Free How to Abduct a Highland Lord by Karen Hawkins Page A

him.
     
     Full, soft lips folded in a displeased line. A pert, upturned nose was splashed with dusky freckles across the bridge, barely noticeable in the light from the fireplace. Thickly lashed eyes glowed a lovely, mossy green.
     
     All of this surrounded by a cloud of sable hair so thick it dared a man to—
     
     Fiona.
     
     How did—Where had—
     
     Oh, yes.
     
     The scent of their recent lovemaking and the feel of her bared legs twined with his slowly stirred his memory, though his sated body struggled against the lethargic effects.
     
     “You were snoring.”
     
     He opened his mouth, then closed it, unsure of the accusing tone of her voice.
     
     “Loudly.”

 
     He supposed it was annoying being awakened in such a way, especially if she had been as sound asleep as he had been. “Sorry, love.” He yawned. “After a good romp, I always sleep deeply.”
     
     Silence. “A good romp?”
     
     Normally, Jack would have recognized the outrage in her quiet voice. Unfortunately, he was deep in the euphoric grip of after-sex stupor.
     
     So he merely turned and spooned Fiona to him. She fit against him perfectly, her head tucked beneath his chin, her rounded ass pressing against him, her legs entwined with his.
     
     Her hair tickled his nose, and he smoothed it back with his cheek, enjoying the feel of her silky skin and the faint beat of her heart. “Let’s sleep a bit, shall we?”
     
     He closed his eyes and—
     
     She pushed herself out of his embrace, cold air touching his skin where she and the blankets had once been. He frowned, opening one eye. “Hm?”
     
     She had turned to face him, her expression serious. “Jack, we have things to discuss.”
     
     He sighed. “What things?”
     
     “Things like”—her lips tightened with distaste—“our ‘little romp.’”
     
     There was no missing the outrage this time. Jack passed a hand over his face, struggling to push his sleepiness aside.
     
     He had a “no talking after” rule which he zealously guarded. Any woman who didn’t adhere to the rule was never allowed back in his bed. So far, he’d been able to enjoy his after-tupping stupor luxuriously.
     
     Perhaps he should have explained this to Fiona before they fell into bed. The problem was, he had been too angry and far too intent on getting between her thighs to manage any discussion. Being with her so many hours in the carriage had fed his lust until he could barely keep his hands on the right side of her clothing in front of the servants.
     
     He wasn’t capable of speaking right now, either—not about anything of substance—and he had a feeling that was what she wished. He wanted to savor the repleteness of his body, enjoy the worry-freeing effects of passion, and sleep the deep sleep that always came after a particularly satisfying tumble.
     
     He slowly closed his eyes again, his thoughts melting behind images of their tryst, of her skin against his—
     
     “Jack!”
     
     Her insistent voice tugged his eyes back open. She was now leaning on one arm, her hair falling over it and pooling on the sheets in a thick swath of sable.
     
     Damn, but she was beautiful. And lush. And all too tempting. Suddenly, Jack wasn’t quite as sleepy. His body was even beginning to stir, much to his delight. Smiling a bit at his own randiness, he rolled up onto his elbow to face her. “Very well, love. What shall we talk about?”
     
     Jack kissed her heated cheek, trailing his lips to hers.
     
     “Jack,” she said, a bit breathlessly, “we may have very different expectations, and I don’t wish that to become a problem.”
     
     He slid his hand to her hair. It seemed to have its own energy, curling around his fingers as if to hold them there. “I agreed to get you with child, and once that is accomplished, you will go on your merry way and leave me in peace.” He shrugged. “What more is there to say?”
     
     “Well, it will be easier for