The Highlander's Forbidden Mistress - Anna Campbell Page 0,23

concentrated attention, because his rod twitched and began to harden.

She’d have thought the prospect of further congress would hold no immediate appeal after that last volcanic encounter, but even so, a spark stirred. She loved having him inside her. The degree of intimacy in their joining had astonished her. Whenever Roderick had used her, she just felt lonely and awkward. After what she’d just shared with her wicked lover, she felt like a goddess.

Brock fastened his breeches and pulled his watch from his pocket. "Later. We’re too close to the hunting lodge."

She blushed, which was absurd given she’d just passed the most abandoned hours of her life. "You’re turning me into a libertine."

He smiled at her with a lazy appreciation that only bolstered her sensual interest. "I do hope so, lassie."

Still blushing, feeling ridiculously shy, she bent to pick up her drawers then wondered what to do with them.

"Put them on," he murmured. "I want to watch you."

"Brock…"

His smile intensified. "It would give me untold pleasure to see you cover up the places that I have plans to uncover again as soon as I can."

"Very well," she said, but her hands were unsteady as she wriggled back into her drawers. Brock had to help her with the tapes. The brush of his fingers on her bare skin set off little explosions of arousal inside her. He seemed to find the experience just as titillating.

By the time he finished, they were both breathing in uneven gasps. He rested one elegant hand on her mound then released her.

"Will you help to make me decent?" she asked. "I must look like you’ve dragged me through a hedge."

His eyes appraised her with more of that unfettered approval. He could have no idea the potent effect that expression had on her. Both Roderick and Cecil viewed her as a project that required constant improvement. Whereas Brock acted as if he beheld an unparalleled masterpiece.

"I have no interest in making you decent, my darling." Another of those secret smiles. "Not when I’ve just discovered how ravishing you are when you choose to be indecent."

Selina laughed, knowing she should feel guilty or self-conscious, instead of giddy and elated. After all, she’d just been thoroughly debauched by a man to whom she wasn’t married.

In the middle of the day. In a carriage.

The angels must weep for her. But while heaven might abhor her fall, she was a mere mortal and she’d never felt so happy.

"Well, at least help me with my bonnet."

With amusement narrowing his eyes, Brock was so handsome that her heart performed somersaults. "Why didn’t you say so?"

Chapter 5

The short December day drew to a close when Brock’s carriage pulled up outside a neat two-story house in gray stone in the middle of a salt marsh. Selina stared with dazed eyes across the flat, rather desolate landscape. She assumed the continuous thunder in the distance was the sea.

Brock leaned across to unlatch the door. "I promised you privacy for our week."

"I see you’ve delivered."

He stepped out and extended his hand. She stumbled on the step as the freezing salt-tinged air struck her like a blow. After all they’d done in the carriage, long-unused muscles protested when she moved. Her grip on his hand tightened, as she feared her knees mightn’t keep her upright.

"Hold tight." He swung her up into his arms.

She’d felt dizzy leaving the carriage. She felt even dizzier now. Brock’s delicious scent enveloped her, along with a radiant heat. It was bitterly cold. She wasn’t surprised to feel a few soft flakes of snow brush her nose.

The door to the house opened, and a middle-aged man and woman bustled down the steps toward them.

"My lord, welcome, welcome." The man had a thick Scottish accent, much more noticeable than Brock’s attractive lilt. "And to the lady also."

Selina stiffened in Brock’s arms. Cringing with embarrassment, she buried her face in his shoulder. She hadn’t expected the house to be staffed. Although common sense said it must be. She supposed the coachman must know why she and his master sought out this isolated place, but the idea of a host of people witnessing her fall from grace made her flinch.

"Jock and Mary, how good to see you after all this time. Let me get Mrs. Martin inside out of the cold."

Selina muffled a protest at the use of her real name. "It’s all right," Brock murmured, as he strode up the shallow flight of steps leading to the open door. He paused at the top to turn