Margaret stepped forward,putting her small hands on his forearms and pushing with all her might. Ryan played into it for a moment, allowing her to guide him back a few paces. Then he stopped, chuckling when she intensified her efforts.
“Get out!”she cried, shifting her touch from his forearms to his bare chest in what he guessed was an attempt to gain some sort of leverage.
Perhaps that would bea good strategy if ye were stronger than me, lassie.
Her palms weresoft as silk against him. The warmth was welcome, and the sensation went straight between his legs. She seemed to have no idea what she was doing to him, and that made the whole interaction even more titillating. He pressed against her, forcing her to take another step away.
“You…it’s like trying to move a rock!” Margaret grumbled, shoving again but getting nowhere. Her short nails dug into his flesh. The pinpricks traveled straight to his groin. “Out, Ryan!”
Ryan stareddown where they were touching, shifting slightly to hide the arousal that was threatening to make itself known. His kilt would do nothing to conceal exactly what her touch was doing to him. A wild part of him wanted her to know though he doubted she’d react well.
It was thenthat she seemed to realize what she’d been touching. Quickly, she dropped her hands and looked away, her face flushing as though she were embarrassed. She didn’t need to be; he didn’t mind getting a taste of her fighting spirit.
“Ye’re bold, lass,”Ryan said, catching her wrists before she could fist her fingers in her nightgown. It was getting to be quite an annoying habit of hers. “Gettin’ bolder day by day, aye?”
“No!”she exclaimed, trying to get away and failing. He was so much stronger than she was. She was realizing that just now, it seemed, though he doubted she’d stop trying to overpower him. “That’s not?—”
“Ach,lass. Ye can touch me for as long as ye like,” he teased, smirking as her blushing and stuttering grew in ferocity and frequency. She was a mess, and it was all Ryan’s doing. “I like it when a bonnie lass like ye touches me like this.”
If I can wreckher with words, I wonder how intensely she’d unravel with me touch.
“That’s… I wasn’t…”she sputtered, finally wrenching her arms away from Ryan’s grasp. It wasn’t by virtue of her own strength, though. He’d allowed it. “I just wanted to make you leave, so I could change. That was all.”
She turnedher body away from him, red all the way below the neckline of her chemise. Ryan admired the way she wore the color and decided that he would do whatever he could to continue seeing this sight. For now, though, he knew he needed to stop so he could ensure this bonnie thing was presented as the proper Lady of Clan McGhee.
She can only be unraveledaround me. Everyone else will get the polished version.
“All right,”he said, backing away from her, a hand raised as though he were shushing a spooked horse. It was as close to a truce as he was willing to give. This wasn’t over though. “I’ll leave ye to get ready.”
“Thank you,”she said, clearing her throat and standing up a little straighter. “I’ll be out shortly.”
Ryan nodded,taking in her form one last time. Then, he turned toward the door. His footsteps were loud in the heated silence that had settled between them. When he grabbed hold of the handle, he glanced back at her.
“Daenae worry,Margaret. I ken ye liked touchin’ me,” he said, unable to keep himself from getting one last blow in. “Ye daenae have to lie.”
The soundof her stuttered protests followed him out of the room. It was better than any song he’d ever heard.
7
“Mad Highlander,” Margaret said to herself as soon as she was alone. Her empty room didn’t respond.
She tookeverything in as she tried to calm herself. All the furniture was nicer than what she had in her room back home though she supposed that this was her home now.
Slidingher finger along the wooden bedframe, she wondered what kind of tree had sacrificed itself to make this piece. There were intricate vine patterns carved along the top. It was beautiful, and she found it hard to believe that it belonged to her.
Stepping away,she glanced at the rest of the room, her eyes catching on the window that overlooked the garden. A light breeze drifted in, and Margaret closed her eyes. She inhaled the crisp air before looking at her gown.
Her face still burned,but she felt as though she were regaining control of her senses. They came back slowly, though, as if Ryanhad gummed up her brain. The biggest piece of evidence to support this theory was the fact that she missed his presence.
The wayshe felt about him was dangerous. And the fact that he seemed to enjoy teasing her was even more so. Things could get out of control quickly.
Oh,what have I gotten myself into? This wasn’t supposed to happen.
She changedas fast as she could, afraid that the Laird right outside her door might burst in at any moment. She didn’t put it past him. While he might have been joking around with her, she knew there was probably a bit of true desire in his refusal to leave her room.
Once she was decent,she slipped into her shoes. They were a little worn from her travels, and she thought that she should have them brought to a cobbler. She’d need a second pair, too, something more elegant for balls and special occasions.
She walkedover to the vanity and dropped onto the cushion to ensure that she hadn’t mussed up her hair while she was getting changed. Her face stared back at her, and she could still see the ghost of her blush from Ryan’s proximity.