Under the Highlander's Spell(30)
He stood waiting where he was, and though she returned in mere minutes, it felt like much longer. He took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers once again, and again not wanting to let go, yet knowing he would soon have to. Even with slow steps, they would be at the cottage much too soon.
They strolled to the entrance and when they reached the door he planned to kiss her good-night. She surprised him and turned around, took hold of his other hand and hesitantly brushed her lips over his. “I want to kiss you,” she whispered as if seeking permission.
“I want you to kiss me,” he said.
She brushed her lips over his once again. “I want to keep kissing you.”
A low groan rumbled in his throat. “I want you to keep kissing me.”
Her lips kept brushing, teasing and tasting his until she pushed the door open and pulled him inside.
Chapter 11
Zia loved his arms around her, the strength of his kisses, the warmth of his body, but most of all his kindness. Artair might be a mighty warrior, but he was a compassionate man. He had helped the young father find courage, made certain the hungry were fed, and come after her, concerned for her safety. And more important, he was patient with her.
She pressed her cheek to his and rested there, wishing nothing more than to remain close to him, feel his arms strong around her and know this moment was for them alone.
She would kiss him again; she knew that, but for now this was enough. This was what she wanted, to simply be close to him.
He obliged her by not moving, though he ran his hand up and down her back and it felt so wonderful that she could have remained there all night wrapped in his arms.
However, her yawn interrupted them.
“You need to sleep,” he said.
Slipping her arms around his waist, she prevented him from leaving her. “Not yet.”
“If I stay too long, I will not want to leave.”
“Then stay,” she whispered in his ear.
His inquisitive look questioned her motive.
“Lie beside me and hold me, just hold me all night.”
She saw reluctance in his eyes.
“Do I ask too much?” she asked.
He traced a finger around her lips. “To lie beside you and not touch you might prove difficult.”
She retraced his path with the tip of her tongue, then said, “Am I that appealing?”
He kissed her quick. “You are that wicked.”
“I can be wicked,” she teased with a sigh, “but alas I’m too tired.”
He coiled his fingers around the back of her neck and massaged the stiff area, and she all but melted in his arms.
“Now you take advantage,” she said.
“Don’t tempt me.”
She smiled and saw desire rage in his eyes, but tenderness remained in his touch. “You are a good man.”
“You truly tempt my honorable nature.”
“Ah, but that is what I count on.” Her smile faded and she pressed closer, his hands falling away from her neck to slip around her, and as he embraced her, she leaned in and kissed him.
It was a good thing he held her, for her legs grew weak as he took control of the kiss, and she eagerly surrendered. She didn’t realize that he had picked her up or that he walked with her in his arms to the bed. She knew nothing but the kiss. It overwhelmed her senses and befuddled her mind.
She hadn’t realized she was lying on the bed until he gently pried her arms from around his neck and eased away from her.
“You will not hold me?” she asked, her arms outstretched to him.
He stared at her for a moment, his look stern and unpredictable, and she waited.
He quickly unlaced his sandals and stepped out of them, but left his shirt and plaid on. Then he slipped over her outstretched body, giving her a quick kiss as he went, and settled alongside her. Before she could turn to face him, he tucked his arm around her and drew her back against his chest.
“Sleep,” he whispered in her ear, “before I forget that I’m an honorable man.”
She almost chuckled but instead yawned and settled comfortably against him. She remained still, not wishing to tempt him any further. At least not now. She was simply too exhausted.
There would be another time; she would make certain of it.
She drifted off to sleep with dreams of the future dancing in her head.
Artair planned to leave as soon as she fell asleep. He didn’t think he could last the night without touching Zia. Her teasing alone fired his loins, not to mention her kisses.
This feeling he had for her was strange. He had assumed that when he found a suitable bride, he would simply wed her. Passion would follow; he never expected it to precede it.
And as for a bride? He never expected to find such a suitable one. He believed that he would have to make concessions, as he had done when a marriage had been arranged for him with Honora. She had been sweet and obedient, but not what he truly hoped for. She was, however, the perfect woman for Cavan.