School For Heiresses 3- Beware A Scot's Revenge (12 page)

Flinching as if she’d slapped him, he stared at her with haunted eyes. “That’s not why.” The words sounded torn from him. Then his expression softened until he looked less theHighland warrior and more the rangy lad she’d once adored.

“That’s not why,” he repeated, his voice a husky rumble that made her breath catch in her throat. “And you know it.”

Then he lowered his head to hers.

She’d sworn not to let him kiss her again, and a few minutes ago, she would have resisted. But a few minutes ago, he’d been cruel to her. Now…

Now he was different. His cruelty had been born of a heartfelt concern for her, a concern now turning into something more. She could see it in his warm gaze, melting to a coppery brown. She could hear it in his indrawn breath when he paused with his lips a mere inch from hers, allowing her a chance to stop him. She didn’t.

So he didn’t.

Lord save her.

Chapter Nine

Dear Cousin,

What do you know of fortune hunters? Your every need is met—you’ve never had to face your
spouse’s creditors, wondering if they will take everything you own. You’ve never been at the
mercy of a fickle man.

Your testy relation,

Charlotte

L
achlan didn’t know what madness possessed him. He just needed to reassureVenetia —and himself—that he wasn’t the monster he’d probably seemed a moment ago, a man who would force a woman to endure his lascivious touch. That’s why he’d given her the chance to refuse the kiss. But only a chance. Because the minute he’d been close enough to smell the lavender in her hair and see the warming of her eyes, he’d had to kiss her. He couldn’t help himself. And she was letting him. Thank God, or he didn’t know what he might do. He was half drunk from lack of sleep, with his heart still pumping from the terror of seeing her at the mercy of a wildcat, and it took all his strength just to keep his kiss light. Especially when she melted, her lips parting beneath his own. After that, there was no keeping it light. He just had to bury his tongue between those rosy lips. Never mind that his leg ached something fierce and his ribs throbbed from where she’d pounded him. Never mind that she could do the same to him again for plundering her lush mouth.
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He didn’t care; he would take the chance. He kissed her heartily, needfully, wanting everything the bold wildcat of a lass would give him. And she gave him plenty. God help him, she lay in the bracken and kissed him back, drawing his tongue into her mouth, stroking it with hers. Ever since they’d leftEdinburgh , he’d watched her scrap and barter, unwilling to let him win. He’d bullied her at every turn, yet she’d held her own. It intoxicated him, her stubborn ferocity. To have her yielding even a tiny part of herself to him was more tempting than he could resist. Then her hand crept up to cling to his neck, and his mind blanked to nothing but the taste of her, the sweet silk of her tongue mating with his. Need drove him now, hot and urgent, prodding him to put his hands on her, to explore and caress, to take the edge off his hunger before he lost his mind. In a fever, he unfastened more ties of her gown and unclasped the belt about her waist, so he could slide his hand inside to stroke her corseted belly. Even that was not enough, for his hand began to roam, up and down, in long, caressing sweeps. But when his fingers brushed the very edge of the swell of one breast, she tore her lips from his to whisper, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I don’t know.” He skimmed her throat with his open mouth, reveling in the pounding of her pulse beneath his lips. “Something I shouldn’t, most likely.”

“If anyone were to see—”

“I told you, no one is around for miles.” He couldn’t help noticing that she was more worried about not being seen than about what he was doing. “And I ordered Jamie to stay with the horses.”

“Still, this is very wicked.” But she stated it like a fact, not a warning.

“Aye, very wicked.” With his blood thumping high, he pushed her gown open to bare her corset from breast to thigh. “I’m a wicked sort of man. And I suspect you’re more wicked than you’ll admit.”

Deliberately, he loosened the gathers that held up the soft cups of her corset. She swallowed, her gaze dropping to watch him. “Why do you say that?”

“Because of how you were at the ball,” he said, careful of his words. He didn’t want to spook her. “You went off into the dark with me and took a risk out of sheer curiosity.” He bent to kiss her cheek, then tug her earlobe with his teeth. “Admit it, lassie—beneath yer proprieties is a passionate woman aching to thumb her nose at the English rules binding her up so tight she can’t breathe.”

