My Notorious Highlander (Highland Adventure 5) (12 page)

Jessie perched on one of the boulders and gazed out to sea. Was she daydreaming? He hoped she was thinking of him.

Moments later, she got to her feet and walked further along the shore, her gaze searching the tops of the cliffs and sand bank. He ducked. Had she seen him or sensed his presence? He kept his head down and hoped she didn't notice his plaid.

She hastened to the far end of the strip of sand, which was more concealed behind the large rocks. Though she disappeared from sight, he hesitated to crawl closer to the edge for fear she might spot him.

She appeared again, wearing only her white smock. Hiking it to her knees, she ran into the water.

"Saints," he hissed. She was going swimming? He chuckled, but forced himself to be quiet. Not that she could hear him over the waves crashing into the boulders below. What an adventurous spirit she had. It only made him fall harder for her.

How lovely she looked, her fiery red hair streaming down her back as she waded deeper into the water reflecting the blue sky. She disappeared behind a black boulder.

A swim would be perfect right now. While she was hidden from view, he took the opportunity to slip down the bank along the narrow trail she had used earlier. He hastily removed all his clothing and left it on the dry sand behind a rock, then crept between the boulders. The sun-warmed, wet sand felt good against his bare feet. Then the edges of the cold surf washed over his toes. He often took swims in Loch
Assynt
, so he was accustomed to cold water. It appeared Jessie was, too.

He waded into the water and peered around the last boulder. When her back was turned, he slid beneath the water and swam underneath a wave. When he emerged twenty feet out, she happened to be facing him. Her eyes wide, she screamed and swam toward the shore.

"Jessie!
'Tis
only me," he called.

But she didn't listen; she kept moving quickly toward the beach. Once the water was shallow enough, she ran, probably difficult wearing that smock. She tugged its hampering weight from around her ankles and quickened her steps. He wished she would remove the blasted garment.

He followed her, splashing through the shallow surf.

"Let's go back in," he called over the roar of the waves.

She stopped and turned to face him, her wide-eyed gaze dropping to his groin. She sucked in a sharp breath and covered her eyes. "Put on some clothes, MacLeod!"

Halting ten feet away, he grinned and crossed his arms over his chest. "'
Twould
be much better if you'd simply remove yours." Although he did appreciate this view. Her wet smock had become more transparent, and her hard, rose-colored nipples showed through the material. But he wasn't going to tell her that. Sexual heat rushed over him despite the cool breeze blowing over his bare, wet skin.

"Are you mad?" She faced the other direction, grabbed her
arisaid
from the stone and attempted to belt the plaid about her waist.

"I think you are the one who is mad, wearing a drenched smock beneath your other dry clothing. Makes no sense. You should remove it all and lay it on the rocks to dry."

"You followed me!" she accused, refusing to look at him.

"Aye. I had to protect you, after all. MacBain could return." Although he doubted the bastard could return this soon.
Torrin's
two men and the
MacKays
who had escorted the
MacBains
south had not returned yet.

"I need no protection."

He shook his head at her stubbornness. "You didn't mind that I came to your rescue last time."

"Leave me be." Carrying her shoes and three sheathed knives, she strode away from him along the beach, dodging the massive black boulders which protruded from the sand, but he followed. She glanced back, catching his eye, then started running. Abruptly, she tumbled onto the ground with a short shriek.

"Saints! Are you hurt?" He knelt by her, one knee drawn up to conceal his
tarse
, so she would at least face him.

She turned to her back and leaned up on her elbows. "My foot! I stepped on something sharp."

"
Och
. Let me see." He lifted one of her bare, sand-covered feet.
'Twas
a long, slim and elegant foot, much like the rest of her body.

She sat up, glaring at him. "The other one."

"Ah." He examined her other foot but saw no sign of blood. "Where does it hurt?"

"My heel."

"I see no injury to it. I think you'll live."

She narrowed her eyes, her gaze skittering over his naked chest, then looked skyward. "Where are your clothes?"

"Over there somewhere, but it's much nicer without them today. You should try it. The sun is warm. How often have you gone naked outside?"

"Never." She lowered her voice. "Well, except when I swim sometimes."

"Indeed? You swim naked?"

Her blush deepened. "A couple of times."

"I'm shocked, m'lady," he teased with a smile. Saints, how he loved the image in his head of her swimming naked like a goddess of the sea. "You are a wild and brave lass, are you not?"

She shrugged. "Some would say
wayward
."

"I like a wayward lady."

At the moment, the way he knelt, his leg hid his shaft, but the problem was it was rapidly rising to its full height. She made him hard so quickly, so easily, every time he was in her presence.

"Don't give me that look, MacLeod," she said firmly.

"What look?"

She pointed at his eyes. "That one."

Could she see the raw need and desire written upon his face? He hoped so. She'd driven him mad for the past several days. "I can't help it," he said in a low tone. "I hunger for you."

