Questions for a Highlander

by Angeline Fortin

  His fingers caressed hers and entwined. His breath whispered against her ear, “Where did everyone go?”

  “They’ve retired for the evening, I believe. Francis…” She breathed his name, barely a sigh. With an internal moan of surrender, Eve leaned back against his chest as he bent his head to inhale the fragrance of her hair. “Eden, my sweet Paradise,” he whispered, before caressing her neck with his lips. Eve gloried in the rush of heat that cursed through her. She knew it was wrong but perhaps for just one small moment….

  From the upper gallery that overlooked the parlor, Moira watched as Francis stepped behind her friend and took her hand. She saw the look on his face and hers as they touched. It was as if time had suspended them. She could fairly feel the emotion pouring from each of them. She felt like an intruder just for witnessing their union of hands. Though they made no move to touch each other beyond the entwined fingers, their expressions were both savoring and longing. In that instant, she wondered what it would be like to feel so much at one time and have it be returned. It made her remember things that were best left behind, but envy touched her for just a moment. Then she wondered again if it would be worth it.

  “Moira,” Abby’s whispered words interrupted her thoughts. “Come away now.”

  “Are you sure this isn’t all wrong, Abby?” Moira questioned, for even though she had encouraged Eve to madness, she knew Abby to be more conservative in her views. But to her surprise, Abby shook her head.

  “If either one of them finds happiness for even a moment, I will be happy for them,” Abby whispered. “She is a good woman who could use a good man, and he is a good man who was saddled with the wrong woman for much too long.”

  “She’ll never do it though. She’s changed,” Moira worried. The Eve of today was nothing like the girl she had known years ago. She was withdrawn, reserved. Moira so longed for her to come out of her shell and return to the vibrant, brash American girl she used to be.

  “She’ll never do anything if we interrupt.”

  “We’ve encouraged her all we can to seize the moment,” Moira whispered back. “All we can do is hope that they succumb to it.”

  “What do you know of succumbing, Moira MacKenzie?”

  “Well there’s not much to do at home other than read, and I’ve found some very good books of late.” Moira waggled her brows. “Come, let me show you.”

  Francis turned Eve in his arms and looked down into her face. “Open your eyes.”

  Eve shook her head. “I cannot. Sometimes with you I feel as if I am living a fairytale, all the while knowing there will be no happy ending.”

  “We can make our own happy ending, my love.”

  There was such certainty in his voice that Eve looked up and stared into the mossy green depths of his eyes. Her chest clenched almost painfully as the emotion she found in them overwhelmed her bringing tears to hers. “Francis…” Eve smiled softly up at him, her hands slid up his chest and around his neck and finally she gave in and embraced him, fully pressing her body to his. He gathered her up to him, his embrace tighter than her corsets ever had been. When she squealed, he swung her around in a small circle with a laugh and set her back on her feet.

  “Thank you,” he said simply.

  “For what?”

  “For showing me once more the lass I met so long ago.”

  “I did not realize she was hiding,” she said in automatic denial.

  “Did you not?” Francis shook his head as she started to reply. “You have been different. I know I did not have much, hardly any, time with you years ago, but I knew you. So full of life, passion, spit and fire. I knew it was still there, but repressed. All week I’ve been trying to tease you out of that shell and tonight as I look at you, there you are. The light is back in your eyes.” He caressed her cheek. “What has changed?”

  “Good friends said something that made me think,” she replied honestly. “Something that could probably translate as ‘life is for the living’.”

  “An excellent motto,” he commented lightly, bending his head to nuzzle the side of her neck and feeling her responsive shudder at the light touch.

  A big, warm hand cupped the bottom of her breast, sending a shiver of excitement through her. “I haven’t really lived these past many years.”

  “Nor have I.” Not until the moment I saw you once more. He pulled back and looked down at her. “Are you not going to push me away as you have done all week? Slap my hands and tell me to mind myself?”

  “Surprisingly, I don’t think so.” She teased his earlobe with a finger. “Do you want me to?

