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Fergus paused. “Or are you really worried about whether I regard you as my equal?”

She closed the sketchbook on the half-finished portrait. “We’ve hardly disagreed at all since…”

“Since ye came to my bed. Scared you’re getting soft, Marina?”

“That’s one thing you don’t have to worry about,” she retorted.

His grunt was wry. “Aye. In fact…”

She shot him a startled look. “We’re miles from the lodge.”

He ran his hand through his red hair, ruffling it so a lock tumbled down over his broad forehead. Santa pazienza, he was so effortlessly attractive. No wonder she was besotted. “We dinna have to have a bed handy.”

“I know. There was the armchair and the wall and…”

Amusement creased his eyes. “Aye. You don’t have to list every one of them. And all grand places for a wee bit of pleasure.”

Her lips twitched. “I don’t remember anything being wee, including the pleasure.”

“Glad to hear it,” he said, and tilted his chin toward the space over her left shoulder. “There’s a dip in the brae behind you that’s covered in nice, soft grass. Unless ye fancy the trip to the lodge. I’m ready for you now, so it’s a long way to go when relief is here at hand.”

Her cheeks flushed, partly because she’d more than once imagined lying in his arms, with just the sky as their roof. “How are you so sure that the grass is soft, Mackinnon?”

He raised his eyebrows, and sly pleasure glinted in his eyes. “No need to be jealous, my bonny. You’re the only woman I’ve had my wicked way with in this glen. I caught a wee nap or two there, back in the days when you wouldn’t give me a second glance.”

How she wished she could stay the only woman he had his wicked way with in the glen. Or anywhere else.

Diavolo, she was turning stupid over him, but she couldn’t help herself.

“What if someone sees us?”

“It’s a very private spot. Anyone who found us would have to be looking.” He extended a hand. “Are ye no’ tempted?”

Marina gave a delicate snort. “You know I’m tempted, curse you.”

One of his rare, untrammeled smiles lit his face, and the restlessness she’d felt since he’d kissed her sharpened into desire. They had so little time left. She needed to seize every second of rapture she could.

Because tragically soon, she’d be alone again. There would be no more sensual pleasure, and no more sweet, shared laughter, and no more basking in the knowledge that she’d found the other half of her soul.

She set aside her sketchbook and accepted Fergus’s hand, glorying in the firm strength of his grip. “Show me.”

Chapter Twenty

Fergus had once prided himself on his control as a lover. No more. He rushed Marina into the hollow and, once they were out of sight of the open hillside, dragged her into his arms for a ravenous kiss, wrapping his arms around her as if he’d never let her go.

They’d been lovers for a little over a month, and with every day, his need for her grew more powerful. As had his impatience with the restrictions this affair imposed.

At first, having to conceal their passion had been an annoying necessity, even while subterfuge added a tinge of forbidden excitement. Now he chafed against touching Marina only when they were alone. He wanted her with him all the time, not just when there were no curious eyes to take note of their attraction.

He was surprised that she consented to this tryst. But she’d agreed with a readiness that set his blood aflame. Marina’s was a wild, free spirit. At first, that had taken him aback, but he’d come to appreciate the way her courage mirrored his.

Now she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body so close that not even a breath separated them. Her lips burned against his, and her tongue darted into his mouth with a greed that made him mad for her.

Shaking with uncontrollable need, he fell to his knees before her and shoved up her skirts in a froth of petticoats. He buried his face in her belly, senses brimming with the rich scent of her arousal. She’d flared into need as swiftly as he had.

Over their time together, he’d spent hours exploring her silky cleft with his mouth. Today, he was too close to the edge to last through a slow seduction.

He fiddled with the tie on her drawers, until they fell to her booted ankles. He placed a kiss above the triangle of dark curls covering her mound. A silent promise that on the next occasion, he’d take his time.


Tags: Anna Campbell The Lairds Most Likely Historical