Unwilling (Highland Historical #2)

into the face of his Goddess and was blessed.
    His thunderous bellow permeated her
haze and grounded her into the moment.  She felt him swell and kick deep inside
her body, releasing a warm rush against her womb.  He was most beautiful in
this moment, coming apart in her arms, his eyes containing the two halves of
his nature. 
    When the storm passed, they stayed
locked together for an endless span of time.  His panting breaths hit the top
of her hair and hers broke on the tattoos of his chest where she rested her
cheek. 
    “Did I hurt ye, Lindsay?” Connor’s
deep voice held a hint of terror.  His release must have freed him from the
Berserker’s hold. 
    She tested her muscles with him
still inside her and enjoyed his breathy hiss. 
    “A little,” she admitted with a
smile against his skin.
    “Ohh… Christ…” he let out a
tortured groan and withdrew from her. 
    Lindsay tilted her head back to
look at him.  He was looking from her torn and discarded nightgown back to the
fireplace as though he didn’t know whether to cover her or hurl himself into
the flames. 
    She took his face in her hands,
forcing his tormented gaze to meet hers.  “Take me to bed, Connor MacLauchlan,”
she ordered.  “I want to look into your green eyes the second time.” 
    With tenderness born of
incredulity, he lifted her into his arms and wrapped them both in his tartan. 
    ***
    Lindsay stirred alone in her bed,
surrounded by violet and sunshine.  A luxurious stretch brought twinges to
muscles only recently awakened and awareness of a sublime satisfaction
emanating from within.  She hadn’t felt Connor leave this morning.  Though
after conveying her to her room, he’d exhausted her with his tender and
passionate mouth.   She barely remembered falling asleep against his chest. 
Hardly a word had passed between them that wasn’t command or plea in the
darkness.  They hadn’t spoken of the future.  They didn’t profess to love.  But
they set aside their insecurities, fears, and aspersions and gave themselves
over to the intensity of emotion and sensation flowing between them.
    Energized at the thought of seeing
him again, Lindsay threw her covers off, bounded out of bed, and dressed.  She
made it through her morning toilette in less time than she probably should
have, and left in search of Connor and breakfast. 
    As luck would have it, she found
both in the same place. 
    Breakfasts were simple and held in
a sunny nook off the solarium overlooking the loch.  Evelyn sat at the square
table, flanked by the hulking Lachlan brothers, looking fresh and lovely in a
bullion kirtle that matched the rope of golden curls braided down her back. 
    “Lindsay!  Wonderful of you to join
us.”  Her face was full of warm delight as she rushed from her seat to pull her
into a tight hug.  “I’ve set a place for you at every meal, just in case.” 
Evelyn motioned to an empty seat directly across from her.  Hearty bread, oils,
fruits and cheeses lay out in abundance.  An empty goblet stood where she was
to dine. 
    Despite her unorthodox
circumstances concerning her status as a “guest” in castle Lauchlan, Lindsay
was shamed by her discourtesy to the lady who’d shown her nothing but
sweetness.  “Evelyn… please forgive me for—”
    “Speak nothing of it,” the woman
cut in with an insistent wave of her hand, “Just sit down and balance the
conversation.”
    Feeling suddenly shy and demure,
Lindsay sat and smiled at Evelyn as she took her adjacent place.  She also cast
a polite smile at Roderick to her right, but was unable to look above Connor’s
forearms, which rested on the table.  Instead, she studied the four neat
crescents her nails had marked the previous night and tried to suppress a
blush. 
    “Good day, my lord.”  She tore a
crust of bread and poured nectar of pear into her goblet to dip it in.  “I
trust you slept well?”
    “The night passed very vigorously,
my lady.”  His murmur was a rumble of amusement.
    Lindsay coughed and dropped her
bread in her lap.  “Is that so?”  She retrieved the crust and fidgeted so that
she didn’t touch her cold hands to her burning face.  “And this morning?”
    His dark chuckle washed over her. 
“I spent the morning in the library, cleaning the remnants of a hasty
occupation.”
    Lindsay risked a sharp glance at
him then.  His eyes sparkled at her, much like the sun off the deep loch.  He
looked younger, somehow, relaxed and