tug on it, the delicate fabric would rend in two. Already a draft from the cracks in the window wound its way around her legs, circling up over her calves and thighs, pressing against her buttocks and the heated apex of her thighs. Her nipples were hard, and if the very faint light of the torch behind him were brighter, she was certain he would see the pebbled nubs jutting against the white fabric.
Worse still, she wanted to kiss him, to hit him, at the same time. It was utter madness, that was all there was to it. To feel what it was like when lips were pressed together in passion. To feel that desire she’d seen on the face of the woman in the drawing she’d found in the satchel. To hit him for making her think these thoughts, for wanting him. Men, desire, all the things that came with it—none of those were in the cards for Jenny, as much as she might want some part of that world. She couldn’t. Wouldn’t. The cost was too great, the cause too much a part of her. The prince’s importance, getting the redcoats out of their lands, it was all so much more important than settling down to familial discourse or even succumbing to a moment of rapture.
Desires of the flesh were a distraction.
Hadn’t she noticed that already? Every look he gave her. The very sight of him. The feel of him. His scent. All of it had her turning her head toward him like her hound on a bone. She wanted him, aye, to devour him whole. She wasn’t even certain what all those feelings meant or the various ways in which people could do such a thing. But licking him, holding him tight to her body, it sounded so very wicked and so very delicious.
And judging from the intensity of his blue stare, he was thinking much the same things. There was promise in his wicked eyes—promise of delights she could only imagine—and it made her tingle all the more.
Jenny swallowed hard, knowing full well that her silence spoke volumes and yet unable to make her tongue work. Her throat was tight, her body tighter.
“Lass…” Toran inched closer, and she was powerless to step back, couldn’t make her feet move. “Dinna look at me like that.” His voice was guttural, filled with the same hunger she felt deep in her core.
What was one kiss?
Nay! She couldn’t. And then she worried… Could he tell she wanted him desperately?
“I…” She cleared her throat, backing away from his advancing steps.
He reached for her, the backs of his fingers stroking over her cheek in a touch that was whisper soft. It sent another volley of shivers racing up her spine. Her hardened nipples tingled, and a place deep inside pulsed with need.
“Dinna come any closer,” she managed, knowing that if he did she would give in. She wanted to, maybe just once, to feel what it was like.
“Why?” Toran asked, startling her from her internal thoughts.
Why indeed…
“’Tis not decent,” she managed.
He grinned at her as though amused. “The lass who traipses across the countryside in trews, who snuck up on me in a nightgown with her pistol pressed to my heart, is worried over decency? Ye amaze me.”
The words could have been mocking, especially coming from him, but instead, in that moment and in his tone, the words were overlaid with admiration. Her throat went dry.
“I’ve never met another like ye, Mistress J. And I can see now why men follow ye.”
The words were meant as a compliment, she was certain, and yet she could hear how quickly they dropped off from what else he meant to say. What was it? Dare she imagine that he would follow her too?
“Tell me what ye were looking for up here,” she commanded. “The truth this time.”
“Ye.”
He didn’t hesitate when he said it, and given the expression on his face as the words came out, she wasn’t the only one surprised.
“Why?”
Toran shook his head, ran a hand through his wild hair. “I canna say.”
“Ye dinna seem like a man who acts without conviction.”
“Ye’re correct.” His gaze met hers then. “Ye distract me from myself.”
Was this another ploy? Was she going to find herself pinned to the floor again, him having disarmed her of her pistol?
“In another life,” he began, his gaze raking hotly over her. “In another life, I’d have taken ye to bed by now.”
“In another life, I’d have pulled the trigger.”
With a chuckle,