continued. “Me men are a decent lot, but ye would test their limits if circumstances brought ye together with one of them in the darker hours of the night.” His gaze settled on her lips for a moment. “Ye are temping, Cora.”
The timbre of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. The memory of them sharing the bed the night before surfaced, making her feel like her insides were melting. There was a strange twisting of her belly, and she felt like her lips were suddenly far too sensitive to bear. She craved something. Something she didn’t dare name.
Faolan suddenly pushed away from her. The bed ropes groaned once more as he stood up and contemplated her.
Cora sat up, pushing her hands behind her as her gaze remained fused with his.
A moment later, he’d spun around. The longer pleats of his kilt swished back and forth as he walked, giving her a peek at his thighs.
The door shut with a hard sound. She shook as she stared at the wood.
*
Virgin.
Faolan tried to focus on the word. The trouble was, he was still seeing the way she’d looked at him.
Like she wanted to try him.
Christ.
Cora was a virgin, but she was also the siren he’d first seen shaking her fist at the storm. Even tumbled and bruised, she’d spit in the eye of her tormentor.
So it stood to reason that while he might intimidate her, she’d still jut her chin out at him.
The problem was, he liked that boldness.
Liked it far too much.
Faolan stopped while he was still in the lower part of the stairwell. He drew in several deep breaths. He didn’t need his men to get a look at him. They already thought keeping Cora was a fine idea. With just a tiny bit of encouragement, they’d take to doing their best to push Cora into his path, and he honestly doubted his resolve.
But he was beneath her.
It was strange the way the idea bothered him. It was a fact that he’d enjoyed knowing he’d been born on the wrong side of the sheets, because it seemed to ruffle so many feathers. It wasn’t as if he’d committed the sin himself, but his life had been full of times when his illegitimacy had been thrown in his face.
He was the product of sin.
He’d embraced it rather than allow it to weigh his shoulders down. It had been the only way to find peace with himself over the years. He chuckled a little on his way back to the hall. It was a fact that he’d never expected to question.
But what man actually expected a siren to be tossed up onto the rocks at his feet?
*
Faolan was wiser than Cora’s impulses.
Wiser than her rioting emotions.
But Cora was still in his bed, and that made her uncomfortable and frustrated. The night before, she’d been too exhausted to realize the bedding held his scent. Now, she couldn’t seem to ignore it.
She liked it.
She punched the pillow. Clearly, there were consequences for not sitting at home and waiting for Cormac Grant to come and claim her. Oh, it wasn’t the gossip, which she’d long heard would tarnish her reputation.
No, Cora was discovering a very real longing growing inside her to have Faolan join her in the bed once again. If she were home, she’d never have encountered him. Never realized the true meaning of the word intriguing.
Ye’ve gone mad.
Maybe.
Or perhaps she was just continuing to grow up, and the woman in her recognized just what a prime specimen Faolan was. They did say lust was fickle. That it struck without warning and was deaf to logical thinking. It would seem Fate wasn’t finished toying with her yet.
Was she becoming a wanton then?
Cora lay back to contemplate that thought. Her belly was quiet now, but she still recalled the way it had twisted with excitement. Her heart had been hammering away, and it was a plain fact that she had been breathless, wondering if Faolan was intent on kissing her when he’d had her pinned down.
But wanton was a harsh word. A sinful one.
Would ye prefer to be frigid?
Cora ended up grinning. Spending time with the Mackenzie Retainers had brought her into contact with the sort of conversations men had with one another when they didn’t expect there to be women around. While some of it was offensive, what she’d learned was worth the blushes. At least that was her opinion. Alone in the bedchamber, there was no reason not to be honest.
She’d