School For Heiresses 3- Beware A Scot's Revenge Read Online Free PDF Page B

erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html When he drew back, her breath came quickly. “I…I…what do you think you’re…doing, sir?”
    “Proving that you’re a lady of breeding.” He slid his hand about her waist to draw her close. “Because there are certain liberties a lady would never allow me.”
    “How do you know what a lady might allow?” Her warm, spicy breath teased his senses. “Some are more reckless than others, especially when they’re held in the arms of a strapping soldier—”
    He kissed her thoroughly this time, sealing his mouth to hers, drinking in her hot breaths, enjoying the fine tremor of her body against his.
    He’d been aching to do this all night. Not because she was Duncannon’s daughter or because she held the key to his clan’s future, or even because she’d grown into such a bonnie lass. It was because she’d dressed as Flora MacDonald, even though it meant wearing a simpler costume than the other ladies. Because she collected Scottish ballads, of all things. Because she’d had the daring to hint that gentlemen should go bare-arsed under their kilts. It was impossible to resist such a female. Especially knowing that once she found out he was her enemy, she’d only look on him with wild and furious hatred. So before that happened, he had to taste her…touch her…see how far he could tempt her.
    Even if he suffered for it later.
    Chapter Three
    Dear Cousin,
    I’m sure you are right about Lady Venetia’s safety. Lady Kerr is a responsible lady, so I am probably worrying for nothing. I shall let your assurances ease my mind. Your grateful friend,
    Charlotte
    D uring her years on the marriage mart,Venetia had endured the occasional kiss. But none like this. Lord save her, so this was what Mama had meant by rousing her senses. They felt assaulted from every direction…the faint rasp of his whiskers against her skin, the woodsy scent of heather, the surprisingly soft lips that played over hers, molding, testing, tasting, until she thought she might die if he didn’t stop. Then he did, and she wanted to die even more. “Ah, lassie, that is sweet,” he murmured against her lips, sending her into a frenzy of need beyond her experience.
    That was probably why, when he covered her mouth again, she let him do the unthinkable. She let him plunder her mouth with his tongue like some ballad highwayman stealing her gold. And oh, how strangely delicious it was, far better than what her married friends had described. No man had ever dared be so bold, and if he had, she’d have put him right in his place.
    But with this fellow, she wanted it to go on and on…the reckless plunges of his tongue, the silky strokes that launched her heart into a feverish pounding. The champagne she tasted on his lips made it feel as if she’d shared his glass and was now drunk on the heady libation. Oh, such glorious madness. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html Mrs. Harris’s strictures whispered in the back of her mind: never kiss a strange man, beware fortune hunters, always keep your head about you in the dark. She ignored them, counting on her mask to protect her.
    She ached to be a ballad heroine, sneaking out to meet her lover in the secret night, stealing kisses, rousing the wildness that had clamored in her breast for so long she was sick with the need to set it free. So she let him drive his tongue deeply, tangling it with hers before withdrawing, only to thrust again over and over.
    Then he began to touch her, too, skimming his large hands up and down her ribs with shocking possessiveness. How thrilling! How dangerous. Oh, she would regret this later, but for now…
    Her knees grew wobbly, so she flung her arms about his neck and arched up against him—only to steady herself. That’s all. Truly. No other reason.
    He knew better. “Have a care, lass, or you’ll tempt me to be more reckless still.”
    More reckless? She wanted to know what that