I didnae ken better, I’d think ye were Scottish.”
Heavens, he was arousing. Every hard, delicious inch of him. But she had to go.
Really.
She sighed. Really, she should …
She kissed him once more. Caressed his jaw and traced his handsome, patrician nose with her fingertip. “Do ye have any idea how much I’ll miss ye, English?” she whispered. “Even an hour feels like torture.”
But she must leave. So, she braced her hands on his shoulders and sat up.
His eyelids fluttered. Then lifted. His body tensed—and not in a lustful way. Rather, he seemed startled and threatened, like hunted prey.
One moment, she sat astride the man she loved.
The next, she lay pinned to the bed with a madman above her.
“What were you doing?” he growled, his hands gripping her wrists with hard pressure. “What the devil did you think you were doing?”
All the hues of his eyes, green and brown and gold, were visible because his pupils were pinpoints. But as beautiful as they were, they didn’t see her.
“English?” She kept her voice calm and low, as he was holding her much more tightly than he would have done if he were not in the grip of something ferocious. “Perhaps ye were dreamin’, but ye’re awake now.”
He shook her. “You were on top of me.”
“Aye.” She winced. “I didnae mean to give ye such a start.” Despite the discomfort of being pinned, she attempted to lighten the mood. “Och, ye’re a hard sleeper, English. In more ways than one. I had to grow new muscles to roll yer dead weight off of me. And ye still refused to loosen yer grip on my backside. That’s how we wound up playin’ rider and mount. Not that I’m opposed to new positions, mind. Standin’ on my head might be out of the question. But most other things, I’m available for persuadin’.”
His brow crinkled. He blinked. His breathing slowed from a harsh pant to a steady rhythm. “Annie?”
“Good mornin’, English,” she said with a gentle smile.
He glanced to where he held her. Went a bit peely. Then instantly released her and rolled away. “God. I’m sorry. I—did I hurt you?”
“Nah. I’ve had worse tussles with a leg of lamb. Nearly put out an eye once.” Cautiously, she sat up. Her wrists were a bit red, but they didn’t hurt. “Was it a nightmare, then?”
He didn’t answer. Merely ran a hand down his face then plucked up her hands to examine her wrists.
She scooted closer. “Can ye tell me what happened?”
Frowning, he shook his head and laid the gentlest kisses on the insides of each wrist. “I am a deep sleeper. Sometimes when I first awaken, I’m a bit … disoriented.” More kisses. A nuzzle or two. “I am dreadfully sorry, love,” he whispered.
She slid into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Seems ye thought ye were bein’ attacked, hmm?”
Again, he didn’t answer.
Sighing, she cupped his jaw, kissed his mouth, and stroked his cheek with her thumb. “I ken ye’d never hurt me, English.”
“I would die first.” Blazing gold, his eyes lifted to hers. “And I would kill anyone else who tried.”
Enchanting, ferocious Englishman. She grinned. “Aye, of course. Now, I dinnae need anyone killed today, but I could use a bit of help with my gown.”
“Why? You’re ravishing like this.” He stroked her loose hair and dragged his lips along her naked shoulder.
“I must dress so I can return to MacPherson House.” She kissed him and slid off his lap. “Before Angus arrives with his huntin’ rifle.”
“I’m coming with you.”
She climbed off the bed and began gathering up her gown and underclothes. “Nah. Ye should stay here.” After tugging her shift over her head, she bent and plucked a stocking from beneath one of the leather chairs. “I’m more than a wee bit fond of yer bonnie face.”
“I am coming with you. End of discussion.”
Glancing at him over her shoulder, she arched a brow. “Ah, ye’re amusin’, English. Come help me with my corset.”
An hour later, Annie sat in her lilac gown upon Jacqueline’s back with her amusing Englishman’s arms wrapped around her. She didn’t know which of them had won the argument. Once he’d begun helping her fit her bosom into her corset, she’d completely lost track of her point.
But as MacPherson House came into view through riffling