Page 122 of The Devil of Clan Sinclair
He bent and kissed the tip of her nose.
“I’ll be right back,” he said.
She watched him walk away. How could a man be as attractive from the rear as he was facing her? His shoulders were broad beneath the white shirt, his back tapering to a lean waist, long legs, and beautiful derriere. His neck fascinated her, as did the shape of his head, his arms, even his large hands. What didn’t intrigue her about Macrath Sinclair?
He had such energy. Surely everyone knew he was a different sort of person the minute he walked into a room. Macrath was a magical being, someone who’d decided on his course in life and would do everything in his power to reach his goals.
Macrath Sinclair was not a normal man or an average one.
Who was she to think she could resist him?
Because he would have stepped away the moment she asked. He would have kissed her cheek and left her. He would have smiled and walked away.
Why was it so impossible to refuse him?
How much easier when they remembered their hurt rather than the passion between them.
She should stand right now, leave this place and return to Drumvagen. Instead, what she truly wanted was for him to love her. Perhaps for the last time.
If he had any sense at all, he wouldn’t have sought her out, knowing what happened when he got too close to Virginia. Macrath’s mind simply relinquished any will to his body. He wanted her desperately, and all the pent-up celibacy of the last year strained to be released.
The fact he hadn’t bedded her in the last week was a damn miracle. Right now he was tired of being superhuman.
“There’s nothing there,” he said, returning to the gazebo. “Perhaps a curious hawk. Or a rabbit, hiding in the leaves.”
Her smile was a beautiful thing, moving him to place a kiss on her forehead. He wished he could stop time, freeze them both in tender foreplay.
She pulled away. Before he could marshal his arguments why he should continue to kiss her, she startled him by walking to the back of the gazebo, sitting, and starting to unfasten the rest of the buttons on her bodice.
He came and sat beside her, replacing her hands with his.
She didn’t speak or dissuade him, for which he was grateful. Instead, she smiled at him again, making him dumbstruck with acute lust and love at the sight of her.
Lowering his head, he placed a kiss at the base of her throat, then trailed a line of kisses down to the top of her black edged shift.
She shivered in response, another reaction for which he was thankful.
He possessed a mechanical mind, but the busk of her corset almost defeated him. Finally, it separated, allowing him to see her shift, and below, the shadow of her glorious breasts.
“I remember loving you in the middle of the day,” he said. “In the bright sunlight.”
She looked away, and he turned her face with a finger to her chin.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Virginia. I thought you were magnificent. It’s one of my favorite memories.”
Her cheeks bloomed with color. “I like to think Elliot was conceived then.”
Bending, he placed his lips around one nipple, gently sucking.
“They’re larger,” he said, drawing one fingertip over the slope of a breast and down to the nipple.
“An effect of bearing your son,” she said.
Such a comment should not have had the effect of hardening him even further, but strangely, it did. He wanted her now. He wanted to simply widen her legs, loosen his confining trousers, and enter her. He’d hold her, looking into her eyes as he buried himself to the hilt.
Instead, he bit back his impatience and looked away, concentrating on the thick growth of trees until he could control the lust surging through his body.
Her fingers danced along his jaw, traced the edge of his bottom lip, teasing until he looked at her.
