My Highland Rogue Read online

  His hands framed her face.

  “Jennifer.”

  “No, I don’t want to be wise, Gordon.” She put her hands on his wrists, but didn’t pull his hands free. “Let me be brazen and shocking. Come to my bed, and let me show you how much I love you.”

  “Jennifer, you’re making it very difficult for me to be honorable.”

  “I don’t want you to be honorable, Gordon. Tonight, of all nights. Or, if you insist on being honorable, then I’ll be shocking. Just lie there, and let me do as I will.”

  She pulled back and looked down at him. “Don’t you want me, Gordon?”

  “Don’t be daft. I’ve wanted you since I first knew what it was to want a woman.”

  “Then why are we here on the stairs and not in my bed?”

  Turning again, she pulled his hand.

  He should have been wiser. Yet he knew exactly how she felt. Daring, devil-may-care, angry at what had happened to them, saying to hell with whatever rules they’d been reared to believe.

  No longer. Not one second more. No more time would elapse before they loved each other freely, completely, making their own rules and their own destiny.

  How long had it been since he’d kissed her? Only weeks, but it felt like years. Longer than that, perhaps. An eon. How had she lived without him? She hadn’t. She’d merely existed, breathing in and out, eating when hunger compelled her to, sleeping to escape everything.

  Their early lives had been spent together, but their upbringing had been so different. She’d been loved and cherished by not only her parents, but by Ellen. Gordon hadn’t had any kind emotion from Sean or Betty.

  Adulthood had equalized them. Or perhaps it was simply that Gordon had gone out into the world and demanded more, something better for himself.

  She was doing the same thing right at this moment. She wouldn’t allow anything to separate them any longer.

  She didn’t care if she shocked Ellen, or the entire staff. Or all of society, for that matter. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to take Gordon’s hand and lead him up the stairs to her suite.

  At the door, he hesitated.

  She didn’t give him a chance to speak, but placed her fingers against his lips.

  “Five years ago, I was going to give myself to you. I couldn’t wait to love you, but then you were gone. You wouldn’t have been able to stop me then, and you won’t be able to stop me now.”

  “I could always leave,” he said. “Return in the morning when saner heads prevail.”

  “Do you truly wish to leave?”

  His smile was her answer.

  She grabbed his hand again and pulled him inside her sitting room, closing the door behind him.

  “I love you. I love you.” It was the only thing she could think of to say and the perfect explanation for everything.

  He pulled her forward, wrapping his arms around her as she rested her cheek against his chest. His heart was beating as fast as hers. His breath was coming as rapidly.

  So many things had come between them. Now nothing would.

  She stepped back, pushing his coat off his shoulders before folding it carefully and laying it across the back of the sitting room sofa.

  He was here. He was real.

  She placed her hands flat on his chest, feeling the contours of his body, marveling at it, as well as the heat beneath his shirt.

  Part of her wanted to rush through this act of giving herself to him, but another wiser part dictated that she slow her movements, make note of everything that happened, to make this night as momentous as possible.

  As a girl she had watched him mature from a boy to a man. Yet the past five years had brought even more changes. His shoulders were broader. The way he carried himself was different.

  One by one, she began to unfasten the buttons of his shirt. He didn’t say anything, trapped in silence. As if they were in a church, and even one word would be sacrilegious to this moment.

  Her smile began deep inside. Or in her heart, where she’d always loved him.

  She parted the shirt, her hands burrowing beneath the material to touch his bare skin. She kissed his chest, softly, sweetly, still smiling. Her tongue darted out and touched his nipple, and that was all it took for him to pull her tight against him. She thought her feet were dangling in the air, but she didn’t care.

  Excitement raced through her, sparked by desire. She’d only felt that with Gordon. When she’d been a girl, a kiss had been enough. Now she needed more.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  She kissed his cheek, then the corner of his mouth. “Come to my bed, my darling Gordon. Please.”

  Suddenly, she was in midair, grabbing onto his shoulders for balance as he lifted her.

  “Gordon!” Her laughter rang through the sitting room as he headed for her bed.

  A moment later, she was bouncing in the middle of the mattress with Gordon looming over her, his grin matching her smile.

  “Well, it’s where you wanted to be.”

  She grabbed his shirt and pulled him to her. “You’re talking too much.”

  Not a thought passed through her mind when he kissed her, only sensation. Excitement pooled in the bottom of her stomach, raced through her body as the kiss ended and he began to nuzzle her throat. One by one, he unfastened the buttons of her dress, exposing her bare skin before anointing each spot with a kiss.

  She’d waited for this moment for years and years. She was thirteen when she realized that what she felt for Gordon was special, fifteen when she kissed him for the first time, eighteen when her thoughts turned to seduction.

  They were both wearing too many clothes, and for the next several moments they were engaged in unfastening, opening, and hurriedly removing the garments that were in their way.

  Finally, finally, they were skin to skin.

