The Highlander's Christmas Bride

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The Highlander's Christmas Bride Page 32

by Vanessa Kelly


  She raised an incredulous eyebrow.

  “It’s understandable,” he said with a lopsided smile. “I confess to feeling the same way.”

  “I have never once seen you nervous, even when we were attacked on the Perth Bridge.”

  “Och, that wasn’t nearly as nerve-wracking as tonight.”

  Donella scowled. “You shouldn’t tease, you know. I already feel like a henwit.”

  He came around to her side of the bed. “May I sit?”

  She scooted over to make room for him.

  Logan took her hand, lacing their fingers together. “On top of everything else, I’m guessing my reputation might be making you apprehensive.”

  “You mean your reputation as a rake,” she softly replied.

  He nodded. “I know I’ve made some blunders in these last weeks that may have . . . reinforced that impression.”

  He meant his interactions with Jeannie MacArthur, of course. Since she had no intention of even saying that woman’s name, she simply nodded.

  “What people say about me might have been true long ago,” he said. “But remember I’m now a widower who loved his wife and grieved for a long time after her death. I would never wish to dishonor her memory or act in any way that would embarrass my son or family. My stupid, selfish behavior is in the past, Donella. I promise you that.”

  Her heart ached for him and all the sorrows he’d suffered. And for how hard he’d tried to make up for his youthful mistakes.

  “Anyone who knows you understands that you’re a good man.” She squeezed his hand. “And I also know how much you loved your wife. And how much you miss her.”

  It seemed rather selfish of her, but Donella could only hope he would love her as much someday.

  “I did miss her, for a very long time,” he quietly replied. “But then I met you.”

  She saw the stark honesty in his gaze, and the breath caught in her throat. “I’m glad, because I want you to be happy.”

  “I’m happy when I’m with you,” he gruffly replied. “But, like you, I’m dealing with a new feeling. Hence, my inclination toward a wee bit of hysterics, myself.”

  Donella choked out a laugh. “I have some smelling salts in my dressing table. Do you want me to fetch them?”

  “I do feel a swoon coming on. But if I lie down for a bit, I will surely recover myself.”

  “That is a very transparent excuse for getting into my bed, sir,” she severely replied.

  “Is it working?”

  “Better than you know.”

  He chuckled before starting to yank off his boots.

  Donella settled back and watched him. “This reminds me of that night in the inn, when I was in bed and you were getting undressed. I was mortified by the entire situation.”

  “There were occasional comical elements, though. I recall a great deal of talk about chamber pots.”

  She groaned. “Please, I’ve been trying to forget.”

  He dropped the first boot to the floor. “And there was Hamish, who thought you needed a wee paddle to get you in line.”

  “You were a great deal too amused by that suggestion, sir.”

  He wrestled with his other boot but finally got it off, then stood to unbutton his vest. “You responded by threatening to murder me if I came near you.”

  She scrunched up her nose. “I suppose I did overreact a bit.”

  “I was a brute to tease you, but you made an utterly adorable urchin. It was a wonder I was able to keep my hands to myself.”

  “I believe you didn’t keep them to yourself the following night.”

  He tossed his vest on top of his coat. “You can hardly blame me, since I was asleep at the time. Until I was rudely awakened from that very pleasant slumber.”

  “I was afraid Alasdair was going to murder you.”

  “And I was afraid you were going to murder him.”

  She let out a reluctant chuckle. “He can be very irritating, but I shouldn’t complain. My family has always been protective of me.”

  “And rightly so, but now it’s my job to protect you.”

  When he began to unbutton the fall of his breeches, Donella’s heart stuttered.

  “I’m quite good at protecting myself,” she said as pertly as she could manage, trying to compensate for her nervous reaction.

  Logan’s breeches followed his other clothes onto the chair. Thankfully, he wore linen smalls and his shirt hung down to his thighs, sparing her blushes for the moment.

  When he snuffed the candles on her bedside table, shadows drenched the room. Outlined by the uneven light of the flickering fire, he was a large, masculine presence looming over her.

  “I’ve never met a braver woman,” he said in a husky tone. “It’s a miracle I didn’t carry you off myself, when I had the chance.”

  Donella took his hand and held it to her cheek. “At the time, part of me wished you had.”

  “I’ve got ye now, lass, and I’ll nae be lettin’ ye go.”

  His low, rough brogue made her shiver. Donella had to resist the impulse to pull him down to the bed and kiss him with a mad passion. She’d never felt like this in her life, and it was both wonderful and terrifying. Life without Logan now seemed utterly inconceivable, and that made her vulnerable in ways she was only starting to realize.

  “I’m happy to hear that,” she managed.

  Logan braced his hands on either side of her, his face inches from hers. “Almost from the moment I met you, I wanted you, Donella.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “But I was quite awful to you.”

  “That was part of your charm. And it did take me a wee bit of time to recognize what was happening between us. After all, you were going to hike off to another convent. That would have been a rather formidable obstacle to romance.”

  “You rather frightened me at the time,” she confessed. “You made me feel things. I thought I needed to keep you at a distance.”

  “It worked,” he wryly replied.

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize, love.”

