” he whispered, unlacing her blouse ties to slip his hand inside and cup her generous breasts.
Did he need to convince himself of his actions? Did he doubt himself?
Her own misgivings dwindled with each touch. She couldn’t, nor wouldn’t, deny that she liked his touch. His large hand was warm and gentle, and yet so firmly cupped her breast and squeezed lightly, his thumb caressing her nipple to life.
“So right,” he whispered as he lowered his lips to hers.
His lips met her palm, and his eyes spread wide open.
“You wonder if this is right?” she asked, easing away from his mouth and trying desperately to fight the sparks of passion igniting her body.
Confusion scrambled over his face. “Of course it’s right.”
“Why?”
He answered sharply. “We need to seal our vows. You need protection. I want you. Take your pick.”
She pushed him off her with regret but resolve and sat up. “I don’t want to take my pick.”
He rolled to his feet. “Be reasonable.”
Sara laughed. “Oh, but I am.”
“Reasonable is leaving yourself vulnerable to your father?”
“Reasonable is respecting myself in the morning.”
Cullen pressed his hand to his cheek. “That stung.”
“It was meant to,” she assured him firmly.
“We’re married,” he said, as if making sense of the situation.
“Precisely.” She nodded sharply. “I need no more from you.”
He looked about to argue, his mouth dropping open then snapping shut, then moved to the other side of the campfire. “Fine, have it your way.”
“It’s been my way from the start,” she reminded him.
“It certainly has, which means if your plan fails, it’s your fault. I still walk away with my son.”
“You met your end of the bargain. I’ll meet mine.”
“You’ll get no argument from me.” He dropped to his blanket. “You do realize, though, that people will be expecting us to be a loving couple. That means hugs, kisses, and displays of affection. After all, we’ve just gotten married.”
“We can manage that since it won’t be long before our marital bliss shows signs of problems. Of course most people will be expecting it,” she said with a resigned sigh.
“Why?”
“No one believes me capable of keeping a husband. Even with my father doubling my dowry, few were interested, and those who were lost interest when they realized I would be no—”
“No malleable wife,” he finished with a chuckle.
“Not one of them had a backbone—”
“To stand up to you,” he interrupted again.
She narrowed her eyes. “And you do? It seems to me you had to marry me.”