Page 67 of Hard-Hearted Highlander
He slid agonizingly slow into her, his eyes piercing hers until she closed them and allowed the exquisite sensation of his body to wash over her. He moved with deliberation, his hand caressing her thigh, then caressing the wet folds of her sex as he moved.
She was lost. She grabbed at his cloak, curling her fingers into twin fists as she struggled for patience, to not rush along but luxuriate in this. He buried his face in her hair, lengthening his stroke, his hand between their joined bodies, bringing her to a moment of crisis.
Bernadette choked on a cry of release. It rained down on her, the dust and fragments of her life, the bits and pieces of what had been a thick wall of desire.
His strokes took on a new urgency now. “Hold me,” he whispered, and Bernadette slipped her arms around him, kissed his face, his neck, his forehead, as he rode his way to release inside her.
When she had floated down from the cloud of ecstasy they’d created in one another, she opened her eyes. The wind had picked up, and the clouds had moved closer to shore. And yet, bits of sunlight glittered through the tops of the trees, and it felt to Bernadette as if they were being showered by gold dust.
It had been magical.
But as their bodies cooled, and the sky grew darker, reality began to creep in. The moments of insanity had passed, and now Bernadette was caught again in a vise of deceit and betrayal so tight that she feared her chest might burst with it.
Rabbie rose and helped her to her feet. He helped her arrange herself in her gown, picked up her cloak and wrapped it around her.
She brushed a twig from his shoulder. “You can’t return to Balhaire like this,” she said, worried by the state of his appearance.
“Donna worry,” he said, and kissed the top her of head. He picked up her cloak and put it around her shoulders, fastening the clasp. “Go home, now,leannan.It will rain soon and I’ll no’ have you caught in it.”
Bernadette nodded. She fastened her cloak and pulled the hood over her head. “This doesn’t change anything, Rabbie. It didn’t end it.”
He gave her a questioning look.
“You said we wouldn’t rest until we’d put an end to this thing between us. But it hasn’t ended for me. I can’t feel all this...esteem for you and prepare Avaline to marry you.”
He touched his fingers to her cheek.
“I don’t know what to do,” she pleaded with him.
“I would ease you if I could,leannan,but in this moment, I donna know what to do, either, aye? All I can do is promise you I will put it to rights.”
She wanted to believe him. She desperately, ardently, wanted to believe him.
He cupped her face. “You donna know what you mean to me,” he said. She nodded—he didn’t know what he meant to her, either. And she feared they would never have the opportunity to know.
His abruptly pulled her to him and kissed her again. When he let her go, he said, “Make haste.” He turned and walked quickly, his cloak billowing out behind him.
Bernadette waited until he’d gone, then started back to Killeaven, her body still vibrating from their lovemaking. But the closer she got to Killeaven, the colder she grew. Guilt began to choke out the desire.
There was nothing to be done for it. She’d fallen like a star fell from the sky, fast and hard, disappearing into nothing.
She would tell Avaline tonight.
How fitting the rain should start to fall.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
AULAYMETRABBIEat the door of Balhaire.
“Where’ve you been, then?” he demanded as Rabbie wiped the rain from his shoulders.
Rabbie swallowed down a trifle of guilt. “I needed air,” he said, and pushed past his brother. He feared Aulay would detect Bernadette’s scent, so firmly set in his own nose. He feared the truth of where he’d been and what he’d been about could be read in his expression.
But Aulay caught his arm, wouldn’t let him pass. “Bloody hell you needed air,” he spat. “I know where you’ve been, lad. I know what you’re about, aye?”
Rabbie was almost relieved to have been caught. He wanted to confess that he had feelings—strongfeelings—for the first time in years. Old, brittle feelings he’d thought long dead were cracking their shells and opening to new life.
“Donna do it again, do you understand? I’ve kept that cake-headed lass long enough in your stead, and I will no’ do it again. Bloody well tend to her yourself.”
