Page 58 of The Rogue's Bride
Their gazes fused. Alasdair didn’t answer, and so she continued.
“When ye returned to Duntulm it didn’t take me long to realize ye are ten times the man yer brother was. Had I seen that years ago, I could have spared us both a lot of pain.”
Alasdair’s mouth twisted. “As could I … if I hadn’t been so bitter.”
“Ye have been through a lot in the past years,” she said softly. “I admire yer strength.”
Alasdair shook his head. His gaze dropped to the flagstone floor between them, and a tear trickled down his cheek. Watching him, Caitrin’s throat constricted.
Long moments passed, and then, wordlessly, he moved toward her, bridging the gulf between them. Reaching out, he gently took hold of her wrist.
The feel of his fingers, warm and strong, against her skin made Caitrin draw in a sharp breath. Gaze still averted, he drew her hand toward him, before turning it over and placing his lips upon the fluttering pulse inside her wrist.
Caitrin stopped breathing.
His lips seared her skin. She felt naked standing before him.
Alasdair gently trailed his lips down from her wrist to the palm of her hand. He kissed her gently there, holding her hand against his face. Instinctively, Caitrin spread her fingers against his cheek. It was wet. She curved her fingertips under the lean line of his jaw and felt his pulse, pounding as fast as hers.
Caitrin closed her eyes as her own tears slid silently down her face.
She’d been resisting this for months now. She couldn’t deny it any longer. She couldn’t keep lying to herself, telling herself that it was better to remain alone. Like the waxing moon and the turning of the seasons, this thing between them couldn’t be stopped. While they both drew breath, it would torment them.
Caitrin’s lips parted, but the sigh that escaped her quickly turned into a gasp when Alasdair pulled her into his arms. Yet, instead of kissing her, his lips trailed over her face, brushing away her tears. The touch, feather-light, yet overwhelmingly sensual, made her limbs tremble.
“Ye are everything to me,” he whispered as his lips trailed down her jaw. “I can’t pretend anymore.”
And then his mouth captured Caitrin’s, his lips slanting hungrily over hers.
The kiss was wild, devouring. Caitrin let out a soft moan. She reached out with her free hand—for he still gripped the wrist he’d kissed—her fingers splaying out over his heart.
Alasdair ended the kiss then, his breathing ragged. He stared down at her. “The thought of ye wedding another tears me up inside.”
Caitrin stifled a gasp. His voice sent shivers of need across her skin.
He pulled her hard against him this time, cupping the back of her head with his hands while he kissed her again. Caitrin leaned into him, her body turning molten as his tongue parted her lips. She’d never known a kiss like this, had no idea a kiss could make her pulse with raw need.
When Alasdair drew back once more, she struggled to draw breath.
“Tell me to stop, and I will,” he said, his voice ragged, his eyes aflame. “Otherwise I’m going to make ye mine.”
Chapter Twenty-six
Mo Leannan
CAITRIN GAZED UP at Alasdair. His words had rendered her speechless.
“Do ye wish me to leave ye be?” A nerve flickered in Alasdair’s jaw. He held her in the cage of his arms, and she felt tension ripple through him. He thought she would push him away, send him from her.
Caitrin drew in a trembling breath. “No,” she whispered. “Stay.”
That was all he needed.
Alasdair lowered his head and claimed her mouth once more, pulling her against him. The heat of his body hard against hers was searing. Caitrin reached up, her arms entwining around his neck as she sought to pull him closer still.
His hands slid down her back as he kissed her, his touch firm and sensual. The feel of his hands exploring her body pushed all thoughts, all cares from her mind. The world shrank to the feel of his tongue, his lips, to his hands that now shifted to her breasts, opening her robe and untying the laces of her night-rail. Moments later, the garments fell to the floor.
Caitrin stood naked before him.
