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The warmth of his hand settled the worst of her jumpiness. His touch had always held such power over her.

“And mine.” He leaned in to touch gentle lips to hers. The sweetness turned her blood to syrup and made foolish tears prickle at her eyes.

She lifted a shaking hand to stroke his face. How she loved the way the stark bones fitted together to form his striking features. How she loved the way his eyes glowed down at her, as if she were the most glorious creation on earth.

Fergus kissed her again with more heat, his tongue slipping between her lips to lure her into a sensuous game. She sighed with pleasure and joined the play, flicking her tongue against his and pulling away to nip at his lips.

He rolled over her, pressing her into the thick mattress. He nuzzled her neck, until she felt likely to melt. An insistent throb set up at the base of her belly, and she tightened her thighs around his narrow hips. Avid to touch him, she shoved aside the loose shirt. Insatiable fingers discovered his shoulders and chest; warm, smooth skin and a scattering of silky hair.

“I’ve imagined having you in my arms like this since I first saw you,” he groaned against her shoulder. “Yet now you’re here, and reality is so much better.”

“I wanted you, too,” she responded just as unstead

ily. “All the time.”

“We have so much to discover.” He sat up to tug his shirt over his head and toss it aside.

At this first sight of his naked chest, her eyes rounded, and her heart turned over in a somersault. She’d hoped the butterflies in her stomach had settled, but watching a man undress for the first time reminded her of her innocence.

She gulped for air which suddenly seemed in short supply. “Per l’amor di dio, Michelangelo would weep if he could see you.”

Her foolish heart turned over again, when she saw that her praise left him at a loss. The Mackinnon looked almost bashful, something she’d never have imagined possible. How delightful.

Cavolo, she’d better be careful. She expected to find passion in his arms, but this encounter tugged at her wayward emotions as powerfully as it stoked carnal hunger.

“Go on with you, Marina,” he said gruffly.

“Si, I will go on,” she whispered, her confidence reviving as she sat up.

Nervous or not, she couldn’t resist touching him. With a shaking hand, Marina traced a path from one broad shoulder, across to the dark red hair curling over his chest, and down across his flat stomach. Beneath her hesitant exploration, his muscles twitched and tightened. By the time she reached the barrier of the wide black leather belt, his stomach had turned as hard as rock.

How gratifying that her touch had power over him, too. With greater assurance, she retraced the path, brushing his light brown nipple on the way. He caught his breath on a hiss.

Interesting. He must like that. How fascinating his body was. How fascinating to discover ways to give him pleasure in return for the pleasure he gave her.

He caught her seeking hand and brought it to his lips. “Let me undress you, lassie.”

Marina summoned her courage. It wasn’t as difficult as it would have been five minutes ago. “Yes, please.”

She liked that he didn’t fumble or rush as he released the buttons on her dark green jacket. With more of that mesmerizing care, he parted the lapels to reveal her fine lawn shirt beneath. When his eyes flared at the sight of her body under the sheer white fabric, her breasts swelled against her corset. Her very flesh longed for him.

“More buttons,” he murmured.

She bit back a laugh, as the butterflies inside her fluttered down to rest. She even found the audacity to tease him. “You like a challenge.”

“It seems I do, at that.” With breathtaking efficiency, he undid the mother-of-pearl buttons down the front of her plain shirt. Her nipples tightened as his hands brushed them through the thin fabric.

Showing the same care, he spread the edges of the shirt to reveal her corset. His groan of frustration made her laugh. “Don’t give up yet, Mackinnon. It’s only a few hooks up the front.”

“Easy for ye to say ‘only.’”

With a patience that made her tremble, Fergus undid her corset. Her pale cream shift beneath was so transparent that it revealed the dark pink peaks of her nipples. When his heavy-lidded eyes leveled on the blatant display, he licked his lips as if he tasted something delicious.

“Italian lassies wear too many clothes.”

His fingers busied themselves untying the blue silk ribbon that closed the top of her shift. More tantalizing glances of his hands across her skin.

The chemise fell open, and her breasts tumbled free into his palms. As he cupped her flesh, a flash of exquisite heat made her cry out. He squeezed again, and another shiver rippled through her.


Tags: Anna Campbell The Lairds Most Likely Historical