Seduced by a Rogue (28 page)

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Authors: Amanda Scott

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BOOK: Seduced by a Rogue
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She was sorry it had.

Rob, too, was aware that something had been missing in their ride. But he was not sorry he had taken Gib along. He had hoped
that if he saw less of Mairi each day, the feelings that had nearly undone him after her adventure in the cavern would ease
if not disappear altogether. Instead they had intensified.

No matter what he expected from her, no matter what he said to her, she had continually surprised him. Looking back, he marveled
that she had never shown fear of him—wariness, but never fear. Moreover, she still seemed willing, despite that stolen kiss,
to trust him not to harm her.

He knew that her trust had affected him deeply then, that without it, he might have pressed for more than a kiss, even in
the face of her softly murmured protest.

He did not think of himself as an aggressive lover, nor had he ever taken an unwilling partner or one lacking experience.
But experience told him that women often said no when they meant yes—especially when they protested softly.

Thinking about that, he admitted that some of his previous partners might have felt obliged to please him. But most Scotswomen,
especially Borderers, were outspoken enough to express their true feelings. He knew, too, that lairds who took unfair advantage
of their people were likely to lose their respect.

Mairi did not feel obliged to please him. Nor, despite telling him she had generally sought peace at home, did she seek peace
with him by keeping silent. She listened and did not judge him even when he made her angry. She could be sharp-tongued, even
caustic at times. But she never assumed the worst of him. She would say what she thought—bluntly perhaps, but without carping
or grousing.

He kept busy in the stable for some time after their return, going inside only as the servants were setting out supper. Fin
Walters told him that Annie, having sent Gib down earlier to inquire about the laird’s whereabouts, had come down herself
to collect the tray with her supper and her ladyship’s.

Rob nodded, deciding it was just as well. He invited Fin to take supper with him so they could discuss a project Rob wanted
to begin when the weather cleared.

Their conversation continued over a fresh jug of whisky that Gib carried into the wee chamber behind the hall for them when
they adjourned there as the men began to lay out pallets in the hall for the night. Fin then sent Gibby off to bed.

By the time they bade each other goodnight, Rob felt sleepy enough to doze where he stood. Making his way to his bedchamber,
he did no more than wash his face, strip himself, and fall into bed, where he slept deeply until a bright flash of light and
an explosion of thunder woke him.

Wind was screaming around the tower, sending icy fingers in through the unshuttered window that set the bed curtains swirling.

Mairi was also asleep when the thunder crashed. But she awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright and shaking. She had left
the east-facing window unshuttered from the day of her arrival, feeling no need to shut it even when it rained.

Now, wind attacked the tower from all sides, roaring and howling as fiercely as ever she had heard it. Flashes of lightning,
one after another, and deafening cracks of thunder punctuated the din, in a storm so turbulent that it shook the very walls.

She had long hated big storms, especially in the hilltop Annan House, but she trembled at the force of this one. Trailinghail’s
location high on the cliff, exposed to the strongest winds from the sea, magnified the storm’s effects. Reminding herself
that the tower had withstood many such storms, that there was naught to fear, she sympathized with Tiggie when, trembling,
he squirmed under an arm, into her lap.

Despite her fear, she took a moment to soothe the kitten before getting up and grabbing her robe. Slipping it on, fighting
to tie its sash with the wind madly blowing it awry, she turned toward the open window. As she did, she recalled her complaint
to Rob that the other shutter whistled.

It did whistle whenever the wind blew past it just so. But she had mentioned it only to give herself reason for asking about
the knacker. Doubtless it was whistling now, but she could not hear it over the uproar outside.

The wind raged from the east straight into her room. By the next lightning flash she saw that rain also poured in through
the window.

Just as she saw it, she stepped in a puddle on the floor and slipped.

Struggling to keep her balance and avoiding most of the incoming rain, she grabbed the shutter, unhooked it, and was fighting
the wind to close it when a crash of thunder much louder than the others made her duck and clap her hands to her ears.

The shutter slammed and then crashed open again and against the wall, coming so near her head as she straightened that it
brushed her hair. The wind had reached gale force when the door banged open and glowing light entered the room.

Glancing toward it as she reached again for the shutter, she saw Rob’s unmistakable figure looming at the threshold with a
covered lantern in one hand.

“Get away from that window!” he shouted at her over another flash and its accompanying explosion of thunder.

She stared at him, deafened and quaking, hoping he was real.

Stepping in and quickly shutting the door to stop the wind’s headlong plunge down the stairway, Rob set the lantern on the
settle and hurried to help Mairi.