  “Not surprisingly, I don’t think so,” he admitted with a shaky laugh. The parlor was very warm. Too warm, Francis thought, fingering his tight collar as a thin sheen of sweat moistened his skin.

  He was alone with her. Where was everyone anyway?

  Alone with her.

  Francis thought of his resolve to hold his seduction for the time being. To court her slowly. But he was alone with her, as he hadn’t been able to be the entire week. The reality echoed through his mind. Alone. The realization kept pumping through his already heated veins. God, he wanted her. More than that, he needed her. Not only physically. He needed her to realize that marriage, specifically with him, could be full of promise. Their salvation.

  Just as he needed to recall his plan to win her over. But whether she knew it or not, the look in her eyes was frankly inviting and even warmer than the room. Suddenly he couldn’t stand to be so close to her. If he got too close, there was no telling what he would do. He meant to court her at leisure not ravage her into submission! “We shouldn’t be here alone…” Francis swallowed deeply knowing he couldn’t tell her what he really wanted. He knew her values weren’t just going to fall away, that she would never become a man’s mistress. And she wasn’t yet ready to become his wife. “Eden–” He paused, loving the feel of her name on his lips. He said it again. “Eden…”

  She swayed before him. “Yes?” Every nerve in her body was alive and waiting. Waiting for what? He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and suddenly she knew. She wanted those hands, those big wonderful hands on her. She wanted him in a way she had never known a woman could want a man. This was desire. She wanted him and desired him…badly! And as much as she knew he wanted her, he would never make a definitive move to bed her. He had said he would not seduce her and she knew him well enough to know the first move would have to be hers. She fisted her hands uncertainly. What to do?

  Not giving herself a chance to question or deny the feelings or to alter her conclusion, she leaned even farther toward him and he leapt away so abruptly she nearly fell. He jumped back and paced the room. Her eyes followed him watching as the muscles in his legs rippled with each step beneath his breeches. She loved to watch him. Admire him. She had been watching him all week in spite of herself and had become very familiar with the movements of his body. He rubbed his palms down the front of his pants. He was nervous, she realized vaguely. How cute. A slight smile tilted the corner of her lips. The mouse decides she wants to play with the cat and now the cat doesn’t know what to do, hmmm?

  “I should leave you to retire, I suppose…” He turned on his heel, his long stride taking him out of the room and into the hall to the base of the sweeping staircase.

  Evelyn ran quickly to catch up with him catching him by his arm. “But, Francis….”

  “No, I do not want you to feel pressured to do anything rash, Eden. Anything that you’ll regret.”

  She slid an arm over his shoulder and pulled his lips to meet hers in a warm, lustful kiss full of passion and promise. For an instant her trembling body melted against his in longing. His hands gripped her hips tightly and pulled her to him roughly before he stepped away. Too late, though, Evelyn had felt his passion and knew he desired her as acutely as she wanted him. “Perhaps we should retire to a room with a bit more privacy and find out what I won’t regret.”

  “This isn’t what you want, Eden,” h
e rasped hoarsely.

  “Isn’t it?” she whispered her voice more seductive than she realized.

  “It isn’t what I want,” he amended. Indeed he wanted more. So much more.

  “Isn’t it?” she taunted with an alluring smile. Eve realized she felt strangely powerful in that moment. She was in control in a way that she had never experienced. It was intoxicating to know that she had the choice where before she never had. In itself, it was a potent aphrodisiac.

  Trailing her hand down his arm, she clasped his hand in hers. Staring directly into his eyes, she stepped away from him. Back another to the base of the stairs and at arm’s length. Still another and their hands loosened. Stepping onto the bottom step, she smiled and let go of his hand. Turning her back to him and chancing that he wouldn't run, Evelyn climbed slowly up half way. She cast a look over her shoulder and found him poised with a foot on the lowest step and a hand on the banister.

