My Highland Love (Highland Lords, #1)

He shook his head. "I will go."

A few minutes later, Marcus opened Elise's door. He froze at the sight of her fast asleep in the tub. Mesmerized, he tried to throttle the dizzying current that raced through him. He had held her intimately. Yet those encounters had not prepared him for the sight of her naked. Earlier, he had teased her mercilessly, knowing full well she wouldn't give in. Now, she lay before him in all her womanly splendor, his for the taking.

In his mind's eye, he saw himself lift her from the water. Her eyes would flutter open to register first surprise, then desire. Desire streaked through him. A blush crept up her neck as he slid is gaze to her breasts. When he pressed her close, the moisture that clung to her skin dampened his shirt. Water dripped from her body and across the floor as he carried her to the bed. He laid her on the bed, coming down on top of her—Marcus jarred from the vision. The throb in his groin deepened and he couldn't halt his gaze from moving down Elise's body, past her breasts, along her stomach to the curls below. He closed his eyes. If he took her now, she might acquiesce but would later blame him, feeling he had taken advantage in a moment of weakness.

God help him, she would be right.

If he took a single step toward her, nothing could call him back.

Marcus whirled. Behind him, sweet victory whispered. Then laughed.





Chapter Ten


Elise awoke the following morning, the lingering warmth of Marcus's body from her dream state so real that she jolted awake upon reaching out and touching only cool sheets beside her. Sadness settled over her. There would be no mornings where they awoke together, no mornings where Marcus pulled her close and kissed her body before slipping inside her.

Tears stung her eyes. This time when she left, there would be no clues, no one to confess that she had gone with Peter McFie. She didn't blame Winnie. When confronted by her master, Winnie had told the truth. Elise expected nothing less. She had gambled and lost. She wouldn't lose a second time. Now, if she could only locate the secret passageway leading from the castle to the outside.

The mantel clock chimed softly. She looked at the clock. Nearly seven. Elise bolted upright. Marcus had likely already gone to the fields. She swung her legs over the side of the bed then paused before rising. He would be preoccupied with final preparations for the celebration starting that night. If she chose the moment with care, he might not overanalyze her request to go to Michael's.

A pang of guilt surfaced. Was the need to check for the notice in the Sunday Times worth manipulating him one last time? The question went beyond morality. When she reached Glasgow, if no ship left immediately for America, she might have to go to another port. London was the best choice. But if the notice was still in the paper could she risk it?

When Elise stepped from the postern door ten minutes later, she spotted Marcus at the front gate. He stood among a group of men, his horse's reins in hand. She hurried across the courtyard toward him. He turned as she neared. A smile spread across his face. When she came within arm's length, he surprised her by dropping the reins and sweeping her into his embrace, then twirling her about.

"Marcus," she breathed, "put me down."

He twirled again. The ground spun around her and she squealed, burying her face in his neck. Her cheek instantly warmed with the contact of his skin. Her breath quickened. Good Lord, she'd forgotten about his open shirt! He stopped and she looked up into his grinning face.

"What brings you here this fine morning?" he asked, still holding her off the ground.

"Put me down," she said. His grin widened, and Elise felt her cheeks flush even warmer. "People are watching."

"Lass," he said, imitating her secretive whisper, "we have no secrets."

Elise glanced at the men who spoke amongst themselves as though she and Marcus weren't there.

"Have you come to wish me a good day?" he asked.

She looked back at him. "Of course."

"Then ye mean to leave me with one of your sweet kisses." He lowered her to the ground.

Her heart sped up.

Marcus's eyes darkened.

There was something warm and enchanting in his humor and, against her better sense, Elise wound an arm around his neck and pulled him to her. Their lips met. Marcus gave a gentle but firm thrust of his tongue against her mouth. She jerked, sure every man present knew of the intimacy, but Marcus held her another moment before breaking the embrace.

He nuzzled her neck. "You make me feel as though I err going into the fields today."

Elise pulled back and gazed up at him.

He smiled. "Surely my time would be better spent with ye in your bedchamber?"

She drew a sharp breath.