My Brave Highlander (45 page)

"'Tis my great pleasure to meet you, Lady Jessie." Torrin held out his hand, waiting for Jessie to place her hand in his. When she did, he bowed in a courtly manner and kissed the backs of her fingers.

Though she didn't smile, Jessie flushed pink, as she curtseyed. "'Tis an honor to meet you, m'laird." She quickly pulled away and clasped her hands in front of her.

"Dirk's sister, hmm?" Torrin said. "I would've never imagined he would have such a lovely sister."

Isobel bit her lip to keep from snickering, while Jessie merely blushed ever brighter.

"I thank you, m'laird."

Isobel switched her gaze back and forth between them, trying to figure out what was going on. Clearly Torrin found Jessie incredibly attractive with her coppery hair and sky-blue eyes. He was paying her far more attention than he'd ever paid Isobel when they'd been betrothed. But Jessie appeared extremely tense.

"Pray pardon," Jessie said with another curtsy. "I must see if Cook has the tarts baked yet."

With a frown, Torrin watched her flee the room, then looked to Isobel.

She shrugged.

"Don't be thinking you'll steal Isobel back from me," Dirk said, placing his arm protectively around her shoulders.

Isobel flushed all over as she glanced up at Dirk and relished the way his big warm hand caressed her shoulder. A slight smile quirked his lips.

"Och, nay," Torrin said. "I wish the two of you happy." He shook Dirk's hand and ambled away.

"Hmph. He took it well that I stole his bride," Dirk said.

Isobel gave him a tight smile for she was still annoyed and confused about why he hadn't told her about their marriage arrangements. Being the bride and one of the last to know was humiliating.

"Could I have a word?" Dirk murmured, his breath warming and tickling her ear.

"Aye." So now he was going to tell her, after everyone knew?

She followed Dirk's gesture to precede him toward the corridor leading to the library. It must have been his favorite room.

Once they were inside, he closed the door.

"Are you cross with me again?" Dirk asked. "I couldn't help but notice those glares you threw my way after Cyrus made the announcement."

"You could've told me, at least," she said.

"What?"

Could he truly be so daft? She blew out an exasperated breath. "'Tis humiliating to learn, along with the rest of your clan, about our upcoming nuptials. Neither you nor my brother would take a minute to tell me what you were arranging."

Dirk frowned. "I'm sorry. I thought you'd be pleased."

"About what? That no one bothered to ask me who I wanted to marry?"

He gave her a long, dark look. "I'm not senseless, Isobel, and neither is Cyrus. We both ken you want to marry me instead of Torrin."

She bit her lip, refusing to look at him. So he was right. That wasn't the point. She supposed she should be grateful her brother wasn't marrying her off to a wizened old coot this time.

Dirk drew her close. "Isobel?" He tipped her chin up. "Look at me."

Trying to maintain her ire despite how good he felt, she stared at his stubbly chin, but then his sensual lips distracted her. She wanted them on her.

"Your brother was going to call you in here and find out your opinion on the matter," Dirk said. "But we had to go out and deal with the MacLeods."

She shrugged. "He has no concern about my opinion. Nor do you."

"'Tis not true. But you're right about one thing. Where marriage is concerned, I neglected to ask the most important person." He lowered himself to one knee. "Lady Isobel, will you do me the honor of becoming my bride?"

As she stared down into his intent and hopeful bright blue gaze, tears rushed to her eyes. "Are you certain you don't feel forced into it?" she asked, though her throat constricted.

"Are you mad?" He rose and stroked his thumb across her cheek, wiping her tears away. "I can think of little else."

"In that case… Aye, I would love to," she whispered. "I can think of little else either."

Switching his attention to her hand, he kissed her knuckles and slid a ring onto her finger.

She sucked in a sharp breath, staring down in shock at the dark blue stone of the sapphire ring. Happiness spun through her, bringing more tears to her eyes. "Oh, Dirk. Where did you get this?"

"'Twas my mother's." He smiled, wiggling the ring on her finger. "'Tis a bit big, but we'll have it modified to fit."

"'Tis lovely. I thank you."

"You're welcome." He kissed her forehead.

Though she loved the affectionate gesture, she hungered for a different sort of kiss from him to seal the betrothal.

"Do you forgive me?" he asked.

"Aye. If you promise not to keep me in the dark again."

He hesitated as if thinking that over. "I promise. If 'tis something that involves you, I'll be sure to tell you first."

She didn't like that pause before his answer. "Are you certain?"

"Of course. Do you not trust me?"

"I do. But you must remember not to treat me like a piece of furniture or a sheep the way my brother does."

Dirk chuckled.

"You think that's funny? How would you like it if women decided your future?"

"Pray pardon. I only found it funny because I could never in a thousand years treat you like furniture or a sheep." He snorted as if that was ridiculous. "Nay, you are… the most important person to me." His look grew sincere and almost passionate.

Warmth spread through her chest because she thought he was trying to tell her he cared about her. Maybe he was even trying to tell her he loved her, but she couldn't be sure. She wouldn't make him feel trapped into anything, not even in expressing his feelings.

"And you are the most important person to me," she said.

He continued watching her, his azure eyes communicating longing, need, desire, happiness and a dozen other things.

Stubborn man, why did he not kiss her?

Impatience winning out, she whispered, "May I kiss you?"

"Isobel," he groaned softly and clenched his teeth. "You ken what happens when we kiss."

"Aye, indeed." A bonfire of need and desire, and that was exactly what she craved at the moment. "I missed you during the past few days. I almost never saw you. I think you were avoiding me."

