Page 39 of Highlander of Steel
“Why should ye be scared?” He frowned, his eyes flitting to her lips.
“Because… I’m alone with ye, far from anythin’ and anyone,” she replied, a breathy gasp slipping past her lips as he pulled her closer.
And I cannae seem to remember that ye’re me enemy. Indeed, ye’ve made me believe that ye nay longer are.
And that was a dangerous position for her to be in.
“Aye,” he said silkily. “Ye are.”
The moment his lips brushed hers, there were no more tranquil waters, but the thrashing storm of desire crashing through her, threatening to unmoor her.
She ran her hands brazenly over his chest, moaned against his mouth as he slid his palm over the swell of her backside and pushed her hips into him,wantedto dig her fingernails into his flesh, to claim him as her own with a mark on his skin.
He responded in kind, kissing her with an intensity that stole her breath and fear away. His arms crushed her to him, his hands exploring, his teeth raking across her lower lip to coax a gasp from her, half pleasure, half pain, all glorious. When his tongue danced with hers, she pulled his head down, her fingers running through his damp hair.
She simply could not get enough of him.
Not once did she think about her nightmare, Killian’s fervent kiss doing more for her nerves than half an hour of floating ever could. Indeed, it was creating a new sensation, a new experience that blotted out the bad, at least temporarily.
Pressing herself closer to him, acutely aware of his bare skin and the fact that there was nothing but a thin, wet shift between them, she savored the warmth that seeped into her. Gasped as his hand smoothed over the swell of her breast, his thumb brushing over her nipple. Moaned against his mouth as she felt his hardness poke her below the water, seeking out the heat that pooled between her thighs.
His fingertips traced a tingling line down the valley between her breasts, his palm gliding down her stomach and over the swell of her belly, inching lower.
Half a second before he touched a part of her that pulsed and throbbed, a sparking source of intense anticipation, nature saw fit to play a cruel trick on them.
A great wave suddenly smacked into them, icy cold to douse their ardor. The top of it crashed over Ailis’s head, and her exploring hands shot up to grab his shoulders, clinging on to him for dear life.
She was under for a moment before Killian’s arms lifted her up and out. Her legs locked around his waist, and she buried herface in his shoulder and looped her arms around his neck, not caring if she accidentally strangled him.
“Ye’re all right,” Killian crooned. “Ye’re all right, lass. I’ve got ye. I’m nae lettin’ go of ye.”
He began to wade toward the shore, one arm sitting snugly beneath her backside like a shelf, his other hand between her shoulder blades, holding her to him.
Curse ye,she muttered silently to the sea.
Just when she had started to have a good experience—agreatexperience—in the water, the waves had ruined it.
Ailis clung to him like an oversized limpet until he reached the sand, and even then, she slid down slowly. A grimace of displeasure twisted her mouth as her feet touched the wet, grainy sand again.
“We’ll come back tomorrow,” Killian said, leading her over to the rock where she had set her dress down.
There, he urged her to sit, and she put up no fight. His dry shirt was lying in the sand beside the rock, and as she shivered, the water cooling on her skin, his gentle touch startled her. He kneeled in front of her and took her foot, carefully dusting off the sand with his shirt before he slid her foot into her shoe.
He repeated the process with her other foot, his hand curving around her ankle as he blew and brushed away the irksome sand. The touch was so intimate and unexpected that she forgot how cold she was and just stared at him, studying the lines of concentration on his handsome face.
“There’s nothin’ so irritatin’ as sand in yer shoes,” he said by way of explanation, lifting his gaze to hers.
She noted that his attention briefly drifted to her breasts, his eyes darkening for a moment. Despite the temperature and the mood being shattered by that wave, she looked back at him with her lips slightly parted, willing him to touch her again.
Instead, he got up and tossed his shirt into her lap. “Dry yerself as much as ye can. Have one of the maids take yer dress to the laundry as soon as we return, so it doesnae stain with the salt.”
Astonished and bewildered, and not for the first time, it took Ailis a minute before she did as he asked.
All too soon, they were making their way back up the cliff—Ailis clothed and shoed, Killian bare-chested and barefoot—leaving the confusing sea behind them.
She wasn’t sure if it would make much difference to her nightmares, but as she heaved herself up the last few steps and turned back to look at that sparkling water, the nerves and the sickness and the abject panic didn’t come. There was a minor current, but it merely flowed through her, rather than trying to drag her down and sweep her into a fit of terror.
Manageable.
