Page 79 of Bride of Fire
But she was. Every inch of him.
From the soft brown waves of his silk-fine hair to his oversized feet, currently entangled with hers.
From his broad and powerful shoulders to his lean, thrusting hips.
From the twinkling humor in his eyes to the feather-light touch of his fingers upon her skin.
And the way he’d made love to her—with his hands, with his lips, with his body—made her long to join with him again.
But there was something else.
Something that went deeper than the mere joys of trysting.
Something warm. Touching. And treacherous.
It wasn’t only attraction she felt.
For so long, she’d heard Highlanders were cruel beasts, crude and uncivilized. She’d believed the stories. That they filed their teeth to sharp points. Enslaved the children of their enemies. Hacked their servants to death in war games.
But she could see now the tales must be completely untrue.
Morgan Mor mac Giric had qualities she’d never expected to find in a savage Highlander. Qualities she’d treasure in a husband.
A strong sense of honor.
A rough-hewn nobility.
The admiration of his servants.
An even hand when it came to justice.
A sweet and caring tenderness.
A respect for her wants and needs.
Could it be she’d…fallen in love with him?
Surely that was impossible. She’d known him only a few days.
But even her own parents had started out as bitter enemies. Sometimes love took root in strange ground.
She coiled a lock of his hair around her finger. Then she frowned, letting it unravel and withdrawing her hand.
What did it matter whether she did or didn’t care for the Highlander?
Love had no place in marriage. Not when you were destined to be a laird. Besides, emotions could be as fickle as the moon.
She’d made a plan. She meant to stick to it.
She’d managed to seduce him into swiving her.
Now she had to coerce him into marrying her.
And then she’d force him to bestow the stewardship of Creagor upon her.
Her gaze followed a moonbeam down to where it bathed sweet Miles in its gentle light, and she sighed.
If she was so certain of her plan, why then was she racked with guilt over the idea of manipulating Morgan, preying upon him at his weakest, while he was still mourning Lady Alicia, his dead wife?
