The Wolf of Kisimul Castle
He crossed to the window without a word and looked out at the courtyard, his eyes scanning beyond. “Where is everyone?” he asked. “At the chapel, I assume,” she said, stepping closer. He probably smelled of sweat or ale. She inhaled. Nay. She smelled pine and the sea and fresh air on him.
He turned, and she rubbed her nose to hide the action of sniffing him. His gaze dropped to her as if her nearness surprised him. “We will go,” he said.
Mairi sighed. “I won’t have Geoff wondering if I would have failed his test, so go ahead.” She let her eyes flutter shut and waited. “Go ahead?” he repeated, and she blinked open.
“Aye,” she said, starting to feel foolish. “Kiss me, if ye’re going to. Otherwise take me to the chapel.”
The only change in the man’s devilishly handsome face was a slight rise in his brows, his clear blue-gray eyes widening the smallest amount. Those damnably tempting lips opened and closed, and his gaze drifted to the shut door before returning to her. He stared at her, as if he were delving into her thoughts. The idea shook Mairi, and she frowned.
“Well, if ye’re not—”
The man wrapped his hand around her arm, slowly reeling her in with constant, gentle pressure until she had to tip her head back to see his face. He radiated authority and determination, as if he could order the mountains to move, yet chose to hold her instead. Her heart hammered in her chest as he set his hand on her cheek. “A kiss, and then we go,” he murmured, moving his thumb across her jaw.
She had time for only a quick inhale as he descended. Mairi had expected a bruising press of his mouth like Geoff had given her when he’d asked her to wed. But this man’s kiss was gentle and warm. With slight pressure, he tipped her head to seal their lips together, moving against her as if tasting an aged whisky. Heat flowed down through
Mairi, wiping away all rational thought. Her knees numbed, but the man seemed to accept her weight easily as he held her against his hard body. His height made him loom over her, but Mairi felt safely surrounded by power instead of fearful. Her fingers reached behind his head to feather through his wavy hair. They were still woven in the dark mass when he gently pulled back, ending the most sensuous kiss Mairi had ever experienced. What bloody foolishness was Geoff thinking? Her traitorous body begged for more, but she stepped back, hands to her flushed skin above her low neckline. The man adjusted himself through his kilt, proving that he too had been affected by the kiss.
“Who are ye?” she asked.