Page 11 of Pretty in Plaid
And if they kept at it with this rate, they’d be caught for certain and likely naked.
“As much as I want to spend the rest of the night kissing ye right here, lass, we need to leave.” He stroked the side of her cheek, taking in the softness of her skin and how vastly different it was from his own. Silky, warm, likely the same feel as her thighs that he wanted to wrap around his hips.
What was it about Kenna Forbes that had struck him so much? What made him go from challenging her on the stairs to wanting to spend the day in her arms?
She was beautiful, her body lush, but there were dozens of women he’d met who were equally beautiful, equally round in all the right places. There was something different about Kenna. Her strength, her willingness to fight—even fighting him through her initial fear. She was not a lass to be trifled with. She was keen to challenge him back. Perhaps that was what had him mesmerized. She was not scared of him and instead offered him up every bit of what he put out.
Not to mention that she’d asked him to help her undress.
Whether it was out of necessity or not, the simple request had him weak in the knees.
Sorley had undressed dozens of women, but none had made him feel so...he wasn’t certain what, other than that his fingers had trembled slightly, her scent had intoxicated him, and his fingertips on the small of her back had sent shockwaves of desire coursing through him.
Kenna was intoxicating.
And that made her dangerous.
Except he shouldn’t be afraid of her, for he’d come here to retrieve her. To bring her back to her uncle in Skye and away from the dragoons who infested this house as if they were ants on a dropped bannock.
Why had she stayed here? Better yet, why had she saved him?
“This way.” Her hand clasped in his, she dragged him through the dark, back to the rear entrance of the vault and through a door. They were in the corridor again, judging by the dusty smell, and headed in the opposite direction.
At the end, she stopped. “Where is your horse?”
“About a mile. Halfway between here and the firth.”
“And did ye bring two?”
“Of course.”
Kenna let out an audible sigh of relief.
“’Tis no’ that I dinna wish to ride with ye,” she shared. “But we’d be faster getting away on two.”
“I am no’ offended, lass.” Though the idea of her sitting in his lap was entirely too enticing.
Kenna shoved against the door, but it didn’t budge. The sound of her hands searching against the panel echoed in the silence.
“What are ye looking for?”
“There is a latch…” Frustration laced her words.
Sorley added his hands to the mix, searching for the mysterious latch that would free them from this space, and at last, they both found it at the same time, their fingers brushing together, frissons jolting through him again.
The door creaked open like a boom at them in the dark. A sliver of moonlight filtered through the opening, giving them just a hint of light.
Kenna made a move to push the door all the way open, but he stilled her movement with his hand on hers.
“No’ just yet,” he whispered. “Listen first.”
She nodded, the top of her head brushing his chin as she did so. They both listened, hearing in the distance from the house a ruckus as the dragoons ransacked the place, looking for them both.
The house had guards posted at the gate but did not have a wall as some of the older fortifications did, and so no one would see them running unless they were specifically looking toward this opening.
When all seemed safe, they opened the door the rest of the way and Sorley stepped out into the night, his eyes adjusting, and scanned the area. Dragoons had not yet come this way. But he suspected that soon her uncle would tell—if he’d not done so already—about the vault. And if he didn’t tell the dragoons about it, then he’d likely investigate himself.
“Can ye run?” he asked her, suddenly worried that perhaps she could not.
