“Morwyn.”
“Yes,” Jane nodded. “She let me accompany her on a few visits to pregnant women and to births, and I was quite intrigued. I began to gather my own assortment of expertise. I am not particularly skilled at any one thing, but I have an idea of how to help others should the need arise.”
“That is useful knowledge,” he said. “I shall be sure to call on you if I am ever in need.”
“Be sure you do,” Jane said quietly, thinking of another time, another place when they would be back in the Highlands. Would Duncan ever look at her again, or even think of her at all after they returned?
They had walked down the entirety of the lane now, and were approaching the green space she had seen earlier but had not yet explored. A pebbled path led through the trees, and Duncan inhaled deeply as they reached it.
“It’s not quite the same,” he said, catching her eye, “but it’s something.”
“It’s something,” she agreed, and he tugged her arm in tighter against him. Soon enough they were surrounded by evergreens and a few beech trees which had likely been leafless for a month or so now. “Look,” she said as she tilted her head back, “it’s beginning to snow.”
It was as though the sky had opened and God was dropping the thick white flakes right down upon them. Jane couldn’t help herself. She stuck out her tongue, catching one in midair. She laughed at Duncan’s surprised expression.
“Try it,” she said, nearly breathless, and he hesitated for a moment, but then dipped his head back and did the same.
He caught one as Jane stepped back and spun around, the flakes coming faster and thicker around her.
“It’s beautiful,” she said as the trees around them were now just visible in the falling snow.
“Very,” Duncan said, the word sounding reverent, and the way he rolled his Rs caused a tremble deep within Jane. She took a breath as they both sobered, seemingly aware that they could no longer ignore what was growing between them.
“Duncan—”
Before she could finish the sentence, however, she was in his arms, being kissed senseless once again. All she could do was fist a hand in his hair and hold on tight.
* * *
Duncan was well aware that Jane wanted to talk to him. But he had never been much for words — he was far more a man of action. He had no idea what he wanted to say to her. All he knew was that he didn’t want to let go of this Jane Campbell, and there was only one way to explain it.
The trouble was, he wanted her with every fibre of his being, and he was not entirely sure how she was going to react to such a revelation.
His hands were everywhere as he sought to be closer to her — under her cloak, around her waist, up to cup her ribs before stroking her back. She didn’t seem to have any issue with it, for she was holding onto him with a strength he would never have thought was within her.
“Jane,” he groaned as he ached for her, throbbing with need for attention — attention only Jane could provide.
She stepped back from him, looking up and searching his eyes as though they would hold some answer she was seeking, and he knew she must be feeling as he did.
“Duncan,” she said, her breaths coming quickly, “I did want to talk.”
“I’m not much of a talker.”
“I realize that.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Jane,” he said, his words harsher than he had intended. “To me, women have always been… women. I’ve never had any particular feelings for them, other than knowing when I’m attracted to some of them and not attracted to others.”
“Well, you never noticed me,” she said with a frown. “In fact, you forgot me.”
“I did,” he admitted, grinding his teeth. “Jane, I’ve never taken any particular time to get to know any woman well enough to determine if I might like her beyond what I could see.”
“What about Mary?”
He grimaced. “I suppose I did get to know Mary well enough, but all I found was that the two of us did not get on particularly well.”
Jane smiled at that.
“I can see why that might be. You’re both rather… headstrong.”
He inclined his head in agreement.
“True. And you, Jane—”
“Allow people like you and Mary to do as you please?”
He shook his head.
“That wasn’t at all what I was going to say. In fact, I was going to say that you are the perfect balance. You’re a calming presence. Considerate when others might not be thinking what they need to. And somehow, with your patience, you’re able to keep Mary to her bed when necessary.”
Jane laughed lightly at that. “That is not an easy feat.”
“No, it is not,” Duncan said, stepping in toward her, closing any space that remained between them. He brought his index finger underneath her chin, tipping her head up toward him.
“I’m not proud of missing you before, Jane,” he said, his eyes searching hers. “But I see you now. And I’m glad for it.”
Then he sealed his words with one more kiss that left even him, the great Duncan McDougall, quaking in his boots.
Chapter 10
Jane couldn’t sleep. How could she possibly after all that had happened with Duncan that afternoon? She could admit to holding out some hope that he would kiss her again — after all, he seemed quite the virile man. But that he would share with her words that led her to believe that he just might be interested in more than a short liaison… now she just had to decide if that was what she wanted as well.
The only problem? She couldn’t get past the emotion he evoked within her, nor the physical desire his touch summoned forth.
It was maddening. Jane knew many young men and had been attracted and interested in them before. But none to the extent of Duncan McDougall.
