A Lass to Love (Brides of Scotland #1) - Tammy Andresen Page 0,20

down his neck, she trailed her fingers over his muscles, tracing the hard lines in his chest and abdomen. The kiss intensified, drew deeper, each stroke longer until all she could think or feel was him.

Her wet jacket hit the floor with a resounding thud and she smiled, realizing she’d barely noticed him removing the heavy garment. And when he pulled her close again, her torso came into contact with his, the warmth of his skin heating hers through her gown.

She snaked her hands about his waist, wanting even more of his heat and strength. He slid his fingers into her hair, cradling the base of her skull with his palm and tilting her head so that he could kiss her even deeper.

Dear lord, never in her wildest dreams had she imagined such passion. She was drunk on his kisses, the heady flavor of him intoxicating her to dizzying heights. He tasted of wine and wood and some other uniquely male flavor. Strong and delicious.

He pulled away a bit, creating a void between them, and she made a small noise of protest, but he smiled against her lips as he began working the buttons down the front of her dress.

She shrugged out of the arms, and pushed the fabric down over her hips, allowing it to land in a puddle on the floor.

With a swift and practiced move, he swiped her chemise down below her breast and dropped his mouth to the rounded flesh. When he sucked in her nipple, she thought she might die of pleasure as she wound her fingers into his hair, holding him closer.

“Fiona,” he said, his voice rough and scratchy as he lifted his head and pulled the fabric back from her other breast. “You’re so lovely. In every way. I just want-—”

A loud bang on the door stopped his words. His hands tightened on her middle as a wave of nervousness made her start. “Who is that?”

“That will be Colin. Get your dress on…quickly.” He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head as she shrugged on the now-wrinkled dress and he began doing up the buttons.

The knock sounded again, louder. “Tom, open up this door or I’ll break it down,” Colin growled from the other side. “And then I’ll send ye the bill. I ken she’s in there.”

“I’m coming,” he called.

Fiona drew in a quick breath. “Should I hide?”

“There’s no need.” He leaned down and kissed her lips. “But we’d better open the door before he becomes even angrier.”

Fiona nodded, butterflies dancing about her stomach.

With two steps, Tom crossed the room and swung open the door. “Good to see you again so soon.”

Colin stepped in, his eyes narrowing. “I told ye, nothing happens on this ship I don’t ken about.” Then he pointed at Fiona. “What is she doing here?”

Fiona clenched her hands at her sides. “Why are ye asking him?”

Colin turned to her, his expression black. “I’ll deal with ye later.” Then he turned back to Tom. “I defended ye to my aunt and this is how ye repay me?”

Tom started to speak but Fiona stepped forward. “Don’t blame him. This is my fault. I came down here uninvited. I entered his room.”

Colin banged the wall with his fist. “And I suppose ye wrinkled yer own dress too? He had nothing to do with that?”

Fiona winced. He had her there. “Try to understand, Colin. Since I was sixteen, it’s been duty and the business of marriage. I just wanted a bit of fun.”

Colin opened his mouth to answer but Tom spoke first. “I beg your pardon. Is that what I am to you? A bit of fun?”

Tom’s head buzzed with anger and hurt. With startling clarity, he realized that he’d talked of marriage but she hadn’t breathed a word about a making a future with him.

Yes, she’d said that she wouldn’t marry Exmouth, but she hadn’t agreed to marry Tom either.

He was just a bit of fun. A Cheapside merchant who was handsome to look at and fun to touch but nothing serious.

Fiona held her hands in front of her. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?” He put his hands on his hips. “Because I told you that I wanted to marry you. What did you say in return?”

Her face paled and she stepped closer, her tongue wetting her lips. “Tom. Try to understand. It isn’t a question of not being serious about ye. I just…” She hesitated, looking up at the ceiling.

Colin stepped between them. “Yer explanation can