Jessie swallowed hard as she held
Torrin's
dark, passionate gaze. In the bright sunlight, his lashes halfway hid his deep green eyes, but 'twas clear they reflected profound sensuality. His sculpted muscles were lean and elegant. He appeared iron-strong but not too bulky.

She had seen his shaft moments ago, just for a trice, when he'd emerged from the water, before she'd slammed her eyes closed. She could not see that part of his anatomy now, unless she moved closer to him. Which she was definitely not going to do. What gall he had to gallivant naked in front of her.

At the moment, his eyes bewitched her and she did not want to look away. Besides, his body aroused her. She glanced down at his chest and the defined muscles there. The rippled ridges of his abdomen intrigued her. She had only seen glimpses of naked men or lads before, some, like MacBain, in half darkness. But observing Torrin now, in the daylight, so close… he was a divine work of art. She found herself wishing she could touch him, run her fingers over those muscles and see how hard they were.

He was like a god of the sea who had just emerged from the depths. His dark, wet hair brushed his broad shoulders.

His eyes turning predatory, he slowly moved closer, crawled along beside her and captured her mouth. Giving up the fight with herself, she lay back on the warm sand and slid her hands around his neck into his cool wet hair. He tasted salty, like the sea, and his tongue delved boldly into her mouth. Her body quickened as if awakening from a long sleep to feel the bright sunlight burning into her… and Torrin burning into her.

Aligning his body with hers, he slid his hand around her derriere and dragged her tight against him. Oh, saints! He was hard. She knew what this was all about; she'd lain several times with MacBain during their trial marriage, but never had she been ravenous for him as she now was for Torrin.

One of his bare legs slid between hers and he lay half on top of her. His mouth and body felt divine on hers as if something about the two of them was perfectly harmonized.

His kisses were seduction itself. Not too forceful, but still highly confident, his tongue flicking against hers, teasing her. He knew what he was doing, and he was so good at it.

Before she knew it, her belt was unclasped and her
arisaid
loose beneath her like a blanket upon the sand. His thumb grazed lightly over her nipple through the wet smock. She stifled a moan at the flash of white-hot pleasure that blasted through her. With every kiss, she wanted another, deeper kiss. She wanted him to devour her, consume her, and burn her up with his passion.

His erection felt large against her lower belly. Before she realized what she was doing, she brushed her hand down the hard, rippled muscles of his abdomen, and clasped his hot, rigid flesh. She gasped… and he growled. With a dark, feral look in his eyes, he broke the kiss and pulled back an inch. He clenched his teeth and waited, daring her, challenging her with his midnight gaze.

But she didn't remove her hand. She stroked down his stone-hard shaft, savoring the sleek feel of his skin.

In a flash, he was fully over her, yanking her smock upwards. Abruptly, he halted, breathing hard, his forehead against her. "Damnation, Jessie," he growled. "Is this what you want?"

Her heart pounded against her throat so hard she couldn't speak.

"Tell me what you want." He lifted his head and scrutinized her face.

"Aye," she whispered, almost ashamed of her weakness. She was never weak. She always spoke her mind and did it with firm conviction.

"Aye, what?" he demanded.

"I want…" She searched his eyes. Could she trust him? Though she was unsure of most everything else, she knew without doubt that she wanted him in a most carnal and physical way.

He muttered a curse. "You're driving me mad," he warned. "Tell me before I die of wanting you."

"You. I want you, too," she said, her voice and hands shaking. Her body's need for him overrode all else.
'Twas
all she could think of.

He closed his eyes and released a short breath. When his eyes met hers again, something about his expression had softened, but also intensified. "Are you certain?"

She had never seen such passion in anyone's eyes before. So much, she was lost for a moment. "Aye."

"You want me to take you, right here, on the sand?"

She suddenly remembered they were outside in broad daylight. Glancing around, she noticed they lay between two giant boulders, which shielded them from most of the cliffs and high banks surrounding the bay.

"Aye." And she wished he'd be quick about it. With every moment that passed, something inside her ached ever more strongly. With each beat of her heart, need drummed more fiercely inside her.

He sucked in a deep breath and slowly pushed her smock up her thighs, then sat back on his heels. Glancing down, she couldn't believe how his impressive shaft stood proud and upright. Aye, she wanted him. And she knew with certainty she'd never wanted MacBain in such a powerful way.

Torrin hissed a curse; he was observing her most private parts just as she was his. Her first instinct was to close her legs, but she couldn't. He was sitting between them. But more importantly, she wasn't afraid of him, nor ashamed.

He moved over her again, his elbow on the ground by her head. He gave her a fiercely erotic kiss while the tip of his shaft brushed against her most intimate spot.

"Aye," she whispered, widening her legs. He moaned, nudging against her, into her. She drew in a breath and held it.

"Breathe, Jessie," he whispered.

"I am." Her voice was uneven.

"Look into my eyes."

She did, unable to believe the depth of emotion she saw there.