“Two reasons,” she answered. “First, I want all the daft villagers who believe me mad to remember that Angus and I dinnae share a bloodline. That way, should my brothers ever sort themselves out enough to find wives and sire bairns, there willnae be any question.”
“And the second reason?”
“To remind myself that he didnae have to love me. He chose to.”
Another stroke of a knuckle over her cheek. Another warm sigh across her lips. “I’d wager it was less of a choice than you suppose,” he murmured.
Loud, distant banging, like stone being struck with a hammer, rang throughout the castle. She blinked, realizing they’d been standing much too close to one another. Huxley seemed to realize it, too, given how swiftly he dropped his hand and backed away from her.
It felt like having her blankets torn away on a cold morning.
Gathering her composure, she nodded toward the door. “Dougal, I presume?”
He cleared his throat. “I’ve asked him to start straight away.”
“The kitchen?”
“The bedchamber.”
“Nah. Ye should put him to work on the kitchen first.”
Huxley frowned. “I’ll be hiring enough men to address all the necessary repairs. Household staff, as well.” He paused. “This brings me to the topic I intended to discuss with you.”
“Good. The kitchen floor is a disgrace. Anybody could stumble on the loose stones and land in the fire.”
“You mustn’t come here alone again.”
“The larder, too. Ye need shelves, English. Once they’re built, we can fill them up. It willnae be long before yer fine figure is big enough for tossin’ a caber.”
“Miss Tulloch. Are you listening to me?”
“Enough to ken ye make no sense.”
He scraped a hand over his beard. “Already, Dougal MacDonnell has seen you here. Word will spread quickly.”
“Dinnae be daft, English.”
“You asked me to teach you how to be a lady, did you not?”
“Aye.”
“Well, here is the first rule: No lady allows herself to be compromised.”
“Ye said yourself I havenae landed in yer bed.”
His eyes flared oddly. Hands on hips, he paced to the doorway then returned, his jaw flickering. “Being alone with me is sufficient to sully you. The more people who know, the worse it will be.”
“What rubbish. Everybody in Glenscannadoo thinks me a madwoman. I’m already as sullied as Mr. Cleghorn’s pig after he’s had his way with Flora MacDonnell’s sow. The pig, I mean. I dinnae think Mr. Cleghorn has a fondness for sows.”
“Good God, you are the most vexing—”
“Besides, ye havenae so much as kissed me, English. What sort of sullying can there be without kissin’? None at all, I’d say.”
He froze. Pinned her with a hazel gaze that burned gold. He mouthed a foul epithet then shook his head. “I won’t kiss you,” he breathed.
“I wasnae askin’.” Only a small lie, really. She wouldn’t mind knowing how those perfect lips felt against hers.
“The next time you come here, bring a chaperone.” His command, spoken in that precise, clipped English voice, sparked her temper.
She crossed the few feet between them and glared, her chin jutting. “Or what?”
“Or I’ll refuse to instruct you further.”
“Hmmph. Do ye ken what I think, English?”
“It doesn’t matter what you think. You’ll obey me or this agreement ends.”
The fire in her belly intensified. “I think ye’re afraid of what would happen if ye did kiss me.”
His jaw flexed until she thought his teeth might crack.
Slowly, she grinned. “Poor, dainty Englishman. Frightened of wee Annie and her not-so-wee bosoms.”
“Stop.” The word was nothing but gravel. She liked the sound, raw and a bit slurred. She wanted more.
“Dinnae fash, English.” She flicked his coat’s lapel. “I’ll be gentle.”
With a swift motion, he trapped her wrist in his grip, dragging her close before encircling her waist and flattening her against him. “You think this is amusing.”
Amusing? Far from it. The sensation of being pulled tight against him shocked her senses. Stole her breath. Made her vision blur. She’d never imagined feeling her breasts pressured by his hard chest would both ease and enflame her. She hadn’t predicted how powerful he would seem when all that control began to unravel.
The fingers of his free hand traced the top of her ear, sending shivers rippling across her skin. “You think you can ignore my warnings, laugh away the risk, and suffer no consequences.” He lowered his head until she felt hot, damp breath against her neck. “I understand why,” he whispered.
“Y-ye do?” She barely managed to breathe the words. Everything inside her tingled. Her skin and scalp. Her breasts and lips. Her thighs—even her knees. Heavens, what was he doing to her?
“Yes.” He nuzzled the loose hair between her ear and cheek. “A gentleman seems so very harmless.”
“English,” she whispered against his bearded jaw. It was all she could say, for every other thought had fled. Her body sizzled from shoulders to thighs. Every heated breath he released against her skin stoked the heat in her middle. She ached. Ached for him.
“Let this be your next lesson, Miss Tulloch.” Teeth nibbled her earlobe. Lips stroked her jaw. “Heed it well.” His voice was pure rasp.
Somehow, she’d wadded his lapels in her fists. Now, she used her grip to drag him closer. Tighter. “Aye?”
“When you’re alone with a man, nothing apart from his honor prevents him from taking what he desires.” His hand slid up from her waist to her breast. “Be it a touch.”
She moaned and arched into the caress. Her eyes squeezed shut so she could digest the sensation. His palm. Her nipple. Wee pulses of zinging pleasure and the swelling ache of need.
“Or a kiss.” He brushed his perfect lips across hers.
Her tongue darted out to capture the tingles he left behind. The tickle of his beard against her skin disappeared as he carefully withdrew. She followed him blindly, clutching his neck, focused on returning his lips to hers.
But he resisted with ease. “Or an intimacy only your husband should enjoy.”
Suddenly, he grasped her thigh and raised it alongside his. Then, with a practiced motion, he ground his hips into hers, the hard ridge beneath his trousers taking the liberties he spoke of.
Heat and pleasure surged where his hardness intruded upon her soft folds. Separated only by layers of cloth, his body pressured hers, driving upward along ripe, tender nerves. She gasped with the pleasure of it. Heat weakened her until she could only cling to him, burying her nose in his cravat and panting.
Panting.
Panting for more.
Was there more? Her head spun and her middle ached. She wanted him to … she didn’t know. Kiss her, probably. Remove the barriers between them, certainly. Then, what?