Highland Song (7 page)

"You can’t," she whispered weakly.

"Just watch me."

Chapter Three

"I don't negotiate with English soldiers," Lainie told him, knowing full well she was about to do just that.

Lainie looked into hard green eyes so close to her own, and realized she never should have taken the bait he’d offered her. She should have never stolen the papers from his satchel.

With sudden clarity she realized he'd set her up to fall into his trap.

She had always been good at reading people, but this man had surprised her at every turn. Now she didn’t know if he was bluffing or telling her the truth.

If you can’t afford to lose, she told herself. You’d best take the offer and run.

Her body breaking out in a cold sweat, Lainie lifted her head to give Slade the kiss he had asked for. After a fast pressure of lips against his, she retreated, her heart pounding wildly, shaking from head to toe.

"That’s not a kiss," Slade's voice was smooth and deep.

She closed her eyes then looked back, wondering what he wanted. "Of course it is." Her nerves were shredded into tiny strips. Her heart thundered beneath her ribs, and she wondered how she'd gotten herself into this unholy mess.

And she questioned why she liked kissing this man?

"I should have guessed you would lie with your body the same way you lie about Bertram," he said, his tone an unspoken warning.

"I did what you asked." She felt indignant at his accusation as well as confused by his warning.

"The way a scared virgin kisses her first boy. Well, you’re no virgin and I’m no wide-eyed Scotsman."

"Bu--," she whispered. How could he know she wasn’t a virgin? What he didn’t know was that it wasn’t her fault. Not that she cared if he knew, she told herself. Nor would the knowledge change the way he acted. He was a man, a very dangerous man.

Slade said something beneath his breath she didn’t understand,
then
added in a cutting voice, "Save the wide-eyed innocent act for a boy who might believe it. Men my age know everything worth knowing about women’s tricks, and everything we know, we learned the hard way."

"Then your teachers weren’t very good. I’m not what you think I am."
 
She opened her eyes wide, staring at him as if he were some curiosity.

"Neither am I. My teachers were masters at what they did," he returned dryly. "I haven’t been taken by someone playing at being a teasing virgin since I was innocent myself. That was so long ago I have a hard time remembering."

For a brief moment, Lainie thought about explaining to him, but one look at the cold edge to his features told her he wouldn’t believe anything she said. She could read nothing in the flat line to his mouth or the hardness of his eyes. He believed she was a Scottish whore and thief, pure and simple. She wanted to change those thoughts. He believed she'd sold herself to Bertram for trinkets.

Even worse, she understood why he thought of her in that light. Although she hadn’t planned on stealing the document peeking from beneath his coat, she also could have never let the opportunity pass. If the information contained there saved one Scottish life, her actions were worth every moment of time she had to spend with this man. In the end, Slade had stood up for her, risked his life to save hers, she owed him a debt of gratitude--perhaps more.

But that was all she owed him. A simple thank you should suffice. And with the kiss, she felt the debt was bought and paid for.

It was obvious he wanted something more for the bargain. To save her life, she could not figure out what it was.

It didn’t matter that his survival in that tavern fight was only due to his unusual skill with a dirk. She hadn’t even known who he was, so she could hardly say that she was certain he would be able to fight free of the trap he had fallen into.

The trap she had inadvertently set for him.

Perhaps she did owe him something more than a kiss simply because she had very nearly caused his death. But she didn’t owe him her body. She wouldn’t let him rape her.

"All right then, I'll kiss you again," She said petulantly.

Touching both her hands to the side of his face, she pulled his head down so she could kiss him. She put her lips over Slade’s, and this time she didn’t shy away. Instead, she increased the pressure of the kiss gradually, learning the smooth pliability of his lips in a silence that was eclipsed only by the frantic pounding of her heart.

When Slade made no move to participate in the kiss, Lainie hesitated, wondering what she should do next. Even though Slade didn’t believe her, she had told him the truth about her innocence. Except for her encounter with Bertram, she’d never kissed a man or been so close to one. And her time with Bertram had been far from gentle or pleasant. He had grabbed at her, and she had not been able to fight free. In the end, he had stolen her innocence. If there had been any enjoyment in the experience, it had all been one-sided.