She had awoken in a light sweat despite the cold winter night, and she swung her legs over the bed and padded over to the window. She pushed back the curtain to see that the London street below her was blanketed in a light dusting of snow, and she smiled at the sight. If it was going to be cold, it might as well be a beautiful white. She loved when the frost coated the trees, as though they had been dipped in sugar.
Jane had no idea what time it was, but from the complete absence of any movement outdoors, she assumed it must be the middle of the night, and yet, she was completely awake. How she was ever going to find slumber again was beyond her.
She resigned herself to the fact that she was likely going to be up for a few hours. She ran her hands over the mantel on top of the fireplace until she found the matchbox, and lit the candle next to her bed. Finding her book, she opened it to the last page she had read, but sighed when she realized she had but a chapter left. Making short work of it, she soon found herself off the bed once more, but this time she was headed downstairs in search of another book that would hopefully lull her to sleep.
Jane had just reached the bottom stair when she heard a soft thud from across the room, followed by a curse.
She knew that voice.
“Duncan?”
“Jane?” he hissed, followed by another curse, and she peered through the darkness to see what he was up to.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Looking for something,” he muttered back. “Never mind that. Why are you awake at this time of night?”
“I… couldn’t sleep,” she said, heat rushing into her cheeks when she thought of just why that was the case, but she wasn’t about to share that with him. “I came down to find a book.”
She crossed the room determinately to the bookshelf in the corner. Mary wasn’t much of a reader, but Billy must be.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he drawled. “Why ever not?”
“My mind was on other things,” she said, choosing a book at random from the shelf and beginning to flip through the pages.
“Like what?”
“Like… the book that I was previously reading.”
“If you can
tell me what it was about at this very moment, then I will buy you every book you could ever wish for.”
Jane bit her lip as she closed her eyes, trying to remember what she had been reading not long at all before.
But she couldn’t. For all she could see was the vivid dream she had been having of Duncan—or, more specifically, of her and Duncan.
She cleared her throat as she attempted to come up with something.
“Well, there was a man.”
“Oh?” he said, sounding quite interested in what else she had to say, and she hastily added, “And a woman.”
It was the wrong thing to say. He chuckled lowly. “I think I would like to hear more about this.”
“Nothing too interesting,” she said, trying to control her breath and her voice. “He was searching for her, followed some clues, and, in the end, he found her.”
Her book hadn’t been anything at all like that, but she figured she had accomplished a fairly fine lie.
At Duncan’s snort, however, she knew she was wrong about that.
Jane tried to ignore the increased beating of her heart the closer she came to Duncan. It was as though the man’s very presence increased her pulse and caused all of the blood to pool and descend to the very place she wanted him.
Which was ridiculous. Jane had never been the kind of woman to give into such base desires. She was level-headed, calm, and rational.
Although she had also always been quite in tune with the emotions of others, and when it came to Duncan…
“Jane?”
She gasped when his whisper came from right behind her ear.
“For a big man, you sure move stealthily,” she said, waiting for her heart to resume its normal beat. But that was not going to happen. Not when his hands slowly, so lightly they tickled, spanned her waist, before he locked them around one another, his arms pulling her back against him.
She was still facing the shelf, but she had lost all capacity to read the titles before her. Duncan reached up and took the candle from her, placing it on a side table, which was likely for the best, as Jane seemed liable to drop it.
“Duncan,” she whispered, “what are you doing?”
“Holding you. Is that a crime?”
“I…” Oh, goodness, he was kissing her neck. How did the most feather-light of touches cause such a thrill? “I suppose not.”
“I didn’t think so,” he growled, his hands now skimming up and down her sides, and Jane groaned at the response they evoked.
She leaned back into him, tilting her head to the side to provide him with better access. She really shouldn’t be doing this, and yet…
“What was that?”
Something sharp and prickly prodded the side of her head, and when she turned to try to see just what it was, she was only rewarded with another poke to the face.
“Ouch.”
“It’s the Christmas tree,” Duncan said with some bitterness, and Jane had to laugh at how fervently he hated it. She actually quite enjoyed the greenery in the house. It took up a great deal of space, but reminded her of home.
All of those thoughts, however, soon fled as Duncan’s hands rose higher, cupping the underside of her breasts, and Jane inhaled sharply.
“Duncan…”
“You shouldn’t have roamed this house wearing just your night rail, you know that, do you not?”
“I now see what perils there are in doing such a thing.”
He chuckled lowly into her neck, and she turned in his arms. When she did so, he brushed his thumbs over her nipples, and she physically shivered at the touch.
She lifted her mouth, meeting his, and this time she was the aggressor, seeking entry and torturing his tongue with hers.
He finally wrenched his mouth away from hers with a groan, dropping his forehead against hers.
“Oh, Jane,” he muttered. “This is a mistake.”
