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She moved her mouth over his jaw, temples, eyes, ears, then back to his mouth. His need swelled to a profound hunger. Damning himself for having such little control, James drank deeply of the sweetness she offered, savoring the moment as though it were his last.

He stroked her back down to the base of her spine, where he slowly traced the graceful indentation. His hands itched to cup the tempting globes of her perfectly rounded buttocks and lift her closer to his desire, but he held back.

This was Davina’s seduction. He would follow her lead. No matter how tortuous. No matter how sorely tempted he was to take control, to spread her legs, grasp her hips, and press inside her. To finally claim her as his own.

His body became further inflamed when he heard her whisper his name. So sweetly, breathlessly, and with obvious need. Her untutored hands pulled at his clothing, trying to push it aside and reach his bare flesh.

James held his breath, aching with the need to help her, but he feared his passion would overcome him. Gritting his teeth, he somehow held on to his control as the delicious sensation of her fingertips glided over his partially bare chest.

His loins quickened, his manhood was heavy and aching. His heart caught, knowing this was the time for truth between them. “I’ve been hurt and angry, but my feelings fer ye have never changed,” he whispered.

“I’m humbled to know that ye could still want me, flawed as I am.” A lone tear escaped, trailing down her cheek.

The sight of it made James’s chest constrict. “God’s blood, dinnae cry, Davina.”

“The tears are born of joy, not sorrow,” she whispered. “I’ve waited far too long to belong to ye, James.”

He felt himself starting to withdraw, to pull back into the harsh, gruff shell he used to protect himself. Davina’s eyes turned sorrowful, as though she knew what he was doing. Then suddenly a helpless feeling sliced through his heart, a fear that if he turned inward again, now, in this moment, he might never be able to escape.

It was madness. And yet . . .

He ran his fingers wearily through his hair, then held up his hands in supplication. Allowing his guard to crumble, James lay down on the bed, folded his hands across his chest, and closed his eyes.

He could feel the mattress dip as Davina scrambled beside him. The air was heavy with the intoxicating scent of her. He took a very deep breath, then opened one eye and peered at her.

“Go on, now. Have yer wicked way with me, wench.”

She could not take her eyes from him. Her breath deepened as she looked down at him, seeking to control her uneven pulse. The sight of him lying so still sent a flutter of anticipation through her for beneath the invincibility of his hard body was a sense of vulnerability that she recognized and understood.

She took a deep breath and emptied her mind of everything except James. A twinge of excitement pulsed through her veins and a feeling that could only be described as desire filled her—and gave her hope.

She knew in her heart that no other man was capable of eliciting such a response from her. James. Only James. But it wasn’t only passion, there was tenderness, too. The final, small doubt that this was the right path for both of them to take vanished.

Now all she need do was figure out the best way to continue with her seduction. She moistened her lips and stared down at him with helpless exasperation, uncertain where to start. ’Twould be far easier if James were in charge, but that was clearly not his intention.

Nay, if this was going to happen, then she had to be the one to take them on this journey. The realization brought a blush of heat flushing her chest, which crept up her neck and into her cheeks.

The sudden twinkle in James’s eyes let her know he’d noticed it. His amusement calmed her nerves and softened the fierceness on his handsome face. Keeping herself raised on one elbow, Davina slowly reclined beside him. Bracing her hand against his chest, she leaned close and pressed her lips to his cheek. It was rough with stubble, but she found it to be a pleasant sensation.

Her mouth shifted, lingering over his lips. She could feel the warmth of his breath, smell the sweetness of the wine he had drunk at dinner. The embers of desire began to glow inside her as she anticipated the feel of his lips and tongue tangling with hers.

“Are ye going to tease me or kiss me, lass?”

“Kiss,” she murmured.

She flicked her tongue lightly along the rim of his lips, tempting them both, then embraced him utterly, devouring him with all the pent-up ardor that had been locked inside her for years. He responded with a loud groan. His fingertips dug into her arms as he bit at her bottom lip, taking her mouth with his lips and tongue.

Passion surged through her in a dizzying tide. The kiss woke something deep and hidden within her. Chaotic emotions came to life, making her hot and cold all in the same moment. She suddenly found the cloth of their garments an annoying, frustrating barrier. Longing to feel his skin pressing against her, Davina tugged at his clothing. With impatient hands, she pulled at the edges of his tunic, lifting it off his body. A fine linen shirt followed, the neatly stitched garment flung carelessly on the floor.

Her breath caught, and held, as she reveled in gaining her prize—a beautifully sculpted, naked chest. She momentarily forgot about his brais, concentrating instead on the male splendor set before her.

There was not a spare ounce of flesh anywhere on his body. His chest was lean with corded muscles that bore numerous scars, yet it made him no less attractive. He was beautiful in a raw, rugged way. His flesh was warm and silky. She could feel his muscles knot beneath her touch, but he remained perfectly still as her finger traced the raised white line of an old scar.

He was like a statue sculpted from marble. Well, she must do all that she could to make this statuefeel.

She leaned down and ran her cheek over his naked chest, then pressed her lips to it, tantalizing his warm flesh with her tongue. She could feel his heart drumming rapidly, could hear his deep, heavy breaths. Encouraged, she continued, allowing her lips and tongue to linger with each caress.

She heard the sharp intake of his breath, followed by a deep groan. The sound of his pleasure encouraged her. Acting purely on instinct, she bade her hands to move lithely over his flesh, across the flat plane of his stomach and then lower.