holding on to him, not willing to let go. “What about my school? And your practice?”
He ran the tip of his finger along the curve of her jaw. “I know how much the school means to you, so I would never try to stop you from building it. As for my practice, there are plenty of lawyers in Edinburgh. One less will make little difference, and perhaps Dunbrachie could use a new one.”
“There aren’t any solicitors in Dunbrachie.”
That practical observation brought a smile to his face. “Then, my dear, my darling, as soon as I can see that all my current clients have new solicitors, I’ll pack my books and bags and return.”
“You would give up your practice in Edinburgh for me?”
“I’d do much more than that,” he assured her as he bent his head for another deep, soul-searing kiss.
Confident in his love, she returned it eagerly, wantonly, untying the sash of her robe and letting it fall unheeded to the ground as she leaned her body into his. Knowing that he loved her, certain that she loved him, all restraint fell away and she gave herself up to the desire that had been too long denied.
Until he broke the kiss and drew back, panting, and a pang of dismay caught her. “Did I hurt you?” she asked anxiously, for in her selfish need, she’d forgotten about his wounds.
He shook his head. “It’s not that,” he huskily replied. “We aren’t married yet, so I should behave with honor and make you go.”
She heard his words, but his body and his eyes told her something else. And she paid more heed to them, as well as the yearning of her own heart. “Tomorrow you’ll be going back to Edinburgh, and I must go to Glasgow to raise money for my school. It may be weeks or months before we see each other again. I want you to be sure of me before you go, Gordon. To prove to you that I won’t change my mind. I want you to believe that I can and will be constant.”
He started to speak, but she pressed her fingertip to his warm lips. “I want to show you that I believe you when you say you love me. I want to show you how much I love you.”
“Moira, I do believe you. There’s no need for further proof.”
She slid her hands down his long, strong arms. “I think there is. I want there to be,” she whispered. “Gordon, please,” she murmured, pressing her anxious, nearly naked body against his. “Please, make love with me.”
Chapter Eighteen
At first, Gordon didn’t respond, as if he was weighing the evidence in his mind, and she feared she had finally stepped over the mark, been too brazen and gone too far.
But then…oh, then!
It was as if the vessel holding his desire shattered, to release the emotions bottled within. He took her in his arms and kissed her with such passion, she could scarcely breathe.
She didn’t care if she never breathed again, as long as he let her stay with him and kept kissing her. As long as he wanted her with such fierce yearning, a longing that quickly engulfed and enflamed her, too.
For one brief instant, she realized that she had never felt anything even close to this overwhelming physical need for a man. Never in her life had she wanted to know every inch of a man’s body, and to have him as familiar with hers. To kiss and stroke and caress, to lick and touch and graze.
With fervent hunger to do all that and more, she broke the kiss to undo the remaining buttons of his shirt. She abandoned any pretence of maidenly modesty as she lost her patience. She tore off the buttons in her haste before capturing his mouth again. She shoved his shirt aside to slide her hands over his hot, naked chest above the bandage still wrapped around his torso.
Then, oh, then! He swept her up in his strong arms and carried her to the bed, setting her down as gently as if she were made of delicate glass.
But as he stepped back and tugged off his shirt, his eyes told a different story—that he was looking at a woman, and one he wanted as much as any man, civilized or primitive, had ever wanted a woman. That his whole being was concentrated on assuaging a physical need as powerful as the one coursing through her body.
Just as quickly his boots were off and