Page 27 of The Highlander's Virgin Widow
“Aye.That.”
“I apologize if I have wronged ye, M’Laird. Since ye mentioned that ye couldnae sleep last night, I thought a companion might do ye some good,” Keira explained in an apologetic tone.
The corners of his lips quirked up. “Ye came to me room, nae the other way round, remember?”
“I was just trying to help, Mr. Kinca?—”
“Laird.And what, ye thought it would be fun to anger me with such games?”
Keira placed her hands over her heart, a dramatic gasp escaping her lips. “Anger ye? I could never do that to ye.”
She was aware, to a point, just how close they were. His face was barely a foot from hers. She could see clearly the brown in his eyes. It was the second and rather clearer time she noticed just how deep it was—so brown it was almost black. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stared at him, at the set of his jaw and his piercing gaze.
“So ye want to please me? If ye dinnae want to anger me, it can only mean ye promise to do everything I say when I say it,” he murmured, moving closer to her, a slight smirk playing on his lips.
“Nay.” She finally dropped all pretense. “Ye may be the so-calledLairdof this castle, but the last thing ye will ever do is force me to obey ye.”
He leaned in, his nose almost grazing hers. “Ye are unrelenting, do ye ken that?”
“And ye are the most insufferable and, frankly speaking, despicable man I have ever?—”
“Och!” he groaned and pulled her toward him, closing the gap between them.
His lips crashed into hers, and for a second, the world seemed to stop. Their tongues danced and battled as his lips moved frantically against hers, almost like he was fighting for dominance.
Keira slid her hand up to his neck and arched into him. His hands found her waist and pulled her even closer.
The kiss grew harder and more frantic as Keira pushed him back toward the door, the feel of his hard chest beneath her hands sending bolts of arousal through her body as she pressed him against the creaky door. Their passion and longing grew as the kiss deepened.
But then Keira broke the kiss and gulped in a lungful of air, feeling flushed from head to toe. She stared at Evander, whose lips were slightly parted.
“What the—” she sputtered, panting for breath.
10
Keira stared at him, as if what had just happened was anyone’s fault but her own. Disbelief flashed across her face.
Nay. Nay. Absolutely nae.
Time seemed to stop, and for what seemed to be the next minute or two, she couldn’t think of anything else. Anything except the way her heart continued to thump in her chest, as if any slight movement would yank it out almost immediately.
She looked around the apothecary, desperately searching for something that would pull her away from him,permanently.
That was her first kiss—and she had it with the enemy! She would know that because this was the first time she recognized how it felt.
Was this what it felt like to be kissed? To feel a hand roam over her body and pull her closer in the throes of desire?
The distance between them was still unnervingly small, and she could tell from Evander’s dark gaze that he was ready for more.
Except she wasn’t.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was supposed to be a mild confrontation. It was all a joke she had started in order to vex the Laird so much that he would decide to leave her castle. So why had she just locked lips with him?
This was bad. This was so bad.
Her eyes darted to the door, and she wondered for the briefest of seconds if her friend and man-at-arms were still behind it. Had they heard the groan that had escaped her lips and the low, rhythmic hum Evander made? Were they just waiting for her to come out of the room so she could be properly challenged for what she had just done?
“I need to leave,” she finally managed to say and turned around.
