Taken by Angeline Fortin (great books of all time TXT) 📗

with a single glance.  It would be far better for her peace of mind, in fact, if her feelings for Laird were as platonic as those she had for Rhys.

The dim hallway felt as though it were shrinking around them.  Scarlett was dangerously aware of his every breath, the rise and fall of his chest beneath his linen shirt.  Her breath slowed to match his, the very air compressing against her breasts as she inhaled.

“Laird.”  Whatever she might have been planning to say was swept away as his lips covered hers.  Lightly, like a soft caress then deepening as he drew her into his strong arms.  Crushed against that captivating chest, he lifted her, propelling her into her chamber and nudging the door shut before falling with her on the bed.

No man had ever kissed her like this.  Other men waited for her permission, or worse, her initiation of a kiss.  Laird took what he desired, devoured polite objections. Forced her body into an honest, if shocking, response.  She felt wild.  Wanton.

Panicked by the loss of control, Scarlett tore her lips from his, panting, “Laird, we can’t do this.”

Laird tugged her gown off her shoulder.  First pressing a kiss there, then nipping at her collarbone.  His lips dragged upward, his beard scraping until his tongue curled around her earlobe.  He drew it between his lips, biting gently and Scarlett swallowed hard. “It’s ridiculous, really.”  Scarlett gasped as his rough palms enclosed her tender breasts and he bent his head to take her sensitive nipple between his teeth.  A tortured moan formed at the back of her throat.  “You’re not my type at all.”

“Yer type?” he asked against her breast.

“The kind of guy I normally find attractive,” she explained haltingly, panting for breath as his tongue lapped over her nipple.  “Overly handsome, domineering.”  Domineering?  Oh, would he be?  Scarlett felt a little thrill at the thought.  No, that really wasn’t her type at all!  “You’re too big.”

Laird’s hands slid to her hips pulling her roughly closer as he thrust his hips forward, clearly illustrating his immense length.  “Too big?”

“Big, as in overpowering,” she explained and a smile lifted the corner of his mouth.  But that demonstration had sent her blood pressure soaring.

“Och, lass, I’m every woman’s type.”

Of course he was.  He was tall, dark and ridiculously handsome.  Even a saint would want him for his sensual brogue alone.  Scarlett released a pained laugh.  “Ego.”

“Experience,” he whispered and kissed her again.  His tongue plunged deep, sweeping along hers seductively.  He tasted of heady whiskey and almost undeniable temptation.  Powerful hands roamed over her body, gliding from her waist to her shoulders and back down again before he clasped her bottom in his palms and lifted her against him.

His hips rocked and Scarlett helplessly arched against him.  Her heart pounded hard against her ribs.  Desire pulsed through her veins.  Desire unlike anything she’d ever felt before.  Laird hiked up her skirt, one broad finger slid between her damp folds.  Her thighs quaked, tensed.  Clinging to his shoulders, Scarlett prayed for mercy.

“Yer wet for me already, lass.  Open and let me in.”

“Oh, God,” she cried, warring with herself.  Battling against the naked passion Laird roused it her.  It was so incredible.  Could it possibly be wrong?  “O-kay.”

Laird stilled against her.

“Ye hesitated,” he said, using her words from that morning.

Only the sound of their heavy breaths broke the silence.

“I did.  Oh, God, what am I doing?”  This wasn’t her.  She just didn’t do this!  Not like this.  For all of Hollywood’s foibles, she wasn’t easy.  She didn’t sleep around like many actresses might.  She was, in fact, highly conscious of what people saw and assumed after having a lifetime of her parent’s not-so-fine examples to follow.  And because of her visibility, she had been very careful about who she had been with if only because she hadn’t wanted her relationships blasted about for everyone to hear.  She could count on one hand the number of times she had slept with a man.

Hell, she could count on two fingers!  And neither one had been terribly memorable.  Neither one had left her shaking like this.

The problem was, she wasn’t entirely opposed to giving it a try.  His hold slackened and he pulled away, cooling air found its way between them.  Scarlett grasped his wrists before he slid entirely away.  “Laird, I want to.  I do.  It’s just…”

“Yer a virgin.”

“No.”  Scarlett scrambled to her feet as he lifted himself away.  His chest was damp and heaving when she lifted a hand to his heart.  Felt his surprise. “No, it’s not that.  I just not ready for this.  Please understand, I’m not that girl who sleeps around.  I don’t do this on first dates or… or like this, without even one date.”

“Dates?  What does fruit hae to do wi’ it?”

“Ugh!  I’m sorry.  I know I’m sending all kinds of mixed signals here.”

“Mixed signals?  Lass, I dinnae understand.”

“I know you don’t.  I’m just so… I don’t know what to say.  Laird, you’re taking me down a road I’m not sure I want to travel.”  She glanced down at the still raging erection lifting his kilt.  Oh! She wanted nothing more than to turn back time just five minutes this time and tell her capricious conscience to take a hike.  She wanted him badly.  Why not?

Because she was his prisoner, remember?

Bull shit!  The devil on her shoulder taunted her.  Take the road.  Do it because you want to.  Do it because you can finally feel free.

With a sigh, Scarlett closed her eyes.

“Laird, I’m…”

“I dinnae need yer apologies, lass.  I ken the situation well enough.”

“Laird…”

“Mind what I said aboot Rhys. I ken ye think he’s the bluidy nice one, but mark my words.  Beware.  Else ye find yerself thoroughly seduced.”

The door closed behind him before she could say another word.

Scarlett pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes.  She was already finding herself thoroughly seduced.

17

 

“Well, if it isn’t the bloody nice one,” Scarlett said when she answered the