  “Eden, I’m trying,” he tried to reason with her and with the inner battle between body and mind. He was resisting for her, wasn’t he? Reason seemed to have abandoned him. “Please…”

  “Yes, please,” she returned in a low voice and continued to the top of the stairs.

  Francis watched her climb, her tournure and all the fabric that trailed up and over it swishing provocatively behind her. The sway of her bottom mesmerized him and knew he was totally lost. He'd tried to fight this for her sake, for propriety's sake. But…if she wanted him! The blood roared through his veins. By God she would have him as he would have her!

  Taking the stairs two at a time like an exuberant schoolboy, he caught her at the top and swung her into his arms. Looking down into her surprised face, he grinned devilishly. “You did say please.”

  Evelyn threw her arms about his neck and hung on as he carried her to her room. “I’ll have to remember how well you respond to that word in the future.”

  Chapter 27

  She was actually a bit nervous herself, Eve admitted inwardly as Francis carried her down the hall. Not only did she fear taking their relationship to the bedroom on purely moral grounds, but, in spite of her bold invitation, her experience in the bedchamber was minimal at best. Encounters with William had always been brief, dispassionate and often uncomfortable. She had never actually wanted to make love before. The aching in her body this past week told her that there had to be more than she had previously experienced. How could there not? Oh she wished, hoped it would be so!

  Locking her bedchamber door behind them, Francis caught her in his powerful arms and drew her to him for a deep kiss that she felt to her toes. His hands fluttered up her back and it took her a moment to realize that he was undoing the trail of buttons to her gown. It fell first to her hips then he pushed it down until it dropped to the floor. Turning her in his arms, he nuzzled her neck while he worked the ties of her long corset until it too dropped with a solid thump. Turning back to face him, Eve backed slowly away holding his gaze with hers as she nervously pushed the straps to her chemise off her shoulders and shimmied it off .

  As her flesh was revealed bit by bit, Francis’ blood roared in his ears. Her flesh was creamy white, her breasts full over a tiny waist. His eyes wandered over the flair of her hips and down those long legs. She was a goddess and his eyes worshipped her.

  His raised his eyes back to her and Eve could read the appreciation and heat there. A shiver of satisfaction went through her that she could please and arouse him so and her nervous tension eased. Reaching the bed, she perched on the edge and bent to remove her stockings, her eyes still locked with his, now enjoying his reactions.

  It had been on the tip of Francis’ tongue to ask Eve to leave her stockings on until she started sliding them slowly down her legs. As he watched their slow descent, his mouth went dry and he was entranced. Eve was a tall woman, well-toned from her athletic activities and those long legs just seemed to go on forever. He couldn’t wait to have them wrapped around his hips.

  Eve watched as he prowled slowly toward her shedding his tie and jacket as he came. The flickering firelight played sensually over the contours and hollows of his thick, muscled torso as he pulled his shirt over his head. Her breath caught with wonder at the beauty of his muscular physique as the heavy muscles on his chest and arms bunched and flexed. She shivered as she imagined rubbing her cheek, pressing her lips to the hard ridges of his stomach.

  Francis was watching her as she studied him, he saw a range of emotion and feeling cross her wide eyes until they became a hazy green with sheer lust. Francis felt a shiver run up his spine as his own lust rose to match hers. He wanted her. So much so, he simply couldn't believe it. She heated his blood in a way he'd never thought possible. He moved closer to stand over her but her eyes did not rise to his. Instead they remained trained on his bare stomach. His muscles tensed as he felt her visual caress. Her slender hand rose as if by its own will and a single finger drew a light, teasing line down the center of his abdomen to his navel. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and she began to lean forward. His heart pounded so wildly in anticipation that he could see his own chest move with the intensity of it.

  Evelyn's hands moved to the sides of his hips as if to hold him there should he attempt to move away. Move away! As if he could move away even if his life depended on it! Her head tilted up, her chin resting on his stomach as she smiled seductively up at him. A moment later his unfastened trousers dropped low on his hips clinging there as she spread the fabric to reveal more of him.

