Page 6 of Kilted Seduction
“Because I ken ye’re a good man, and I… I want… that is…” Her cheeks were scarlet, even as she raised her head and looked him in the eye. “I want ye.”
“Dae ye now? And when we’re strangers tae one another?”
“Aye. I saw ye in the village as ye passed by. Ye were… dutiful, stern, but nae unkind. There’s few men like ye. Or so handsome.” She reached out and laid a hand on his chest. “Iwant tae ken such a man, and offer ye the comfort ye surely deserve. I realize ‘tis forward o’ me…”
“Forward indeed. But why come tae me with tales o’ seer’s dreams and dangers?”
“Tae make ye see me. I’m sure ye’ve nae end o’ maids willing tae grace yer bed. I wanted ye tae truly see me.” She offered him a hesitant smile, and a tilt of her head. “’Twas also a test o’ sorts, tae see if ye were the man I thought ye. And ye were - kind enough tae give shelter and succor tae a stranger ye thought more than a little mad.”
Why she thought any manwouldn’tlook twice at her was a mystery. Her delicate, ethereal features and luminous blue eyes would catch any man’s attention, and set fire to his blood. Even as off-putting as he’d found her earlier insistence on the danger to his clan didn’t prevent Aedan from feeling desire.
He lifted a hand to trace her cheek, startled by the shiver she gave. “Dae ye truly want me, or just a laird, fer the chance tae boast about it?”
“Only ye. Nay other.”
There was perfect sincerity in her eyes, and in her voice, even as shy and uncertain as she seemed. Whatever had prompted her to come to his castle, to brave the storm outside to reach him, she was speaking the truth when she said she would choose no other.
Warmth filled his belly, heat racing through his veins at the realization that this beautiful woman had come to him, and him alone, like an angel offering a blessing at his doorstep. Or perhaps she was a fey lass offering temptation, to drag him away Underhill, where a century would pass in a night. In that moment, Aedan didn’t care.
He carded a hand through her shining black hair, soft as he’d expected, then tipped her head up. “Then ye have me.”
He kissed her, capturing her soft lips with his own, and let himself drown in the taste of sweet wine and spices, and the scent of heather and honey.
For the first second, as Laird Cameron’s mouth fastened over hers, Thora entirely lost the ability to think, or to breathe. Her world narrowed to the firm, demanding mouth on hers, the hand on her face and the arm that pulled her flush against Aedan Cameron’s muscular body.
She’d never kissed a man, and certainly never felt such heat and passion. Her body seemed to come alive with sparks, fire darting through her veins. Her senses were filled with Aedan - the scent of leather and smoked cedar that hung around him, the taste of mead and fresh bread and roasted venison on his lips, both accompanied by a wilder, masculine taste and scent that was wholly his own.
His free hand caressed her back, then slid under the collar of her opened shift to glide across bare skin. The rough feel of calluses trailing over the soft skin just above her breast made Thora shiver, and not at all with fear or distaste.
She broke the kiss with a gasp, knowing right then that Aedan Cameron was a very dangerous man - not to her safety, but to her virtue. His desire for her was obvious in the arousal that showed clearly under his kilt, and the sight of it, along with what showed of his muscular chest through his unlaced shirt, awoke an answering desire in her. Her skin tingled, and every part of her wanted nothing more than to lean closer, to return his caresses with her own, and feel his hands once more on her body.
Of all the things she had considered dangerous about this plan, her own attraction to the laird of Clan Cameron was one that had never crossed her mind.
She didn’t dare let him touch her again. If she did, she would be lost, and both her plan and her virtue would be compromised beyond recall.
She smiled up at him, or tried to, and stepped coyly back as he reached for her. “Och, me laird, and what’s the hurry?”
“I thought ye wanted me.”
“And so I dae, me braw laird, but there’s nae need tae rush.” She took a deep breath and tugged her laces free a little more. “Will ye nae tak’ some mead with me, tae soothe the heat? If I’m taeonly have one chance with ye, I wouldnae want passion and fire tae end it tae soon.”
“If ‘tis what ye wish, little vixen.” His smile was indulgent. “But ken, I willnae be kept waiting long, or I’ll think yer playin’ me fer a fool, and ye’ll nae like the consequences of that.”
A darker tone entered his voice, and Thora suppressed a shiver of apprehension. She knew, even without the gift of her sight whispering warnings in her mind, that he was serious. He would not appreciate being made a fool of. Not for the first time, she wished there were another way to make him listen to her.
Thora made her way over to the jug of mead on the side table, and poured out two goblets. The right-hand one received the sleeping potion. The left, a simple blend of herbs that offered a sweet scent.
“And what is that, little vixen?”
Thora smiled at him and held out the right-hand cup. “’Tis a potion the village women o’ my home make, tae ensure a man and a woman have nae regrets in the morning. I’m told ‘tis very potent… and works well.”
She accompanied the words with a tilt of her head, like she’d seen some of the maids do when they were teasing their paramours, then stepped toward him, letting her hips sway the way Ava did when she wanted to catch Kai’s attention.
“Then I hope the women o’ yer village werenae exaggerating.” He took the cup with no sign of suspicion - likely because he’d seen her put the ‘potion’ in both cups, and smirked at her, before drinking deeply.
Thora sipped her own mead with a smile of triumph. She’d feared she’d have to coax him into drinking, perhaps even sip from the cup herself to allay his suspicions, but it seemed her gambit - and perhaps the heat of desire - had worked their intended magic.
Within minutes, Aedan’s cup was empty. Thora made a show of finishing her own drink, all the while watching him closely.Hopefully he isnae one o’ those men fer whom sleep tisanes work slowly, or nae at all. Domhnall is one such, and I wouldnae be surprised if all lairds were.
