“Well, I’ve changed my mind,” Evie said with fire. “I don’t need to be married. Look at Gavina, and your sisters. Intelligent ladies who have plenty to occupy them, none needing a man to make them complete. I’ve decided to take a page from their book.”
She was so beautiful as she glared at him, declaring her independence. As Jamie had wanted that for her all along, he rejoiced.
You must give her what she needs, Ian had advised. Jamie had revised this to What she needs, that only I can give her.
Joy. Freedom. Happiness. She’d stated moments ago that she’d been happy for the first time in a very long while.
Time to let her go, at least for now. Let her live with that happiness, with herself, with that peace.
Only, he’d made her angry at him. She always would be, Jamie realized. Angry, then laughing, then exasperated.
He loved her.
“Exactly,” Jamie answered. “Go home. Be free. Away from the pestering Jamie.”
“I don’t want to be away from you,” Evie shouted. “I want to be with you, blast you.”
She wasn’t supposed to. She was supposed to waft merrily away while Jamie started the next part of his plans to woo her.
He scrubbed his hands through his hair. “Well, I have to go. I thought you’d be glad.”
“Glad?” Her glare intensified. “After you kicked your way into my life whether I liked it or not, and made me love you? Why should I be glad? But now you are finished, and I ought to be too?”
“Love.” Jamie heard only the one word. “Oh, lass, don’t joke with me about that.”
“I am not joking.” Evie’s eyes blazed. “I love you, Jamie Mackenzie. Damn you.”
What was left of Jamie’s composure snapped.
He seized Evie and dragged her to him, his mouth on hers. The kiss was hard, brief, bruising. When he pulled away, Evie gasped for breath.
Jamie didn’t let her catch that breath. He closed his hand around her wrist and pulled her with him into the house, past the startled Murray, up the stairs, and down the hall into his bedroom.
As he slammed the door, he heard Murray snap his fingers at the dogs, and lead them outside in a discreet retreat.
Chapter 29
Evie’s fury at Jamie clawed excitement through her as Jamie kicked the door shut and turned her with hard hands into his embrace.
His strength heightened her already giddy need. She knew she’d have to struggle to get away, but she no longer wanted to.
Jamie lifted her around the waist and set her on the edge of the sturdy bedstead, then stepped between her legs to kiss her. His mouth opened hers, and Evie kissed him back without restraint.
She started when he began tugging her skirts upward, but Evie did not break the kiss. If he hadn’t touched her as he had on the riverbank, she’d have been filled with agitation, but now she eagerly craved the sensations she remembered.
She was supposed to be angry with him. And she was, but Evie’s anger fled on a hot wave of desire.
Jamie slid his hands to her drawers, which he loosened. Instead of dipping inside them as he had before, he quickly pulled them from her and tossed them onto the bed.
Evie drew a sharp breath, their mouths parting. She felt very odd with nothing between her bare skin and her skirts, but the feeling brought elation.
Evie had never done naughty things before, especially those naughty things one experienced with a man. Now she embraced them. Jamie could teach her so much, she realized, heart thudding.
Jamie’s eyes darkened as he pushed her skirts out of his way. He ran the edge of his hand between her parted legs, and Evie made a quick sound of delight.
“Love.” Jamie’s gaze went to the dark hair at her most private place, which was hot and damp. “Your beauty never stops.”
Evie melted under his flattery and his touch, unable to speak. She lay back on her elbows, trying not to squirm, while Jamie caressed her, sounds like whimpers dragging from her. She lifted her hips, wanting more, and Jamie chuckled.
“In a moment, greedy lass.” He leaned and pressed a kiss right over the hottest place, and Evie let out a cry.
Jamie shed his jacket and shirt, kicked out of his shoes and socks, and fumbled with the buckles of his kilt. Evie lounged back and watched her delectable Highlander come into view.
The kilt at last loosened, and Jamie dropped it on top of his shirt and coat. He wore closely fitting underdrawers that outlined his thighs and the ridge of his cock. His undershirt came off, revealing a hard, sculpted chest dusted with dark red hair.
Evie held her breath as he slid the underdrawers down his legs and stepped out of them.
The body she gazed at had nothing wrong with it. Jamie was a beautiful man, possessing the wild strength of this place.
Scars crossed his chest from whatever wrecks and fights he’d gotten himself into. One scar brushed his hip, drawing Evie’s eyes, before his hardness, which lifted toward her, distracted her from all else.
She’d touched that and played with it, bringing Jamie to his peak without realizing what she did. Evie wanted to touch him again, to savor his smooth, hot skin, the hardness like steel beneath. She balled her hands, willing them to keep still.
“It’s all right, love.” Jamie drifted closer. “Do as you please.”
Evie sat all the way up, her skirts hiding her bareness. She reached for him, his eyes closing when she folded her hand around him.
Stroking him on the train, when they’d barely been able to move, had been enjoyable. This was even better, her tall, marvelous man bared for her delectation.
She drew her hand down his cock, and Jamie groaned, his head going back. Encouraged, Evie stroked more firmly, liking the way he thrust into her palm.
His shaft fascinated her, large and rigid, curls of dark red hair at its base. The hair was wiry, wrapping her fingers.
Jamie flexed his hands at his sides, his thighs tightening. He raised his head and gazed down at Evie, eyes half closed and warm with desire.
Evie continued to stroke, Jamie’s breath coming faster. When Evie trickled her fingers over the intriguing tip, Jamie growled and forced her hand away.
“I can’t,” he said, voice ragged. “I need …”
He trailed off, shaking his head. He dragged Evie’s skirts up again, this time lifting her hips with one hand and baring her fully. She shivered at the sensation of the coverlet against her skin.
“Are ye cold?” Jamie asked with sudden concern. “Let me warm ye, love.”
He stepped between her knees, scooping her legs over his arms. The mattress was high enough that Jamie’s tip just touched her opening. His fingers had singed her, but the gentle press of his cock was searing.
Instead of pushing himself inside, Jamie stilled, waiting. Evie knew she could say no, tell him to go, or leave this house herself. Jamie wouldn’t hinder her—she knew him well enough now to understand that.
Evie closed her hands around his broad wrists and tugged her to him, giving him a quick nod. Yes, please.
Jamie stifled a groan and slid partway inside her.
The light in the room became suddenly more golden. Heat opened Evie, softened her at the unfamiliar feeling of Jamie thick inside her.
“I’ll try not to hurt you, love.” His voice was quiet, reassuring her even through his own need.