My Highland Lord (Highland Lords, #2)

“Not a complete stranger,” he said softly. “We know one another better than many who marry.”


“I want freedom, sir, not marriage.” By heavens, if Redgrave could hear her, he would paddle her, then dismiss her from Her Majesty's service.

“You act as if marriage is a prison,” Kiernan said.

“Easy for you to talk. You won't have to change your life one iota.”

“Your opinion of me is gratifying,” he said in a dry tone. “What sort of freedom do you want?”

Another question she was unprepared to answer. Alistair's words came back to her. "If he is an honorable man, you could do worse." If her spying turned up no incriminating evidence against Kiernan, she would still be able to call off the wedding.

“The kind that doesn't put me at the beck and call of a husband,” she muttered.

“I don't plan on making a slave of you,” he said.

The gentleness in his voice startled her. “Yes—well, I didn't mean to imply you meant to chain me up.”

“Oh?” he murmured. “That idea has some appeal.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Never mind. I'm a reasonable man. I promise not to ask too much of you.”

“No heir, then?” she asked.

“I had hoped, of course.”

“Since I didn't plan on marrying, I didn't plan on children.”

“A logical conclusion,” he agreed. “Now that you will marry, however…”

“There we have it,” Phoebe said. “By the time I'm fat with your third child I will have no other choice but to follow your every command while you continue on as you always have.”

“My dear,” she heard the smile in his voice, “only a moment ago you were defending my fidelity.”

“You weren't guilty of Lady Halsey’s accusations.”

“But I will commit future crimes.”

“You aren't marrying me for love, Ashlund. Don't pretend you will be faithful to a wife for whom you feel no tenderness.”

“I feel a great deal of tenderness for you, and to prove it, I will allow you all the freedom you desire.”

“You won't question where I go at night?”

A long silence drew out between them before he replied in a neutral tone, “If you are asking, if I will stop you from going where you please, the answer is no, as long as you have no secret assignation.”

“If I wish to travel?”

“What man would deny his wife the luxury of travel?”

“What of my finances?” she asked.

“Your inheritance is yours to do with as you please.”

“I have no intention of changing how I dress, my friends, the parties I attend. I am often not home until sunrise.”

“It will please me to watch the sunrise with you.” He grasped her shoulders. “Do we have a bargain?” He pulled her close.

“I'll give it thought,” she said, though her mind had gone blank at the pressure of his thighs against hers.

“Do my terms please you?”

“I-I can't say.”

Kiernan chuckled. “I can please you in many ways.”

“I'm sure you will do your best, sir.” Her heart, she realized, was pounding.

“Are you?” he asked. “It's only fair you understand exactly what you're getting. Perhaps, then, the sunrise will hold less attraction.”

Kiernan’s arms slid around her as his mouth brushed hers. His teeth closed gently over her bottom lip. Phoebe froze, startled by the tender nips. He released her lip then ran his tongue along the edge of her mouth. She gripped his shoulders, intending to push him away, but when he prodded her mouth with his tongue, she forgot the impulse in favor of the surprise that parted her lips. He slid his tongue inside and suddenly she was aware of his heat and—heaven help her—the bulge that dug into her abdomen.

A low groan rumbled from his chest and an answering heat pooled between her legs. He angled her head back and deepened the kiss, pressing her closer, though she wouldn’t have thought that possible. An unexpected ache throbbed in her nipples and she tightened her hold on his shoulders before realizing the action. His mouth slid from hers, down along her cheek and to her neck. Her flesh seemed to shiver where he touched her and the shiver traveled down her back and stomach to meet at the juncture between her legs.

Kiernan broke off his kiss and buried his face in her hair. "I've wanted to do that since the last time I kissed you."

Her legs felt like jelly.

“I understand what you want,” he whispered. He ran his tongue along her ear. By heavens, her legs were going to buckle. “I'll court you as I should have in the beginning,” he said.

“I won't marry before a year,” she managed.

“A year?” He sucked gently on her earlobe.

“A year.” Phoebe cursed the unsteadiness in her voice.

“A year's engagement is proper." He nibbled on her jaw. “In that time, I will pursue you, court you, and, lastly, seduce you.” He hugged her tighter, pressed the hard length of himself closer. “Beware," he whispered, "this is but the courting. When the seduction begins, you will be unable to resist.”

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