Page 27 of To Claim His Highland Bride

His fingers tingled as if they had been frozen and were now being painfully brought back to life. The thick, silky strands flowed through his fingers like warm honey. He wondered how the silkiness would feel against his naked chest.

He drew a slow deep breath, which did nothing to clear his thoughts. Instead, the tingling spread from his fingers to his wrists and arms. His loins ached; the muscles of his belly knotted. He shouldn’t have touched her. The thought that he should pull back flashed through his mind. But instead of shifting away, he leaned down and his lips covered hers.

To his surprise, she did not struggle, but opened her lips, inviting him beyond, to taste, to sample, to plunder to his heart’s content. His hands framed her face as he stepped closer, pressing his hardness against her melting softness.

Their lips melded, their tongues twined, sliding sensuously together as they once had. The kiss was as heady as any they’d ever shared. His compulsion to feed his hunger flared like a fever, growing more intense with every beat of his heart.

His fingers left her face to trail across her shoulders. One hand encircled her, pulling her more tightly against him, while the other traced the line of her hip. Rowena’s hands in turn came up to his shoulders with one moving on to sink deep into the thickness of his hair.

Quivering excitement held him enthralled as every inch of his skin, every nerve thrummed with desire. Their kiss changed from hungry to ravenous. His senses leapt as he shifted his hand to her breast. Forcing the necklace aside, his fingers stroked, gently kneading. Beneath his touch, her breast swelled; her nipple tightened to a firm bud; and Rowena gasped and broke the kiss.

Through a haze of passion, Marcus stepped back. If he did not cease this madness right now, there would be no going back for him. He battled to block his desire even as need flared.

Rowena’s breathing was as harsh as his own. Her eyes glazed with passion as he stared down at her rosy cheeks and swollen lips. A stubborn thought refused to abate: She is my wife. He should have the freedom to enjoy her at any opportunity that presented itself. He shot her a resigned glance. They both knew he could not. His future would take him in a direction that did not include her. “I did not mean to get so carried away,” Marcus said, his voice deepened by desire and gravelly with frustration.

Drawing breath after breath until the rise and fall of her chest slowed to a normal rhythm, she met his gaze and held it. “I am as much at fault as you are. It will not happen again.”

“I—”

“Captain, I am sorry to interrupt.” A dark-haired crewman stepped through the open doorway of the treasury room.

“What do you need, Gordon?” Marcus asked, keeping his irritation in check. He hadn’t said all he’d needed to say to Rowena.

Gordon shifted nervously on the balls of his feet. “Mr MacFarlane asked me to come get you. He said it is urgent.”

Eck wouldn’t have interrupted unless it truly was important. “Tell him I will be right there.”

With a nod, Gordon left as silently as he had come. Marcus wondered for a moment how much of the exchange the young man had witnessed between himself and Rowena, even though it mattered little to the crew. As far as they knew, he was a newly married man who deserved a stolen moment here and there with his bride. “We will continue this conversation later,” he said to Rowena, and with a frown, he headed towards a cabinet on the side of the chamber to unfold the hidden desktop. “You’ll find paper, ink, and several quills in here. Help yourself to whatever you need.”

He held her gaze for a moment more, until—jaw clenched—he turned and headed above deck, fighting the urge to go back and pull her into his arms once more.

Chapter Eleven

Marcus emerged from below and headed towards the main deck. He was grateful for the whipping wind that soothed his overheated body and calmed his jumbled brain. The routine of life at sea had ever been a balm to his nerves, even during the hardships that had befallen the crew.

At his approach, Eck looked up from his inspection of the damaged sail. “I found something I wanted you to see before the men started their repairs.” He pointed to a section of the rope at the bottom of the sail.

Marcus knelt on the deck of the ship and ran his hands over the sailcloth that had nearly knocked Rowena overboard. Something about the way it had pulled away from the rigging did not sit right with him. Though the storm they had just experienced this morning had been rough, he and Eck had known much worse. True, it wasn’t unusual to lose a sail now and again, but he’d never seen the cording frayed quite like this.

Marcus looked across the canvas to his friend. A worried expression played across Eck’s typically carefree countenance. “What would sever a line this way?” Marcus asked, holding up the cord Eck had pointed out.

“The cut is too clean for a stress tear.” Eck rolled the cable between his fingers. “I’d have to say a sharp blade.” He tossed the rope onto the deck. “The idea of having a saboteur aboard this ship does not rest easy with me.”

“That makes two of us.” Marcus lifted his gaze from the cording. “You are certain Bryce was busy at the time of this accident?”

“I was personally watching him swab the deck. He could not have done this.”

Marcus frowned. That meant someone else, one of his own men or one of the nine he’d taken on from the MacLeods, was responsible. He could still recall the whole scene. He had just returned to the deck when the sail had let loose. If he had not witnessed it, and run faster than he ever had before in order to knock Rowena to the ground . . .

“I know that look.” Eck’s voice broke into Marcus’s thoughts. “You are not responsible for Rowena’s accident.”

“Aye, I am. I should have been with her.”

Eck lifted a brow. “As captain of this ship it is impossible to be with her day and night. Besides, from what I’ve seen of your bride, she seems more resilient than most women.”

“As her husband it is my duty to protect her.”

“Duty or desire? Three days ago you did not want a wife. Now you have one.” Eck’s gaze ran over him in cool appraisal. “I’ve never known you to be indecisive about anything. The crew and I need you to be fully committed to our current voyage. The dangers are great and the crew is on edge from our previous misfortune. It would be best if you focused your attention on them until we successfully retrieve the treasure with no casualties. Then, once that is through, all your thoughts can turn to desire and that lovely bride of yours.”