“What?” she lifted her head from his. “How can you say such a thing? I thought you—that is—” she pursed her lips. “You were the one that started this.”
“You’re right,” he said, running a hand over his face. “I did. But the problem is… if we go any further, I don’t think I will be able to stop.”
“Then don’t,” she said, both her voice and her breathing ragged, and he stiffened in her arms, his hands resting around her ribs.
“You don’t know what you’re asking.”
* * *
Jane snorted. “I am the daughter of a physician and have spent a great deal of time assisting a midwife. I know perfectly well what I am asking, although this was not quite how I had thought to discover such a thing. Now…” She could hardly believe she was saying the words, but her desire seemed to overcome every hint of shyness that lurked within her, “shall we return to my chamber or to yours?”
He hesitated for a moment, until he replied with his gutted words.
“Yours.”
She took his hand in hers before he changed his mind, and quickly they navigated around the Christmas tree, up the staircase, and down the corridor to her chamber.
“How close are you to Billy and Mary’s room?” he murmured, and Jane answered that they were just down the hall. So he would have to ensure they remained as quiet as could be, he reasoned, already hardening just thinking of his time with her.
Oh, he really shouldn’t be doing this. But he could no more drag himself away from her than he could return to Scotland leaving both Campbell sisters behind him.
The moment they were through the door and she had shut it softly behind them, he spun her around and trapped her against it, pinning her there between his arms. He bent his head and tasted her once more, caught up in everything that was so uniquely Jane — her size, her shape, her scent, and her taste. He lifted her up, spinning her around and walking her toward the bed. It was not particularly large, certainly meant for just one person, but it would do.
He allowed her feet to touch the floor once more, her calves pressing into the bed behind her. Her knees bent as she stretched out backward over the bed. Duncan covered her, which wasn’t overly difficult as she was so slight and small. A surge of protectiveness for her overcame him, and he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and never let her go.
She nuzzled her face into the side of his neck and when a low mewling sound came from the back of her throat, he nearly sighed in wonderment.
It didn’t take long to divest of her of the night rail that hadn’t been enough to hide her from him and his desires, and soon she was sprawled backward on the mattress, her dark hair shimmering on the pillow around her, her beautiful breasts waiting for his attention.
“Are you…” she stammered when he did nothing but stare down at her, “are you going to… do anything?”
He would have laughed was he not so focused on maintaining a sense of control, and he grinned wolfishly at her.
“I am enjoying the view.”
Jane’s eyes widened in shock, and when Duncan leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, she kissed him back with a ferocity that would have knocked him off his feet. She kissed him with a passion unlike anything he had ever felt from another before, and he knew he had to do something before this ended far earlier than he would have liked.
He slid down her body, pausing to attend to each of her breasts, to which she moaned in pleasure. He continued on until he settled beneath her legs, tracing his fingers over exactly where she wanted him. When she lifted herself to him, he tasted her, and she cried out. When she was finally trembling in wait for him, he knew she was ready, and he lifted his head. He raised himself onto his knees, but before this went any further, he needed one more thing.
“Jane,” he ground out, more urgency in his words than he had intended, “look at me.”
She followed his command, her eyes hooded in desire.
“Do you still want this?” he asked, needing to hear the words one more time. “Do you want me?”
“I’ve never wanted anything more,” she said, the wor
ds a hoarse whisper.
And with that, he leaned down, placed his hands over her hips, and slowly pushed into her. It took everything within him to pause, until she was the one who began to move, and he answered her in kind.
He met her gaze, her dark blue eyes soulful and seemingly staring right through him, learning his every thought. They had come together now, but in more than just the physical sense. He couldn’t describe it, but he knew that nothing between them — or within him — would ever be the same.
She lifted her hands and began running them up and down his arms, her touch featherlight, and for a moment he would have sworn that he felt buoyed and more whole just from her ministrations.
Until her fingernails bit into him as she tightened around him, and all thought fled as Duncan became lost in her. Her breath was quick, short, and Duncan began to pump feverishly as he tended to her breasts. She lifted her legs higher around him, and he twined his fingers into her silken hair as she exploded around him, which sent him following quickly, until he was hurtling over the edge and into her arms.
It took him more than a moment to recover, and suddenly the best feeling he had ever known was replaced with panic.
“Are you all right, Jane?” he asked, looking down at her, seeking an answer. “Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head and he rested his forehead against hers.
“That was magnificent,” she whispered.
“No, Jane,” he said, shaking his head. “You are magnificent.”
Chapter 11
Duncan had wrapped one arm around Jane, pulling her closer so that she could lay her cheek on his chest to sleep. He wasn’t sure how long he lay there watching her, but he was just beginning to doze off when a sharp rap sounded on the door, followed by the call of Billy’s voice.
Duncan’s Christmas: The Victorian Highlanders Prequel Page 7