"I was trying to keep myself under control, and you ken I'll not want to stop with a kiss," he confessed.

"Nor will I."

He frowned, looking even more aroused and frustrated. "We must. There's a hall full of guests out there, part of them your family and clan."

She shrugged. "Cyrus approved our betrothal. What can he say? If he finds out we've shared a bed, he'll merely demand that we marry quicker. Besides, we can bar the door and no one will walk in."

Dirk stepped forward, leaned in and brushed his mouth across hers, sending delicious sensual shivers over her whole body. "Damnation. You crush my willpower," he whispered, then captured her lips in one of those devastating kisses he was so skilled with. His hands encircled her waist, drawing her closer. She slid her arms around his neck and held on. He kissed her thoroughly and deep, his mouth as intoxicating as the spiced, sweet wine he tasted of. After a moment of the carnal indulgence, he pulled back and released her as if trying to rein himself under control.

Finding the bar standing against the doorframe, she lifted it and slid it down into the brackets. No one could enter now.

"What are you doing?" Dirk asked.

"I think you ken." She sent him a mischievous smile. "Ravishing you."

Chapter Twenty-Five

"Ravishing me?" One side of Dirk's lips quirked up. "In the library? You
are
mad."

"Indeed." Isobel crept forward, enjoying the surprised and amused expression on Dirk's handsome face.

"We cannot," he protested, his eyes still dark blue and heavy-lidded from that scorching kiss.

"I think we can. No one is stopping us, and no one will know of it."

"Listen." He turned his head to stare at the door.

The loud music of the
céilidh
had started in the great hall and someone was singing a lively tune. Feet were stomping and hands were clapping.

She grinned. "'Twill cover any noise we make."

He blew out a harsh breath and sent her an accusatory look. "I thought I was strong, but I cannot resist you."

"There is no need to now that we are betrothed."

She unclasped the brooch at his shoulder that had been holding his plaid sash in place, then unfastened his doublet. After she deposited them on the table, he yanked the shirt over his head and flung it toward the heap of clothing. She feasted her eyes on the luscious bulging muscles of his torso and his rippled abdomen all the way down to his soft doeskin trews that left little to the imagination. His erection was clearly outlined beneath.

How delectable he looked.

Moving forward, she boldly took hold of the leather string and tugged, untying, then unlacing his trews to reveal the narrow line of hair on his lower abdomen that led downward to fascinating male parts.

"Isobel," he said in a warning tone.

"Aye?" Giving him a playful little grin, she trailed her fingers inside and along his hot, hard shaft.

He groaned and grasped her wrist to draw her hand away. "Wicked lass," he said in a teasing hiss and dragged her to him for a kiss. In one hand, he secured both her wrists behind her back.

"Mmm."
Heavens!
What was he doing? He had never restrained her like this before, but somehow she found it excited her more. As if he was taking control of her, possessing her.

Keeping her mouth occupied with a scrumptious, erotic kiss, he unclasped the brooch at her chest and then her belt, allowing her
arisaid
to drop at her feet. After moving aside her other clothing, he untied the string holding her smock in place and dragged it down to expose her breasts.

She gasped at the excitement that raced through her. The cool air in the room teased her skin. Bending her backwards he drew her peaked nipple into his hot mouth. The tonguing and sucking he unleashed on her was so arousing, she couldn't think.

"Oh, Dirk. Aye."

After he'd suckled her other breast and teased it for a few moments, he released her, moved to a chair by the hearth and dropped into it. "Come now, lass. Don't make me wait."

What game was he playing? Grabbing onto a chair at the table, she could scarce stand or find the words to form a coherent sentence while her mind returned to her.

She eyed him and his playful smirk. "Oh, I see. Now that we are betrothed, you think to order me about, do you?" She sashayed toward him.

"Aye."

She loved his faint playful grin.

"Sit on my lap," he said.

She perched sideways on his rock-hard thighs, leaned in and placed an innocent peck on his lips. Threading his fingers into her hair, he drew her closer still and, with his tongue flicking roguishly against hers, turned the kiss into a sinful, steamy delight. She could hardly think after a few seconds. She simply wanted to eat him up.

"Get up for a moment," he murmured against her lips, his hands on her waist. She did, then he slid her petticoats up to her knees and dragged her forward into a different position, straddling his lap. What a wanton and scandalous position. A shockingly enticing position. She scooted closer, feeling his hardened shaft through their clothing.

He dug beneath her smock and petticoats, then slid his hot, calloused hands over her knees and up the outside of her thighs all while his mouth ate at hers.

He moaned. "You are temptation itself."

She tugged again at the leather ties on his trews, loosening them. Gathering her courage and hoping he wouldn't stop her this time, she slipped her hand inside. When she touched his heated, hard flesh, his breath hissed between his teeth.

Wrapping her fingers around his shaft, she squeezed. How silky yet hard as stone he felt.

He groaned. "Are you trying to make me lose control?"

"Aye."

"Not before you do." His fingers stole between her legs and he gently parted her sex lips. Sliding one finger between, he found her moisture and spread it, circling some incredibly sensitive and excited part of her.

"Oh, Dirk," she gasped. He knew the exact magical spot to caress and drive her mad with lust.

"Damn, you feel good," he growled.

She arched her back, trying to push herself closer to him. With his other arm around her low back he drew her closer and stroked her delicate flesh with his wet fingers.
Oh heavens
, he made her yearn. She wiggled her hips, while squeezing and tugging at his rigid shaft, trying to show him what she wanted.

"Saints, lass!" he muttered behind clenched teeth, then surprised her by lifting her and laying her back onto the hard, wooden floor.