Page 30 of A Wife for the Highland Wolf
“Nae a fey, I daenae think, but how would I ken?” Wilma’s voice was hushed with excitement. “We should get closer.”
Just then, Hector bounded past them, tail wagging. Lydia made a grab for the dog, but it was too late. “Hector!”
The two of them followed the dog down to the edge of the pool. Wilma made a soft sound of annoyance. “Nae a fey at all, just me cousin.” She perched her hands on her hips with a scowl. “Andye, Murdoch. Ye ought to have the decency to put a shirt on when ye see ye’ve company.”
Murdoch snorted. “I dinnae ask for company and I daenae appreciate bein’ followed when I come out here to find some peace and quiet to cool down from the council meetin’.”
“As if I’d be followin’ ye for any reason, unless to remind ye of somethin’ ye should already ken.” Wilma huffed. “I was just showin’ Lydia the fairy pools. I thought she might enjoy seein’ them. I dinnae think she’d have to put up with seeing ye as well.”
Lydia tittered at Wilma’s teasing and thought she ought to speak up, but the words froze in her throat. Standing majestically before her was Murdoch, dressed in nothing more than a loin cloth. Water traced glimmering paths along toned muscles and tanned skin and caught on the myriad of scars that scattered across his frame, creating flashes of water like tiny diamonds on his skin. His dark hair cascaded untamed around his face and neck, and his eyes were the color of the water in the fairy pools.
He might not be a fey, but Murdoch magically sparked a sense of raw desire deep in her core, made her mouth dry and her heart pound with a force greater than any fey could have had on her composure.
Wilma blinked. “Ye ken, never ye mind. I’ve to get back to feed Finn and lay him down for his afternoon nap, and I’ll wager Hector is hungry too.” She turned and whistled. “Come on Hector, come with me and I’ll get ye a nice thick soup bone for ye to enjoy.”
Before Lydia could even think to protest, Wilma disappeared up the path to the castle, leaving her alone beside the fairy pool with Murdoch.
Lydia was now alone with her scantily clad betrothed and a sudden bloom of desire, neither of which she knew how to control.
17
Murdoch watched Lydia’s face flush deeply. She seemed torn between hurrying after his cousin and staying right where she was. Her conundrum made Murdoch smile.
He’d been irritated when he’d first seen Hector bounding over to greet him and listened to Wilma’s strident words. After all, he’d come out to the fairy pools for privacy, a place to relax, cool his temper and clear his head. Being interrupted as he finished his swim was the last thing he’d needed.
At least, that is what he’d thought until he’d seen the way Lydia’s gaze traveled over him, and noted the rising flush in her cheeks. Her widened eyes and sudden blush chased away all of his irritation, leaving him free to appreciate Lydia in turn.
Lydia Knox was a beautiful woman. Her wind-tousled hair and rosy cheeks only added to her allure. The way that she gazed at him with unmistakable desire pleased him greatly. Her blushreminded him she was still a maiden and that pleased him even more.
Murdoch took a step forward. Lydia took a step back. He silently watched as her expression wavered between nervousness and curiosity. Maiden she may be but she was no shy and shrinking damsel. “Afraid of me?”
As he’d expected, her chin rose and her eyes met his in that defiant manner that always made his blood simmer and his manhood stiffen. “Why would I be?”
Murdoch laughed, his eyes holding hers as he stepped closer and reached out to cup her cheek with one callused hand. “Why? Because every time I’m near ye, especially when we’re alone, I find meself wanting to break yer rules.”
Lydia blinked, her expression unfocused, clearly showing that he had her attention. Nevertheless, she managed an arched brow and a soft, teasing response. “Ye mean…ye daenae want to dine with me in the evenings?”
Murdoch rumbled, pulling her close enough for him to feel the heat of her body and the soft warmth of her breath on his chest. “Ye ken very well that’s nae the rule I’m speakin’ of breakin’.”
He bent his head, his lips claiming her soft, full ones in a slow kiss. It wasn’t as searing or as sharp as the one they’d shared in the corridor the day before, but it was no less heady. She tasted like wine, sweet cakes and sunlight, her hands soft as they clutched at his shoulders.
He swept his tongue across the delicate crease of her lips as she opened her mouth, letting him explore and claim her. Their tongues danced together, vying for dominance, as he swept one arm around her waist, and the other hand came up to cup her head.
They broke apart panting deeply. His arousal strained against his loincloth, making him ache in a way he’d never before experienced.
Her eyes sparkled like emeralds with stars trapped in their depths. “If that’s the way ye break the rules, we’ll have a fair chaste wedding night indeed.”
“Vixen.” He tipped her chin up as he pulled her flush against him. “Ye said ye’d decide, nay, that I couldnae tempt ye to decide in me favor. Are ye going to run from me now, or tell me to let ye go?”
“I’ll nae run, but ye’ve nae convinced me to rescind me condition yet …me Laird.” Her gaze was hot and coaxing, teasing and demanding, and yet still infused with a shadow of innocence. Her artless temptation made his blood race and his heart soar. His body strained and begged for some release.
He bent to whisper in her ear, his voice raw with desire. “Shall I show ye what it means to be a wife and lover to a laird, Lydia Knox?”
“Can ye, without breaking yer word to respect me conditions? For I rather think that’s a thing I’d be interested to see,Murdoch.” His name slid off her tongue with a smoothness of the most potent whiskey, and the heat it produced was just as strong and intoxicating.
He swept her back to lay amid the soft grasses at the edge of the pool, a beautiful flower amid the green. “Aye. That I can.”
Lydia swallowed nervously as Murdoch bent over her, his eyes dark with desire, his expression sharp with a hunger she felt echoed in the deepest core of her being. A part of her wanted to escape, but a greater part of her wanted to stay, to feel his touch and his warmth.
