Читать книгу Highland Warrior - Hannah Howell - Страница 2

Ewan told himself he was a grown man, a man of strength and resolve. He should be able to be alone with Fiona and not give in to his base urges. She was touching his leg only to tend his wound, an innocent touch that could be ignored.

That resolve began to fade away with each touch of her fingers against his thigh. He felt his ardor stir to life as she bandaged his leg, her soft fingers brushing perilously close to his groin as she worked. A quick look revealed that the bedcovers were bunched up enough to hide his reaction to her touch.

“Ye have blood on your face,” Fiona said as she straightened up from tying off the bandage on his thigh.

“Tis naught,” he said. “Tis just a wee scratch.”

“It should still be cleaned.”

When she leaned over him to bathe the cut, Ewan inhaled so sharply he nearly choked. Her skin was a clear, soft honey shade. No matter how hard he tried, he could not dispel the urge to see if her skin would taste as sweet and warm as it looked.

Just as she started to walk away, he wrapped his arm around her waist to hold her still. She trembled and he heard her breath catch as he kissed her throat. Feasting upon her soft skin, he kissed his way up her elegant neck to her lips. Her eyes were wide and held a look he was sure was one of a growing desire. Her full lips were slightly parted and he took quick advantage, kissing her deeply and with a fierce need he could not hold back…