“Th-that’s not true.” She gasped when he thrust the tip of his tongue into her ear, then nibbled the lobe.

“I…like the rules…I do.”

“Is that why you let me kiss you that night, a pure stranger?” He tugged loose the tie of her chemise. “Is that why you sing so many songs about devilish lords and highwaymen, breakers of rules every one of them?”

She jerked back to stare at him, her hand still gripping his neck. “I sang those ballads to show you the error of your ways.”

“Did you now? And why did you bother to learn them in the first place? To prepare for when you met up with a highwayman? No, lass, you learned them because they appealed to your wicked bent.” He
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smiled at her. “You sang them because you’ve got more of yer rebel Jacobite grandfather in you than ye ken.”

Hooking his fingers behind one soft cup of her stays, he drew it down to expose her chemise, then drew down the other.

But when he reached for the chemise, she caught his hand. “I’m not wicked enough for
that,
Lachlan .”

Her other arm was trapped at her side; otherwise she probably would’ve done more than halt his hand. But he didn’t let her modesty daunt him. Not now that he had a sight of her thinly covered breasts, rising on either side of her corset busk. Holy Christ, they were plump as pillows, their rosy nipples perking up beneath his gaze through the linen of her chemise.

“A wee bit of wickedness never hurt a body,” he said hoarsely as he bent his head to kiss the swell of one breast above the loosened chemise.

Her breath came as quickly as his. “You talk like every seducer I’ve been warned against.”

“Aye, and you like seducers, too, don’t you? God knows you sing enough songs about
them.
”

“That doesn’t mean…I don’t…”

“Your body likes them, anyway.” He pressed his luck by thumbing her nipple through the linen. “That’s why this little currant is puckering up for me.”

She sucked in a ragged breath, and he kissed her, long and deep, a seducer’s kiss, until he felt her hand slide up his coat sleeve to his shoulder.

Only then did he pull down her loosened chemise, allowing one of her lush breasts to spill entirely free. He covered it with his hand, exulting in the abundance of it, the way it quivered beneath his caress. Her hand gripped his shoulder as he fondled and stroked, his kiss growing more frantic until he couldn’t think of anything but how badly he wanted her, how heavy his prick lay in his trews, aching for her. He finally had her beneath him the way he’d been longing to have her, and for once she wasn’t acting like her father’s daughter. For once it was just the two of them and she wasn’t fighting him. The bonnie lass was lucky he wasn’t throwing up her skirts and taking her right here and now. But he wasn’t fool enough for that. A little touching, a little kissing would be enough to hold him until they reached Ross-shire and he could lock her away to await her father. Or so he tried to convince himself.

He slipped his thigh between her legs, trying to get closer, needing to be closer. With a moan, she wrenched her mouth from his. “Oh,Lachlan , you’ll be the ruin of me.”

“I won’t, I swear,” he said, fearing it was a lie and hoping it wasn’t.

“You will. Because…because I…”

“Enjoy this?” he rasped. “You like having my hands on you, do you?”

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“Lord, yes.”

That was all the invitation he needed to suck her breast, teasing the tip with his teeth, drowning in the female flesh that lay so richly soft beneath him. His other hand dragged down the other side of her chemise, so he could enjoy that breast with his fingers as he laved the first with his tongue.

“Lachlan…” she gasped. “You are…this is…”

Venetiaknew she sounded like a babbling fool, but that was how he was making her feel, with his mouth ravishing her and his fingers taking wild, reckless liberties. She shouldn’t be allowing it! Why was she allowing it?

“You can’t know what you do to me, lass,” he whispered against her breast. “You can’t know.”

“I know what you…do to
me
…” she rasped as he tugged on her nipple with his teeth, sending sensation screaming along every nerve.

That
was why she was allowing this. Because it felt like nothing she’d ever known. And because for once, he wasn’t growling at her or cursing her father or turning surly. For once, he was theLachlan she’d adored as a girl.

