My Highland Love (Highland Lords, #1)

"He would have carried you onto the ship."

"Damnable men," she muttered.

"What of Amelia's father?"

"He did not survive."

That Marcus knew, but he found it strange that Elise's story didn't include her husband. Too painful, he realized, and said, "I'm sorry, lass."

"Fate is strange," she murmured.

"You can't blame yourself for their deaths," Marcus said.

"You would be amazed at what I can do."

Marcus felt a tremor pass through her. He hugged her closer. "Dinna' say more."

"Seems a bit late for that," she remarked in a dry tone.

He sighed. "Lass, you could remain here quiet all night and I wouldna' complain."

She looked up at him. "It is not… common—for a brother and sister, that is—but Steven was my friend. I shall never find that kind of trust again."

His gaze fell on her left hand and the spot where he knew the scar was on her palm's edge. She hadn't escaped the fire completely unharmed. He took the hand, lifted it to his lips and kissed the scar. He placed the hand around his waist, then slid a hand into her hair and tilted her head upward.

"Are ye sure?" he asked.

Her mouth parted with quiet surprise. He had promised himself he wouldn't touch her. Yet his head lowered and his mouth covered hers of its own volition. Elise offered no resistance when he parted her lips with his tongue. He tightened his hold, the fire in him hot. Still, he kept the kiss soft, his tongue thrusting gently in her mouth. She relaxed. His groin tightened and he ended the kiss. He sighed. His only choice now was to take her home or take her there.





Chapter Seven


"Are you sure?"

The memory of Marcus's warm breath brushing her skin as he whispered the question made Elise shiver. She squinted up at thick morning sunlight streaming down between heavy storm clouds. Daylight brought no more clarity than had the sleepless night. She paused at the rock, which marked the halfway point on the hill between Brahan Seer and the village, and sat down. She worked the boot from her left foot.

"Infernal pebbles." She turned the boot upside down and shook the irksome item free.

The pebble hit the stony ground with a click. Elise strained to see it, then, shaking her head, stuck her foot in the boot and tugged. Her heel caught on the heel grip. She tugged harder but to no avail.

"Good Lord." She jumped to her feet.

She stomped her foot on the ground. The heel jammed even harder on the heel grip and her foot turned, tumbling her to the ground. She sat for a moment, surveying the skirts thrown up around her thighs, and sighed. Drawing her knees to her, Elise tugged the skirts down over her legs. She propped an elbow on one knee and placed her chin on the heel of a palm.

Foolish endeavor. All the peevishness in the world wouldn't change the fact she wanted him—more than that—hungered for him. Last night had passed in snatches of erotic dreams with Marcus suckling her breasts, then sliding down along her belly and finally between her legs.

Even in better days, Robert hadn't moved her as Marcus had by simply holding her close as he had last night. Her pulse quickened. She had nearly blurted Robert's name. How many more days—and nights—could she hazard with Marcus MacGregor?



Marcus glanced at the hearth as he entered his library. The fire burned low but cast enough light so he could make his way through the shadowy darkness to his desk. He lit the candle sitting there and seated himself before an open ledger. Despite the hour, sleep eluded him.

He laughed. "It wouldn't be the taste of Elise's lips that has your mind churning?" he mused, but knew good and well his cock and not his mind was doing the churning. He forced his attention to the numbers.

Sometime later, Marcus glanced at the hearth, abruptly aware of a chill in the room. The fire had all but expired. He rose and went to the fireplace. He threw a log on the dying embers and stoked them. After hooking the poker in the holder, he lowered himself into the armchair beside the hearth. Stretching his legs out before him, he crossed ankle over ankle and relaxed against the cushion. Heat slowly worked its way up his body. He closed his eyes and dozed.

Marcus jerked awake, aware someone had entered the room. He glanced at the mantel clock. Just after two. Who would invade his library at this hour? The shadow cast by the intruder's taper glided across the wall then came to a halt. He heard the clink of the brass holder being placed on his desk and twisted to peer around the edge of his chair. His body tightened when he saw the prowler was none other than the Caesg responsible for his sleepless night.

Elise stood, wrapped in a plaide blanket, perusing the books on the shelf behind his desk. His gaze dropped to the shoulder laid bare where blanket and chemise had slipped to her arm.

She shivered and drew the blanket closer about her shoulders as she glanced in the direction of the hearth. Their eyes met and he grinned. She started.