Page 46 of The Highlander and The Lady of Misrule

“Lucy,” he breathed, his jack finding the edge of her heat. She opened her eyes, her lips open for breath, and he surged into her, thrusting deep into her still-clenching body.

“Oh, my God,” she cried and thrust back against him until he couldn’t climb higher within her. He groaned, withdrawing, but her legs came up to clasp around his hips, urging him back into her, and he thrust again. Both of them cried out with deep need, and Greer started a rhythm.

“Yes, keep going,” Lucy said near his ear as she clung to him.

She tilted more and propping herself up to him as he thrust into her over and over. He clasped her hip bone, amazed at how fragile yet how strong she was. Sliding slightly up her body, Greer continued to strum inside and out, the coil in him tightening with power.

“Oh Greer,” she cried, and he felt her whole body tense around him, her fingers digging into his biceps as she held on.

He answered her with the deep groan of release, his mouth coming down on hers in a fiery kiss. Their mouths clung together as their bodies slowed, wringing out all the pleasure they could.

After long moments of slowing, Greer rolled to Lucy’s side, bringing her with him into the circle of his arms. Her body still trembled slightly, pressing against him in a slow rhythm below. He ran his fingers through her hair, kissing her cheeks and each of her closed eyes.

A smile blossomed, and she blinked open to stare into his own eyes. “I definitely prefer ravished and wanton,” she whispered.

His mouth curved into a large smile, making her eyes open wide. “I won a true smile from the broody Highlander,” she said. “’Tis a Christmas miracle.”

*

Lucy lay beforethe fire amongst the blankets that Greer had pulled off his bed. Light and heat radiated from the charred remains in the hearth, warming her face. The wood snapped every so often, and she watched the cinders glow red when the wind blew down the chimney.

Greer was like a warm blanket against her back as he curved around her. He was completely naked while she had worn her smock through their vigorous, fabulous romp. The thin white fabric had been tugged down and rucked up, but stayed on, hiding the worst of her scars, the ones of her stomach and back.

Greer had brought her again to shattering before they’d both fallen to sleep in front of the raging fire. From the looks of the embers, she guessed it was the hour before dawn.

“Are you asleep?” she whispered.

“Aye.”

His lie made her grin. She rolled onto her back. Dawn lightened the sky beyond the window behind him. “I better get back to my room before Cordy finds me gone and sends for William to search for me.”

He pushed up on one elbow, and she looked up into his face. Greer Buchanan was the most ruggedly handsome man she’d ever met. His dark, longish hair lay tousled and free about his head. Dark eyes, that she knew were blue-gray in the sunlight, were framed with dark lashes. She reached up to touch his short-clipped beard. “You’ve lost your smile.”

The corner of his mouth rose. “I would rather the sun not rise until ye moan my name again.”

“Rogue,” she said, smiling broadly. She sat up, her smock hiding her, but he took her ugly arm. He kissed the back of her hand as if the skin was smooth. Instinctively she pulled it, but he didn’t let go. It became a mild tug of war, and he kissed it again.

“Greer,” she said, and he finally released it.

“Ye are beautiful, Lucy, every bit of ye. I don’t like ye feeling ye aren’t.”

Her smile faded. “Let’s not start the day with lies.”

He stared in her eyes. “I don’t lie.”

Lucy huffed and stuck out her leg where her stocking had been slowly rolled off her last night. Bending and turning it so he could see her calf, she pointed at one dark mark that was mangled by a burn that had only made it look worse. “That part of me is not beautiful.”

Greer lay his full palm over it. “What was done to ye was ugly and wrong,” he said.

She looked away but he bent his head around to capture her gaze. “What I see is that ye survived it and have continued without bitterness making ye cruel and ugly toward people. Even with what the queen dictates, ye work bravely here at court, helping others.”

Lucy pulled her leg out from under his hand and stood, her smock covering her to her ankles. “Fortunately, ’tis in my nature to be happy.” She smiled. “Or else I would be a poor creature indeed. But I know how horrid my marks are and how they would be viewed by the court and my friends. ’Tis good I can keep them hidden.”

Greer stood to his full height, and Lucy’s breath caught at the sight of his muscular form. So unashamed by his growing jack, he looked at her. “Would ye tell that to Alyce? That she should stay hidden because people would see her as horrid?”

“Of course not,” Lucy said, trying to act as if he were fully clothed and not the god-like creature who had brought her such ecstasy. “But you saw how people view her, how they thought she was a leper. She will be treated thus her whole life.”

“By ignorant people who base a whole person solely on their cover instead of what lies beneath in their heart.”

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