He was barefoot and had pulled on only his breeks when he’d recalled her damaged shutter. As soon as he did, he had rushed
upstairs to be sure she was safe.

She had not moved, and the wind was whipping her robe around her legs, baring them to her thighs unheeded. She just stared,
so he said firmly, “Lass, get away from the window. That floor is wet, and the lightning is gey close and too dangerous. I’ve
heard of it striking men who stood too near such high windows.”

The wind still screamed and howled round the tower, louder in her room than in his, making the unlatched shutter bang back
and forth while lightning bolts and explosions of booming, cracking thunder hurled themselves about outside.

Wide-eyed, she had frozen there, unable or unwilling to move.

He pushed past her and grabbed the thick shutter, forcing it shut and snapping its two hooks snugly into their iron eyes.

Then he turned and took her firmly by the shoulders. “You’re safe now,” he said, pulling her closer. When she melted toward
him, her arms opening, his hands slid from her shoulders to embrace her, and the rest of his body reacted instantly.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured against her hair. “Ah, lassie, don’t be afraid. I’m here, and this tower has stood far worse.
That shutter is sound, so the other must be the one that needs fixing. Sithee, I forgot till I heard that first great crash.
But if you’ll get back into bed, I’ll see if I can fasten it better.”

“There’s naught amiss with it,” she murmured against his bare chest, her arms tightening around his torso, her warm breath
stirring new and wonderful sensations through his ever-willing body.

But he heard her words and understood them.

“You just wanted to know if there was still a chance you could get a message to the knacker,” he muttered back sternly, hoping
that if she looked up, his body blocked enough of the lantern light to keep her from seeing his smile.

Another crash sounded outside. The tower trembled in the wind, and she clutched him tighter. “I’m sorry I lied,” she said.
“But don’t leave me yet.”

Her shivers were from fear of the storm, he decided, not from cold.

His cock stirred forcefully against his breeks, suggesting that the least he could do was divert her thoughts from the storm.
Putting a hand to her chin, he tilted her face up, gazed searchingly at her, and when her lips parted, he kissed her.

Her lips moved at once beneath his as they had the first time, and she moaned low in her throat. Needing no further invitation,
he slid his hands over the silk robe, damp now and apparently all that she wore. He pressed her closer, enjoying the sensation
of her soft, silk-clad breasts against his bare skin.

Moving one hand to cup the back of her head, he thrust his tongue between her willing lips and began to explore the interior
of her mouth. It was a moment before he realized that her soft hair was damp, too. Even so, he did not want to stop.

She was responding with a passion equal to his, and he felt sure he could stop before things went too far.

Before then, however… He moved his hand from her head down inside her robe to cup a warm silky breast. His thumb brushed over
its nipple, drawing a soft moan. Her hands moved, too, caressing his sides and back until it was all he could do not to take
her to the bed and ravish her.

“’Tis so cold in here; mayhap we should get under the covers,” she murmured then, astonishing him and stirring his cock straight
to attention.

“That is
not
a good notion, lass, believe me.”

“But my feet are freezing. You
must
be cold, too. And my robe is damp.”

And she wore nothing underneath it.

Another crack of thunder made her jump, although it sounded more distant, as if the storm were deciding to move on.

“Please,” she whispered.

He picked her up and carried her to the bed, where the kitten sat, watching. As he laid her down beside it, the tower trembled
in another fierce gust of the wind.

“I should go,” he said.

“No! Please stay.”

“Lass, if I stay, I cannot trust myself to keep my hands off you.”

“I don’t want you to,” she said. “I want you to stay, and I want you to go on touching me. I have never felt such things,
and I want to know what you will do.”

“But—”

“Sithee, I doubt I shall
ever
marry. Even if I do, I may not be able to ask a husband the sorts of questions I know I can ask you. You will not tell me
I do not
need
to know, as my father so often does. Even now, though he teaches me much about estates I may never own, he has told me naught
about men and women.”

“Has not your stepmother explained such things?”

“Nay, only that a woman must obey her husband in all he says to do.”

“All?” His cockstand became painful.

“If you do not want to show me, mayhap you can just describe it for me.”

He could scarcely breathe. His voice was hoarse as he said, “My lady, it would be my pleasure to show you if you are
sure
that is what you want.”

“I am, aye.”

Picking up the kitten, he put it outside the door and turned back, assuring himself that he could end things before he risked
getting her with child. But once he had his breeks off and had climbed into bed with her, his body wanted her as much as his
mind did, if not more fiercely.

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