Page 29 of The Groom Wore Plaid
She flinched.
“Let’s return to your education. I can work with you on your studies, answering questions, explaining things. It won’t be long before you’ll be learning from every book in this library—including that one on contracts.”
She watched him with suspicion. “And . . . ?”
“And we’ll have time to discover each other as adults instead the foolish youths we once were.”You’ll learn to trust me.
“Ye mean the foolish youthyouonce were.”
He’d been sailing through the calm waters of his life, challenged by little, mastering everything he tried. But Maggie was a storm blowing in, one that a captain could stand on the deck and face with bold challenge.
After a heavy sigh, she said, “Very well, I cannot resist the lure of these books. They’ll help me figure out a plan to salvage the contract between our families. But Owen, I’ll not marry ye.”
“There isn’t another way to satisfy the marriage contract, Maggie. You’re the only McCallum daughter, and I have no brothers. This courtship and marriage are the only logical decisions to make, whereas you seem to want to base this decision only on emotions and flights of fancy.”
“Flights of fancy?” she echoed, those storm clouds rising up again in her sea-colored eyes.
He took another step closer. His words had been a challenge, for Maggie didn’t move, only lifted her chin and glared at him.
He cupped her cheek with one hand. “You look tempting when your emotions blaze.”
She tried to push his hand away, but he only used his other arm and pulled her closer.
“You cannot pretend you didn’t enjoy our last kiss.” He dipped his head.
“No pretense is necessary.”
She kept space between their bodies, and he wasn’t about to force himself on her. There was no need. He buried his face against her neck, nuzzling her hair, bringing out all the sweetness of lavender.
“The scent of you intoxicates me,” he whispered against her ear.
He gently bit her earlobe, and she gave a start.
Then Owen went against every instinct and stepped away from her, hoping he left her wanting more. “We’ll start your education tonight.”
“Education?”
“Not your education in lovemaking.” He enjoyed her blush. “Until this evening.”
CHAPTER7
It wasn’t until Maggie was outside that she felt she could breathe again. She’d felt desperate to be away from the oppressive opulence of the castle and everything it was supposed to mean for her future.
The courtyard was relatively empty after the departure of Lady Aberfoyle’s traveling party, but still, she could see grooms raking hay in the stables, hear the carpenter’s saw. She longed for a little garden where she could pace in peace, but everything was grown in the fields surrounding the moat. At least she thought so until she went past the corner of the towerhouse and found a little stone half wall near the well, surrounded by purple rhododendrons.
She stepped past the wall, and though part of the courtyard was still visible, she felt a little more at peace.
Until she remembered how easily Owen had set her pulse racing just by biting her earlobe.
Biting her earlobe!
It should have been revolting or at least annoying. She should remember her anger at how he’d treated her so long ago.
He’d been standing so close, she’d felt the heat of his body, smelled the scent of the outdoors. As he’d spoken, his breath on her cheek was shockingly erotic. And then he’d . . . smelled her, smelled her hair or her neck or . . . even now, it made her tremble. Why? The sensation of arousal was so frustrating and inexplicable. But arousal it had been, for she’d felt a clenching deep between her thighs and a heat that shimmered across her skin.
And then he’d bit her, and she’d actually lost strength in her knees. Only sheer stubbornness and pride had kept her from falling into his arms. It was both appalling and alluring. She’d agreed to his tutoring plans like a woman not in control of herself.
But what else could she have done?
