Page 158 of The Highlander's Holiday Wife

A faint smile lifted his oh-so-tempting mouth. His hand rested lightly on her thigh, barely caressing her, and the roughened tips of his fingers sent shivers cascading over her skin. But he made no other move. He simply waited.

Even in the dark days of the past, Samantha had never thought of herself as a coward, but this moment filled her with trepidation. At the same time, she felt a longing for Braden so fierce that her heart could barely contain it. Her new life patiently waited, right in front of her. All she had to do was reach for it. Itwouldbe a kind of surrender—not to Braden, but to herself.

She wanted that surrender with every fiber of her being.

Her husband lifted an eyebrow, as if to say,Well, lass?

“Challenge accepted,” she whispered.

His faint smile flashed into a grin, and then he brought his other hand to the back of her neck, urging her head down to his. Samantha felt her eyes drift shut, and then their lips met.

Braden’s mouth took her with sensual sweetness, nuzzling her lips and then slipping inside. It was a beautiful plundering, passionate and yet infinitely tender, so tender that tears gathered behind her eyelids.

With a murmured sigh, Samantha let her body relax, melting into him. His hands moved to her hips, cradling her against him. Braden was tall and lean, but muscular for all that. She nestled against his chest, relishing the feel of him. There was so much latent strength in his powerful body, always carefully leashed and under control.

Braden unleashed.

It was a ravishing thought. All that masculine strength let loose, all focused on her. Instinctively, Samantha deepened the kiss, snuggling closer, tangling her tongue with his.

He groaned, a low rumble that vibrated between them. She had to resist the temptation to rub her breasts against his muscled chest, because they were on the floor of their drawing room, and to behave in so—

But when Braden nipped her lower lip and then sucked it into his mouth, rational thought went up in smoke. She whimpered and dug her hands into his shoulders, eagerly opening to his now ravenous exploration. The world disappeared, leaving her oblivious to everything but the feel of his body, and his hands as they moved back to her thighs, caressing her naked skin.

Their kiss grew so hot and wet that she started to tremble. A lovely ache began to build between her thighs, one she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Kisses flowed one into another, as his mouth teased hers with languid sensuality and an unspoken promise of more to come.

When his hand moved to her backside, clamping her tight, Samantha gasped. His erection, formidably hard, rubbed against her sex. Her body lit up, and she went boneless with desire, wanting more—so much more.

When he flexed his hips, pressing hard between her thighs, she couldn’t hold back a moan. She squirmed, fighting a driving need to let him do whatever he wanted, right here and right now.

Then what are you waiting for?

Braden suddenly broke the kiss, and Samantha came up for air with a shattered breath.

“God, sweetheart,” he growled, his brogue as deep as night. “I’ve wanted this for so long. I want you, Samantha. All of you.”

She tried to focus through the sensual haze clouding her brain. She wanted it, too, but something was tugging at the back of her brain, holding her back. It was that final secret, the one thatneededto be told. But the idea of sharing it with anyone, much less Braden, filled her with shame.

His gaze suddenly grew sharp. “What’s wrong, Samantha?”

“I . . . I . . . nothing,” she stuttered.

Braden grimaced. “No, I’m pushing you before you’re ready. Forgive me, sweetheart, I’m an idiot.”

When he started to shift, as if to lift her off, Samantha clamped her hands onto his shoulders. She couldn’t bear the look of guilt on his face. He’d done nothing but love and protect her, always putting her needs before his.

“No, it’s not that,” she managed in a shaky voice. “It’s something else. Something I need to tell you.”

His stark expression eased as he gently stroked the tumbled hair back from her brow. “You can tell me anything, love. Nothing can change the way I feel about you.”

She hoped so, but anxiety twisted her insides. She was caught between the desperate need to tell him and the fear that he would think less of her if she did.

“Whatever it is,” he said in a soothing tone, “it’s all right.”

“I know,” she said, trying to really believe that.

“Do you want to get up?”

“No. I want you to keep holding me.”

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