So when his thigh rubbed between her legs, startling other sensations to life down below, she didn’t even hesitate to arch up against him. The pressure felt so good, so delicious…

And curse him if that didn’t prod him to take more liberties. Trailing his hand down to the juncture between her thighs, he began rubbing her through her chemise while his mouth continued to suck eagerly at her breasts, one after the other.

Dear Lord, that was astonishing. No wonder girls in ballads were always losing their virtue to rogues. Losing one’s virtue had a decided appeal. His tongue was doing the most amazing things to her nipples, while his fingers did a sliding motion down below that made her squirm and arch for more. How could she have guessed seduction would feel so magical?

And how could he know so well what would excite her? She’d rubbed herself down there a time or two, seduced by the melting pleasure of it, but it felt nothing like this heady…delicious…

Dangerous…unwise—“Curse you,Lachlan , why are you doing this?”
Why are you making me feel
these things?

He lifted his head from her breast to rake her with a smoldering gaze that set flame to her skin. “I wanted you from the second I saw you.” He nuzzled her breast, his whiskered chin wonderfully rough against the soft flesh. “You walked into that ball like a queen dressed as a peasant, and I wanted you.”

That seemed a lifetime ago. She’d been so happy to be among other Scots, dancing strathspeys and watching the tartan worn so proudly.

While he plotted her kidnapping.

The thought banished her passion. That’s why he’d kissed her then. And probably why he was touching
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her now. Dear Lord, she was letting him do exactly the things she’d sworn she would never let him do. Her heart lurching in her breast, she reached down to draw his hand from between her legs. “You didn’t want
me,
” she accused. She was such a fool. “You wanted Duncannon’s daughter.”

The sudden uneasy glint in his eyes told her she’d guessed right. “I wanted both. I still do.”

She choked down the tears welling in her throat. That was the trouble. He wanted to have his way with her…but only so he could strike back at her father.

Then he shifted his thigh between her legs, and she felt the thick bulge in his trousers pressing into her like an iron brand.

Well, perhaps not only to strike back at Papa. Thanks to the harem tales she and the other girls had read at school, she knew what that bulge between his thighs signified. He
did
desire her. Or rather, he desired a woman. She only happened to be convenient.

She fought to ignore the pain that lanced through her chest. He was using her own wishful fancies to get her where he wanted her. Beneath him, allowing him to take shameful liberties with her. Very well, perhaps it was time she used
his
desire to
her
advantage. Forcing a smile, she tugged his hand back to where it had been. “So you want me, do you?”

He caught his breath. “Aye. You know that I do.”

“You want me. I want to go home.” She swallowed. “Perhaps I could earn my release by letting you…do things to me.” Like let him see her naked or let him touch and kiss her. When a storm built in his features, she added hastily, “Not ruin me, you understand. Just do…things.”

For a moment, he just stared at her, as if unable to believe what he was hearing. Then to her surprise, he cursed and snatched his hand free to plant it on the ground beside her shoulder. Fire now glinted in his deep brown eyes as he brought his face down to hers. “So that’s what this has been about.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“Your soft sighs and kisses, your letting me caress and taste you,” he gritted out as he hovered over her.

“God, what an ass I am!”

Something had gone wrong in her plan, but what? “You’re angry.”

“Bloody right I’m angry! I thought that you—” He broke off with a foul curse, then shoved to his feet.

“Never mind what I thought. I must have been daft. If I’d been using my brain, I would have realized you were just trying out a different ploy for escaping me.” Fury lit his face as he paced the bracken beside her. “Because ladies like yerself don’t roll in the bracken with thieving Scots like me unless they want something for it, do they?”

If he wouldn’t let her bargain for her release by offering him liberties, then it was better he think she had no desire for him at all. Because if he guessed how susceptible she was…

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That must never happen. He would seduce her so he could turn her into a weapon against Papa, and she’d have nothing left, not even her pride.

“As you say,Lachlan , I am a lady.” Quickly, she stood up, too, then began putting her clothing in order.