  This was Gordon. She felt no shame or even embarrassment to be naked in front of him. She’d seen his chest before, but she spent a great deal of time now kissing her way from one side to the other, making certain that he hadn’t changed in any way.

  He did the same, spending delightful moments on her nipples and smiling when she moaned.

  She felt strangely buoyant, almost as if there was air inside her, lifting her. Her fingertips and toes tingled, even as a sensation deepened in her core. She knew what it was; she’d felt desire whenever they’d begun kissing or his hand brushed against her breasts.

  His hands explored her everywhere, but not in silence. He amused her with his comments, and more than once nearly brought her to tears.

  “I’ve always thought your legs were beautiful. I’m glad to see I was right.”

  “I might’ve been knock-kneed. Would you have loved me then?”

  He raised up over her and pretended to consider the matter. “Very knock-kneed?”

  “Very.”

  He bent and kissed her mouth lightly. “I think it would probably be better than being pigeon-toed.”

  “While you’re absolutely perfect.” Her hands slid down his back to grip his buttocks. “Even there.”

  He grinned back at her.

  “I have to admit that I think your breasts are magnificent.” He bent and kissed one, then the other. “You have very demanding nipples, however. See how they’re standing erect?”

  “Demanding?”

  He nodded. “Insisting on the touch of my lips and tongue.”

  He matched the action to his words, causing her to moan.

  “Even your feet are beautiful.”

  “You’ve seen my feet before.”

  “Then I wasn’t paying attention.”

  She put her hands on his shoulders and drew him down to her. “You’re talking too much and not kissing enough.”

  “You always were bossy,” he said.

  Being with Gordon was the culmination of every dream she ever had, every thought, every occasion of wondering what loving him or making love might be like.

  Her skin heated when he touched her, h
is fingertips stroking over her arms, legs, torso as if it was vitally necessary for him to learn everything about her.

  She felt the same, exploring the whole of his magnificent body from his shoulders to his muscled legs. A moment later, she straddled him, bending down to kiss his chest.

  “I saw you once, washing yourself at the river. I think it was the first time I realized how beautiful you were and how much I wanted you.”

  “Men aren’t beautiful.”

  “You are.”

  “How old were you?”

  How foolish of him to expect her to be able to speak, especially when his fingers were exploring her. He’d never touched her there before, but it was wondrous.

  A moment later, she finally managed to say the words. “I think I was thirteen.”

  “Very precocious, then.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “I do.”

  He bent his legs, then pushed her gently back onto his thighs. Now she was even more at the mercy of his fingers.

  “Gordon.”

  “Am I hurting you?”

  “No.”

  “I’m glad. It doesn’t feel like I’m hurting you. You seem to like it.”

  She could only nod.

  He was driving her mad, especially when he pulled her forward so that he could suck on her nipples.

  A few moments later, he rolled to the side, placing her on her back. When he rose over her, she looked up at him, adrift in need.

  “Gordon. My love.”

  Every single one of his dreams was coming true. Just holding Jennifer had been something forbidden to him for the past several weeks. Now it was as if Fate, Providence, or even God was smiling down on them.

  She epitomized everything he wanted: love, family, belonging, all those things that had been taken from him by an act of greed.

  His fingers skimmed over her skin reverently. He wanted to know her everywhere, all those places that had been hidden from him. Those spots that he had dreamed about as a boy and fantasized over as a man. He placed his palm flat on her stomach, splaying his fingers.

  He wanted everyone to know, just from looking in her eyes, that they belonged together. He wanted the world to understand that he was not complete without Jennifer, and that she felt the same about him.

  He kissed the tip of her nose, smiling as he did so. He had flicked his finger at her nose once, and she had responded by balling up her fist and striking him on the chin.

  They’d stared at each other in surprise, then began to laugh.

  Now her lips curved in a smile as she looked up at him, then linked her fingers together behind his neck.

  “This is what we should have done all those years ago.”

  “Then I really would have been drummed out of Adaire Hall. Your reputation would have been shredded.”

  “It would have been worth it, Gordon.”

  He heard the solemnity in her voice and knew that she would have been willing to give herself to him, regardless of what might have happened. Yet he wouldn’t have done that to her.

  He bent his head and kissed her, need thrumming through him.

  She was his. No one else would ever be able to separate them. They would always be together.

  Her mouth opened below his, her soft moan encouraging him to deepen the kiss. His hands speared through her hair, dislodging pins and tossing them to the floor.

  He had never felt as he did right now, invincible, ready to face the world to protect her. He would do everything in his power to shield her from hurt or disappointment and create a perfect world for her.

  He entered her slowly, giving her time to get used to him. Her quick intake of breath alerted him. He would have retreated had her hands not gripped his hips.

  “No,” she said. “Don’t leave me. It doesn’t hurt.”

  He stayed where he was for a moment, balanced on his forearms.

  Her hands trailed up and down his sides, and then his back, as if she were trying to memorize him.

  She didn’t speak, but the upward thrust of her hips was encouragement for him to move. He slowly withdrew, then entered her again. She sighed her approval.

