Free The Highlander's Reward by Eliza Knight Page B

looked truly concerned for her.
    “’Tis mint.”
    She took the proffered treat and put into her mouth, letting the mint flavor explode over her tongue. “My father. I do not know if he survived.”
    Magnus chewed his own mint, then drank from his water skin, offering her a sip. “I can send a message to find out.”
    Arbella shook her head and took a deep gulp, surprised at how different the water tasted after having chewed the mint leaf.
    “Why not?” He frowned in her direction and reached for his plaid, exchanging the blanket for the tartan fabric.
    She watched as he pleated it and kept it in place around his hips with a belt.
    “For a woman of many words, ye are not so talkative this morning.”
    She found it hard to concentrate while watching him dress, but she also didn’t want to speak about her father. She had so many decisions to make and too many burdens to bear.
    “I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
    “And ye think sending word inquiring about your father will cause harm?”
    She nodded. “He would dispatch an army to your lands.” She couldn’t tell him about Marmaduke. That would only be giving Magnus permission to issue her death.
    A slow smile spread on his face and he came to stand within a foot of her. “Ye care for my safety, lass?”
    She shook her head quickly, her hair flicking her face. She tucked the errant strands behind her ears.
    “No?” His smile deepened and he reached out to touch her hair. “’Tis pretty. And soft. I like it down.”
    Arbella watched, mesmerized as he twirled several strands around his finger, pulling her closer gently. She liked this touch, like him touching her hair. No one had ever complimented the softness of her hair—well Glenda didn’t count. A man had never issued her a compliment. Her heart warmed and her belly flip-flopped.
    When she was only inches away he dropped her hair and stroked her cheek.
    “I want to kiss ye, Arbella.” The way he said her name…how it rolled off his tongue with his burr sent shivers racing along her spine.
    She wanted him to kiss her too, but she couldn’t allow it. Magnus caressed her cheek, her neck, then threaded his fingers through her hair until he held the back of her scalp and massaged her head. She grew limp and relaxed, her eyes closing. Wondrous sensations filled her, made her skin tingle and sing.
    Taking a step closer, her boots touched his bare toes. She wished she’d taken her boots off when she went to bed. An overwhelming urge for their bare toes to touch like this as he caressed her so familiarly took hold.
    “Will ye let me?”
    He was a gentleman even if he didn’t want to be. This Scots barbarian was really no more of a barbarian than she was. Legally he was her husband. He could take from her what he wanted and no one would think twice. She would have to allow it. But he didn’t take. He asked for it. And she wanted to give it to him.
    Her eyes still closed, she nodded her head, tilted her lips toward his. And waited.
    An eternity seemed to pass before his lips landed on hers. He brushed gently at first, a whisper of a caress. Long fingers continued to massage her scalp.
    Arbella determined that his light kiss wasn’t enough. If she was going to give him permission to kiss her then she wanted to be kissed as he had done so outside the church. She parted her lips, prepared to ask him to do just that when he moaned against her mouth, his velvet tongue slipping between her lips to touch the tip of hers.
    She sighed, sagging against him. Now this was a kiss. Tender, yet demanding. She wrapped her arms around his naked waist, pulling her hands away with a jerk when they settled on the warm skin of his back, but curiosity got the better of her. Arbella explored his back, tracing along his spine, over the muscles from his shoulders on down. As she discovered the span of his back, she grew bolder with her mouth, touching his tongue with hers. Stroking, dueling, tasting. Her nipples ached and grew