Page 40 of The Scot’s Secret

Much the same as the evening before, Clara prepared for another night’s sleep on the hard ground of the small tent. This time, she lay awake for what seemed like hours, waiting for Alex to join her. She knew he would not have gone far, so intent was he on ‘protecting’ her. Part of her despised that she needed his protection at all. Another part quite liked it.

She felt herself getting sleepy when a hand shook her shoulder.

“Clara, wake up.”

Wake up? She hadn’t even slept.

“Clara.”

She shook her head as if to clear it. “Was I sleeping?”

Alex pulled her toward him, and she accepted his silent invitation. Nestling into the crook of his arm, she closed her eyes.

“Dreaming, more like.”

She tucked her chin into her chest for warmth.

“This is quite comfortable.”

Alex chuckled behind her. “You should try it in a bed.”

She strained her neck to look up at him.

“Sleeping?”

This night was much darker than the last, so she could hardly see his face. But his eyes. . . those she could see.

“Of sorts.”

His voice had changed, and suddenly Clara was neither tired nor comfortable. Instead, she could feel his body next to hers. His arm under her head and his leg pressed up against hers, both nearly as hard as the ground they slept on.

“I’d gladly do so if the opportunity presented itself.” She shifted backward to get a better look at his face.

“And what exactly would you do so gladly?”

Clara wasn’t sure what they spoke of anymore. She only knew she wanted Alex Kerr to kiss her—almost badly enough for her to tell him so.

“Sleep.” She remembered now. “On a bed.”

The hand that rested on her arm moved lower, sweeping across her back toward her buttocks. And that was precisely where it stayed.

“But you don’t even appear tired.”

Tired! How could she be tired with him looking at her like that? With his hand, oh dear.

“I’m not.” She could no longer act the coy maid.

“Good.”

He moved so quickly, Clara had the briefest of moments to realize she now lay underneath him, but was not being crushed in any way, before she felt his lips on hers. This time, it was no light touch. His tongue forced her mouth open, and once she realized what he wanted her to do, Clara touched her tongue to his.

She was lost.

Utterly and completely lost.

His mouth swept across hers, his tongue instructing her. She moaned and shifted under him, not because she was uncomfortable precisely, but because she wanted him to move closer.

Clara reached her arms up and pulled him down to her.