Page 51 of A Temptress in Tartan

Her body jerked and a sharp pain tore through her on a gasp, but as quickly as it came, the pain vanished, replaced by a feeling of fullness and heat. Then, guided by instinct and a heart that was overflowing, she wound her legs about his hips, drawing him deeper.

Her hands clutched at his shoulders as she thrust upward, taking as much of him as he offered her. With a low cry of wild satisfaction, she matched his rhythm, delighting as he stroked her hard and fast, slow and gentle. As soon as she grew accustomed to one rhythm, he changed it, until the tension inside her coiled tighter and tighter. His thrusts grew deeper and faster. She hovered on the brink until the tension exploded with a force that sent a fiery release through every muscle in her body.

An instant later, she could feel Lachlan spasm again and again, to shatter within her in a glorious release.

Spent, he slumped on her. She could feel his heart racing, pounding against her chest; feel the tempo of his heart echo where they were still joined.

She drew a slow, shallow breath of satisfaction, then raised a hand to his hair and, tentatively, caressed. They were married in every sense of the word now. She had truly given this man her allegiance, and she was happier than she’d ever been. He nestled against her as a quiet, tender moment ticked past.

His heartbeat gradually slowed; his breathing eased. Finally, he stirred, withdrew and moved off her only to settle against her side, his hot flesh against her own. His hands refused to release her as he played with her exposed breasts, stroking, circling, teasing as if he was afraid to let the moment end.

Never in her life had Elizabeth experienced anything like that before. She had never dreamed such satisfaction or satiation were possible as a heavy languid sensation pulsed through her blood. The physical vortex they had created had been wild, mind-bending, sense-shattering. Had she known such sensations existed, she might have been tempted to make love with him long before now.

“Will it always be like that between us?” she asked when her breathing returned to normal as she studied Lachlan’s profile.

“Nay,” he said. “It will only get better every single time.” His lips quirked, and she recognized that smile for what it was—smug, male satisfaction.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked, unable to help herself as she realized she wanted him all over again.

He turned toward her and slid his hand to her cheek, cupping it gently. “That you are every bit as fiery and passionate in your lovemaking as you are in your everyday life.”

At his broad smile, she turned her face into his hand, kissing his palm, slowly, allowing him to feel her passion.

A groan tore from his chest. He twisted onto his side and trailed his hand from her cheek, down her abdomen, until his fingers settled playfully in the curls protecting her womanhood.

“If you don’t stop that, I might need to feel your passion once more,” Lachlan teased.

She arched her brow. “I have no plans for the rest of the evening. Do you?”

He gave her a devastating smile and delved his fingers into her wet heat. She could feel herself readying for him again. “Shall I indulge that passionate nature of yours once more?”

Without saying another word, Elizabeth kissed him.

*

The next morning Elizabeth slowly came awake and instantly knew her life was forever altered. She and Lachlan were still curled together on the small bed. Her head rested in the curve of his shoulder, and one of her legs was lying carelessly across his, whether to keep him beside her or to offer comfort during the night she was not certain. She raised her head tentatively, but he did not stir except to release a deep, untroubled breath.

If only that were true.

Today his trial would begin. But until the bailiff came for him, Lachlan and these precious, stolen moments were all for her. Looking upon him now, she noted the changes that had taken place since last night. Gone were the lines of worry that bracketed his eyes and mouth, as was the rigid set of his jaw. He looked relaxed and so at peace even though he still remained in a prison cell of sorts. The thick, blond crescents of his lashes looked like wings upon his cheeks, and his hair was swept back from his forehead, and looked like spun gold against the whiteness of the sheets.

He was completely naked, as was she. And despite their previous night’s passion, when she had thought there could be no further revelations or mysteries about his body, she discovered she was wrong. In the soft morning light, she saw him clearly in all his sheer, masculine splendor. He was perfection itself in form, but there was also evidence beyond what the pricker had inflicted upon him of past wounds. Dozens of scars, both fine and wide, threaded their way across his flesh as evidence of the many battles he had fought over the years. The pricker marks would all but vanish once they healed fully, but the stripes on his back would leave a remembrance of all he had suffered.

Elizabeth’s heart swelled with both sympathy and sorrow for what he’d had to endure, and she could not stop herself from placing a tender salute upon one of the scars on his chest. As she did, another unfamiliar sensation filled her chest, replacing her sorrow with a warm tenderness.

She had thought she had loved Roland Carswell at one time in her life, but she’d been wrong. What she had experienced with him was nothing in comparison to the strange emotions that filled her when she was in Lachlan’s arms. Her heart had never beat wildly out of control at the sight of him, her skin had never prickled at the sound of his voice, her body had never seemed to melt from within at his touch. All these things happened whenever Lachlan drew near, even from the first moment their eyes had met on the ledge where she had almost taken her own life.

She might not have wanted to put a name to the sensations inside her all those many days ago, but she knew now it was love. Against all odds, she was in love with Lachlan Douglas. With her heart swelling with deeper emotion than she’d ever felt before, she bent down and placed a kiss on his lips.

“Elizabeth?” His voice was slurred, but his eyes opened and fixed on her.

She meant to disentangle herself from him and rise to dress, but he tightened his arms around her and pulled her against him, refusing to let her go. “I could wake with a kiss from you every morning for the rest of my life and die a happy man.” The moment he said the words, the stress that had vanished from his face returned. “I just pray that my life is longer than the next few days.”

At the reminder of what still lay ahead of them, tears came to her eyes. “So many people are working on your behalf to secure your freedom. You must not lose hope. We must believe that, even with the challenges ahead, we will have a long and wonderful life together because I love you. I want to spend the rest of my days at your side as your wife, your lover, and the mother of your children. I want to grow old together and to finally put this wretched feud between our families to rest, for good.”

His eyes widened as she spoke and the worry lines vanished once again. He brought his fingers up to tenderly stroke the side of her jaw. “Elizabeth, I—”

A knock sounded upon the door and the portal flew open before he could speak or they could cover themselves. King James strode into the chamber. At first, he startled at the sight that greeted him before he slowly smiled. “I am glad to see you took my command to heart, Lady March.” He stared at them for a moment as Elizabeth clutched for the sheets to cover herself before turning away. “I have come to show my support for you, Lord March, by escorting you to your tribunal myself.”