Page 45 of The Devil of Clan Sinclair
She had come to him. Not only yesterday, but last night. She had come to him. All those nights of sitting and staring at the fire, wondering if she had found bliss in her husband’s arms—all those questions had been answered. Another miracle—she was nearly a virgin. She’d moaned in wonder and disbelief, and he had been the one to bring her those sensations, to gift her with satisfaction.
He pressed his cheek against hers, synchronized his breathing to hers, pressed his hand against the small of her back, wanting to know her more intimately than any other person.
“You’ve been in my dreams for so long,” he said, giving her the truth. “I wanted to know what it was like to touch you. Now that I know, I’ll never forget.”
A moment later he pulled back. “Are you crying, Virginia?”
She buried her face against his chest.
“Is that a no?” he asked when she sighed. “Or a yes?”
“You mustn’t keep doing that,” she said. “You bring me to tears with your words, Macrath.”
He enfolded her in his arms again, pressed her cheek against his chest, feeling a burst of tenderness for her.
“What a terrible woman I am to be in another man’s arms.”
“Newly widowed.”
“Yes,” she said.
His conscience, restrained until now, shook free of its ropes. “And I should release you.”
Neither moved.
Long moments went by before he reached up and pulled free the tantalizing braid she wore, starting to unplait it.
“Another dream of mine,” he said as she rested acquiescent in his arms. “To see your hair around your shoulders.”
She remained still, encapsulated by sunlight, a radiant woman with flushed cheeks and full lips.
Gulls serenaded them, the tide adding a layer of soft sound.
The desire coursing through him was a languid thing. He didn’t need instant completion as much as simply to touch her, breathe in her air.
“Are you seducing me?” she asked, reaching up to press her lips against his throat.
“Is it working?”
He felt her lips curve against his skin.
“Have you had a great many lovers?” she asked, sounding more British than American at the moment.
“Not all that many,” he said.
She stiffened and he called himself ten times a fool.
“But there were some?”
What kind of idiot discusses his past while holding the woman he loves in his arms?
Pulling back, she peered into his face. “Did they all seduce you? All those women? Or did you seduce them?”
He didn’t get the chance to answer. Her hands came up and pressed against the back of his neck, forcing his head down. She kissed him, not the soft and gentle kisses she’d given him before.
Her mouth opened, her tongue explored his, measuring the contours of his lips.
This moment, this time, with the sound of the sea and the tide and the bright glare of the sunlight warming his back, was unique. A memory he would recall forever.
