Page 46 of Winter Longing
“Dangerous?”
“Ailsa, you have to marry someone else and...I don’t want to cause any trouble for that plan.”
“Cause trouble?”
“You’re intent on dragging it out of me, fine,” Cole growled, his displeasure evident in the tightness of his voice. “Yeah, trouble. As in what seems to follow me every time I’m near you, Ailsa. I’m sure you’re not blind to the fact...I want to—” He cut himself off abruptly, his mouth twisting in frustration, as though fighting to contain the words he wanted to say.
Ailsa’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink, and she felt a stirring inside her—something that quickly replaced her confusion with a mix of wonder and an unexpected thrill. She could hardly believe it, but a flicker of hope seemed to bloom within her, despite herself.
“What do ye want, Cole Carter?” she asked, her voice slipping into something softer, more inviting. She hadn’t meant to make her words sound so... coaxing. But they came out that way, almost a purr, unintentional but unmistakable.
Cole’s gaze flickered over her, his jaw tightening, as if he was struggling with something he wasn’t ready to share. The air between them thickened, heavy with expectant tension, yet still somehow fragile.
Sweet Mother of God, was it possible? Did Cole Carter feel the same unspoken awareness, the same yearning hope that pulsed within her?
Suddenly breathless, Ailsa dropped her hand which held the stirrups and stepped forward.
Chapter Thirteen
“Dinna ye want to ken me?” Ailsa asked, her words uncertain, as if she wasn’t quite sure herself. “Dinna ye want to spend time with me? Ye enjoy the moments we’ve shared. Mayhap... ye want more hours together.” She faltered, her voice dipping as she shifted from foot to foot, a nervousness creeping into her posture.
Cole noticed her chest rise and fall more quickly now, her breath betraying her unrest.
He knew it was in his best interest to remain silent.Don’t engage. Hell, he should turn and run.
“Ye do want more, actually,” she decided boldly even as her voice was small and her fingers twitched and curled. “Ye want to kiss me—have ye nae imagined it?” She took a hesitant step closer, then another, as if testing the ground beneath her feet, or gauging his reaction.
“Ailsa...” Cole growled, his gaze sliding away, a heavy warning hanging in his tone.
Christ, she was going to get him killed if she kept this up.
But she was undeterred, her voice trembling slightly but still bold. “I ken I’m nae wrong. I... I want the same.” Ailsa’s step was tentative, but there was a resolve to it as she moved within his reach. Her eyes, bright but unsure, highlighted by the healthy flush in her cheeks, didn’t leave his. “I’ve thought about kissing ye. I... I might have even instigated it, but...” She paused, and blinked nervously, “I’ve nae been kissed before.”
Cole’s eyes widened. How the hell wasthatpossible?
An image of Tavis brandishing his sword came to mind, swiftly and effectively answering that question. Next, Father Gilbert’s words echoed in his brain:she is to remain untouched.
A crime, that, to leave untouched so tempting, so exquisite a woman.
When in the next moment, she put her hand on his chest and used those blue eyes to great effect, glancing up at him with seeming innocence, an open invitation, Cole was sure he was being set up.
Yep. She’s going to get me killed.
It might almost be worth it.
Snaking one arm around her waist, he pulled her against him, their bodies colliding in a heat that defied the frigid air. His mouth claimed hers, firmly, unrelenting, a kiss meant to show her just how dangerous it was to play with fire. Almost instantly, she went rigid in his embrace, and Cole tamped down the fire inside him. He brushed his lips over hers in a deliberate tease—first one corner of her soft, trembling mouth, then the other—before pressing firmly again, urging her to yield.
When her lips parted, he deepened the kiss, claiming her with a fervor he hadn’t intended to unleash. His tongue slid against hers, seeking, tasting, conquering, and for a moment, he lost himself completely in the heady sweetness of her.
The lesson he’d meant to teach her—about the dangers of provoking him—was all but forgotten as his focus shifted to something else entirely, giving and taking pleasure. Her lips were warm, her taste intoxicating, and the soft, hesitant response she gave made his heart pound. She was inexperienced; he could feel it in the way she faltered at first, then grew bolder, mimicking his movements. Her tongue touched his tentatively, then traced and stroked in a way that sent a rush of heat coursing through him.
His blood roared, his senses sharp yet overwhelmed. The softness of her against him, the shy but growing confidence in her kiss, surpassed every expectation he hadn’t even realized he held. When her hands slid up to his shoulders, her fingerscurling into him as if she couldn’t bear to let him go, the last shred of his restraint snapped.
His brain shouted at him to stop, to pull away, to save himself from the chaos she was bound to bring into his life. But his body, his heart—they wanted none of it. Instead, he tightened his hold on her, ignoring every rational instinct that told him this was a mistake.
Nothing—absolutely nothing before this moment—had ever felt so right.
It was a long, delicious moment before Cole regained his senses and forced himself to break away, shoving her back just enough to create space between them.
