In the Laird's Bed Read Online Free PDF

touch had the sense of fate about it, and he recalled another touch, another kiss, another moment so similar to this one. The fact that Cristiana was no longer his did not alter a compelling urge to take her. To steal as much from her and the moment as she would allow.

Chapter Three
    C ristiana held her breath at the feel of Duncan’s fingers skimming her temple to sift lightly through her hair. To allow such a touch was foolishness, when they were utterly alone here. Her sister had been wooed to ruination once, and paid for it still. Would Cristiana follow in her footsteps?
    Yet a part of her wanted to know if she had imagined the delight she’d once found in Duncan’s caress.
    Heaven help her, she had not.
    “I understand there will be sacrifices with my choice,” she answered finally, willing herself to step back, out of his reach.
    But with her heart thudding a slow, insistent rhythm in her chest, she could not hasten her feet to do herbid ding. There had been a time when she dreamed nightly of belonging to this man—body and soul.
    “Do you?” He smoothed his thumb along her cheek and down to her jaw, stopping just below her chin. “Can you truly appreciate what you will miss when you’ve never experienced it?”
    Heat sparked over her skin as he drew closer. From this distance, she could see the flecks of gold in his green eyes. Then her gaze flicked down to his mouth as she remembered the feel of his lips upon hers. His kiss had been exquisitely sweet. Patient. Stirring.
    A new, small scar speared his top lip with a tiny white line. She found herself wondering what that marred skin would feel like against her mouth if he were to kiss her again.
    Her heavy heartbeat sped faster, anticipation humming in her veins even as she reminded herself that he could play this game far better than she could. Five years ago hadn’t he made her believe he cared about her, then raced away to another woman’s arms without ever acknowledging Edwina had a legitimate complaint against Donegal’s brutish behavior?
    “I suppose it is easier not to miss something you’ve never had.” Her voice was naught but a whisper between them, a quiet confession for his ears only.
    Time dragged out. She wished for some kind of intercession to break the spell he’d cast over her. But perhaps if she indulged this once—if she made a decision to take some small pleasure from him on her ownterms—she would not be so plagued with wonder about the attraction she couldn’t deny.
    “No good strategist makes a decision without adequate information.” His gaze tracked hers. He handled her gently despite her fears about the Culcanon brutishness. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten the power of even one simple kiss.”
    His lips covered hers before she could argue the point. And wasn’t it wicked of her that she did not want to argue it? The arrogant young laird could be mounting a takeover of her keep and yet all that concerned her right now was to test her fanciful memories of him against the truth of the flesh-and-blood man.
    Pleasure flooded her faster than strong mead warmed the blood. At the feel of his mouth on hers, her knees wavered. His hand curved about her neck, holding her still for the quick, silken lash of his tongue along the fullness of her lip. She seemed to melt on contact, her whole body swaying until it found the steadying strength of his. Her lips parted, opening to his kiss.
    In for a penny, in for a pound. At least this once.
    Her fingers clutched at his cloak, seeking anything to steady herself. She gripped the fine wool in clenched fists as her body trembled beneath layers of the worn linen gown meant for working in the brew house. Now, that soft, much-washed fabric afforded her little protection from the raw masculine appealof his muscular form. Her breasts pressed tight to his chest, the pleasant friction making her head spin with carnal thoughts no maid had a right to consider.
    But the feel of her body against his