  Eve knew she was tormenting her earl as his breath grew ragged and his muscles tensed. Waiting. With one last smile, she turned her head to the side and rubbed her cheek against the flat rippling muscles thinking his stomach much like the washboard the laundress used with its dips and ridges. She continued to rub her cheeks, first one and then the other, against the washboard plains of his stomach marveling at the hardness she found there, the heat that radiated from him and the furious pounding of his heart that moved his whole body. She could feel his body shake. Lord, he was trembling! An answering quiver shook her body.

  “Eden…my God,” he groaned throwing back his head and diving his hands into her lustrous honey-gold hair sending the pins flying as the silken mass dropped heavily over his arms and down her back.

  Turning her head, she pressed a warm kiss just above his navel, her hands curling at his sides. Her heart picking up in tempo, she traced a wet line along the muscle strands back and forth, tasting. When her hand slid up to cup him, he pulled back with a low hiss.

  Eve looked at him once more her lips wet and parted in silent invitation.

  Without a word, Francis pushed her onto her back. His kisses were anything but sweet and gentle now. His lips ravaged hers passionately nipping, biting and threatening to devour her whole while his hands roamed down kneading her hips and legs parting them so that he could press himself against her center. His teeth and lips trailed down her neck to her breast playing the same ravaging game on their sensitive peaks.

  Gasping in surprise, Eve arched mindlessly under his touch. If he were anything but gentle it was because she drove him to it. She was in awe of her power to drive him to this state of ardor where he was so lost in need that even thoughts of tenderness did not soften his touch. Eve didn't care, she gloried in it, this possession of her body that wasn’t at all a punishment.

  “My God, Eden,” his husky brogue caressed her, “How I want ye. I want to take ye. I want to be inside ye so fooking badly.”

  A shudder ripped through Eve at these words. Her arms wrapped tightly about him encouraging him to act. Still he lingered, moved lower, his lips and tongue trailing roughly across her stomach. Playing her own game, he rubbed his whiskered face against her stomach from side to side. With a deep moan, Evelyn buried her hands in his hair and pulled urging him up and over her, but still he lingered and moved lower still.

  “Francis?” The confused question came panting from her lips. “What?”

  “Trust me, my paradise.” His
rough tongue licked at the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh and higher, parting her and taking her most sensitive flesh into his mouth. Eve reared off the bed with a harsh cry that was nothing like anything his proper lass had ever uttered before as she pulled at his hair to push him away. To pull him closer. He licked again and circled the little bud back into his mouth before tormenting her with his tongue once more. A shudder racked her body as she arched helplessly with another cry. And another as he went on roughly tonguing her, suckling until she was sobbing with need then her thighs tensed signaling her impending release.

  “Francis,” she panted breathlessly. “Please!”

  With a strangled groan at the word, he shed his trousers with a kick before he moved his massive body over her, hooking her leg with his arm until her knee was pressed against her chest before he drove into her with all the intensity of feeling and emotion that was flowing through him taking her mouth once more in a kiss hot and wet.

  Evelyn gasped into his mouth in astonishment and delight as he filled her. Their eyes met for a moment acknowledging in the wonder of his possession before he began to move within her. Her last coherent thought was that she was going to die from the sheer ecstasy of it and that she would not mind dying like this. Francis did not let up. He drove into her with long powerful strokes, rhythmically pounding down into her over and over. Evelyn was nearly crying with the intensity of it as tension rebuilt at her core and reached its tendrils down her inner thighs, her every breath a sob of joy and passion begging him to stop, begging him to go on and on forever.

  She wrapped her long legs around him and locked him tight as his rhythm increased. Her hands flexed with every stroke of his body over her, her fingernails biting into the flesh of his back and his buttocks. Francis thrust into her savagely again, his whole body shaking. Eve's muscles clenched in answer. She threw back her head and screamed her release into the room. Francis joined her in ecstasy, his face buried in her throat to muffle his own cry of release.