But Slade didn’t act like Bertram, and Lainie had agreed to the kiss. She just didn’t know what he wanted her to do. The newfound knowledge bewildered her almost as much as the realization that kissing Slade affected her in a completely surprising and different way than anything she had ever thought could be possible.

She enjoyed the kiss.

"Slade?"

"Don’t stop. I’ll get an honest reaction from you yet," he murmured, his lips so close to her own she felt his breath whisper across her face.

Shyly, Lainie’s hands crept around Slade’s neck. She was getting tired of holding herself off the ground. Yet she was still afraid to trust him completely. But she finally let him support her. The pressure of her arms around his neck increased.

"Hmmm, that’s better," Slade said in a husky voice. "So you were pretending."

Pretending what, she wondered?

His lips were only a breath away from hers. The warmth of his softly spoken words sweeping across her cheeks sent shivers of sensation over her. For a moment, her breath stopped then came back quick and achingly hard. Arching her body to close the remaining distance between her mouth and Slade’s, Lainie knew pleasure she had never believed existed.

The first caress of his lips was familiar, as was the shimmer of delight that swept through Lainie when their mouths touched. Each time their lips brushed together the intensity of the sensation grew, shortening her breath even more. He was barely holding her and he wasn't forcing her.

"I dinnae ken," Lainie whispered. "What is happening? What are you doing to me?"

Her lips were so close to his that each word was a distinct rush over Slade’s mouth. It was the same when he spoke to her, each word a soft caress.

"We’re kissing. What is it you don’t understand?" he asked.

"I dinna ken that your lips on mine would set me on fire."

Lainie felt a current rush through Slade and she wondered at his response to her words. Suddenly his arms were sliding around her. She tensed, expecting the same to happen now as it had with Bertram.

Slade made no move to force her. All he did was hold her so she could stay close to him. He was so gentle his actions amazed her. Slowly she relaxed, letting the pleasure of the moment sink into her. She didn't want to analyze what was happening here.

"I’m a patient man, but even I have limits. When am I going to get that kiss you promised?" Slade asked dryly a touch of humor in his words and a hint of a smile on his lips.

"I’ve kissed you more than once, I've kissed you twice. What is it you want?" Lainie said indignantly and slightly insulted, wishing she understood what exactly she wasn't doing right.

"And I think you haven’t kissed me at all," his hands running the length of her back, tracing each vertebrae, seducing her.

"Then, tell me, what is it I've been doing?"

"Teasing," he said bluntly. "Enjoyable, but not exactly what I had in mind, and you know it as well as I do."

Problem was
,
she didn’t. "I can’t read minds. I don’t have any idea what you want me to do, and I dinna ken how that was teasing," she spoke back, annoyed that he hadn’t been as disturbed by the lazy, gliding kiss as she had. “I kissed you, don’t tell me I didn’t.”

"I know what you are. You’re a fake and a phony with fast hands who won’t deliver the one thing you promised--a real kiss. You tease a man until he’s tortured to near death then dance away as if you'd given everything a man would want."

Lainie opened her mouth to argue with him but then wondered what a real kiss would be. Then she remembered what he had told her about kissing. He had said he liked a kiss hot and deep. She shuddered as a ripple of pleasure pulsed through her. And she remembered what he’d told her to do with her tongue. He wanted her to put it deep inside his mouth. Just thinking about it sent a surge of heat through her.

“Is this what you want then?”

Before Lainie could think about it and change her mind, she brought her lips against Slade’s open mouth and touched his tongue with her own. The strange sensations she felt fascinated her. Curiously, she traced the tip of her tongue over his once more, exploring the shape and texture of his mouth, enjoying every moment. And she learned how smooth and soft the underside of his tongue was.

She was completely absorbed in her explorations, fascinated by the taste and texture of the man she kissed. Slade’s arms tightened around her, but she didn’t care. Her breath quickened. She realized his breath had quickened too. She knew he was seducing her more thoroughly as each second passed and with each erratic beat of her heart. And she knew that Slade’s taste and warmth were more intoxicating than French brandy.