  He kissed her—a slow, lingering seduction she felt down to her very bones. She clutched at his shoulders, whimpering with pleasure.

  By the time he finished demolishing her self-control, Donella was almost flat on her back, and she’d pulled him halfway on top of her.

  Logan kissed the tip of her nose. “Do you think I might get in bed with you now?”

  She let out a sheepish laugh. “I think you’d better. And you can take off your shirt, if you like,” she added shyly as she moved to give him room.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I’m ready to take off my wrapper, too. I’m feeling quite warm.”

  “It is rather toasty, now that the fire’s going.”

  She innocently widened her eyes. “Is that what it is?”

  He grinned, then pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it in the general direction of the chair.

  Goodness.

  After wriggling out of her wrapper, she paused to stare at him. His shoulders were massive, and his chest, covered in dark hair, was nothing short of magnificent. The brawny muscles tapered down to a flat stomach and narrow hips, exposed at the tops of his smalls.

  As for what lay beneath those smalls, well, that simply made her mouth as dry as a desert.

  He glanced down and winced. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

  She swallowed. “It looks quite big to me.”

  “And if you keep looking at me like that, it’s going to get even bigger,” he replied in a gruff tone.

  His absurd response made her laugh. “Then you’d best get in bed immediately.”

  Logan slipped under the covers and settled her on his chest. Donella sighed and snuggled close, enjoying the tickle of crisp hair under her cheek. Everything about him was so intensely masculine and so different from anything she’d ever wanted from her life.

  “All right, lass?”

  “A bit anxious, perhaps.” Not simply becau
se of him and what they would do together this night, but also because—

  Don’t think about it.

  He gently massaged her shoulder. “No need to rush. We can talk, if you like.”

  “About what?”

  “My family, for one thing. You’ve made them very happy, especially Joseph.” When he chuckled, his pleasure vibrated through her body. “I thought the wee lad would burst. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so excited.”

  She briefly turned her face into his chest, smiling at the memory.

  After the momentous discussion in the library this afternoon, Logan had whisked her from the house without giving her the chance to see anyone. Their drive had been intended to give her a chance to settle her nerves. In that respect, it had been something of a failure.

  When they finally returned to Breadie Manor, their families had rushed out of the house, offering up congratulations and hugs. The men thumped Logan on the back and jested about stealing Donella away like a Highland brigand.

  Joseph had initially hung back under the portico, obviously overcome by all the fuss. Only when Donella turned to him, too nervous to do anything but give him a hopeful smile, had he reacted. The lad had then raced across the drive and thrown his arms around her waist, hugging her fiercely. When Logan joined them, bending down to talk to his son, Joseph had flung his arms around his father’s neck and promptly burst into tears.

  Donella had shed more than a few tears herself, as had Victoria and even Angus. Eden, however, had come to their rescue, herding them inside for a splendid Boxing Day luncheon. Glasses had been raised and toasts exchanged, each more extravagant and ridiculous than the next. Joseph had spent most of the meal on his father’s lap, alternately beaming at Donella and stuffing his face with cakes.

  Seeing the boy so happy had been one of the best moments of her life.

  She rested her chin on Logan’s chest so she could study his face. “And what about you, sir? Are you happy?”

  “Very, although there’s one thing that would make me even happier.”

  “Which is?”

  “The chance to kiss you.”

  He rolled her onto her back. With one arm cradled beneath her neck, he softly brushed his lips over hers. “In fact, I’d like to kiss you from top to bottom, ending with your wee toes.”

  She crinkled her forehead. “Why would you want to kiss my toes?”

  “I’ve seen them, remember? They’re quite delightful.” Donella couldn’t help but laugh as she slid her hands to his shoulders. “That sounds exceedingly interesting, but won’t my nightrail get in the way?”

  His gaze all but scorched her. “Perhaps you’re ready to remove it now?”

  She began to think she’d been getting ready for Logan for a long time. Ready to be with a man who wanted her as much as she wanted him. “I believe so.”

  His eyes glittered like gems. Then he took her lips in a soul-searing kiss she would never forget.

  As his mouth caressed her, searching and passionate, his hands began to wander. He shifted to his side, still cradling her but free to explore while melting her with his devastating kisses. She closed her eyes and retreated into the warm, velvet darkness. All that existed was his touch and the feelings it evoked.

  His hand skimmed lower, lingering to stroke and tease her nipples into tight points. When Donella moaned, he sucked her tongue into his mouth, drawing deep. Sensation stormed through her, and that most intimate part of her ached for the claiming that would make her forever and only his.

  His skillful hands moved lower, stroking over her belly to briefly rest between her legs. When he rubbed her through the linen fabric covering that hidden place, her thoughts scattered like fog in a howling wind. His hands, his touch, his strong body arching over hers—it was all she needed in the moment—and then another moment, and then another, stretching into a lifetime of wonderful moments with him.

  “Open your eyes, darling.” His voice was a husky rumble.

  It was too lovely in the dark, with just his hands and her body. “Don’t want to.”

  He licked her lower lip before giving it a wee nip.

  Donella’s eyelids snapped open. “Ouch.”

  “That did not hurt.”

