Highlander Most Wanted Page 0,82
her breasts, as she was suddenly bare before him.
“Do not hide such loveliness from me,” he chided gently.
He carefully pulled her arms away from her body. She was shocked to discover that his hands trembled against her. It was as though he was every bit as nervous as she.
Her heart clutched. She found it endearing that he was so sweet and gentle, and that he seemed unsure of himself.
She loosened her hold on herself and allowed him to pull her arms away so that he could view her nudity. The immediate look of satisfaction in his eyes bolstered her flagging courage.
She was no stranger to lust. Ian had looked upon her like a man determined not only to possess her but to own her, to insert himself into every part of her mind, body, and soul.
But the way Bowen gazed upon her was different. She soaked it up, holding it close and savoring every look, every touch.
“I would undress you as well,” she said huskily, but she hesitated, because she didn’t want to seem overbold.
He took her hands and guided them to his tunic, to the lacings securing the neck.
“Nothing would bring me more pleasure than to have your hands upon me.”
Clumsily, she worked at the laces and then allowed her hands to glide down his muscled arms and to his taut abdomen, where she gathered the material and began to push upward.
He helped her tug it over his head, and her gaze settled on the stitched scar curving across his chest. As he had done with hers, she leaned forward and kissed every inch of the mark, her lips lingering over the puckered flesh.
His heart thundered against her mouth and his breath escaped his mouth in a long hiss.
“Do you have any idea how much I’ve dreamed of this?” he asked. “Your mouth on me, the sweetness of your kiss and caress. ’Tis more than I could possibly have ever wished for.”
She ducked her head shyly, her cheeks heating at his fervent words.
He reached to cup her jaw, rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone as he gazed tenderly at her. “Ah, lass, your shyness is so endearing.”
She rubbed her face into his palm, aching for more of his caress. Then he slowly rose, standing before her so that she had access to his leggings.
The ridge of his arousal was readily visible, and she swallowed nervously as she began to divest him of the last of his clothing. Finally his hands covered hers and he assisted her in pushing them down his legs, and he stepped free.
He was a magnificent sight standing before her. All male, hard, muscled, the ultimate warrior. Scars crisscrossed his body, some old and fading, some, like the one on his chest, much newer.
’Twas evident that this was a man who’d fought in many a battle. He bore the marks of the most seasoned warrior, a testament to his strength and training.
From the dark hair at the juncture of his thighs, his erection jutted upward, thick and heavy. She’d learned to fear such a sight, because she knew it meant only pain and humiliation for her.
But this was a testament to his arousal and his need of her. Her. A scarred lass with nothing to offer him, her virtue long ago taken against her will.
It was hard not to shrink away in shame all over again, for she was not worthy of this man or of his regard.
Bowen eased down onto the bed again, taking in the instant change in her demeanor. He stroked her hair, allowing his hand to run the length of her tresses as he stared at her in question.
“Why that look? As though you would turn from me in shame?”
Her eyes were haunted. Sadness clung to them, drenching the pools with a wealth of unspoken emotion.
“Once I would have been worthy of you,” Genevieve said in an anguished voice. “I was innocent and untouched. My parents were of noble birth, and I was fostered in the king’s court. I attended the queen herself.” She looked up, her face filled with sorrow and the knowledge of all that had been forced upon her. “Now I am no more than the lowliest whore. Certainly not fit for a warrior bearing the Montgomery name and kin to one of the mightiest lairds in all of Scotland.”
Rage filled him. He was awash in it until it flamed his senses and burned through his veins. “Not worthy?” he said, his voice gruff and unyielding. “ ’Tis I