In the Laird's Bed Read Online Free PDF Page B

consumed her. This was why she had not wanted to wed. The memory of her last kiss with Duncan had been thus and she feared it would not be the same with any other. For all that she was a maid, she knew deep down this kind of passionate potential did not exist between every man and woman. And—after once having the smallest taste of this soul-stealing excitement—she could not imagine settling for a cold coupling with some man twice her age.
    “Cristiana.” Duncan spoke her name over her lips between kisses. “You were meant to be touched. Kissed. Tasted.”
    Arching up on her toes, she brushed her mouth to his again, luring him back to wreak the skillful magic that made her senseless with desire. She just needed another moment. A last few stolen minutes to feel passion she’d never know again.
    His hands locked about her waist. Holding her against him, yet restraining her from further contact. She blinked, confused.
    “Why did you refuse me?” His voice was harsh, all traces of the silken-tongued suitor gone. “Why punish us both for a sin we did not commit? Was it not enough that Edwina broke her oath to Donegal? You had to break yours to me, as well?”
    Her senses returned so quickly she felt a chill at the loss of passionate heat. She tried to wrench free, regret stinging sharp. His grip did not budge, however. Emerald eyes pierced hers, demanding answers she had already given.
    “Do not pretend to have felt punished when you ran to your leman with the haste of a man who has been at sea for years,” she accused. His defection to another woman’s arms had rubbed salt in a wound since he had murmured sweet words in her ear the day prior about making love to her.
    “You are so coldhearted that you would deny a man all comfort? Perhaps I should have sailed straight into battle afterward to take out my fury on an unsuspecting enemy?” His features were hard. Unforgiving. And bore no trace of the man she’d kissed.
    Which was just as well. She would rather not face that man again anytime soon.
    “The point is that you never gave up your lover when you were pretending to court me. And it was not my sister who broke the oath of the betrothal,” she insisted. “’Twas Donegal who simply took what he wanted without respect to the marriage contract. For my part, I would never wed a man who would take his family’s side so quickly he does not see the truth.”
    “I might say the same of you. Why are you so sure your sister did not find Donegal’s bed willingly,only to regret it later? You have seen how persuasive a man’s touch can be.”
    The sharp bite of his comment sank long teeth in an old wound. Anger erupted, giving her the strength to yank away.
    “How flattering to know you only kiss with a purpose. But I will not defend myself or my sister to you again. You chose long ago to side with your brother who, I’ve since heard, has shown his true nature in your absence by bankrupting your lands and dividing your people. Yet you still believe he acted nobly in his treatment of my sister?” She stalked to the other side of the cook fire beneath the cauldron, needing a barrier between her and any man who could make her so angry.
    She had lost so much, thanks to his need to humiliate her. Her family. And could he be so blind to Donegal’s character still? How could she trust him with her own people if he couldn’t discern clearly?
    “He may have been a poor manager of people and lands. At the time, I could not see how that made him the beast your sister portrayed him as.” He stalked to the cupboard and retrieved a vessel, then plunged it into an open pot of fermenting mead. “Besides, I saw Edwina depart the hall with Donegal myself that night they consummated their relationship. They stole kisses in the courtyard as they left. And I assure you, Edwina did not give those kisses begrudgingly.”
    “Stop.” Cristiana refused to think on that nightanymore. She certainly did not want to consider the