  “Jennifer.” Her name was an aphrodisiac. The soft stroke of her fingers where they joined pushed him even closer to completion.

  He bent and kissed her again, lost in the maelstrom of sensation. Her breasts were so soft and round, tempting to kiss. He tongued one nipple, then another, doing it again when she loudly sighed.

  He wanted her to remember this night for more than simply losing her virginity. He wanted to bring her pleasure, make her soar with him, make her scream her release.

  He pulled back, out of her, and when she gripped his hips and would have demanded that he enter her again, he shook his head, bent and trailed a path from between her breasts down to her navel.

  Her hands gripped his shoulders, trailed through his hair as he bent lower, licking his way.

  He lifted her up to meet his mouth, hearing her indrawn gasp of surprise.

  He took his time, slow and deliberate, teasing her. Her hands were now gripping his hair, her hips arching upward to meet his mouth.

  He loved everything about her, from her response to the silky softness of her skin. This was the woman he would make love to for the rest of his life. Tonight would begin their lives together, and he wanted her to remember it just that way.

  She was gasping now, saying his name.

  When she exploded beneath him, he kissed his way back up her body, leaving tender kisses on her nipples.

  Only then did he enter her again, feeling the rhythmic shudders still going through her.

  He wanted to last, but as she gripped him, he realized that that was a fool’s errand. He bent to kiss her breasts again, tongued one nipple after another, his hands at her back, gripping her shoulders. He pulled himself deeply into her as she raised her hips again, her heels digging into the mattress.

  She met him thrust for thrust, encouraging him with her soft cries of pleasure. His vision grayed and the room fell away. There was only Jennifer, his lodestone, his anchor, and his love.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  The moment she arrived home, Ellen was waylaid by Davis.

  “We have had a caller, Mrs. Thornton. A Mr. Gordon McDonnell. However, I am currently unable to ascertain the whereabouts of this visitor.”

  Ellen bit back a sigh. Davis was the most obsequious majordomo in London. However, he was also the most starched. He had appointed himself guardian of her morals and those of her friends. More than once, she knew that she’d sorely disappointed him. She’d been left with no doubt of his disapproval, evident in the twitch of his nose and the stiffness of his bearing.

  No one was more proper than Davis. No one.

  She refrained from telling him that it was truly none of his business where Gordon was at the moment. Davis wouldn’t see it that way. Her house was his domain and he ruled it well.

  “I don’t think we need to worry about it, Davis,” she said. “I’m certain that all is well.”

  No doubt she should have been shocked or dismayed, but she was human. A trait that she wasn’t entirely certain that Davis shared. Strangely enough, he and Abigail disliked each other heartily. She would have thought, with both possessing such dour personalities, that they would be well suited for each other.

  She knew exactly where Gordon was. And Jennifer, for that matter. She had no intention of disturbing either of them. In the morning was time enough to feign outrage. For now, the two of them deserved a little happiness after what they’d gone through.

  Jennifer rested her head on Gordon’s shoulder as he put his arm around her. She curled against him, her hand on his chest. His heart still beat thunderously. Held there within the shelter of his arms, she felt safe, loved, and cherished.

  She wanted to smile and wondered if that was a normal reaction to lovemaking. She hadn’t felt as much discomfort as she’d expected. Perhaps that came from climbing trees and hills or racin
g through the strath.

  Or perhaps it was simply being with Gordon. He’d made everything magical and beautiful, a memory she’d never forget.

  “I’m yours,” she said. “Completely. And you’re mine.” She smoothed her hand over his chest, claiming him with the action.

  “I always have been.”

  She looked at his face, his beautiful, beloved face. It had been in her mind ever since she was a little girl. Gordon had always been her North Star—and now? Now he was her love, her lover.

  No one else would ever be able to separate them.

  She never wanted to sleep unless it was next to him. When she said as much, he rolled over and rose above her.

  “You’ll never have to. I promise you that, Jennifer.”

  That necessitated a few kisses.

  He lay beside her again, and she cuddled next to him.

  That required a kiss or two, followed by a bit of nuzzling. He had the most beautiful body. She’d seen some of it when he was working for Sean, but she was even more delighted to be able to touch, stroke, and fondle it now.

  He did the same, kissing his way over her shoulder to her arm, then hesitating at the juncture of her elbow.

  “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

  “I believe it’s been about five years.”

  “Then I’m certainly due.”

  She laughed. “I’ve been taught that it’s excessively poor manners to solicit compliments.”

  “What a pity. I might have said what a beautiful smile you have.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ve always loved the color of your eyes.”

  “I’ve recently noticed that they’re Ellen’s color. Isn’t it odd that I never saw that before?” She pulled back. “Did you see a resemblance between us the night Harrison came home?”

  “A resemblance?” He shook his head. “No.”

  “Ellen thought you did.”

  “I think we see what we want. I never thought you were anything but an Adaire. Speaking of which, it’s recently been brought to my attention that I’m the mirror image of the Earl of Burfield.”