A Hellion at the Highland Court (The Highland Ladies #9) - Celeste Barclay Page 0,29
thistle is the symbol our Scottish pride for a reason. It’s like our people, indomitable and proud. Ye’re a thistle, Laurel. Indomitable, and ye should be proud.”
“Brodie,” Laurel shuddered as she burrowed back against his chest. Brodie tipped her chin up and brushed away the last tears with his thumb.
“Shh, Laurie. It tears at ma heart to see ye so wounded.” Brodie saw the spark in Laurel’s eyes when he used the diminutive. “Do ye like me to call ye Laurie?”
“Aye,” Laurel breathed. “I’ve never thought of maself as a flower. But if I ever had, I suppose I would consider maself a bush of nettles.” Laurel offered Brodie a watery smile, and he returned it with a grin.
“As prickly and itchy as the nettle might be, even its tea is good for the body,” Brodie pointed out.
“Do ye intend to boil me alive to find ma softer side?” Laurel gazed up at Brodie, but a shiver coursed along her spine when she caught the spark of desire in Brodie’s eyes.
“Laurie, I’ve already found it,” Brodie whispered before he lowered his mouth toward hers, giving her a chance to push him away. Laurel slid her hand up Brodie’s chest and over his shoulder until her fingers tangled in the hair at the base of his skull.
“I think I’ve found yers,” Laurel murmured before their lips pressed together. The spark of desire turned into a raging fire as Brodie fought the urge to crush Laurel against him. He flicked his tongue against her lips twice before growing bolder and pressing it against the seam of hers. Guessing what he wanted, she opened to him. Her gasp of surprise when his tongue entered her mouth made Brodie wonder what else he could do to elicit such a sound. Laurel shifted restlessly against him, twisting her body closer to him. Brodie’s hand slid down to cup her backside. When she gasped again, Brodie fisted his other hand in her hair, steeling himself against the temptation to press her beneath him on the stairs and hike up her skirts before thrusting into her.
A sound in the stairwell a flight below them made them jerk apart. Laurel turned a terrified expression toward Brodie, who was already pushing to his feet. He helped Laurel to hers, but neither moved beyond that. They waited to determine if the sound drew nearer. When it receded instead, Brodie wrapped his arm around Laurel’s waist and pulled her against him. She put up no fight, her hands pressing high upon his chest.
“We canna stay here, Laurie. There’s more to say to one another, but I willna have ye forced into marrying me because someone finds us like this.”
Laurel nodded as she looked around them. Brodie was right; if anyone found them, even if they weren’t kissing, she would have no choice but to marry Brodie. He might have shown an interest in her—he might even desire her—but Laurel was unconvinced that he wanted to marry her. She stepped back and lifted her skirts, prepared to finish climbing the stairs, but Brodie blocked her route.
“Are ye all right to make it to yer chamber?” Brodie asked.
Laurel cocked an eyebrow and fell back into her courtly speech. “Do you believe your kisses sufficient to keep me so weak kneed that I can’t walk to my door?”
“Keep you weak kneed?” Brodie smirked. “Then they have done a fine job to start.”
Laurel rolled her eyes. “If anyone is in need, it is you.” Her gaze flickered downward for a moment. “Of having your sporran remain in place.”
“Saucy as ever,” Brodie laughed, his hand darting out to cup her backside as he took two steps down, bringing them eye-to-eye.
“Do you wish me to be otherwise?” Laurel quipped, but Brodie felt her anxiety as her body tensed.
“Not in the least.”
“Brodie?” Laurel waited until he nodded. “I truly am sorry for what I said and did earlier. What possessed me to spit at your boots is beyond me. That went much too far, even for me.”
“You were justly upset,” Brodie placated, but Laurel shook her head.
“Please don’t make excuses for me. I’m ashamed of how I acted. I—I—I don’t want you to think that’s how I would treat you normally. I spoke the truth the other day. I respect you, and I—I—would like you to respect me, too.”
“Laurie, I already do. If I didn’t, would I have come after you? Would I have stayed with you?”