  “Maybe a little,” she grumbled.

  “Not even a little.”

  He was right. In fact, it had been rather . . . stimulating.

  “My eyes are open,” she said. “Now what?”

  “Are you truly ready to take off your clothing?” His smile was lopsided and teasing. “You certainly feel ready.”

  Her throat went tight. He was always so careful to put her first, even as she felt the rampant press of his desire nudging against her leg. His own need had turned every muscle in his body as hard as stone, and yet he still waited patiently on her.

  With Logan, Donella never felt stupid or lacking. She felt cherished, as if her every need was as important to him as it was to her.

  She smiled up at him, love making her brave. “I’m ready for everything.”

  He blew out a sharp breath. “Thank God, because you are absolutely killing me, lass.”

  As he helped her wriggle her nightrail upward, he followed its path with a trail of leisurely kisses.

  “What are you doing?” she asked when he lingered over her hipbone.

  “I’m kissing your freckles,” he murmured.

  She choked out a laugh. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “I love your freckles. It’s like a celestial baker sprinkled you with cinnamon.”

  “Since I have a lot of them, this could take all night.”

  He glanced up with a grin that was all male and all him. “And is that a bad thing?”

  She blinked. The notion of being the object of Logan’s amorous attentions for an entire night sounded . . . wonderful.

  “Carry on, sir.”

  His soft chuckle vibrated against her skin.

  He slowly made his way upward, kissing and licking as he drew the gown up to her shoulders. When he reached her breasts, he stayed for long minutes, gently sucking on her until her nipples were a bright pink, stiff and aching against his tongue.

  Then he did something especially wicked with that tongue, and she moaned and arched her back, grabbing fistfuls of his hair.

  Logan raised his head, his eyes gleaming with laughter. “You’ll make me bald, love.”

  “Sorry.” She gasped for breath. “But if you keep that up, I might not make it through the rest of the night.” Donella was beginning to wonder if one could actually die from ecstasy.

  “That would indeed be a shocking turn of events.”

  He eased the garment over her head, and finally she lay naked before him, the bed linens bunched low around her hips. For long, intent moments, Logan studied her body.

  Anxiety threaded its tendrils through her sensual daze. “Is everything all right?”

  His blue eyes appeared dark as pitch in the dim, flickering firelight. “More right than I can explain, lass.”

  Logan swooped down and took her lips, his kiss so ravenous it made her dizzy. He pleasured her mouth the way he’d pleasured her body only moments ago. She clung to him, kissing him back with an abandon she’d never thought possible. He’d opened a gate within, and all the love, all the longing for something more that she’d repressed for so long came spilling out.

  When he pulled back, she blinked open her eyelids, trying to focus through the haze of emotion and sensuality. Like her, he was breathing hard, and a faint sheen of perspiration glistened like polished bronze on his skin.

  “I am going to kiss ye from head to toe, lassie,” he rumbled. “So if ye have any objections, now’s the time to say it.”

  She had to clear her throat before answering with an imitation of his brogue. “Nae, I canna think of a one.”

  His almost feral grin suggested he might eat her right up. And as he made a sensual tour of her body, he rather did. Logan feasted on her, his lips, tongue, and even his teeth driving he
r into a quiet frenzy.

  When he reached that delicate place between her thighs, he slowed even more, his mouth nudging through the silky nest of hair while his fingers gently opened her. Donella slapped a hand over her lips to muffle a cry, arching up as an astounding, delicious sensation rippled out from her womb.

  “Och, that’s my beauty,” he growled.

  When he started to shift down, she grabbed his shoulders. He glanced up and their gazes locked.

  “Now, please,” she whispered.

  “Sure, lass?” he whispered back.

  “Entirely sure.”

  His eyes warmed with tenderness, and he kissed the tops of her thighs before gently spreading her legs wide. Then he moved between them, covering her with his body. He was huge and muscled and somewhat intimidating—but he was hers, and she was about to become his.

  She couldn’t wait.

  Logan took his time, sliding the broad head of his erection back and forth against her delicate sex. All the while, he lavished her mouth with languid kisses. Donella wrapped herself around him, tilting her hips to increase the luxurious pressure.

  It was so different from that first and only time, a foolish and awkward encounter in a musty old barn. She’d wanted to tell Logan about it, to confess the secret that had weighed on her for years. Her pent-up anger and defiance, and the feeling that she’d never be worthy of love, had fueled that long-ago night.

  But he was proving her wrong. Held in his loving embrace, her shameful secret now belonged to a distant past that no longer even seemed real. This was real, what she had with Logan. He made her feel different, as if what they shared was a sacred act.

  Let the past stay in the past, where it can do no more harm.

  He drew back so he could see her face. “Ready, love?”

  The growl made every muscle in her body tremble in response. Donella drew her legs up and wrapped them around his backside, opening herself to him even more. Logan’s eyes flared with surprise, then burned with a scorching heat.

  She gave him a misty smile, too emotional to speak.

  He groaned as he slid into her. His big body shook in her arms as he tried to enter slowly, holding himself in check.

  And he was big, and it had been years. Donella forced herself to relax against the insistent pressure.

 

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