Page 31 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance

Not something she ever expected to see.

For a moment, all she could do was sit, frozen by the impossible quiet of the moment. She had never known him to be anything but alert, guarded, and coldly composed. And now… now he slumbered in the chair beside her, beneath the same hearth light that had warmed only her solitude.

She watched him, eyes tracing the flicker of flame across his jaw, the faint tension in his brow even in sleep. And the question returned, sharper now, more insistent.

Who are you really?

Esme sat still for a long while, the crackle of the fire the only sound daring to move between them.

He slept so deeply, so unexpectedly. The steady rise and fall of his chest, the slight parting of his lips, the faint furrow in his brow, none of it spoke of the Torrance she had known. That man never let his guard down. Not for an instant. Not with anyone.

A thought came to her. Should she do it? Was it wise of her? It could help her determine her suspicions, secure a piece of the puzzle.

Carefully, silently, and apprehensively she rose from her chair.

Her bare feet barely whispered across the carpet as she crept toward him. Each step measured, her breath shallow. She felt foolish like a child sneaking toward a sleeping wolf, but curiosity pressed her forward. This might be the only chance she had to truly see him… see if there was a difference.

She crouched slightly beside the chair, her gaze sweeping over his face.

He looked like Torrance. The same chiseled jaw, the sharp cheekbones, the strong, defined mouth that had once sneered when he’d said, “‘a wife is a burden no man should shoulder.’” His dark auburn hair curled slightly at the edges, just as she remembered. But…

Her eyes narrowed and she looked closer.

There. Just beneath his right eye, a faint line, not more than a whisper of a scar, nearly invisible in the firelight.

She had never noticed it before.

Torrance had once boasted about the day he’d bloodied Ryland’s face when they were young. Left a mark to remember me by, he’d told her, proud of it.

Could that be it?

Her gaze drifted lower, taking in the smoothness of his skin. He looked younger somehow. Still striking, but with fewer lines than she recalled. Less wear. Less… cruelty.

And she realized something else. She had never been this close to him before, not like this when he slept. Their few kisses had been cold, forced, his mouth harsh against hers. She had kept her eyes tightly shut, counting heartbeats until it ended, and wishing she could rush away as soon as it did. Not so his kisses of late.

But now… now she looked.

And the more she looked, the more she wondered?—

His eyes snapped open.

She gasped.

Before she could retreat, his hand shot up, curling behind her neck. His grip was firm but not cruel, and in the space of a breath, he pulled her down, his face lifting to meet hers.

Their lips met… he made sure of it.

The kiss was nothing like before, nothing like the frigid, punishing pecks she had endured. His lips moved against hers with purpose, with something raw and sudden. Heat surgedup her spine, her hands braced against the arm of the chair, her breath caught between disbelief and something far more dangerous.

She realized once again how much she enjoyed the way he kissed her.

It was pleasurable, not harsh or cruel, and tempting as if he wanted her to enjoy it, find pleasure in it. And she did.

He pulled her into his lap, his hand settling at her backside and tugging her close as he continued to kiss her. His lips dominated hers in a playful way, urging her to join in and, again, she did.

She didn’t mind his hand intimately caressing her backside. It felt good and his kiss sparked her passion, and his touch brought it to life. Never did she expect to share such pleasure, know such pleasure with her husband. If only it could always be like this, if only this was real.

His warm hand found its way beneath her garment, over her backside, then his fingers urged her legs apart to slip between them. His fingers settled in the most intimate of places and she gasped against his mouth when his finger slipped inside her. She curled closer against him, though she spread her legs a bit more.

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